#but my brain is going a mile a minute and i can’t help but listen to it

[gregmarriage]

someone hit me over the head with a hammer, and knock me the fuck out, so my brain will shut the fuck up

[hongjoongtime117]

Jenga and Jealousy

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong/Reader, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung

Genre: SMUT (MDNI 18+)

Word count: 12.6k

Warnings: choking, orgasm denial, Hongjoong is heavily tattooed and pierced, reader is a brat, unprotected sex (wrap it up, pleaseeee!), drinking, oral (F/M receiving), phone sex (sort of?), jealous Kim Hongjoong, pet names (baby, gorgeous, pretty, Kitten), Hongjoong has a Captain kink. Lemme know if I missed anything? lol

Summary: Wooyoung and San attempt to be your wingmen and invite Hongjoong over for a game night. Spicy Jenga makes for a jealous Hongjoong.

SPECIAL THANKS TO @mlwood1498 for helping with the spice when my brain was STUCK

“Yah! Y/N! We’re having a friend over tonight for drinks and games. You cool with that?” Wooyoung shouts from the kitchen where he’s making breakfast for him and San. You go to join him in the kitchen, Wooyoung’s cooking making your mouth water.

“I mean, I guess that depends on which friend, Woo” you sigh, already knowing it’s gonna happen whether you’d like it to or not. He was only asking out of courtesy. “Did you make some for me, too?” You plead with a pout and big doe eyes you know he can’t say no to.

“Pftt, of course I did. I definitely don’t want you in the kitchen. You almost burned down the entire apartment in your previous attempt to cook” he says, rolling his eyes ever so dramatically. “And the friend is Kim Hongjoong. Ya know, the one you’re always eye fucking?”

Your cheeks turn hot from the blush creeping across them, and San howls with laughter.

“I do NOT!” you scowl as you smack Wooyoung on the shoulder.

He turns away from the stove to face you and sees your bright red face. “I’d say the tomato color you're currently sporting tells me otherwise” a soft, veiny hand coming to pinch your cheeks.

“Yeah, Y/N. You make it so obvious” San says through his giggles. “Listen, we’re just trying to potentially be your wingmen tonight.”

“I dont NEED wingmen, you assholes!”

“Y/N, when was the last time you got a good dick down?” Wooyoung is looking at you, an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.

“Look, I don’t have a live in fuck toy” your eyes motioning between him and San. “It’s… been a while” you sigh dejectedly.

“Yeah, Y/N, we knew that. Which is why we’re trying to be good besties here and help you out. Even though you just called me a fuck toy” San says, feigning offense.

“Looks like we’re getting Y/N some dick tonight” Wooyoung lets out his high pitched cackle.

“I never even agreed to this” you whine. “And I think maybe you should pay more attention to your cooking than my sex life, before you burn the apartment down.”

“Just think about it, Y/N. We’re obviously not gonna force you into anything” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Does he even know the intentions of having him over? How do you know he’d even be down for it? And how would you even know if he’s gonna be a good fuck?” You shoot your questions to Wooyoung and San a million miles a minute.

“First off, Y/N. He has an idea of why he’s coming over. Second, if you weren’t drooling like a dog over that man, you would also notice the way he eye fucks you right back. So I know he’s more than down. I just didn’t want to give him any expectations, in case, ya know, you were gonna turn down some dick from the man of your dreams.”

Wooyoung always has to tease. God, you can’t stand him sometimes.

“And as far as your third question, I’m not going to go into too much detail on how I know. Just know that I do.”

After the three of you finish breakfast (which was amazing of course, living with Wooyoung was like having a personal chef) you head to your room and flop down on your comfy bed. You unlock your phone and open instagram to mindlessly scroll for a bit. Except the moment you open it, Kim Hongjoong is staring back at you.

You stare, open mouthed, at the insanely gorgeous photo he’s posted. His dark brown undercut styled perfectly. The wink, further drawing you in with his long, pretty eyelashes and the eyebrow piercing bringing attention to his well shaped brows. The simple diamond stud adorning his left nostril. The neck tattoos peeking from the collar of his button up. And at last, the part of the photo that had you thinking that maybe this night might not be such a bad idea after all. His pierced tongue poking through his perfect set of teeth and plump, shiny, also pierced lips.

You lock your phone and toss it across your bed. You scream into your pillow with frustration, thoughts of what Hongjoong could do with that pretty mouth flooding your brain. How good that sharp nose would feel against your clit as you ride his face, fucking into you with his (most likely) very experienced, jeweled tongue. The thoughts made the temperature in the room become increasingly uncomfortable.

“Fuck, I need to get a grip” you say to yourself as you push yourself up until you’re sitting on your knees in the middle of your bed. The bed that may soon be occupied with you and Hongjoong, playing out your current fantasies.

You rummage through your messy dresser drawers in search of something sexy and unexpected to put under the baggy sweats and sweatshirt you were planning on wearing tonight. After some digging around, you find your full body leather harness that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. This way, if things go right, Hongjoong will be pleasantly surprised. And if this doesn't go as planned, you don’t look like you were desperate for his touch.

At the particular moment you decide to toss the harness onto you bed, Wooyoung and San decide to burst into your room, unannounced.

“Ya, have yall ever heard of knocking? Scared the shit out of me! And what if I was standing here naked!?”

“Relax, Y/N. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before” Wooyoung says casually, ignoring your dramatics. “Besides, the only person I’m really interested in seeing naked is San. And maybe Hongjoong.”

San raises an eyebrow and side eyes Wooyoung. “You can’t be for real, Woo?”

“What!? I've heard some things and I wanna know if they’re true. That’s all.” Wooyoung shrugs, as if that’s something completely normal to say in front of your boyfriend.

“Wait, what kind of things?” you ask, curiosity lighting you on fire.

“Y/N, I already told you, you aren’t getting a word out of me. And from the looks of what you’ve got picked out, you’re planning on finding out for yourself.” He nods his head to your chosen fit for the night.

“Is that all you’re wearing tonight?” San seems a little surprised, as you’re usually not that forward. “Kinda just screams ‘I’m desperate, come fuck me now’” he chuckles.

“No, you fucking dummy! I’m wearing sweats and a sweatshirt over it!”

“Ahh, get him with the element of surprise. Ok, I see you, Y/N.” Wooyoung smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“What the hell did you guys even come in here for in the first place?”

“Oh, we wanted to know if you wanted to go to the store with us to grab snacks and drinks for tonight. We’re leaving in 5.” San takes Wooyoung by the hand and they head back to the living room.

You throw on a simple graphic tee and ripped black jeans for your endeavor to the store. You head to meet San and Wooyoung in the living room. “Ok, let’s goooo!”

The entire ten minute ride to the store consisted of Wooyoung and San hounding you with questions about the evening that was about to unfold.

“So you’re really about to let us be your wingmen tonight, huh?”

“Wooyoung, I swear to God if you don’t shut up. I’m going to spend the entire night in my room.”

“Aw, come on Y/N. I know Hongjoong is really looking forward to tonight.” San joining in on Wooyoung’s teasing as your cheeks begin to turn a rosy pink.

“Ugh, let’s just go grab what we need and get back home. I’m in desperate need of a shower” you sigh as Wooyoung parks the car.

You guys grab a cart and begin filling it with an array of chips and candy. San tosses in a box of pepero.

You shoot San a questioning glance. “And what are those for, San?”

“Oh, you already know Y/N,” a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.

You give yourself a harsh face palm and slide your hand down your face. They really were trying incredibly hard to make tonight’s tensions as high a possible.

Heading into the aisles of alcohol, Wooyoung picks up the cheapest, probably most vile option he could find for vodka. “This should work!”

“Woo, that’s literally the worst option out of everything here!”

“Duh, Y/N, it’s supposed to be a punishment, not enjoyable.”

“Punishment?” A perplexed look crosses your face.

“Yeah, we’re playing a game with certain challenges. But if you decide not to follow through, your punishment is a double shot of this shit,” he says waving the bottle in his hand. “Among other rules we’ll explain when Hongjoong arrives.”

“Why do I not trust this?”

Defeated, the three of you head to go check out with the massive amount of snacks and the bottle of alcohol you’ve thrown into the cart.

Upon returning home, you help San and Wooyoung unpack everything and you rush to your room in order to get yourself prepared for tonight’s events. You definitely need an ‘everything’ shower.

You step into your private bathroom, and turn the shower on to a comfortable setting. You’re going to be there for a while. This is the first time you’ve gotten laid in at least a year. First impressions matter, and you wanted to make a damn good one on Hongjoong.

Stepping under the warm water, calming your nerves just a little, you lather yourself with your favorite vanilla and jasmine soap. You deep condition your hair (if his hands end up in it, you want him to enjoy the feel of your soft hair). You make sure everything is smoothly shaven. You hop out and lather yourself with your matching body lotion and wrap your fluffy towel around you to head back to your room.

Staring at the leather contraption on the bed, you realize you’ve never actually worn this particular item before.

“Hey, fuckers! I need help!” you shout through the apartment.

“San and Wooyoung at your service” both bowing as they enter your room and try to stop the giggles from escaping.

You hand them the puzzling pieces of leather and wonder why you even bother wearing anything at all at this point.

“I can’t figure this out,” you whine, a pout decorating your lips.

“Oh, I’ve got this!” Woo says ever so cockily. “Drop the towel, babe.”

Hesitant for a second, you remember that being roommates for so long, they’ve definitely seen their fair share of your body, so you toss your towel aside.

San and Wooyoung work quietly, bending, twisting, poking, and prodding you until you’re fully situated in the body harness, that does nothing to cover, and everything to accentuate.

Wooyoung turns you around to admire their work. San lets out an appreciative whistle. “If Hongjoong doesn’t fuck you stupid once he sees this, he’s insane.”

“Ok, ok, get out now!” You hurry them out of your bedroom, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hongjoong is supposed to arrive in a half an hour. You’ve got to throw on your sweats and sweatshirt, and try to relax and calm yourself before the man of the hour shows up. You busy yourself with prepping the snacks for the night.

As soon as you’ve spread out the snacks, vodka, and shot glasses on the glass coffee table, you sit down, nerves finally calm, and the doorbell chimes loudly, startling you.

“Hey, Y/N you want to go answer that?” San says cheekily.

“Do I have a choice?” you banter back, rolling your eyes.

You shove yourself off the couch and head across the living room to make your way to the door. You take a deep breath before carefully opening it, finally coming face to face with Hongjoong. He flashes you a smile with those perfect teeth and you catch yourself looking at the lip ring shining right in the middle of his plump bottom lip. God, those lips look so kissable. He’s dressed in a black button up and dark denim Levi’s.

“Hey, Y/N!” his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hey, Hongjoong!” You smile back as you step aside to let him in. He kicks off his heeled boots and sets them by the door.

He follows you into the living room, where Wooyoung and San are comfortably spread out on the larger couch, leaving the small love seat to you and Hongjoong. Nice play, boys.

“Hey, Joong!” the boys greet in unison.

“Hey! Thanks for inviting me over. I’m excited to have a night to relax. I’m usually so busy working on music that I just don’t ever have time to do stuff like this!”

“Of course! Sit back and relax, man.” Wooyoung gestures to the love seat that you’re currently standing behind.

He plops down and makes himself comfortable. All three of them have noticed you still have yet to move from your spot. Hongjoong tilts his head back to look at you, his exposed, tattooed neck looking really suckable right about now.

“You can come sit with me. I don’t bite. Unless, ya know, you’re into that sort of thing? I don’t judge,” he snickers, and again, for the nth time tonight, your cheeks heat up with blush.

You sit down next to him, hugging your knees to your chest, as that’s your most comfortable way to sit. “Don’t start your shit, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Ooo, someone’s feisty!” he teases, and you lightly smack his arm. Just from the slight impact, you can tell he’s got some impressive arms under his button up. San and Wooyoung are watching the whole thing unfold and can’t help but howl with laughter at the exchange.

As the laughter from the two dies down, Wooyoung suggests putting on a movie. “How about a scary movie, Y/N? Your favorite!”

You shoot Woo the most evil side eye you can manage. Your roommates know you despise scary movies.

Hongjoong notices the interaction and begins to taunt you. “What? Are you scared Y/N?”

“Pffftt, no? Why would I be scared? It’s just a movie.”

Hongjoong gives a knowing smile and you’re definitely going to make Wooyoung pay for this later.

San and Wooyoung get comfortable on the couch and the intro to the movie begins. Hongjoong decides to make himself comfortable as well, turning so his back is resting against the arm of the love seat, one foot on the floor, the other resting gently behind you.

“Come here, Y/N, relax a little.” Hongjoong puts his arms around your waist and pulls you to sit between his legs, your back resting against his well defined chest. He wrestles a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and places it over the two of you. He nuzzles into your neck and you can hear him sharply inhale.

“Damn, Y/N, you smell amazing,” he whispers into your ear, and the ghost of breath that tickles your ear gives you goosebumps and sends shivers down your spine.

You try to ignore your growing arousal at being so close to him. “Pay attention to the movie, Joong” you whisper back.

The moment you both focus your attention back to the screen is the very moment a scene makes you jump and you pull the blanket over your face, partly to hide your embarrassment, and partly from fear.

You hear Hongjoong chuckling lowly in your ear. “It’s just a movie, right Y/N? Not scared, my ass.”

You return his teasing by repositioning yourself onto your side and placing a harsh bite right to his bicep. His eyes widen just a bit, and you see the fire ignite in them behind his long lashes. He snakes his arm up your body and places his hand, decorated with tattoos and rings on your throat, not squeezing, but resting it there, and he feels you gulp.

His voice vibrating against your ear that is now resting against his chest, “Mmm, so you do enjoy biting. You better be careful, Kitten.” he warns.

Through the remainder of the movie his hand stays placed on your neck, rubbing against the unmarked skin with his thumb. You hadn’t paid attention to a damn thing that happened in that movie since he wrapped that pretty custom necklace around you.

The credits begin rolling and you receive a quizzical look from Wooyoung and San. “What are you guys doing over there?”

“Someone doesn’t know how to keep their teeth to themselves.” Hongjoong says with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, yeah. That doesn’t surprise me. She learned from the best, see?” Wooyoung giggles as he grabs San’s arm and sinks his teeth into his forearm.

“Yah, Woo! What the fuck was that for?”

“Since when do I ever have a reason for biting? It’s just fun!” Wooyoung simply says with a shrug

Hongjoong is amused by the quarrel between the two boyfriends.

“I have to agree with you, Woo. It’s definitely fun.” You hear the mischief in his voice before you even realize what’s happening. He tilts your head to the side and nips the bare skin of your neck. This elicits a moan from you and you quickly slap your hand over your mouth. “Mmm, so responsive, Kitten.”

Wooyoung leaves the comfort of San’s lap, stands up and claps his hands together, pulling you from the trance Hongjoong has placed you in. “Ok, who’s ready for drinks and drunk Jenga!?”

“What the fuck is drunk Jenga, Woo?” curiosity coming through in your voice.

“Ok, here. Let me explain. So me and San have taken the liberty of writing little challenges on each of the blocks. So when you pull your block, you either do what the block says, or take your punishment, in the form of two shots. If you knock the tower down, you must sit in the lap of another player for the rest of the game. The others get to decide who.”

“Alright, let’s get the real party started!” exclaims Hongjoong.

Wooyoung heads to grab the game while everyone else repositions themselves in their spots to have better access to the coffee table.

Wooyoung returns and begins setting up the blocks, while you try sneaking a peek at what’s written on them.

“Yah! Y/N, if you try cheating, I’m gonna give you your punishment now!”

“Ok, ok. I’ll behave!” Hongjoong snickers next to you.

“And what exactly is so funny, Joong?”

“You saying you’ll behave. That might be true. For the moment.” He leans to whisper into your ear “But I’m planning on changing that, Kitten.” The pet name made your head spin and your pussy throb.

With the game finally set up, it’s a battle of rock, paper, scissors to find out who is the first victim of the Jenga blocks. This of course happens to be you.

You kneel in front of the coffee table and steady your hands to pull out a block. San and Wooyoung know you are the worst at Jenga. Despite that, you expertly pull a block from near the top of the stack and internally face palm yourself.

“Feed someone a sip” you read aloud.

San and Wooyoung are whooping with excitement and they both immediately decide that this will be a challenge for you and Hongjoong.

“You ok with that, Joong?” asks San.

“Yeah, of course. I’m not a pussy.” he snickers.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and pour a shot of the vile alcohol. Shot in hand, you straddle Hongjoong’s lap, taking him by surprise.

“Not so cocky now, huh, Joongi?” mischievous grin spreading across your face. Your free hand roughly grips his chin and tilts his head back, his eyes widening in shock as he bites his plump, pink lips.

“Open up for me Joong” you assert in a very seductive tone. He does as told, and you pour the shot into his waiting mouth. He swallows and lets out a noise confirming his distaste for the bitter spirit.

You press yourself against him and lower your lips to his ear. “Good boy” your breath ghosts against him.

Wooyoung is loving your controlling behavior towards Hongjoong and is smacking San’s leg, trying to control himself from embarrassing you and ruining your feisty streak. You slowly climb off Hongjoong’s lap and reclaim your spot next to him on the loveseat. Hongjoong is still speechless and reeling from the pet name. After a few moments, he murmurs out a soft “fuck, I’m in for a hell of a night” to himself.

“Didn’t expect Y/N to give you a run for your money did you, Joong?” Wooyoung giving his best witch cackle.

“I mean, she’s always so quiet and shy. But they do say those are the ones you should watch out for. I should have known better. It’s ok, two can play that game, right Kitten?” Hongjoong shoots you a sideways glance.

You pressing your thighs together to help control the heat that is radiating from your core doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He’s not the only one in for a long night.

Next is San’s turn.

“Slap an ass. Oh come on, why did we even put this? This is too easy! We’re all in agreement that this is a Woo and I challenge?”

“Absolutely” you and Hongjoong agree together.

“How do you want me, Sannie?” Wooyoung urges.

“Hmmm, let’s make it a little more interesting shall we? Pants down and across my lap, Youngie.”

Wooyoung’s cheeks flush red at the request, but follows San’s orders and pulls his pants down enough to give San full access to his firm, toned ass, and climbs across San’s lap, ass in the air.

“Awww, don’t be shy now. You know you enjoy the attention, baby.”

Wooyoung whines low in his throat at the comment and prepares himself. San gently rubs Wooyoung’s cheeks before pulling his arm back as far as possible and landing an extremely hard, loud slap to Wooyoung’s right ass cheek. He lets out a whiny moan at the impact and buries his face as best as he can to hide the fucked out look he probably has on his face right now.

“Don’t hide. Stand up, pretty, let them see.”

San helps him stand and turns him around, ass on display for you and Hongjoong.

“He’s not gonna be able to sit for like a week, San. Damn.” Hongjoong lets out a long whistle at the bright red, swollen handprint adorning Wooyoung’s ass.

“He’s usually used to this shit by now, but like damn, that’s an impressive one, for sure, San” you add.

San pulls Wooyoung’s boxers and pants back up and Wooyoung kneels at the coffee table to take his turn. Wooyoung pulls a block from near the bottom of the stack, the tower wavering a little, but he manages to pull it out without incident.

“Lick? Mmm, shirt off, Sannie.”

San quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere onto the floor. He places his huge arms across the back of the couch and spreads his legs. Wooyoung drops to his knees in front of San and lightly runs his hands up his thighs to rest on his petite waist. Wooyoung licks his lips, and San looks down at them, adoring his singular dot that embellishes his bottom one. Wooyoung then takes his wet, slippery tongue and starts from San’s navel, languidly licking up the middle of his body. He runs his tongue right up the middle of his rock hard abs. He stands, tongue never leaving his boyfriend's body, and perches himself on San’s lap while continuing to run his hands up his body, rubbing his thumbs over San’s perked nipples, as his tongue finally reaches his neck.

San moans at the sensation and Wooyoung can feel his dick twitch beneath him.

“Mmm, you like that, Sannie?” Wooyoung hums in his ear.

San takes a hand and places it on Wooyoung’s neck, pushing him back gently. “Stop being a brat, Youngie.”

You catch movement from Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to regain some confront from the bulge that’s forming in his jeans from the Woosan interaction. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely drenched from watching them either.

“Damn, I’m feeling a little lonely over here” teases Hongjoong, eyes dark.

“Well, it’s your turn next, Joong. See what fate lies for you in the Jenga blocks.” Wooyoung nods to the tower in the middle of the coffee table.

“Alright, here goes nothing!” Again, another amazing player at Jenga, Hongjoong plucks the block from the tower easily.

“Blowjob shot?” he reads with a raised eyebrow. “Ok, so who am I taking this off of?”

“I vote Woo!” you and San blurt out at the same time. Hongjoong chuckles in amusement and pours a shot bringing it over to Wooyoung to get started on their challenge.

“You aren’t gonna back out Joongi?” you say playfully.

“Kitten, I never back down from a dare.” Still half hard, he taps Wooyoung’s knee to get him to spread his legs enough for him to fit himself in between them and places the shot glass onto his lap. He crosses his hands behind his back and places his pierced lips around the top of the glass and tosses his head back, downing the shot effortlessly.

“Damn, that was fucking hot” you whisper breathlessly.

You are a mess right now. And if the smirk on Hongjoong’s face when he heads back to sink into his spot next to you is any indication, he knows.

Hongjoong’s inked hand grips your thigh tightly, too close to where you want them, but not close enough. “Looks like we’re back to you, Y/N.”

You study the tower, looking for a block to pull that’s not going to cause the tower to crumble. You find the perfect one and slip it out of its spot.

“Body shot! Ok, this one is actually kind of fun.”

San and Wooyoung give you a look and you already know once again that you’re paired with Hongjoong for this challenge.

Running his jeweled tongue over his perfect lips, he quips “Body shots are definitely fun Y/N. Let’s do it.”

You stand to grab the bottle of death from the table as Hongjoong lays himself across the love seat, hands behind his head that’s resting on the arm.

“Gotta unbutton the shirt, Y/N” he gestures cockily with his eyes to the neatly pressed button down.

You roll your eyes at him, climb onto his muscular thighs, and begin working the buttons, starting from the top. When you make it towards the bottom of his neatly tucked shirt, you pull it from his pants and slide it off of him.

The sight before you makes your jaw drop slightly. His intricately tattooed chest, and huge pecs lead you right to his perked nipples, each sporting a metal barbell. Your tongue tingles and mouth waters with the need to taste and tease them. Hongjoong moves his legs a bit to snap you back to reality.

“Like what you see, huh Y/N?” devilish smirk playing across his lips. “You’ve still got a challenge to complete.”

You can feel your body heating up as you slide further down to position yourself comfortably enough to pour the shot into his navel and take it. As you go to pour it, two things stop you in your tracks. The first, the dangly chrome silver star bringing attention to where your mouth is soon to be. The second, the sailor font showing just over the waistband of his dark denim jeans. The strength of your curiosity outweighs any rational thought, as you pull his waistband down just enough to see the full script.

“Captain?” you quirk up an eyebrow.

“It was a dare,” he shrugs. “And I told you I will never back down from a dare, Kitten. But, focus now. You’re keeping everyone waiting.”

Without further hesitation, you pour the bitter liquid into his navel and very slowly and deliberately lap it up. Hongjoong removes his hands from behind his head, placing one on the back of yours as you continue to lick and suck, knowing damn well the shot is long gone. Hongjoong is fully hard as he grips your hair, gently lifting you off of his abdomen and looking through his long lashes, down at you with hunger filled eyes.

“I think it’s gone now, Y/N” he manages to breathe out.

“Damn Y/N, you trying to suck his soul out through his belly button?” Wooyoung pesters.

“Yeah, you did a number on him just now” says San, having to add in his two cents, of course.

“I was just doing the challenge, like you guys said” you brush off their teasing as you clamber off Hongjoong so he can move his legs to give you back your spot on the love seat.

“Hell of a way to do that, Y/N” Hongjoong spits out.

The rotation has made its way back to San who pulls a ‘dicks drink’ block. All three men pour their shots and down them, less than enthusiastic.

“God, that really does taste like shit” Wooyoung chokes out.

“Told you, asshole!” you say, giggling at their suffering.

Next up is Wooyoung, carefully choosing his block as they are becoming fewer, and the possibility of the tower crashing down becomes greater. A playful smile fills his face as he shows the group the block reading ‘Pepero game’. Wooyoung leans to whisper into San’s ear, and he definitely enjoyed what he heard.

“Ok, since me and San have already decided, and majority rules in this game, Y/N, come here. You’re doing this one with me.” Your eyes widen but you honestly aren’t the least bit surprised. Wooyoung has always loved stirring the pot.

You raise yourself from the loveseat and head over to Wooyoung, Pepero already waiting in his mouth. San scoots over a bit, giving Wooyoung room to scoot over, so you can sit comfortably next to him. As you sit, your eyes glance over at Hongjoong for a brief moment, noticing his tense posture and the clench of his jaw.

Feeding off the fact that you know Hongjoong is becoming increasingly jealous, you take Wooyoung’s face in your hands, and the Pepero into your mouth. You take small, slow bites, the stick disappearing between your lips until they’re centimeters from Wooyoung’s. You close the almost nonexistent gap between the two of you, and press your lips to his. The kiss starts off leisurely, but grows needy rather quickly. You and Wooyoung sharing moans into each others mouths. You partly blame the alcohol. And the rest of the blame goes to Hongjoong, for working you up the entire night.

San sees how hot things are getting between the two of you, and Hongjoong’s extremely pissed off expression that he’s trying unsuccessfully to hide, and decides to interject.

“Alright, challenge over you two!”

San is pulling Wooyoung back and your lips part with a wet pop. You both are panting, trying to catch your breath. In spite of Hongjoong’s jealousy, he is insanely hard, and is fighting every voice in his mind to take you right now in front of San and Wooyoung, and let them know who you really belong to.

You happily make your way back over to Hongjoong, knowing you have very successfully riled him up.

“How ya feeling, Joongi?”

He turns himself on the loveseat, grips your neck in warning, cold rings giving you chills, pulls your ear to his mouth and growls.

“Oh, you thought that shit was cute, huh Y/N?”

Gulping at the suddenness of his aggressive behavior, but being the brat that you are, you decide to see how far you can push his buttons.

“Judging from the way your dick is straining against your jeans, I’d say you thought so too, Joong.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I was you, Kitten.”

“Hmm, does it do tricks?” you say with a giggle as you go cross eyed attempting to look at your own mouth. Hongjoong lets out an exasperated growl and pushes you away by the throat.

He turns his attention back to the tower on the table and seals his fate for his turn.

“Kiss. Hmmm, since I’m the guest tonight, I’m vetoing the majority rules.”

There’s a fire in his eyes as he beckons San over. “San, come here.”

San opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking of protesting, but heads over to you and Hongjoong on the loveseat.

Hongjoong stands just before San reaches him, and grabs San by the shirt and aggressively throws him onto the seat next to you. He knows you’re just as riled up as he is, and he’s gonna make you watch. Payback is a bitch. Hongjoong perches himself onto San’s lap and you and Wooyoung exchange shocked glances.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around San’s neck and begins lapping and leaving hot, wet kisses from his neck, to his ear, along his sharp, defined jawline, until he makes it to San’s lips. San is losing any ounce of control as he grabs Hongjoong’s tiny waist, as Hongjoong begins grinding against him, seeking the slightest bit of friction to help his raging hard on. San and Hongjoong are a mess of teeth, tongue, saliva, and throaty moans, and you’re convinced if Hongjoong was pantless, they would absolutely be fucking each other right here in front of you and Wooyoung.

Nothing can hide just how aroused you are at this point, a wet patch soaking through your sweatpants. Wooyoung doesn’t seem to be faring any better. You know how much he enjoys watching, so this is torture for him. Hongjoong finally parts from San, resting their foreheads together with a breathy ‘fuck’, and Wooyoung lets out a low whine.

“Haha, that’s karma for you two” San grins, looking at you and Wooyoung.

“That’s so unfair” you squeak out.

Hongjoong slips off of where he was perched on San’s lap, allowing him to return to his very horny boyfriend on the opposite couch. Hongjoong notices the wet spot you’re currently dealing with and shows a toothy smile.

“Judging from that nice wet spot, I bet you thought that shit was cute, huh?” throwing your words back at you.

“Fuck you, Joong.”

“Oh, you will.”

You shoot him daggers as you go to pull yet another block from the dwindling tower.

“Strip and sit on someone’s lap for a turn. Really guys?” you whimper.

“Yes, really. And me and Youngie have already decided whose lap that’s gonna be. Come here, pretty.” San motions you over. “Any objections, Joong?”

Hongjoong is balling up his fists so hard that his white knuckles are showing through his meticulously tattoos hands.

“Nope, none at all” venom seeping through his clenched teeth.

San and Wooyoung are fully prepared for what you’re wearing underneath your baggy clothes. Hongjoong, on the other hand, has no idea, and his dick is already leaking profusely. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to wait out your turn.

“Come on babe, lose the clothes” Wooyoung provokes.

You swiftly remove your sweatshirt and sweatpants and toss them aside. In nothing but your skimpy leather harness, that leaves the best parts of you completely exposed, you settle yourself onto San’s waiting lap. Your soaked pussy is already leaving a mess on San’s pants, and feeling his hard dick underneath you is doing nothing to help matters.

“Joong-ah” San coos at Hongjoong who still hasn’t taken a glance in your direction. “Come on. Look at how pretty Y/N is” San purrs right next to your ear, making you clench around nothing.

Hongjoong lifts his head from its resting place, eyes still tightly shut as he rubs his face with his hands in frustration. He drops his hands from his face as he hesitantly begins to open his eyes, letting out a long, deep breath in the process. The second his eyes land on you, every bit of sanity he was holding on to has dissipated. His dark eyes are ablaze, and he’s licking his lips furiously with his pierced tongue. His decorated hands head for his neatly styled locks and he begins pulling at them in want. No. NEED. He needs to taste you, to feel you. IMMEDIATELY.

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?” Hongjoong says with the neediest whine you think you’ve ever heard come from a man.

Now that Hongjoong is focused on you, in an attempt to add fuel to both yours and Hongjoong’s fire, San places feather light touches across your body. Ghosting his fingers up and down your arms, your thighs, your sides, your neck. You shiver, despite the heat coursing through you.

“Shit, my lap is wet” San moans out, making eye contact with Hongjoong over your shoulder.

Hongjoong’s forearms are resting across his thighs, hands folded together, and if looks could kill, San would be a dead man. Envy is pouring off of Hongjoong in waves, and something about that is insanely fucking attractive to you. Wooyoung is whining and whimpering next to you and San, desperate for a tinge of attention.

San cups his boyfriend’s dick, straining desperately against his tight jeans. “Be a good boy, and be patient.”

“Ok, my turn” San says, completely unphased by the death glare given by Hongjoong.

He contemplates for a minute on which block to pull. He pulls his choice and the tower threatens to fall, but his quickness prevents the catastrophe.

“Take a shot, simple enough. Y/N, will you pour me one?” You slide off of San’s lap, onto your knees in front of the table to pour the shot, Hongjoong’s eyes following your every move.

San unconsciously clears his throat, yanking Hongjoong from his thoughts of you on your knees for him. Hongjoong glances at the man across from him, only to see the ever present dark patch now covering San’s lap from your leaking pussy.

You place yourself back into San’s lap, handing him the shot that he downs in one quick swallow, burning be damned. Hongjoong is running the barbell in his tongue across his teeth, giving himself anything to focus on but the sting of jealousy bubbling under his skin.

“It’s your turn, pretty,” San directs at Wooyoung. Wooyoung takes his pick, the tower is almost useless at this point, and you know at your turn, this thing is definitely crumbling.

Wooyoung pulls ‘kiss’ and needily engulfs San’s lips, the latter swallowing Wooyoung’s moans and gasps. They disconnect with a wet smack, saliva still connecting them until San licks his lips. “My needy boy,” San’s smooth voice says to Wooyoung.

Hongjoong is up next, beyond ready to be completely finished with this game of pure torture and takes the last logical option to keep the tower at bay. He doesn’t even bother reading the block aloud, fearful his voice will betray the possessiveness he’s trying to hide at watching you on San’s lap, reveling in his touches. He simply tosses the block on the table and strips down to his boxers.

“Ah, lose pants,” a devilish smirk taking over San’s features.

Your mouth is watering. You can see the imprint of Hongjoong’s huge, thick cock begging to be freed. You swallow hard and lick your lips, trying your best not to drool at the sight.

It is again your turn and you have no possible way of not knocking down the tower. You attempt anyways, choosing one from the middle, and pull the block out halfway before all remaining pieces tumble down onto the table.

“HA! You have to sit in someone’s lap for the rest of the game,” Wooyoung shrieks.

“I’m already in San’s lap though?” Hongjoong shoots you a look that you can immediately decipher.

“No, no babe. You have to sit in someone else’s. San, send her over to Joong.”

San pats your strap covered hip, silently ordering you to stand. You stand, but hesitate to head over to Hongjoong, the glint in his eyes enough to send your full body into a mess of goosebumps. Wooyoung begins resetting the tower as you take slow, calculated steps towards a very angry, very horny Hongjoong. As you reach him and turn to sit in his lap, he grips your hips with such strength, you know it will leave bruises later, and you yelp as he pulls you down onto him.

Wooyoung almost has the Jenga game ready to play again, but you decide now is a good time to test just how far Hongjoong’s sanity has gone by wiggling your ass just slightly against his throbbing dick. He bites down onto the flesh of your shoulder hard, leaving a deep indent of his perfect teeth and you let out something between a sigh and a moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“You know what, fuck this!” Hongjoong finally lets his resolve break, and Wooyung and San jump at his sudden outburst. “I’m done with this fucking game.”

He stands the both of you up and roughly flings you over his shoulder and makes his way to your room.

“Joong, what are you doing?” You protest, hands flailing, trying to find some form of stability.

“What I should have done when I first got here, instead of playing that damn game. You think it’s fun to tease, Kitten? Just you wait.”

“Haha, oh shit. She’s in trouble,” Wooyoung says to San, failing miserably to hold in his laughter.

You reach your room and Hongjoong swiftly places you down and slams the door and clicks the lock in place. He turns to you, features insanely feral, grabs you around your throat, just enough to catch you off guard and pins you against the door. He places hot, messy kisses up your neck to you ear.

“I need to know that you fully consent to what is about to take place, Y/N.” You hum your approval in response. He nips the lobe of your ear, “I need words, Kitten.”

“Yes, Joong. Please,” you manage between pants.

“Mm, no baby, tonight it’s ‘Captain’” he growls as he forcefully slides his leg in between yours.

You grind hard against his thigh as he’s kissing you like his life is dependent on it, hand still wrapped neatly around your throat. The mix of his lip and tongue piercing as he’s tongue fucking your mouth makes your pussy throb.

“Look at you, already a fucked out mess and you haven’t even gotten my cock yet” his whispers against your lips.

“Jump” he demands, and you do as told, and he grips you tight as you wrap legs around his tiny, slutty waist.

He carries you to your bed and with no regard for safety, tosses you onto it. He pulls you to the edge of it, his arms wrapped around your thighs, as you squeak at the sudden movement.

“You enjoy teasing, huh, Y/N?” he grits out as he rolls his rock hard cock against you, drenching his thin boxers in your juices.

He kneels before you as his hot breath tickles your core. “Two can play that game, Kitten.”

“Hongj-!” A sharp slap, followed by a bite to your inner thigh springs a low grunt from you and stops his name from escaping your lips.

“How quickly you forget, gorgeous. I told you, it’s Captain.”

You prop yourself onto your forearms and with one arm, your hand grips his dark locks with an unnecessary amount of force, trying to guide his face to your dripping pussy.

“Captain, please” you whine needily. He removes your hand from his hair.

“Where has that cocky little attitude gone, Y/N, hmmm?” he mocks you, looking at you from between your legs, eyes hazy behind his long, pretty eyelashes. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise. What’s your safe word, Kitten?”

“Utopia” you manage through bated breath.

Once he gets that final piece of information, he begins nipping the flesh of your thigh from your knee, almost to your throbbing heat, very slowly. You lay yourself back down as you fist the sheets in an effort not to place your hands on that beautiful man, who is determined to take you apart piece by piece. You feel his ministrations stop for a few moments, and you think you have a moment to catch your breath. Before you can take a full breath of air, his hot, wet tongue delves past the strap barely covering your dripping cunt. He groans as the taste of you explodes on his tongue.

He rests his head against your thigh for a moment and sucks in a few deep breaths. “Fuck Kitten, you taste so good. Been dreaming about this for months. It's seriously been fucking with my head, you have no idea what you do to me.”. You stare down your body at him, trembling at the dark look he returns as he leans in again and drags the hard ball of his tongue piercing between your slick swollen folds.

Your head falls back and you arch as the jewel teases over your clit. He hums and groans as he explores you, his hands holding your thighs open in a bruising grip. “Fuck Y/N the things I want to do to you,” he groaned against you, the vibrations of his raspy voice against your core driving you wild.

“C-Captain, please!” you whine.

“Mm, what is it Kitten?” he asked, nipping at your thigh with sharp teeth. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Yes…but please let me touch you,” you beg.

He reluctantly leaves his spot from the floor and towers over you as you scoot back to give him room between your legs on the bed. You instinctively wrap your legs around him as he grabs your hands and runs them over his body. He presses his body further into you and nips against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Hmmm, you think you deserve to touch?”

“Please, I’ll be good” you whimper in desperation.

“Then go on baby, make your Captain feel good.”

That was all the permission you needed before you wrapped your mouth around one of his pierced nipples, the metallic taste causing you to hum against him. You lick and suck his sensitive bud, also mixing in a graze of your teeth every so often. You make sure to give his other perky nipple attention as well, lightly rubbing your thumb across it. After a while, you switch sides, making sure each side receives equal care. Hongjoong lets out little pants at the feeling. He swears he could cum just from this alone.

Patience wearing thin, he grips your hair and tugs you off of his nipple with a wet pop, a string of spit still connecting you. He takes in your fucked out expression and before you can complain at the loss of something in your mouth, he returns the same favor to you. He bites and licks and sucks and pinches until you are a blubbering mess under him, back arching at an impossible angle.

“Awww, look at you crying, Y/N. We’re just barely getting started” he mocks as he gently cups your face, wiping the tears that have managed to escape.

“Captain, please! I- I need…” you say between gulps of air.

“You need what, Kitten? I thought I told you to use your words?” he grins at you with a raised eyebrow.

He’s enjoying just how much you can’t form a coherent sentence. You place your arm over your eyes to try and hide just how much he’s affected you. Although it’s absolutely pointless, because he knows. And he’s ready to break you.

While you’ve had your eyes covered, trying to regain control of your breathing, and give Hongjoong a proper response, he is now fully naked in all his glory, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I need you” you whine helplessly.

“Oh, you can have me, baby” lust dripping from his voice as he leans over you to take your arm away from your face. He kisses you, aggressive and hungry, and when he goes to pull back, you chase after his lips.

Now that you’re fully sitting up, and actually see Hongjoong, the sight you came face to face with had you salivating and ready to devour him whole. His hard cock and flushed red tip leaking precum, and just as pierced as the rest of his body. 8 delicately placed and fitted barbells, creating his Jacob’s ladder, and a Prince Albert decorating his tip. Your tongue tingles with a need to have him in your mouth. You lick your lips a let out a hushed ‘fuck’.

“Someone likes what they see, do they?” he says, a cocky smirk playing across his face.

“God. Fuck! Captain.. I need it.” You’re so desperate to have your mouth, your hands, your pussy, around his huge, thick, pretty length. You slide off the bed and you immediately drop to your knees on the plush carpet in front of him.

“Such a good girl, so eager.” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding you to look at him. “As hungry as you are for my cock, you need to be careful, Kitten. Do you understand?” You nod your head and he grips your chin a little tighter.

“Yes! Yes, Captain!” you blurt out before he can render you the reminder.

“Then go ahead and satisfy your appetite, baby.”

He lets go of your chin and your hand makes quick work of spreading his precum, slicking up his dick. He throws his head back in pleasure, finally getting a bit of friction. You place feather light kisses up each side of his length, and a few well calculated ones against his hips. His cock twitches, leaking out another drop, begging to be swallowed, and you smile into his skin. He feels your smile and he entangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back from his hips. He tugs your hair hard enough that you are forced to make eye contact with the absolute demon right now that is Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m getting tired of you being a little cock tease, Kitten. Suck me like you’re starved, or I finish myself off on my own in front of you, and walk out, leaving your pussy dripping and empty. Or maybe I could go ask San and Woo for some help. I know they would be more than happy to.”

As much as the brat in you wanted to test that, the look in his eyes told you he was being serious, and your hole was begging for attention.

You run your hot, wet tongue on the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to each ‘rung’ of his ladder, up to his flushed red pierced tip and lap up the pearl of precum that has settled there. You finally take him into your mouth with a renewed fervor and the moan he lets out is purely pornographic.

“That’s a good girl” he pants, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. The praise makes you dizzy and as much as you want to deep throat his cock, he never lets you take him in too far in fear that he could cause some damage.

You make up for that by making it extremely messy for him, allowing every drop of spit you can manage to coat him. The drool is dribbling from the sides of your mouth, and dripping off his dick onto the carpet underneath him. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, and by the grunts and small moans you can tell he’s close.

Before he lets himself give into ecstasy, he gently and reluctantly forces himself from your skilled mouth and tongue. He takes one look at you and has to grab the base of his cock to stop himself from tipping over the edge. You’re looking up at him with big doe eyes, mouth still slightly open, and your chin and chest soaked from the show you put on for him.

“You just sucked my fucking soul out through my dick. Fuck” he lets out in disbelief while he attempts to even out his breathing.

You stand on shaky legs, and wrap your arms around him to reach behind and grab his tight, round ass and pull him flush against you. You place little bites into the sensitive flesh of his neck, licking after each one.

His hums of pleasure spur you on, until you can’t even take the torture anymore and you whisper against the shell of his ear.

“Please fuck me, Captain. It’s so wet for you.”

You bring one of his hands right to your sopping pussy and begin fucking yourself against it, hoping he’ll give you what you want. He groans, long and low, at the slick now covering his hand, and without warning shoves two fingers inside of your needy hole. You let out a silent scream at the euphoria of something filling you after so long.

“You want my cock? Beg for it, Kitten.”

He continues to fuck into you with his delicate but precise fingers, the wet sloshing of your pussy and your elevating moans filling the room. He sucks deep purple marks into the skin of your neck and chest. The bratty side is winning for the moment, you refusing to beg for him. His fingers find your sweet spot and curve into it, causing you to almost crumble to the floor.

“Come on, beg for it, baby. I can tell you’re close, you’re about to take my damn fingers off with how hard you’re clenching them. So bratty, that you won’t even beg to get your greedy hole stuffed with my cock, hmm? You don’t need my fingers then, either.”

He promptly removes the fingers that were inside, abusing the spongy spot inside of you, and you do indeed crumble to the floor this time.

He looks down at you, the start of tears forming in your eyes from the sudden denial of release, and licks his fingers, being sure to drag his pierced tongue in between them.

“P-please, Captain. Please!” you stutter out, worried that if you don’t, he might really not let you cum tonight.

“Please, what?” he asks sharply, eyebrow raised, still cleaning his fingers from your arousal.

“Please fill me with your cock and fuck me dumb. Make me cum on it. Please, please, please!”

“Bed. Now. Face down, ass up. And I hope you know, I’m taking no pity on you. The amount of teasing I’ve endured from you tonight doesn’t deserve it. Playing with San and Woo in front of my face? Dressing like a little slut? Do you know how insane that makes me? I’m gonna make sure I’m the only thing you think of. Only me.”

His possessiveness only mildly scares you, but you’re too far gone to think about anything else but him fucking your brains out.

“Only you, Captain. Only need you.”

You feel the bed dip behind you, and hear the loud slap before your brain registers the hot sting on your ass. You groan as he places another on the opposite cheek to match, your heated skin tingling as the pain morphs to pleasure. He continues his assault on your ass, voice a deep growl.

“You wanted to piss me off, didn’t you? You wanted me to be rough, hmm?”

All you can do is sigh and whimper in agreement.

He kneads your burning cheeks before running his hands up to your waist and grabs your hips with a bruising grip. He ruts his dick against you, coating it in your wetness, but being careful not to give you what you truly desire.

“Don’t tease, Captain.”

“Don’t tease? You mean don’t do to you what you’ve been doing to me all fucking night?”

He removes his hands from your hips, and one snakes up your body to pinch a sensitive nipple, and the other goes straight for your clit, rubbing purposeful patterns into the bundle of nerves. You jolt at the rush of pleasure and he hums in approval.

“You really are so sensitive, Kitten.”

He dips two fingers inside of your pulsing pussy, and you immediately tighten around them. The heel of his palm is still giving your clit just enough friction. The fire in your gut is increasing at an alarming rate and he can feel your spasms around his fingers, and your legs trembling just slightly, and he knows you’re so close.

“C-Captain. Fuck, I’m so close. Please.. don’t stop!” you plead.

“Oh, baby, I know. Like I can’t feel you throbbing around my fingers, Kitten.” his condescending tone almost pushing you over the edge immediately. Except right before the knot in your stomach snaps, he stops.

“Fuck!” You let out a strangled sob at the second denial of pleasure.

He chuckles as your frustration grows, knowing he is fully enjoying what he’s doing to you.

“Don’t act like you don’t want my pussy just as much as I want your cock” you choke out into the pillow below you.

“Mouthy are we?” He lands another harsh slap on your ass. A hand flies into your hair and tugs, maneuvering your head to the side, so he can get a better look at your flustered face.

“Oh trust me, I do. But my will is much stronger than yours, clearly. I can do this all night.”

He definitely doesn’t want to, but he can. He’s so ready to be buried deep inside you, but he doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction quite yet.

He leans over you to place hot, needy kisses over your back and shoulders, and his hands are back to play with your hard buds, rolling them between his fingers.

“Captain, fuck. P-please just fuck me already. I’m -I’m losing my fucking mind.” Your final plea before you really do lose it.

“Aww, how can I say no when you asked so nicely?”

He straightens himself up and pulls your sore ass cheeks apart, watching your wetness drip out of you as you flutter around nothing in anticipation. “Shit, you’re so wet for me. Gonna drown Captain’s dick, hmm baby?”

“Y-yes. God, yes.” you manage, barely above a whisper.

He teases his pierced tip at your entrance for just a moment, and groans at the slickness. Before you can voice your displeasure at the lack of dick filling you, he very slowly pushes himself into you. So slowly that you can feel every inch, every thick vein, and every single piercing finally engulfed in your tight heat. So slowly, so he can appreciate watching himself disappear and you stretching around his cock.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a lewd moan along with a breath neither of you knew you were holding. His long, thick cock is filling you perfectly and you’re fisting the sheets, trying to get used to the stretch. He’s still, brows furrowed in pleasure, needing to give himself a moment before he moves, or he will cum. Very quickly, and very hard.

“Damn, your pussy fits my cock so nicely. So beautiful and tight.”

You reflexively squeeze him at the words, and he throws his head back with a guttural moan. You’ve had enough of him being still, enough of his teasing, enough of not being fucked into the mattress, so you begin to fuck youself back onto him.

“Just so fucking impatient, aren’t you, Kitten?” He grunts through clenched teeth.

In a matter of seconds, he’s thrusting to meet your movements, pounding into you hard. His pierced dick is dragging against your walls in just the right way, a feeling you’ve never felt, but it’s all you’ll ever think about now.

The sloshing sound of your pussy, the slapping of wet skin against skin, and moans from him, and whimpers from you fill the room. The Prince Albert is hitting your sweet spot with every deliberate thrust of his hips. The Jacob’s ladder adding an extra layer of pressure to everything. You are whimpering and whining and drooling into the pillow below you. Hongjoong is panting and groaning, admiring how your juices coat his dick with a beautiful shine.

“Nng, Captain, it’s so good! God, fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You want me to just ruin this pussy for anyone else, don’t you?”

“Please, please, please!”

“Can’t say no with you begging me so pretty, baby.”

His thrusts do indeed get harder, every drag of his dick allowing that jewelry to make magic and hitting right where you need it, and kissing your cervix in the process too. The heat in your belly is spreading like wildfire, and you want it to be extinguished in the form of finally being able to cum.

Hongjoong can tell you’re teetering right on the edge again. And again, he stops right before you can cum.

“Hold on, just a moment, Kitten. There’s something I have to do.”

“Kim Hongjoong, I swear to fucking god!” Tears are streaming down your face at this point from now being pulled from your orgasm for the third time tonight. You find the strength to push yourself up onto your forearms, catching your breath from dropping from your denied high so quickly.

“Who is Hongjoong, baby?” he lightly giggles as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, his hard dick still nestled inside of you. He places a FaceTime call, and leans over you to set his phone on the shelf in the headboard.

The call picks up, and it’s San on the other end. Your mouth drops in shock.

“I just wanted you to see me ruin her for the shit she’s pulled tonight.” Hongjoong says simply.

“Looks like we both had the same idea in dealing with our brats tonight.”

You watch San moving around, clearly trying to find somewhere to set his phone, and when he leans back from in front of his camera, there’s Wooyoung. In the same state you are. You’re both matching positions, fucked out faces, and tear ridden cheeks.

There’s a silent exchange between San and Hongjoong, but by watching San on Hongjoong’s phone you can definitely tell they’re communicating something.

“Look at you two, so pretty for us.” San coos.

In perfect sync, both San and Hongjoong reach under you and Wooyoung, placing their hands on your throats and pushing you up to sit on your knees, backs flush to their chests.

“We’re all going to watch you two fall apart on our cocks. How’s that sound?” the mischief thick in Hongjoong’s voice.

You and Wooyoung both let a small whimper escape as you make eye contact with each other, knowing you’re absolutely fucked. Hongjoong fits even more snug inside you from this angle and it has you gasping for breath, and dropping your head.

“Youngie, you’re gonna watch Y/N, and Y/N you’re gonna watch Youngie. Understood?” San says with authority that makes both you and Wooyoung shiver.

Wooyoung immediately answers with a soft ‘yes’. You, however, are silent for a beat too long for Hongjoong’s liking, and he clutches your face, lifting you head to look at San and Wooyoung through the lit up screen.

“San asked you a question, Y/N. I believe he expects an answer” he snarls in your ear.

“Y-yes, San.” you breathe out.

“If only she was half as behaved as Youngie, she could have cum already. Three times.”

You knit your eyebrows together in irritation, remembering how many times you've been denied your release, and at the fact that Hongjoong’s dick is sitting heavily inside of you, but he’s not moved an inch since he and San have co-conspired against you and Wooyoung.

San laughs loudly at Hongjoong’s statement.

“You think my little Woo here is behaved? You think he’s got my cock in his tight ass, and his dick pretty and leaking, and tears running down his face because he’s been a good boy? You forget, he was being just as much of a tease as Y/N was tonight, Joong.”

“Shit. Woo looks pretty like that” you mumble. Hongjoong definitely still manages to hear you.

“I agree, Kitten. And so do you. Isn’t that right, Woo?”

“So fucking pretty” Woo huffs.

“Think it’s time we teach them a lesson, San?”

You see the devilish grin appear on San’s face and you know Hongjoong has one to match.

Hongjoong thrusts into you incredibly hard, and you choke on a sob as the wind is knocked from your lungs. If it hadn’t been for his pretty tattooed hand around your throat, you would have fallen forward, face first into the bed.

He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, your slick dripping down your thighs and making a puddle on the sheets below. His pierced tip hitting your sweet spot, and the others raking your walls with each well placed snap of his hips. The noises he’s eliciting from you have become very loud and very lewd. He lets go of your neck and with the next thrust that gives him an opportunity to shove his fingers into your parted mouth, he does just that.

“Suck ‘em, baby. Make ‘em nice and wet for me.”

You give his fingers the same attention you gave his dick earlier, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, cascading down your chin and chest. His unoccupied hand goes to tease a nipple, collecting some of your saliva along the way to make it wet. Your eyes flutter shut for a brief moment at the pleasure lighting every nerve in your body on fire.

“S-Sannie, please. I-I can’t. Too much, need to cum!” Woo’s high pitched pleas snap your eyes back open. You were supposed to be watching him, and hoped that Hongjoong hadn’t noticed your temporary disobedience.

“You’ll come when I say you can, pretty.” San’s voice is gruff as he ruts into Wooyoung, almost animalistic.

Wooyoung’s precum has left a wet patch on the bed in front of him. San reaches around and grabs Wooyoung’s wet, red, and angry cock, and begins stroking him at a tortuous pace. He places soft kisses along his shoulders and neck. Wooyoung is sniveling as San takes his free hand and wipes the tears streaming down his face.

“Come on, you can take it, baby. Show them what a good boy you are.”

San’s praise and Wooyoung’s sobs made you tighten even more around Hongjoong, releasing sobbing moans of your own against his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/N. Taking everything I give you. So wet and so tight, just for me, hmm baby?”

He slides his fingers from your mouth, and runs his hand down your stomach, pressing on the bulge there formed by his cock that you’d only just noticed. You can’t even string together enough words right now to form a sentence if you wanted to. Hongjoong hmphs at your inability to answer.

“This is what you wanted right? To be fucked dumb on my cock?” His voice is tight, and from his even faster pace, you can tell he’s close. All you can do is frantically nod at his words.

San looks just as close to cumming as Hongjoong feels. Hongjoong’s hand leaves your stomach and brings it straight to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and pace to have your eyes rolling back and your mind going blank.

“Captain, fuck. I-I can’t. Please. Please let me cum!”

San is vigorously stroking Wooyoung and you can see him struggling against San from his overstimulation. You and Wooyoung are both seconds from cumming and if they don’t let you this time, you’re sure you’re going to pass out. You and Wooyoung flick your eyes back to each other, as San and Hongjoong place a hand on each of your throats, putting just enough pressure to make your heads spin, but not enough that you can’t breathe. They speed up even faster against your clit, and Wooyoung’s dick. Both of your breathing is uneven, chests heaving, and nothing can control the sobs and moans that escape the both of you.

“Cum for me, Youngie.”

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

You and Wooyoung look right into each other's eyes as you convulse and cum around Hongjoong and San’s cocks. You string along a chant of ‘Captain’ and a few choice words as stars dance around your vision as it goes white. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, and the already arousal stained sheets double in their pool of wetness as you squirt. Wooyoung’s garbled moan of San’s name joins yours of the Captain’s as thick, white, seemingly never ending ropes of cum spurt from Wooyoung’s cock.

The sight of you two falling apart for them, had them following seconds behind you. You were a rag doll as this point, as Hongjoong continued to fuck into you, chasing his own pleasure. After a few more quick, sharp thrusts, he cums with a long, whiny moan as he sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder.

San fills Wooyoung’s ass as he cums with a resounding growl, burying his face into Wooyoung’s neck. After a few moments, he pulls out and gently lowers an exhausted Wooyoung into a clean spot on the bed.

Hongjoong does the same with you, and your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow. You can hear San and Hongjoong whispering to each other, barely able to make sense of their words. Until you hear “We’ll have to do this again, minus the phones.”

San hums in agreement. “I think that’s an amazing idea, Joong.”

“We’d better go take care of our good little babies. We’ll talk in more detail later, San.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

Hongjoong grabs the water bottle and fruit snacks from the nightstand next to you.

“Sit up for me baby, you need this.”

He sits in front of you and helps you sit up and unscrews the cap off the water bottle and brings it to your lips. You gulp it down like you’ve been stuck in the desert with no water for 3 days.

“Good girl, eat these too.” he says as he feeds you your favorite fruit snacks. You hadn’t even seen him prepare all of this beforehand, and you smile contentedly as his care.

As your brain clears, you take his hands and interlace your fingers with his.

“That was amazing.”

He cups your face and flashes his toothy grin at you. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wasn’t too rough? You’re ok?”

“Joongi, you were perfect. I’m ok, I promise. We put a safe word in place for a reason.”

“Indeed we did.” he laughs lightly. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go run us a bath, we’re a mess.”

His naked form heads to the en suite bathroom and fills the tub with water just hot enough to relax the two of you, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He pours a splash of lavender oils and bubbles into it and swirls them around.

He returns to you on the bed with a warm washcloth and gently cleans you up a bit before he scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the bath.

He carefully sets you down, letting you test the steadiness of your legs, before he begins ridding you of the body harness. Once he’s finished and tossed it to the side, he lends you his arm so you can step into the bath. You sigh deeply, the hot water relaxing your sore body. Hongjoong clambers in after you and makes himself comfortable behind you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he circles his arms around your waist as he litters your face and neck with soft, tender kisses. You giggle, and you can feel him smile into one of his kisses.

“You’re perfect, Y/N, do you know that?”

“Nahh, far from it. But you, Kim Hongjoong? You just might be.”

“Pfft, absolutely not, baby. But for you I’d try to be.” He sees the bite mark he left on you and kisses it, satisfied that you’ll have a reminder of him, even if for a little while. “Looks good on you. I’ll be sad when it’s gone.” he says without even thinking.

“You could always make more, you know.”

He blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t realize I said that out loud.”

You laugh at his realization. “But you did, and I meant what I said.”

You two fall into deep conversation, talking about dreams and aspirations, what you hope your future to look like, past relationships, family, anything that comes to mind, until the water turns cold. You begin to shiver a bit and that puts Hongjoong into motion.

He climbs out of the tub and you pout and the loss of him around you.

“Come here, it’s cold now, let’s get you into some comfy PJs.”

You take his hand and follow him and he dries you off as best as he can. He dresses you both in a fluffy robe to head back into the room. He urges you to sit on the bed while he rummages through your dresser to find something for you to wear.

“Ah ha! Here we go!” he says triumphantly as he heads to you with a matching purple silk pajama set.

“There should at least be some sweats in there for you that’ll fit that tiny little waist of yours, Captain.” you say playfully. He fishes those out as well, and heads back to you on the bed.

“I’m capable of dressing myself, Joong.” you say through tiny giggles as he helps you into your pajamas.

“Yeah, I know, but like… I just wanted to help. Sue me.” he retorts, acting like he is truly offended.

He gets onto the opposite side of bed and pulls you to him, laying you both down, clutching you tightly to his chest. He tucks you both into your down comforter and nuzzles into your neck.

“So warm.” he whispers into your neck. If he were a cat, you’re damn sure he would be purring right now.

“Hey, so what’s this I heard you talking about with Sannie? Something about doing this again? Without the phones? I was kind of out of it, but I think that’s what I heard?”

“Shit, I definitely thought you were asleep. But I mean, I would like to explore the option, if all parties involved are in agreement.”

“You’ll hear no objections from me!”

Just then your phone dings.

Wooyoungieeee

Holy shit, that was amazing. We should make out and piss them off more often ;)

You type out your response to him rather quickly

I think that might be in the plans, Woo lol

“Well, Woo is down” you show Hongjoong your text from him.

“And clearly so are San and I. So that settles that then. We are absolutely putting down some ground rules for you two naughty brats, though.” he showers your cheek with kisses.

“Ok baby,” he says with a yawn, his hand on your stomach under your pajama shirt rubbing little comforting circles, “I know we’re both exhausted, you especially. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk more about all of that tomorrow.”

“Ok, Joongi. Thank you again for tonight, and thank you for taking care of me.”

“That’s not something you ever have to thank me for, but you are more than welcome, baby.”

You let out a content sigh at the warmth and comfort from Hongjoong wrapped around you. You can hear his breathing slow and even, and that is what finally lulls you to sleep.

Read the next part of the series here.

[wcnderlnds]

shutup | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: peter cant stand you, you cant stand him so obviously you end up trapped in a closet together ・❥・word count: 1.9k ・❥・warnings: smut! 18+. unprotected p in v, slight choking, swearing, confined space. ・❥・ authors note: it’s badly written smut i’m so sorry

Friday nights at the mansion were usually quiet. After a hard week of training and missions it was usually the time everyone took to wind down and take some time for themselves. This week, however, Jean had suggested the team hang out and play a game of spin the bottle. Anyone the bottle landed on had to go have seven minutes in heaven with that person.If it was up to you, you would’ve avoided it all together but since everyone else was there, you would be too. There was no way you were missing out and listening to everyone talking about it the next day.

That was how you found yourself sat cross legged between Scott and Kurt. Drinks had been flowing, empty red solo cups scattered across the floor. It was now your turn to spin the bottle. Reluctantly, you grabbed it giving it a quick turn and watching in anticipation. There was only one person you didn’t want it to land on. Peter Maximoff.

You couldn’t stand him and he couldn’t stand you. It had always been that way since the moment you met. Quips were thrown at each other, insults (playful yet still annoying) tossed back and forth — it was the normal for you. Peter irritated you no matter what he did. Sure, he was attractive and he did have some redeeming qualities but there was something about him that programmed your brain to want to bother him any time you saw him.

So, of course the bottle had landed on him. Protests came from both of you but the others weren’t having it. They had to practically shove you into the closet. Seven minutes in heaven? More like seven minutes in hell. The whole time was spent with you and Peter bugging the shit out of each other. The second the seven minutes were up, Peter grabbed for the door.

Only, it didn’t open.

“You’re kidding me?!” Peter’s palm smacked hard against the wooden closet door. No matter how much he tried to pull the handle or push the door, it woudn’t budge. It was like his worst nightmare come to life. What awful things had he done in his life to be stuck in a goddamn store room closet with you of all people? Maybe this was some stupid prank the guys were pulling on him. “Scott, you better not be fuckin’ with me or I swear.”

“We can’t get it open,” Scott’s muffled voice could be heard from the other side. “Just hang tight and we’ll find help.”

Peter groaned, hitting his forehead against the door in frustration. He needed them to be quick. Not only was he stuck in here with the person he couldn’t stand but Peter wasn’t someone that could handle normal time. He ran on his own Peter time — the world going too slowly for him. Usually he was going a mile a minute. Being still was not something he could do. The wait would be agonising.

”You’re so dramatic,” you rolled her eyes, arms folded across your chest which coincidentally ended up pushing your boobs up higher. Peter couldn’t help but glance at your cleavage. He was but a man. As much as he despised you, he couldn’t deny you had a ‘totally banging body’ as he’d once put it to Kurt.

With a scoff his eyes landed back on your face. “You’re annoying.”

“So are you.”

“You’re more annoying.”

“Your face is annoying.”

“Real mature,” you fought the urge to give him the middle finger. Instead, you backed up against the small metal shelving unit to try and put as much space in between you and Peter but it was pointless. There was barely any space to begin with — the store cupboard a simple small room with a shelving unit and some cleaning equipment stacked up against the wall.

“I’d rather get my leg broke by Apocalupse again than be stuck here with you. Or, hell, I’d rather go tell Magneto he’s my dad. Maybe even get hit by a truck or have no fingers so I could never play Pac Man again. All of that would be less tortuous and less painful than being stuck in here with you,” Peter groaned, his head thrown back against the wall he was leaning again. His Adam’s apple bobbing, giving you the perfect view of his neck. If this was some alternate reality, you’d probably take this chance to make out with him, pressing wet kisses along the nape of his pretty little neck. But, alas, you were in this reality — the one where you couldn’t stand the annoyingly handsome speedster. Rather unfortunately really because he was nice to look at. Just a shame he was a pain in the ass.

“Yeah? Well, it’s not a picnic for me either, stuck here with you, Pietro.” If there was one thing about Peter it was that he despised anyone but his mom calling him his proper name. It was a sure fire way to get under his skin. By the way Peter’s cheeks flamed red, you knew it had worked.

“Don’t call me that,” he clenched his jaw, fingers tapping against his thigh — the irritation and impatience at being stuck in the small confined space more than evident.

“Why not, Pietro?” You fluttered your eyelashes with a mocking tone. Sarcastic, even.

“Stop.”

“Pietro. Pietro. Pi-“ Before you could register what was happening, Peter’s lips were crashing into yours in a clash of frustration. With wide eyes, you pushed his shoulders to get his damn lips off you. “What are you doing?!”

“I need you to shut up and stay shut up.” His lips were back on yours in an instant. His lips were warm — tasting of bubblegum and the twinkie he’d just been eating before the two of you had been pushed into the dimly lit room. There was barely any time to register his tongue pushing into your mouth. Your lips parted, meeting his tongue with your own, the two of you both fighting for control. It was messy, it was rough but you weren’t complaining. Peter’s trailed along your jawline down to your neck. He bit down, sucking the skin to leave a red mark he knew would turn into a hickey in no time at all. Was he doing it out of spite so you’d have to explain to everyone how you got it? Absolutely. “You’re annoying but, ugh, you’re so fucking hot.”

His hands slid down to the curve of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh there, his lips finding yours again. Peter’s body was flush against yours. He could feel your breasts against his chest and he was now regretted that he hadn’t took your shirt off. His hips slowly started to grind against yours — his bulge rubbing directly against your clothed core. He gave your ass a squeeze as you mumbled cheekily against his lips. “I’d say the same but….”

Peter narrowed his eyes and in a blink of an eye his hand was up your skirt pushing your panties to the side. His expert fingers exploring between your folds. You were already so damn wet, he could feel you coating his fingers. “Yeah, well, this says different.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, biting back the soft gasp that was threatening to spill when he pushed two of his fingers easily inside you. He wasted no time at all pumping them at an unforgiving pace. Your plush walls felt like heaven against his fingers. So tight. He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside you — something he’d thought about many times but that was a secret he’d keep to himself. There was nothing gentle about this. His fingers curled inside you, trying desperately to get that moan to fall from your lips. He succeed, the sound going straight to his dick. The shit eating grin on his face made you want to slap him. “Don’t get too cocky.”

Peter pulled his fingers from you manoeuvring you so your ass was pressed against him. It was no secret what was about to happen so you reached your hands out to grab onto the shelf for support in anticipation. Peter leaned over, his voice rough as he spoke into your ear.“Pretty sure I said I wanted you to shut up.”

“Make me then,” you challenged as you rubbed your ass against him, the most delicious groan filling your ears. Without looking back you could hear the familiar sound of a zip been undone and Peter hissing as the cool air hit his length. “For someone who’s name is Quicksilver, you sure are slow.”

That’d do it. Without even a warning Peter thrust his cock into you, filling you to the hilt. A loud moan passed your lips causing Peter to reach his hand around to cover your mouth. “Shutup! We don’t need anyone hearing us.”

He set an unrelenting pace, pounding into you with determination. The fingers on his free hand dug into your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you. His cock was hitting every sweet spot. It was hard not to cry out especially when Peter hit you with a particularly hard thrust, stilling inside you. To tease you, he stayed buried and ground against you. Every inch was inside you and you could feel it all. The sensation of feeling so full making you squirm. “You gonna be quiet?”

You nodded your head desperately. You needed him to move. At this point you didn’t care how pathetic you looked. Seemingly happy, Peter pulled out then rammed himself back into you. He leaned over your body, his hand lightly wrapping around your neck to pull your back flush against him as he continued to move into you hard and fast. Your hands tightly gripped the metal of the shelves, the cool metallic digging into your skin but it gave Peter enough support to trail his other hand round your body giving one of your tits a squeeze through your shirt. Unfortunate that he didn’t get a proper look at them.

“You’re so much nicer when you’re quiet,” he grunted, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the small cupboard.

“Bite me, Maximoff.” So, he did, softly biting down on your shoulder, the hand around your neck squeezing just a little. “Fuck.”

Peter could tell you were close. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your body trembling with the effort of staying upright. His release was so close.

His hand slid down from your neck, rubbing tight circles against your clit and that was your undoing. Before the loud moan could escape, Peter brought his over hand over your mouth to muffle the cries as your pussy clamped down around him. With one final brutal thrust, he buried himself inside you, burying his own moan in your neck.

All was quiet beside the panting as you both caught your breath back until the door handle started to jiggle like someone was trying to open it.

“Oh shit “ Peter pulled out of you lightning fast, tucking himself back in his pants just in time because the door opened revealing Scott. “About time.”

“Sorry! At least you didn’t kill each other,” Scott’s eyes darted between the both of you. Nervously, you smoothed your skirt out hoping he didn’t see your flushed cheeks. Peter’s hair was a ruffled mess but he didn’t seem to care about anything other than getting out of there.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, gotta run,” he turned back to you with a knowing smirk. “Glad I finally figured out how to shut you up.”

Before you could say anything, he was gone in a blur of silver. “I hate you!” You called out anyway just to feel better.

Because, even if he had just given you one of the best fucks of your life, you really did despise him and nothing would change that.

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @xmidnight-rain @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @juliamaximoff @honeymoon8 @lacucarachapisser @evanpetersbf

[alessiasfreckles]

she's mine (georgia stanway x reader)

inspired by she's mine by eva westphal / life with your adhd girlfriend, georgia

warnings: none

a/n: this is in no way me saying that georgia stanway has adhd (or that she takes medication)!!!!! but as someone with adhd, it wouldn't surprise me if she does. also the bit about pronouncing words differently is word for word what i said to my girlfriend that made her ask me to marry her so

--------

I love her the days she forgets to text back Her phone is on silent, sometimes I get mad

“I’m sorry,” Georgia says when she comes through the front door. She’s biting her lip and her thumb and finger rub together, the way they do when she’s anxious. 

“It’s okay,” you say simply. You can’t help but feel mildly annoyed, but you know she didn’t do it on purpose, and you know that being mad at her isn’t going to help, it’ll just make her feel worse.

“I just- my phone was on in my bag, and I thought I’d walk home since the weather is so nice for once, and I was listening to music and kind of zoned out and my phone was on silent and-” she rambles, trying to explain herself.

“G, it’s okay, I promise,” you hug her gently, and her body sags against yours.

“You’re not mad?” she asks, and her voice sounds so small, so unsure.

“No, baby, I’m not mad,” you tell her. “I was worried, that’s all. Normally you’re home by 4, but you weren’t, and you know how I get worried. But I’m not mad.”

You feel her nod against your shoulder, still wrapped in your arms. She pulls away just enough to be able to look at you, your arms still resting on her shoulders, hers around your waist. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” she says. “I’ll try to remember to message you next time, or at least put my phone on loud so I notice if you message me or try to call me.”

“Thank you, baby,” you tell her, kissing her sweetly. “That’s all I need.”

I love her the weeks she can't get out of bed I love every curl, every hair on her head

“What if I quit?” she asks one day. She’s been having ‘bad brain days’, as she calls them, a lot lately. Constantly flip-flopping between having no energy and wanting to stay in bed, and being so restless she could scream. 

“Quit?” you ask, drawing circles on her back as she lays next to you in bed. 

“Quit football,” she mumbles into the pillow. “What if I just quit football?”

She’s not really asking that, and you know it. She just feels trapped at the moment. Understimulated and overwhelmed at the same time. Her brain needs action, excitement, something to focus on. 

“You don’t want to quit,” you tell her, kindly. “I mean, it’d be okay if you did, but I don’t think you do, really. Do you?”

“No,” she sighs, and rolls over on the bed, starfishing. One arm is draped over you, and the smooth underside of her wrist absentmindedly rubs against the crook of your elbow. “I guess not.”

You can see her brain running a million miles an hour. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask. 

She shrugs. “I don’t know how. There’s too many thoughts, I don’t know how to put them into words, or how to start.”

“You can just say words. I’ll piece it together,” you tell her, and she flashes a smile at you, grateful for how well you understand her.

She thinks for a minute, quiet, and you wait patiently, knowing not to push her. She’ll start talking when she’s ready. 

“I just want my brain to chill the fuck out,” she says finally, and all you can do is nod and press a kiss to her forehead. 

I love her the nights she complains that she's cold But I'm always warm, so I give her my coat

“I don’t understand!” she exclaims, shivering slightly. “Why does it feel so cold? It’s not like it doesn’t get this cold in England, if anything, it’s warmer here! We’re much further south!”

You slip your coat off. You’ve lived here much longer than she has, you’ve gotten used to the weather. Plus, like any good German (or person living in Germany), you understand the importance of layering, so you usually have enough layers on to keep you warm, even without a coat. 

She blushes when you help her slip into your coat. Grabbing the collar, you pull her in for a kiss, and when you pull away, she’s smiling.

“You know,” you say, tilting your head slightly. “I’m starting to think you just like wearing my coats.”

“Hm,” she hums, leaning forward to kiss you again. “Maybe.”

Oh, I even love her when she's running late I'm always on time so I'll work while I wait

You’re sitting in a café when your phone vibrates. Before you check it, you already know that it’s a message from Georgia. 

sorry i’ll be there soon i promise!!!

If you had to guess, you’d say it was going to be about 15 minutes before she got to the café. You didn’t mind. You went to the café every Wednesday afternoon. She’d meet you there after training, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. At first, it had annoyed you. You felt like she was saying you weren’t important enough for her to prioritise. After a while, you realised how hard she was trying, and that it really wasn’t her fault. Her time blindness made it hard for her to realise how much time had passed, a couple minutes easily turning into half an hour. She would set timers, alarms, reminders, but most of the time her brain would just block them out. You’d grown to enjoy the time alone before she arrived, planning for it, bringing a book or a podcast.

Ten minutes after you received the message, the bell above the café door tinkles as she comes flying in. She slides into her seat at your usual table, the one in the corner by the window so you can people-watch. 

“I’m sorry I’m late!” she says quickly. Her face is flushed and her hair is windswept, still slightly damp from showering after training. She frowns, remembering something the two of you had talked about, about saying thank you, rather than apologising. “Wait, no. Thank you for waiting for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you,” you tell her, and she smiles.

She is funny and clever and kind She says whatever pops in her mind, oh And she's so fucking weird, that when she's with me I'm laughing most of the time And she's mine, she's mine

“Have you ever thought about how weird it is that we pronounce words the way we do?” she asks, and you blink at her, sleepily. She’s sat up in bed, looking wide awake.

“Babe, it’s 7:30 in the morning,” you say, eyes watering as you hold back a yawn.

“Good morning,” she says, kissing you. “Anyway. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Uh, not really,” you sit up, joining her, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. “How long have you been awake?”

“Mh, like, an hour? I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Oof, I’m sorry.”

She waves a hand and keeps talking, undeterred. “Like, imagine if we pronounced pineapple like Minneapolis. Pin-ee-a-pol-is. Or what if Dwayne was pronounced like Kanye. Dwan-ye. Actually, I guess that one doesn’t work. The ‘y’ is in the wrong place.” she says, frowning.

You burst out laughing.

“What?” she says.

“I love you,” you tell her, and kiss her until she can’t even remember how to pronounce her own name properly. 

I love her when she forgets to plan ahead I love her when she repeats what she's just said

“Oh, did I tell you that I’m starting on Thursday?” Georgia says as she rummages through the drawer of her bedside table.

“That’s great, baby!” you say. She starts most games now, but you’re still filled with pride every time she walks out onto the pitch.

“Shit,” she says, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

She holds up her medication bottle, upside down. “I forgot to order a refill.”

“Ah,” you say. You can see her initial frown of realisation turning into one of frustration. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll call and order a new one as soon as the doctor’s opens.”

She nods silently, still frowning.

“What are you thinking?” you ask, gently, and she shrugs.

“Feel stupid. This happens nearly every month,” she says, voice small and angry.

You hug her tightly, staying there until you feel her tense body start to relax against you.

“You’re not stupid,” you tell her, voice calm but serious. “You’re not. I promise.”

She huffs a little, sagging. “But I always do this.”

“That doesn’t make you stupid. It just means that your brain isn’t very good at remembering things like this,” you say, rubbing circles on her back. 

She nods, frustration and anger quickly ebbing away. “Hey, did I tell you that I’m starting in the game on Thursday?” she asks, perking up, and you giggle.

Oh, I even love her when she's fast asleep I'll keep her warm when we're under the sheets

“Chilly,” she mumbles into your pyjama top as she spoons you, holding you tightly.

“You’re just using me for my warmth,” you tease, and you can feel her nodding against your back. You squeal when she puts her cold feet on the back of your legs, and her body shakes slightly as she laughs.

“You’re so nice and warm,” she sighs, wriggling to try and get closer to you.

“You know, you’d probably be warmer if you wore pyjamas,” you tell her, smiling, already knowing what she’s going to say.

“Gross,” she says. “I’ll feel all trapped and sweaty and suffocated. Ugh, and what if there’s itchy tags? No, thank you.”

“You know, you can cut the tags out,” you say, laughing.

She shakes her head against you. “No, thank you,” she repeats, voice thick with sleep.

You wake up during the night to pee, and when you crawl back into bed, you look at the sleeping form of your girlfriend. She’s curled in a ball, the duvet pulled tightly around her. As you wriggle under the covers and wrap an arm around her waist, her back against your front, she lets out a content sigh, leaning into your warmth.

She is funny and clever and kind, oh She says whatever pops in her mind, oh And she's so fucking weird, that when she's with me I'm laughing most of the time And she's mine, she's mine

“Oh, baby, are you crying?” you ask, looking over to Georgia, who’s sniffling, curled up in the corner of the sofa.

“No,” she says, looking at you with tears streaming down her face.

“Darling,” you say, holding an arm out so she can cuddle into your side. “It’s okay! It’ll all be okay!”

“B- but,” she sniffs, wiping a tear away. “He doesn’t know that! He’s just a little baby!” 

She gestures to the TV, where Brother Bear is playing. Somehow, she’s never seen the film, and as it’s one of your favourites, you decided it was finally time for her to see it. 

You look at her, fresh tears welling up in her eyes as she watches the little bear, and you can’t help but giggle, heart overflowing with love and adoration.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asks, but you can hear laughter in her voice, despite the tears. 

“No,” you say, pressing your lips together firmly, body shaking as you try to contain it. 

“You are!” she gasps dramatically, looking at you with wide eyes. “I can’t believe I’m crying and you’re just laughing at me!”

You poke the corners of her mouth, which are wiggling up and down as she tries to keep herself from laughing. She swats your hand away, but it’s too much and she can’t keep it in any longer. You both dissolve into a fit of giggles, and she has to wipe new tears away, but this time they’re from laughing so hard.

“See!” she says, in between laughter. “Now I’m crying again!”

She can’t keep a straight face, though, and neither can you.

When you’ve both finally calmed down, you can’t help but kiss her. “I love you,” you mumble into the kiss, and she smiles against your lips. 

“I love you, too,” she replies, eyes sparkling brightly.

And I see her smoking a cigarette Dancing through fountains you almost fell in You're drinking red bull at night when I can't have my coffee past 12pm And I'm so fucking grateful for every bullet I dodged to get to you Yeah, I'm so thankful for every moment I've got with you

You’re walking through a park in Munich on a summer evening, enjoying the warm air, when you come across a playground. There’s a big rope pyramid in the middle, surprisingly tall, considering it’s supposedly made for children.

“Hey, babe,” Georgia says. “Bet you I can climb up that in 10 seconds.”

“10 seconds?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah!” she nods enthusiastically. “From the start to the top. Easy.”

“Hm,” Pretending to think about it, you squint at the pyramid. “What do I get if you don’t manage it?”

“A kiss.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll get a kiss anyway.”

“Fine, I’ll put away the laundry tomorrow,” she says and you hum, not convinced. Her eyes brighten. “And I’ll do that thing you like in bed when we get home. You know, with the vibrator, and-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you say, quickly looking around to make sure no one was nearby. “Fine. If you win, what do you get?”

“A kiss. And a massage when we get home,” she grins.

“Deal.”

“Can you time it on your phone?” she asks eagerly, bouncing up and down on her feet, and you laugh. “But don’t start it until I say go!”

“Okay, okay!” you chuckle, and she bounds towards the pyramid. She waits at the bottom, watching you, waiting for you to have your phone out. 

“You ready?” she calls out, and you nod, giving her a thumbs up. “Okay, now!”

You start the timer as she scales the pyramid, reaching the top with 3 seconds to spare. 

“7 seconds!” you yell up to her, and she lets out an excited whoop, pumping her fist into the air. She stands up briefly, then sits down on the rope again. You watch her look around, frowning. “You okay, baby?” you call.

“Yeah, I, um,” she says, running a hand through her hair, and says something so quietly that you can’t hear it.

“What?”

“I- I don’t know how to get down!” she yells, and you can see the blush on her cheeks from where you’re stood.

“What do you mean? Just climb down, like you climbed up,” you call.

“I can’t! It’s too high!”

You watch her frowning, arms folded across her chest, when you have a realisation. “Wait, baby, are you scared of heights?”

“Um,” she says, not looking at you. “Maybe?”

“Okay, hang on.”

You climb the pyramid, and when you reach the top, she clings onto your hand. Slowly, the two of you make your way down together, you telling her where to put her feet. When you’re on the ground, she looks at the ground sheepishly, cheeks still pink from embarrassment. 

“I may have, um, gotten overexcited,” she admits, and you laugh.

“You? Overexcited? No, surely not!” you tease, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes, and you take her hand and pull her close, kissing her until she forgets about the fact that she needed your help to climb down. 

You are funny and clever and kind, oh You say whatever pops in your mind, oh And you're so fucking weird, that when you're with me I'm laughing most of the time And you're mine, you're mine Mine

[charmedbystars]

bored. (e-42 miles morales)

pairing: e-42 miles x reader

summary: you're bored and who else better than your pretty boyfriend to annoy?

content: no warnings!

a/n: this is just a super short blurb that popped in my brain. i was also listening to sneaky snitch while writing this so feel free to listen to that while reading this lol.

now, you weren’t a high-maintenance girlfriend who constantly had to be out. you were content with staying at home with miles, but it has been like this since summer started. occasionally, you guys would go out to restaurants or walk around the mall, but doing that every day took the fun out of it. 

so it was a normal summer evening. the air conditioning was blasting. the sun was setting. a random show was on the tv just for background noise. well, it was background noise for you, miles was actually paying attention. could you help it though? you’ve been pressed up against miles’ chest for 2 hours just binge-watching the same show. 

groaning out loud and shifting around on miles’ chest is what caught his attention. “you good mamas?” he asked. while shifting around, an idea suddenly sprouted in your head. leaning up to look down at miles, you smirked before going to a neutral expression quickly so he doesn’t get suspicious.

“hey miles… i need to ask you a serious question.”

“yeah was good? everything ‘kay?” he looked up at you in confusion with brows furrowed. 

“yeahh it’s just… do you love me?” 

“what are you even asking ma? ‘course i do.”

“are you sure?” 

“i can’t believe you’re asking me this,” he throws his head back.

“i’m being serious like do you love me three thousand percent?”

“what’s up with that number?”

“milesssss you’re not answeringgg that means you don’t love meeeee,” you whined. of course, you were joking but you wanted to have a little fun and what better way than annoying your boyfriend?

“you seriously cannot be doubting my love for you right now. look at where you are right now,” he gestured his arms around before going back to wrap them around you. “but if you’re asking, yes i love you very much. tu tienes mi corazon, lo sabes.”

“mmm okay miles. i’m taking your word.”

“girl you better be because i got you living.”

“yeah whatever,” you rolled your eyes before leaning back down to lie on his chest and like nothing ever happened, all of miles’ attention goes back to the tv screen in front of you. although the interaction got rid of your boredom a bit, all you wanted to do now was annoy your cute boyfriend. since you just ambushed him with questions, you waited a couple minutes before making your next move. 

what was your next move? poking miles’ face. your finger went up to poke his cheek once. getting no reaction from him, you poked his cheek again causing him to look down at you. 

“is there something you want?”

“no,” you simply grinned at him. aannddd attention right back to the screen. this time you went to boop his nose making a little “boop” sound with it too. 

“you think you’re so cute, huh?”

“well, as a matter a fact, i know i’m cute. no thinking required.” 

“baby, are you sure you don’t want something?”

“well, now that you ask again, yes i want something. i want your attention, i need you to do something. your sole reason for being my boyfriend is to entertain me.”

“oh so i’m just here to play around, huh?” he raised an eyebrow and you nodded with no hesitation. you should’ve thought of a better response than that because now you’re regretting everything when you feel yourself getting flipped around on the couch. miles on top of you now, legs holding you in place while his hands quickly went to your side tickling you. you squealed and laughed and kicked your legs around trying to get him to stop.

“miles stop! ple- AHAHA NO!” your pleading would not make miles stop at all. “miles i- i can’t breATHE,” you yelled and he stopped. you look up at him catching your breath and all he did was stare you down with a smirk on his pretty face. 

“you’re the worst person ever” 

“aww baby, don’t lie. i know you love me and i don’t even have to ask.”

[changisworld]

Caught out (part two of this headcanon)

PART TWO OF THE PERV!FELIX POST

i recommend reading the headcanon(linked above) but you don’t need to:)

word count; 4,113

18+MDNI!! smut warnings under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

any comments/ re blogs are deeply appreciated!!

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: pet names; bunny,babe,baby, slut,gorgeous etc, praise, degradation, cunnilingus, mention of sex toys(using some too) dacryphilia, brief biting, marking, overstimulation, mention of safe word(not used though), multiple orgasms, squirting, nippleplay, cum eating, mention of fantasies, Dom!Felix Sub!Reader, mean felix but soft at the end, Perv!Felix, slight perv! reader?

Felix is currently sitting in his bedroom, phone in hand & purposely holding his breath just so the recording, the recording of the noises you were making, you masterbating through the shared bedroom wall, whining & moaning as the wet sounds fill the room you are in, weren’t being ruined by the noise of his breaths.You were completely unaware that Felix has videos & images of you, unaware that he is RECORDING your moans for his own sick pleasure, to look back on it, to add it to his collection of you. He heard the incessant vibrating of your vibrator switch off, much to his dismay, then he hears you getting up & grabbing something before heading to your bathroom, presumably to shower.

Felix stays quiet until he hears the shower turning on, before he silently creaks open his door & tiptoes to your bedroom, only one thing in his mind, your panties. He gets to your bedroom(thank goodness for your bedroom door being open so it won’t make noise) before stepping inside.

He instantly realised the raw smell of you, your juices, filling the room. He would have moaned at the smell if he knew you weren’t just across the hallway. He begins scanning the room for the clothes you were wearing, hoping you had took them all off in your bedroom before walking for the shower, which turns him even more, imagining you walking from your room to the shared bathroom.. naked. He looks over at the side of the bed you sleep in, but your clothes aren’t there. He frowns, but doesn’t let it dishearten him, as he gets onto his hands & knees to look under your bed &… oh. Felix can’t help but widen his eyes at what he sees under your bed. Your blue, long wand vibrator lying there, on top of a box. Felix can’t help but slide the vibrator out from under the bed & hold it, examining the blue object in his hand. He takes a mental note that it still smells like you, raw & beautiful. before he can mentally slap himself, he pokes his tongue out past his lips & licks the top of the wand, the same part that was on you, pleasuring you.. not even ten minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath at your taste. He licks the top of it like a lollipop a few more times before listening to make sure he can still hear the shower on, before he reaches under your bed again to grab the box the vibrator was sitting on, seeing what is inside. He knew what was probably going to be inside the box but he didn’t expect this. Inside the box, there was fluffy handcuffs, a glass dildo along with a natural looking dildo beside it. There were other things like nipple clamps, butt plugs, flavoured lube etc. Felix lifts his shaky hand to begin touching it but before his hand makes any sort of contact, he hears your bedroom door swing open. Felix jumps & let’s go of the box & it falls the small distance to the floor, sending some of the toys flying.

“Felix what- why are you holding my sex toys?” you look at him, wide eyed & in shock, your brain running at a million miles a second.

“I-i, i’m so-so sorry y/n, i, i dont kn-know what came over me.. i’ll le-leave the house y/n, i’m so so sorry, i know i’m a cr-creep i’ll move out” Felix mouth is completely rambling out, his eyes watery & him visibly shaking. He is trying to look at you in your eyes to show his sincerity but can’t help but have his eyes trail over your figure in nothing but a towel, water still dripping down.

“Felix!! just calm down! just tell me what the fuck you’re doing!!”You notice the way his eyes are trailing you & you smile internally, despite the situation, you know how hot felix is… you’re not blind. You get into your knees in front of him & take his shaky hands in yours

“i.. i just, y/n i know im a pervert im so sorry! it just.. it st-started as a crush but, i’m sorry y/n i swear! what can i-i do to make it up to you?” His voice is so shaky & he has tears dripping down his face at this point, poor boy is so scared.

“Well… why not you just start off with telling me everything you’ve done about me without my knowledge hm?” you smile a bit at him as you wipe your thumb across his cheeks to clean his cheeks from his tears

“you-you’re not, mad at me? or disgusted?” Felix’ expression changes slightly, his lips stop trembling & he isn’t shaking as much, instead his eyebrows stop frowning & his eyes look a bit less glossy.

“i AM disgusted, i mean, how can such an attractive man, my own best friend have the balls to go through my sex toys box hm? i’m guessing you also DO know where all my panties have gone hm? i should have maybe came looking, would have found them in your room wouldn’t i? Tell me felix, where do you keep them?” You continue smiling at him, now caressing his hands in your own, refusing to break eye contact.

“i- i, i keep them under my pillows, on- on both sides, so i can always, always smell you, i’ll gi-give them all back!!” Felix clenches your hands in his own & you decide to pull away from his.

“who said i wanted them back hm? i find it flattering you steal them from me if i’m being honest. Tell me felix, what do you do with them? be honest. completely honest.”

You lean in & whisper slightly to him, moving your hands to the lower part of his thighs & caressing them.

“I-i like to sm-smell them, i like to lick them too, so i ca-can know what you taste like. I a-also like to jerk off while holding it in the same hand, so your sce-scent is over my dick. i’m so sorry y/n i mean it! I also, ugh!” Felix groans with embarrassment before continuing; “I like to put them in my mouth too as a gag to muffle my moans as i think about you y/n! y/n.. why are you asking me th-this??” He hiccups.

“Because i have a right to know don’t i? i mean.. it’s ME you’re thinking about, stealing off of just for your own fantasies.. tell me Felix, how did i taste hm?”

You look into his eyes for any discomfort before gliding your hands up his thighs, resting on either side of his crotch, noticing the tent that’s forming beneath his basketball shorts. You can tell he’s not wearing boxers due to how visible the print is, there’s nothing hiding it, luckily for you.

“y/n, i- you taste good, addicting even. i couldn’t get enough, it’s why i kept stealing your panties, it wont happen anymore.”

His breathing shakes slightly as he feels your hands move up but he tries to stay as collected as possible.

“you’re so cute when you’re flustered felix, you could have just asked me straight up instead of being a creepy perv” you say quietly in his ear, seduction in your voice. You bite his earlobe then plant a kiss to his jawline then look at him to see his reaction. His freckled cheeks are as red as cherries & his eyes are already blown out. You smirk before looking at his lips & without thinking, you lean in & kiss him.

The kiss is unsurprisingly a bit messy, Felix’ shock playing a part in that. you let your tongue into his mouth & he whines slightly. You begin sucking on his tongue as you undo the tie keeping your towel in place & climbing onto his lap, now completely nude on top of him. Felix’ hands move to your waist & he pulls away once he feels you’re naked frame.

“y/n what are you doing? doesn’t this feel wrong?” He says in a strained voice, looking straight into your beautiful eyes, but his hands don’t budge. he is deeply praying that you don’t agree with his words.

“Oh, so me kissing you naked is wrong but you creeping on me for god knows how long is fine? If you don’t want this then fine” You say condescendingly, moving on him as if you were going to get off just for him to pull you straight back on top of him, on top of the cold small wet patch above his covered cock, unsure if it’s his precum or your slick. You giggle to him slightly at his actions but get off him anyway.

“Why not get some of the flavoured lube you were fawning over & come join me on the bed hm?” You say, voice raising in pitch at the end by accident, trying to seem cool & collected as if your heart isn’t racing in your chest.

Felix scrambles to pick up the multiple bottles of lube that’s still on the floor

“Which one? there’s uh, there’s peach, cherry & lemon flavour?” He holds them all up to you which makes you giggle.

“You can choose, it’s you who’s gonna be eating my pussy felix, or would you rather just use your tongue hm?” You raise your eyebrows at him & smile.

“God, you’re better than any wet dream i’ve ever had of you.” He says in a grainy voice before basically sprinting over to the bed to stand in front of you. He puts his knee between your slightly parted legs as he leans in & kisses you again, your back hitting the mattress as you find his toned abs under his shirt, before helping him get rid of it completely. He starts to kiss down your neck, nipping at it every once in a while, before moving to your collarbone & then to your breasts. He wastes no time in cupping your left breast with his hand while his lips suction around your right nipple. He swirls your hard bud with his tongue & nibbles on it, releasing sweet whines & moans not only from your chest but also his. He repeats the action with the left breast, leaving all of his spit on the breast he was just sucking on. You weave your fingers through his hair & tug slightly which makes felix groan deeply.

“Fuck felix, if i knew you were this good with your tongue i woulda let you suck on me like this a long time ago.” you scrunch your eyes together due to the pleasure as you feel felix smile at your words. A few seconds later you feel his other hand working his way down towards where you wanted him the most. You feel his slightly cold fingers cup your pussy & you begin squirming to get more friction & you feel a harsh & loud smack to your pussy in retaliation which makes you yelp into his lips.

“You really are desperate aren’t you? just because i was scared to admit my fantasies for you doesn’t mean i’m scared to treat you the way you deserve now that you’re under me, got it?”

You are a bit taken aback by his words since you thought you were going to probably end up domming him but you’re not upset by the change of plans. You nod your head, eyes blown out.

“Do you know about the traffic light system, baby? hm? green means ‘keep going’ & you are enjoying it so i’m safe to continue, orange means slow down or stop that specific thing & red means hard stop, can you remember that hm? we should create a safeword baby.”

You swear you can feel your heart about to jump out of your ribcage at the pet name & you nod instantly.

“icecream. icecream can be the safe word.”

Felix smiles at you as he keeps his hand cupped over your pussy, his cold rings now turning warm from the heat of your skin.

“Okay baby, tell me what you’re into, if you’re good, i’ll make your world spin, i promise.”

Felix kisses your collarbones & bites them lightly, enjoying the way you twitch slightly at the feeling.

“I li-like praise but i dont mind degradation either, i, just surprise me felix i can handle it i promise.”

You reach down & put your hand above his own & try push his hand onto your pussy more to try get some sort of new sensation but he bites your collarbone a bit harder which makes you release your grip.

“Okay if you say so bunny but i want you to keep that same mindset when you’re crying begging for me to give you a break.”

You notice the look in his eyes but don’t have much time to say anything before he moves from where he is to slide in-between your legs.

“I can eat until im full right?” Felix asks in a deep voice, looking right into your eyes. you nod enthusiastically. “okay good, keep your legs open no matter what.” You grab your legs at the behind of your knees & pull them up towards your chest to give him full access.

He begins by kissing the under part of your thighs & giving them a few hickeys on each side before finally turning his attention to the place you want him the most. He looks up at you & sees you have your eyes closed already & he smirks to himself before licking a slow long stripe from your hole to the top of your clit & you let out a breathy whine.

“You taste fucking amazing, better than your used panties by a fucking mile.” Felix says, voice already somehow sounding fucked out. You smirk at his words & blush slightly but it doesn’t last for long as he dives fully into your pussy, slurping, sucking, nibbling, toying with your labia as his nose is bashing against your clit, fucking your hole with his tongue at insane speed. You can already feel your brain going numb & you can’t even think straight, the only noise you can make is shaky breathed moans & whines as he adds two fingers into your dripping hole. Felix finds your gummy spot inside your walls & starts instantly abusing it as he leans back & spits onto your clit just to lick it back up again.

“Fe-felix i’m cuh-cumming!”

your legs start shaking as you cum all over his fingers, your wetness dripping down your ass onto the bed & your legs begin to shut around his head but he’s quick to push them back open.

“i told you to keep them open y/n, keep. them.open.”

His words don’t even register in your brain as he hits your swollen pussy again before getting some of the peach flavoured lube & pouring the cold substance straight onto your cunt. he gives it a second to drip down & in the meantime gets the nipple clamps he seen in the box earlier & decides to put them on you. you squeal as he clamps them down & try reach out for his arm but he swats you away before lying back in his previous spot.

“Hold your legs again for my baby please, or will I need to hold them since you’re too dumb to even listen to me hm?”

You sniffle & reach down with your weak arms to hold your legs again, not as wide as before. Before you could even take another breath in felix is back to licking your pussy as if it was his last meal.

“f-felix too m-m-MUCH!”

you try to squirm away from his face & lips but he’s quick in pushing you back down onto the bed to continue eating.

“You said i can eat until i’m full, i’m not full yet. give me one more & then i’ll fuck you, how does that sound hm?”

You can’t physically say any understandable words but you try relax a bit more as he continues devouring you. You pull on the nipple clamps a bit to get a bit of the painful pleasure you crave. Felix adds another finger into you & you realise he’s moaning into your pussy, sending vibrations straight to your core, you feel your orgasm approaching again but it feels… different. You try to warn him but you are completely in your own world, nothing but a drooling, babbling & pliant mess. Your legs begin shaking more violently & you let out a shriek as you squirt all over felix’ fingers, face, tongue & all over your own bed. Felix kisses your thigh before finally leaving your pulsating ball of nerves some space to breathe & catch a break.

“So dirty y/n… if i knew you would get off this badly on this… me, or even the situation? you really are just as sick as i am arent you, dumb slut?”

Felix leans over & gives your cheek a slight slap then forces you to look over at him, your eyes still slightly crossed over & tears in your eyes along with down your cheeks.

“Do you want to finish here baby? you look worn out.”

He kisses the same cheek he just slapped & nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, waiting for you to say something. He takes off the nipple clamps & gently massages your nipples to help with the ringing slight pain in them.

“Ju-just fuck me felix, please, i-i want it so, so ba-bad, wanted it for so long”

You pull his hair slightly so he is now looking at you. He smiles & nods.

“Do you remember the safeword baby?so long hm? tell me how long”He asks, raising himself so he’s in-between your legs again

“icecream. I told you, i can handle it felix, please, baby just please give it to me! wanted it since we moved in togeth-together felix, since high school when we met!” You blush after calling him baby but it doesn’t stop you from trying to inch yourself closer to him to get more friction.

“You being demanding would be a lot more serious to me if you didn’t have drool all over your face right now & your cheeks stained in tears.” You both let out a small laugh as you sit up so your face to face with his abs as you pull down his shorts & his dick springs free, bright red, veins running from the base to the tip, leaking with precum that’s also drenched his shorts inside & also a really decent size. His dick is about 6 inches with a slight curve upwards & quite thick. You go to wrap your hand around it to taste him but felix grabs his dick first & hits & slides it across your face, smirking at the sight. You stick your tongue out but he purposely skips over it before helping you move upwards to the top of the bed next to the pillows.

“as much as i would love for you to suck my dick i know i’ll cum on the spot & id rather get to feel you first babe. What position do you wanna do this in hm? i’ll let you choose as a thank you for letting me suck you dry.”

You smile at him & think for a second before using the rest of your strength to turn yourself over & you put a pillow just below your stomach so your ass is raised enough for him without needing to use any sort of strength. Felix whines lowly at the sight of your perfect ass & grabs it with both hands & jiggles it.

“Your ass is so perfect i just wanna live in it”

You both let out a small laugh & felix leans down & bites it playfully before positioning himself at your aching hole.

“You ready kitten? remember just tell me if it’s too much, i’ll go easy.”

You nod & a second later you feel the delicious stretch his dick is making you feel, the curve of it hitting all the right spots. You both sigh out a breathy sigh as he finally fills you up to the hilt. You both take note how perfect he feels inside, stretching you more than your favourite dildos ever could. He begins moving slowly while holding onto your hips, watching the way your ass jiggles against his pelvis every time he thrusts in & out. He lets go of your hips temporarily to reach over for the nipple clamps he took off your own swollen buds & decides to put them on himself. He lets out a small yelp but tries to disguise it as a moan but you turn around & see the gorgeous sight.

“You’re a mini pain slut too? who would have th-thought?” You try to sound collected but in reality you are trying your hardest to not scream from the pleasure.

“i never said i wasn’t, you just never asked. fuck, baby you feel so good, i’m not gonna last.”

He pulls out quickly & flips you over so you’re on your back before sliding right back into you. You let out pretty whines as he hits your G-spot with the new angle & with the help of his curved dick. Felix’ sweat is collecting at his forehead & nose & it makes the sight above you even more attractive. You reach up & pull the chain in-between his nipple clamps so he is right in front of your face. He groans deeply & you feel his dick twitch inside you as you pull them, he kisses you instantly.

The sound of skin clapping fills the room as he reaches down to start rubbing your clit again as he sucks on your tongue. You run your hands through his hair & down his back, leaving nail marks as you do so. Without warning you feel yourself cumming again for the third time, all over his dick, leaving a white ring along the base. Felix let’s go of your lips as you are midway through your orgasm & let’s his hand travel to your neck lightly & turns your head so he can give you a hickey on your neck.

“Fuck y/n you’re so beautiful, i need- ima cum, where can i cu-“

“anywhere, y-just do it anywher-where, FUCK felix i cant take it, too m-much, too b-big”

you can take it gorgeous i promise, just a little,lit-fuck! while longer!”Felix continues whining & his eyebrows are frowned as he shuts his eyes & faces the ceiling, trying to hold off as much as he can, until he can’t anymore. He grabs his dick quickly & pulls it out before pumping himself a few times before his cum spurts, squirts out of him, right onto your tits & stomach. You both look into eachothers eyes as you feel his cum hit your body & without breaking eye contact, you wipe some of his cum up on your finger before sucking it off j humming.

“Damn, you really kept me from tasting this, meanie”

“don’t worry, next time i’ll cum down your throat until it’s spilling out, how about that?”

You both smile & sigh at eachother as felix flops down next to you & lets you cuddle into his chest as he caresses your hair.

“We obviously have a lot to talk about, i am genuinely sorry y/n” Felix sighs as he shuts his eyes.

“stop apologising, i wouldn’t have just let you turn me into a pile of mush if i didn’t want you to, but what i do want is for you to give me my panties back, you keep taking my favourite ones”

You both giggle & felix kisses your forehead before getting up & walking over to your damp towel & wiping up his cum off your stomach & tits.

“So much for showering, wanna join me?”

He says, giving you the gorgeous beaming smile you love so much.

“Finee i’ll join you, but you’re gonna have to carry me because incase you don’t remember my legs don’t exactly work anymore.”

Felix just rolls his eyes sassily before walking over & picking you up bridal style as he starts walking you both to the bathroom, you nuzzling into his neck & appreciating the smell of his damp skin as you both get into the bathroom & felix shuts the door behind you both.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Almost

Pairing: past Dean x Reader, past Reader x Mitchell (OC) Word count: 1,872

Read on AO3

Final part of It’s Not Mine

“Shhh!” You giggled, putting your hand over Dean’s mouth. He had come over with Chinese food, whiskey, wine, rum, and juice. You’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had. The pair of you were giggly, the movie you’d put on forgotten. “We don’t want to wake up my dad or Danny!” You told him. 

Dean was clearly smiling behind your hand, his amusement clear in his eyes. He said something , but it was muffled. 

“What?” You asked, moving your hand. 

He chuckled. “I said it’s like we’re kids again.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t recall you making us mixed drinks as kids.” You teased. “Back then it was Capri Suns.” 

He relaxed more onto the back of the couch, thinking back to those sleepovers. “Remember that tent you had? It was pink, I think? Barbie?” He looked towards you. “And it came with two Barbie sleeping bags?” 

You snorted. “I completely forgot about that!” You admitted. “You didn’t want to sleep in a ‘girls sleeping bag’.” 

“And then you started to cry and I caved. You were, what, 6?” 

“I think so.” You had a small smile on your face, thinking back to life before it got complicated.

“I always hated seeing you cry.” He said softly with a sigh. He watched you chew on your lip, knowing exactly what was on your mind. “I hated myself that day. Still do, honestly.” He downed the last of his whiskey, and debated getting more.

You turned to look at him. “You shouldn’t hate yourself.” You told him softly. 

He sighed. “But, I do.” He shrugged a shoulder. There was nothing he could do to change that. That self-hatred dug itself in deep, and attached itself to his soul.

Shifting so you were facing him more, you lean your elbow on the back of the couch, your head against your hand. “The past is the past. We can’t change it. All we can do is do better every day.” Finishing your drink, you went to get up to get a refill, but Dean stopped you. 

One moment, you were going to stand, the next you were against his chest. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you could feel his heart beating against your back. His arm moved around your waist, holding you like you would disappear. You felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. The only noise that could be heard was the movie that neither other you had been paying attention to. 

You licked your lips, your mind going a mile a minute. What did you say in a moment like this? What did you do ? You hadn’t been this close to him since prom night, and all your alarm bells were going off. The last thing you needed was a repeat of…everything. “I can hear you thinking.” Dean said, moving his head to look up at you. 

Looking over your shoulder, you nodded. “Hard not to.” You said softly. 

His eyes went to your lips for a moment, the hand that wasn’t on your stomach moving to cup your jaw. You let yourself shift to lean down. Just as your lips were about to touch his, a group of excited New Year’s party goers cheered. That jerked out of whatever buzzed brain fog you had going on. Pulling away, you quickly rushed to the kitchen. You couldn’t help but tear up as you poured yourself a drink, downed it, and poured another. 

Nearly kissing Dean was not how you had expected your night to go. You thought you’d go, have a couple drinks, come home and go to bed. Hearing footsteps, you knew it was Dean. “Do you want me to head home?” He asked, honestly hoping you said ‘no’. He felt something when he was holding you again, and wanted that feeling back. 

“I don’t know.” You sniffed. 

“Want to talk about it?” Granted, he was probably the last person she would want to talk to him about anything. “Even if you just want to vent. I don’t have to talk. I can just listen.” He rambled, making you chuckle lightly. 

Letting out a breath, you turned to lean against the counter. “What’re we doing, Dean?” You asked. 

“Standing in your kitchen talking?” He blinked.

“Not what I meant.” You shook your head. “Us. Tonight.” You motioned between the pair of you. “We ne-” You were cut off by someone knocking on the door. “What the hell?” 

Dean turned and made his way to the door. It was too late for people to just be knocking on the door. Opening it, his face went to neutral, to angry. “What the fuck do you want? The restraining order not a big sign she wants nothing to do with your sorry ass?” He spat at Mitchell. 

You had set your drink down and followed Dean. Your hand was on his back, brows furrowed. “You need to leave. I’m calling the cops.” You went to grab your purse to grab your phone out of it, but saw him pull out a gun and aim it at Dean. Without thinking, you shoved Dean to the side as Mitchell pulled the trigger. It was a no brainer to you.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled, rushing to you. 

Everything happened so fast. Your father was rushing down stairs at the noise as Dean tackled Mitchell, worried for everyone’s safety. Danny was crying at the top of the stairs, frozen in place as he watched. “Go in your room, Danny.” Your dad told him, not wanting him to see all this. 

You were holding your arm, feeling like it was on fire. Thankfully it went through your arm, and not into your chest. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. One of your neighbors must have called the cops because you could hear sirens getting louder. You leaned against your father, watching Dean struggle with Mitchell when the gun went off again. “Dean!” You sobbed, worried you’d lose him before things were better between the two of you. Even if he was just there as your best friend.

“Sonovabitch!” He groaned, rolling off of Mitchell, grabbing his thigh.

After the cops and ambulances arrived, things moved quickly. Both you and Dean were taken to the hospital, and Mitchell was arrested. You had a feeling that he’d be going away for a long time. Or, you hoped that he did. Not only for violating the restraining order, but for shooting you AND Dean. That had to count for something. Your father stayed behind with Danny, and the cops took your statements before you were driven away. 

You were lucky, as the bullet missed your bone. It went through your bicep muscle. It would take time to heal, but you had a feeling Dean’s was worse. As soon as you were discharged, you went to find Dean. It took nearly 10 minutes, but finally a nurse helped you. “Oh, Dean.” You breathed when you saw him. 

“Hey, beautiful.” He had a silly grin on his face, making you chuckle. “How’s your arm?” 

You glanced to the sling, and then back to him. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. The pain killers helped, but it sounds like the ones you got are even better.” You teased as you sat on the side of his bed. “How’s your leg?” 

“That shit hurt!” He shook his head. “Getting shot is no damn joke.” 

“It would be a lot worse right now if I didn’t push you out of the way.” The tears started again. “He would have gotten your chest. Who knows if I’d ever get to yell at you again.” You joked, trying to hide how scared you’d been. 

His face softened as he put his hand on your leg. “If it meant keeping you safe, I’d do it.”  

“Let’s hope he goes away for a long time and that we never have to worry about that.” You covered his hand with yours. “Danny and I need his daddy around for a long time.” Giving his hand a small squeeze, you sniffed. “He’s too pretty to leave us.” You smiled at him. 

“Damn straight.” He laughed. “How about you call my dad and have him pick you up? Get some rest. Assure Danny we’re okay. And that dad might not be running around for while.” While he enjoyed having you there, Danny was more important. 

Leaning forward, you kissed him softly. “I’ll bring Danny to see you in a day or two.” You promised.

Mitchell got a year for violating the restraining order, and 25 years for the actual shooting. You crossed your fingers that he didn’t get out early for good behavior. Your arm healed fairly quickly, but Dean’s leg took time. In that time, the pair of you got closer. He was a fixture in your home every day, something that Danny loved.

You didn’t know when it happened, but you’d let all your walls fall down for Dean. One day you looked at him and didn’t feel any anger, sadness, or fear. Then he looked at you and winked. You melted inside, in the best way. 

Danny was 8 when Dean got on one knee, asking you to marry him. You’d been together about 7 months, but it felt like forever. He’d barely gotten part of his words out when you blurted out ‘yes’. There was no way that wouldn’t be your answer. 

That led you to today. Danny was 10, you’d been a Winchester for just over a year, and you’d just welcomed your little girl. You looked over to where Dean was cuddling her and smiled. “It’s crazy. I’d been in love with you for ages before prom, but I never in a million years would have thought I’d get lucky enough to marry you. AND have two of your kids.” You smiled. 

Dean was looking at the small bundle with nothing but love. “I never saw myself the marrying type, or the dad type.” He chuckled, looking at you. “Guess I could only see it with you.” Thankfully the day you’d told him you were pregnant again was a much different reaction than the first time. He’d cried. 

“Danny is already all about his daddy, and she will be, too.” You chuckled. “We should probably name her, though.” You pointed out. “Visiting hours are soon, and everyone will be coming to meet her. They’ll want to know her name.” The issue wasn’t that there were no names the pair of you loved. The issue was there were too many! 

Nodding, he got up to hand her to you when she started to fuss. “Alright, how about you say the first 5 that come to mind, I’ll write them in my notes app. I’ll do the same. You can veto two of mine, I can veto two of yours.” He pulled out his phone. “That’ll leave 6. We can let everyone vote. Top vote is her first name, second is her middle.” At least that would be less stressful overall. 

Grinning, you looked at your daughter latched. “Your daddy is so smart.” You gushed. “Alright, so…” You started to list your names, looking forward to the rest of your life with Dean.

Tag list- @s0urw00lf @bruhidkjustwannaread

[mxssingmemories]

boundaries // hotch & rossi x platonic!reader

summary: after hotch confronts you in his office, you react intensely. rossi is worried. comfort ensues, hotch and rossi are honorary father figures.

wc: 3k~

warnings: reader’s boyfriend is abusive and a piece of shit, yelling, happy ending i swear

“Okay, what’s going on?” Hotch asks, shutting the door to his office behind you. His tone is slightly concerned and you know he’s not letting this go by the look on his face; his eyebrows are folded down and he’s frowning. You sigh and flop down on the chair in the corner of his office, looking down at the floor like it killed your best friend.

“Listen, whatever’s going on, we can fix it. Even if you don’t want my help, it’s got to be fixed, kid. Just tell me what’s going on. Even Reid came to me about this. You know I can’t just let it go,” he said, his expression tight as he stared at you. The tension in the room was high as your eyes widened. Whatever Hotch wanted to accomplish with this “chat”, it was clear to the both of you it wasn’t going to get far. You stood up and slowly started walking towards him with squinted eyes.

“What is your problem, Hotch? I am perfectly fine! Even if I wasn’t, you have no right to say shit like that! That’s my damn business, not yours!” you yelled, jamming a finger at his chest. On a normal day, you wouldn’t even think about saying any of this to your boss. Your brain didn’t process the consequences at all, but Hotch’s did.

“Y/L/N! You do not speak to me like that! I am your boss-” he started, but was cut off by the door slamming behind you as you walked out. He deflated instantly, sitting back in his chair as all the tension drained out of his body.

The stairs creaked as you stomped down them. The whole team looked up at the noise with slightly concerned facial expressions.

“You alright, kid?” Rossi asked, attempting to pace his gait with yours. You were practically running through the office. Rossi prided himself on being quite agile, but even he was no match for you.

“Fuck off,” you grumbled. Rossi’s eyes widened as he froze in his place. When his wits came back to him, he took a few steps back towards the group. “Jesus, ragazza,” he whispered as he watched you walk away.

“The hell’s her problem?” Morgan asked Rossi, holding his hands up placatingly when he received nothing but a death glare.

“Guess it’s her time of the month,” Derek muttered to himself, eyes widening when he realized how loud he actually said it. 

“Derek Morgan. I will beat your ass,” Rossi deadpanned, already starting to walk out of the doors to follow you. You’d left a bit of a trail when you stormed out. Your phone laid by the top step of the stairs and so did your badge. The older agent picked up your phone & badge and tucked it in his pocket, knowing you'd end up wanting that later.

You walked speedily, fueled by the anger still coursing through you at the situation. You had a certain level of respect for Hotch-he was your boss, after all-but in your eyes, he had stepped way over the boundary. Deep down, you knew he had good intentions, but that didn’t excuse his overstepping.

You sat down on the pavement with a sigh, your gaze falling to the ground as your brain ran 1,000 miles a minute. Rossi's presence was made evident when he sat down beside you, holding your phone in one hand and badge in the other. You kept your eyes steadily on the ground, pointedly ignoring him. Of course Rossi was not one to give up, reaching his hand out further as he silently asked for acknowledgement of his presence.

"Hey, ragazzino, I know you're pissed, but I'm here for you. I just want to help." he said reassuringly, a kind smile on his face as you finally made eye contact. Quickly, you grabbed your belongings from his hand.

"Thank you," you said softly.

Rossi smiled at you as you slowly leaned against him, bringing an arm around you as he took a deep breath.

"Listen, piccola, I promise Hotch didn't mean anything bad. We both know I have no idea what happened, but he wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose." the older agent reassured you, watching your facial expressions attentively as you tried to come up with an appropriate response.

"He breached boundaries, Rossi. Even if he didn't mean to hurt me, he went too damn far. I can't just move on from that!" You half-cried, half-yelled as tears gathered in your eyes. The minute your body started to shake, Rossi took his cue and gathered you in his arms. He held you tightly as you let everything out, loud sobs escaping your mouth as you buried your head in his chest. He rubbed your back lightly, the comforting touch grounding you slightly in the midst of what seemed like hell.

"It's okay, tesoro, let it out. I'm here," he cooed, rocking you back and forth like a baby. Rossi couldn't lie when he said the emotional reaction you had surprised him. After almost three years of being on the team, they hadn't seen you cry once. Even after you'd gotten kidnapped and shot by the Reaper himself, you held steadfast. His heart hurt as he watched you fall apart in his arms, only tightening his grip on you as your cries started to die down. When you were ready, you pulled back. Your head was still resting on Rossi, but you could see him now. The tears in his eyes came as a shock to you, and you looked up at him questioningly but he just shook his head. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and handed you a tissue.You accepted gratefully. Taking it with a sniffle, you wiped your eyes as you desperately tried to regain your composure.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the older agent asked softly as he looked into your eyes. You took a deep breath as you nodded, shifting your position to be able to sit beside him.

"You remember Alexander?" you asked quietly, so quietly in fact Rossi had to physically lean closer in order to hear you.

"As in your boyfriend Alexander? Yeah, I do." he spoke, watching you carefully as you planned your words out.

"He, uh. He didn't like me going out with you guys for dinner." you nervously said, your face dropping as you saw the confusion evident in David's eyes.

"He yelled. Really loud, Rossi. He didn't even let me explain, he just yelled and he kicked me out. I don't even know why I let him, that's my damn apartment. I slept on the street for two nights straight." Rossi's eyes widened as he realized the full extent of the situation, the anger for your "boyfriend" calming down as his paternal instincts kicked in.

“Angel, no one should ever treat you like that. Do you have a place to stay tonight?" he asked softly, and you nodded.

"I got the balls to kick him out two days ago. I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. He just made me feel so small, Dave. I didn't know I could even feel like that. I thought he loved me!" you choked, your voice breaking once again as you brought the situation out in the open. For the second time in thirty minutes, David pulled you into his arms. One hand cupped your face, forcing you to make direct eye contact with him.

"Listen to me, kiddo. You did not deserve that. it is not your fault, do you hear me? You did nothing wrong." he reassured, brushing the tears that fell at his words. You tucked your head back into his chest as more tears fell, but he stayed by your side for all of it. The quietness of the alleyway was disturbed once again by your cries. A lone tear fell down Dave's own cheek as his heart contracted at what you were going through.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell us?" he asked quietly, both of your teary eyes looking at each other as you sighed.

"I didn't want to be a burden. I thought it would get better, you know? But Hotch saying what he did..I don't know. I can't just keep pretending." you confessed. the older agent placed his hand back on your shoulder.

"You're never a burden, angel. You're part of the family. You're like one of my kids, okay? I never want you to feel like you can't talk to me. About Aaron, though, I think we both know you need to talk to him." He said, squeezing your shoulder as your eyes traveled back to the building. Quietly, you nodded your head. As David stood up, he offered you a hand which you gladly took.

"You really see me as your kid?" you asked, head down while you walked. There was a part of you that thought he was kidding, but Rossi immediately dismissed all of your doubts.

"Absolutely, piccola. Don't ever think I don't, okay? You're more important to me than you think." A small smile rose on your face at his words. The walk to the doors was almost over, and by then you had done your best to fix your appearance. With a deep breath, you walked in as Dave held the doors open for you. The stairs to Hotch's office were a death sentence in your mind. The presence of his hand on your back gave you the confidence you needed to talk up the stairs. The team eyed the both of you, but you sent a small smile down to them and their faces changed from apprehension to a mix of relief and concern.

The knock on Hotch's office door seemed to reverberate through the entire bullpen. You stood at his door with a tight expression, and he opened it with an even tighter one.

"Y/N. I think it's best if you come in." You nodded as your eyes fell to the floor. Hotch motioned for you to take a seat as he shut his door. You did as asked, only making eye contact with your boss when he sat in a chair beside you. The silence in the office was deafening, as you both waited for someone to speak. It became clear about 2 minutes in that you weren't going to say anything, so Hotch took the hint. "Listen, kiddo. I want you to know I'm not mad. I understand that whatever you're going through has caused this situation, and I want to be here for you, but I can only do that if you let me in." he said evenly, and you felt your shoulders relax at his reassurance.

"I'm so sorry, sir. What I said and did was completely out of line. I promise you there's a reason for it." Hotch nodded to show he was listening, his body language open as he waited for you to explain.

"You remember when we went out to dinner last week?" you questioned, and continued when Hotch nodded again. "Apparently, I neglected to tell Alexander that I was going out with you guys. He was waiting for me. He..he wasn't happy, Hotch. He yelled a lot. I didn't know he was capable of that. He ended up kicking me out of the house. I slept on the street for two nights." you explained, voice breaking at the last part as your boss' face immediately contorted into concern.

"Oh my god. Are you okay? Do you have somewhere to sleep?" he asked almost frantically. The nod you gave him seemed to satisfy the statistical part of his brain as he studied your face. Tears pooled in your eyes at the situation you'd somehow gotten yourself stuck in. Crying in front of your boss (and admittedly father figure) was not on your to-do list today.

"I'm so sorry. I should've noticed. Fuck," he whispered. He abruptly got up out of his chair and wrapped you in a full-body hug. It caught you off-guard for a second, but you returned it the second you realized what was happening. The dam broke for the third time in a day, tears spilling out onto your face as you held onto him like a lifeline.

"I've got you. I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered in your ear as he held you. You just cried even harder, the sounds not missed by the team in the bullpen. They were watching through the blinds with sad looks in their eyes. You're their baby, and it pained every single agent to see you in tears.

You pulled back from Hotch's arms as he studied your face, his focus falling on the dark circles under your eyes.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked, and you sniffled as you tried to respond.

"You can't expect someone to get more than an hour of sleep on the street, Hotch," you tried to joke, but it failed miserably as Hotch looked at you like an injured animal.

"Okay, that's okay. Can you sit down on my couch for a second?" he asked you, and when you nodded, he gave you a timid smile. Unfortunately, your body decided it didn't want to cooperate. You instantly fell back down when you tried to get up. Hotch's instincts kicked in as he caught you and carried you over to the couch bridal style.

"Jesus, next time warn me," Hotch murmured as he sat you down. "I'll be right back, kiddo," he assured you. He walked out of his office to see the whole team watching him with looks on their faces that belonged at a funeral.

"What did you do?" Garcia asked, the death glare on her face actually scaring Hotch. He had to remind himself that he was, in fact, the unit chief.

"She's going to be fine, Garcia. She just needs us right now, okay? Now can you get me my stash?" he asked her, and she sighed but nodded. As her footsteps retreated, Morgan and JJ came to his side.

"Listen, Hotch, I don't know what you did but you need to fix it." JJ whisper-yelled, staring Hotch down.

"JJ, you are one of my best team members. You should know by now I do not take well to being told what to do. I have this under control. Y/N does not need you all against me, she needs us as a family right now. I am asking you to understand and respect that." Hotch ordered, walking away from the two as Garcia returned with a basket that had a blanket, some candy, and a pillow in it.

JJ and Morgan watched as he retreated back up the stairs, looking at each other in confusion before going back to their watching positions.

By the time your boss made it back up, you had cleaned up a little bit. Your runny mascara had been taken care of and you were sitting up properly. You smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Can you lay down for me, kiddo? I know you need the rest." he murmured, and you nodded as he draped the blanket over you. His hands held your head as he placed the pillow behind it, and they lingered as he stared at you.

"You're not a burden, honey. I can practically hear negative thoughts buzzing in your mind right now, but I can assure you none of them are true. You know I see you as my daughter too, right? It's not just Rossi. We love you, kid." he smiled at you, and both of your eyes were wet with tears as you smiled back at him.

"Thanks, bossman." you said, as Hotch sat down on the floor.

"You know you don't have to sit on the floor, right?" you asked, giggling when he rolled his eyes at you.

"Can I sit on the couch with you, then?" he asked, joking manner gone as he looked you in the eyes. At your nod, he pulled himself up and sat on your end of the couch. You adjusted yourself to where you were facing him, your head on his chest. His hand absentmindedly carded through your hair as his paternal instincts kicked in. It didn't take long for you to drift off, his steady heartbeat lulling you to the sleep you so desperately needed. You thanked whoever had the power over your life for giving you a team who you knew always had your back. Hotch continued to card his hand through your hair, making sure you were asleep before he let himself fully process what you went through. 

His thought process was interrupted by a text message from Garcia, and he smiled as soon as he saw it. She'd sent a photo of the two of you in your current position, the caption reading 'team dad confirmed?'. He rolled his eyes at her antics and let himself exhale for the first time since the confrontation this morning, his fatherly smile coming back onto his face as he looked down at you. Nobody could blame Penelope when she snapped a photo of that, too; she had a feeling this would be something they would want to see in the future.

[eternallyhyucks]

first love | choi yeonjun, wc: 2.5k

— unrequited love, angst

— this is my first long fic pls bare w me😭

𖤐 ྀ

your crush on yeonjun wasn’t like the rest of the crushes you’ve had in your life. this time you were actually friends and you spent a lot of time together. but after a while, you felt like maybe your crush was more than just that.

the first time you met yeonjun was on his first day at your job. you had only started about 2 weeks before and he walked up to the register saying it was his first day. even before he walked up you had noticed how cute he was when he stood in the line, so when he said he was working there, you felt a little flustered.

so his first day began, and you had to start training him. unfortunately for him, you were also still a trainee yourself. about an hour into the shift, while you were showing him how to make a drink, your other coworker came up behind the two of you to see how you were doing and noticed the color of the drink was a little off. he took the cup in his hand, smelled the tea, and that’s when you realized your mistake: you used to wrong tea. you and yeonjun giggled about it but you still couldn’t help but feel a little embarassed.

before your shift ended, you built up the courage to ask yeonjun for his instagram. he agreed and you started looking for a sticky note for him to write on. after looking for a minute, you realized the store probably ran out so you just grabbed a sharpie and told him to write it on your hand. the moment he took your hand to write his username, you felt your breath hitch.

as soon as you got home, you went to follow him and as you were scrolling through his highlights, you noticed he had a girlfriend. you laughed a little because it made sense.

so you moved on. at least it wasn’t an actual crush. you just thought he was cute.

—

so the two of your continued working together and became pretty close, along with the rest of your coworkers.

and any thought of having a crush on yeonjun was gone.

.. until a couple months later.

after a long closing shift together, you felt kind of giddy on the drive home. weird.

two days later you had another shift together, and afterwards everyone was going to get dinner together.

you felt the same weird, slightly giddy feeling again during the shift.

during the dinner, you two didn’t sit at the same table, so you weren’t thinking about him, but when you were near him you felt something in your stomach.

a couple days went by and you had a shift with him again. this time you went home and realized you might like him. you had to remind yourself that you can’t, he has a girlfriend. and yet, your brain wouldn’t listen to you.

a week went by and he randomly texted you saying he had to tell you something.

what’s up?

i feel like you should know since we’re pretty close but my girlfriend and i broke up

oh.

omg i’m sorry

it’s okay, ig it was inevitable

of all the times they could’ve broken up, it had to be when you realized you had a crush on him. of course.

unfortunately for you, the two of you started texting each other way more than usual, which made your crush grow even more.

—

after a couple weeks of silently crushing, you decided to tell your best friend about it. for some reason, she said she saw it from a mile away. as in, ever since your first interaction with him.

you also chose to tell your closest coworker about “someone you have a crush on” without revealing anything about who it is and she kept feeding into your delusions saying he definitely liked you back. but there was no way he did. he had just gotten out of a pretty long relationship. even if he did, you didn’t want to be a rebound.

a month went by and your crush on yeonjun had only gotten worse. the two of you texted everyday. he told you random details about his day and he texted you good morning and goodnight and he even told you to have sweet dreams?? what kind of friend does that? everytime he was around you, you felt a weird tension.

one day, you and a small group of your coworkers planned to hang out together, yeonjun included. he came a little later than everyone else because he was stuck in traffic, but the moment he walked in, you felt awkward. not because of him but because you wanted to make sure he didn’t feel the same tension you did.

the whole time you were hanging out, it felt like he was always lingering around you. either you’re walking next to each other or hes simply just standing by you. maybe it was just you, but whenever you’d walk next to each other, your hands kept brushing against each other.

you kept avoiding him, but somehow he appeared anyway. after a while, everyone wanted to get drinks, so you walked to your cars. you needed to fill up your gas, so you said you’d meet everyone there. in your head it felt smart since that way you could sit somewhere away from him.

after filling the gas in your car, you drove up to the drink shop and saw that there was one seat open next to your friend. smiling, you sat there and felt a sense of relief since there was a person between you and yeonjun.

unfortunately things will never go your way because 10 minutes later, one of your friend’s boyfriend came in and since yeonjun was sitting next to her, he got up to give the seat up for her boyfriend and instead pulled up a chair next to you.

you avoided eye contact and focused on talking to everyone else because you couldn’t stand looking at him in case your face heated up.

he was always so close to you. always touching shoulders, touching arms, barely any space between you.

you always wondered if it meant anything to him. did his heart race like yours did?

—

2 months into your crazy infatuation of yeonjun, he was the same as always. touchy, flirty and knowing exactly how to make you feel flustered. even if he didn’t actually know that he was doing it. that is, until your birthday.

he had decided on his college of choice for the upcoming school year and got posted on the school’s introduction instagram page, so of course you and your other friends reposted it on your stories.

you spent the day with some of your friends who came back home for break and the night with your family. after a night full of celebration of you, you went to bed with a full heart and checked your messages. there you saw yeonjun talking about a girl that slid up on his friend’s story asking about him and calling him cute and how he’s been texting her all day.

you felt sick to your stomach. of course he didn’t feel the same way you did. of course he didn’t. but why was he acting the way he was? why did he do that with you?

you had planned to hang out with yeonjun and your other friends the weekend of your birthday and now you didn’t really want to see him at all, but you couldn’t cancel now so you thought you might as well make the most of it.

—

the day started out nice, the six of you met up at the mall you worked at and made your way to the friend group’s designated driver’s car.

you made a mental note not to sit next to yeonjun, so as he got in first, you made sure to get in last. you wanted today to be fun.

as the day went on, you noticed yeonjun was on his phone a lot and everytime you glanced at what he could be doing, it was always instagram dms. figures.

you weren’t disappointed about him texting the girl anymore, it was the fact that he was on his phone so much when you all took the time to plan a group hangout and spend time together. and of course it hurt that he was also on his phone because he was talking to someone else. the worst part was that everyone else in the car noticed it too. they also noticed how much it hurt you, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. but it seemed like yeonjun was the only one that didn’t seem to notice it.

you realized after a while that there was no point in sulking the whole day so you decided to just ignore him completely. wherever he went, you went somewhere else. when you all went to eat, you sat at a table of six with three seats on each side. he put his stuff down on the left side and went to the restroom, so you sat on the right side.

but when he came back, he moved his stuff to the seat next to yours and gave you a reassuring look. why was he doing that?

the entire time you ate, you didn’t really talk to him and after a while you could tell that he realized what you were doing.. which made you feel bad because he became quiet.

since you were out for your birthday you wanted to take polaroids with everyone individually. you knew that it would have been strange for you to get a picture with everyone but yeonjun and you didn’t want to ruin the air for anyone, so you decided to push your feelings down and ignore it for the rest of the day.

as you posed for the picture with him, you both leaned into each other and put up two thumbs up. an awkward pose the two of you always did. you smiled at him to pretend like you were okay and he smiled back.

when you all went back to the car, you had one person between the two of you. after a couple minutes of the ride you got a call from your mom asking when you’d be home and got a little panicked since you didn’t want to get in trouble. throughout the ride, you didn’t talk much, not only because you were nervous about getting in trouble with your parents, but also the whole situation with yeonjun.

he noticed your silence and as you were looking out the window, you felt a hand on your back. he was trying to reassure you that it’d be okay. that gesture in itself make you want to cry.

why did he keep caring about you like that? were you just overreacting?

—

the day after you all hung out for your birthday was his last shift at the shop you worked at. you opened the store and he came in an hour after. you couldn’t just ignore him, so you tried your best to act normal.

the shift was pretty quiet since you didn’t really know what to say but you chose to push your feelings down again because it wouldn’t be his last day ever again.

at the end of the shift, he was cleaning up in the back when you went to go put something away. as you walked away, he called you back.

“wait come back here” he pulled at your sleeve.

you stood in front of him, confused.

he took two steps forward and gave you a hug. “thank you”

you pulled away and looked at him with a sad look on your face. “for what?”

“i dont know, you’re a really good friend. you know that?”

you smiled, “of course i know that” and as you turned away, your smile faded.

—

you realized that you had to get over yeonjun, but it was harder than you thought.

when you first started liking him, the two of you had made plans to get your ears pierced together for his birthday. though you thought the plan would fall through, it didn’t, and suddenly there you were in his car on the way get food before the appointment.

you bought him two gifts for his birthday: matching bracelets that he said he wanted, and keychains with his favorite artists albums on them.

before eating, you gave them to him and he started unwrapping them in the car. he opened the bracelets and immediately said,

“i knew you’d get these.”

“literally how”

“because when i mentioned it the other day you told me not to buy them”

you laughed as he opened the keychains.

he gasped when he saw them, “THIS IS SO COOL,, wait is this why you asked everyone for their favorite albums?”

“yes and i got lucky since you were the only one that replied”

he started putting them on his keys and looked over at you.

“you know when i’m in college and i’m walking around campus, i could probably pick up girls with these”

you rolled your eyes, “i’ll take them back right now”

—

the same week you had gotten your ears pierced, you also got a new job! which happened to be the same place yeonjun was again…

but it wasn’t him that got the job for you, it was your other old coworker since she knew you were looking to leave your old job.

before you were scheduled, your new manager was debating whether to put you earlier or later in the month, but yeonjun made sure they made it earlier so that you could work with him on your first shift.

usually something like that would have made your head spin, but you were finally getting the hang of your insane crush on the boy, so you brushed it off.

your first day also happened to be his last before he left for college, and although you still hadn’t gotten over him, you knew that once yeonjun left for college, things would be really different. you just hoped you’d still talk to each other.

so when you were parting ways, he gave you a long hug. one of those hugs where you can feel the love from the other person.

you pulled away first and put out your pinky.

“don’t be a stranger, yeonjun”

he interlocked his pinky with yours.

“never in a million years”

—

about a month after yeonjun left for college, he texted the group chat with just a picture of him and a girl holding hands.

that’s when you remembered him telling you about a girl he met at his college’s orientation when you had went to get your ears pierced together.

instead of feeling sad, you really just felt like it was time to get over him.

so with time, you did. he was really happy with her and that was all that mattered to you.

your friend’s happiness.

—

epilogue

y/n really did get over yeonjun. they didn’t feel sick when they saw him. they could talk to him and not feel tension, and with time they even talked to each other about the people they both liked together.

but deep down, a part of y/n really felt like maybe they were in love with him.

maybe yeonjun was their first love.

and do people ever really get over their first love?

©eternallyhyucks

taglist!

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!! unable to tag bolded

—send an ask if you would like to be a part of my taglist!!

[strniohoeee]

chris founding out reader faked an orgasm w/ him and asking her why she didn't tell him

Feigned

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N has been so stressed and anxious lately that she can’t focus on having an orgasm. When she runs to her best friend for advice there’s some listening ears….👥

Warnings⚠️: Mentions of sex

Song for the imagine: Hold Tight- Justin Bieber

Sex with Chris was always amazing, I mean it was INSANE. He could either tear my shit up, or be so loving and focused on my pleasure

But lately I haven’t been able to orgasm with Chris, and it wasn’t anything pertaining to him….or was it?

I was struggling badly to cum, I was wet and I enjoyed the sex, but I simply could not focus to allow myself to cum.

The past 3 times we’ve had sex I faked my orgasm, and I felt so bad that I couldn’t tell Chris. I truly didn’t want to hurt his feelings, or make him feel incompetent. This was my own problem.

Lately I had been so stressed with work, and creating content, and helping Chris and his brothers. I know that sex is supposed to help with stress, but my mind was always racing a million miles a minute. My thoughts were racing so much I couldn’t even relax to have an orgasm

I was alone at the triplets house. I finally had a day off, and they were filming, so I decided to spend the day truly relaxing

My best friend from back home had FaceTimed me, and I decided to seek advice from her

“Sophia I’m not sure what’s going on, but like I can’t cum” I told her

“Alone or with Chris?” She asked me

“With Chris. Like the sex is so amazing, but I can not cum for the life of me” I told her frowning a little bit

“Are you relaxed and in the zone when y’all fuck?” She asked bluntly

“I thought I was, I mean I’ve been so stressed with everything that I knew sex would help relieve it, but my brain is always on go I can’t even relax to orgasm” I told her

“You should try meditating before you guys have sex. Relax all your muscles and your brain, so you can enjoy it” she told me

“Yeah that’s true! I tried to shower and decompress, and watch some tv before him and I would have sex” I told her

“Yeah that’s not enough. You have to truly unwind, you’re so anxious your brain can’t focus on orgasming because it’s focusing on 30 different things at once” she said

“God you’re right. I feel so bad I’ve been faking it” I said to her

“How many times did you fake?” She asked me

“The last 3 times” I told her

“3 times? I think you should-“ all of a sudden she stopped talking and her eyes grew wide, I looked at my reflection in the camera and saw Chris standing behind me…SHIT

“I’ll call you later” she said before immediately hanging up on me

“Heyyy baby….when did you get in?” I asked closing my laptop screen

“About 2 minutes ago” he responded with no facial expressions

“Oh….” I said just looking at him

“The last 3 times huh? When were you going to tell me” he asked

“Listen it’s not you it’s me, and I didn’t want to hurt you” I told him

“You wouldn’t hurt me….it hurts actually that you kept this from me. I could’ve helped you” he said

“I’m sorry baby, I just have been so stressed and anxious that I couldn’t bring myself to focus on cumming” I told him

“Did you not enjoy the sex?” He asked

“No! I loved the sex it’s amazing. Its literally my brain just focusing on too many things at once” I said to him

“You should’ve told me, I would’ve helped you. We could’ve meditated together or done something else that would’ve relaxed you, and put you in the mood” he said

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. We should try tonight…meditating and then having sex” I said biting my lip

“You know I’m always down for sex pretty lady” he said licking his lips before leaning in to kiss me

The End

Hope yall liked this one🤭, and whoever requested this I also hope you liked it🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[doublekanble]

dead meat

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic

word count: 11.1k

Or, the progress of going down and deeper. (please treat this as if theyre a bunch of drafts coupled together (they are) this read so much funnier if you keep in mind the fact alastor have genuine feelings/genuinely cares for you but he’s just batshit insane) its 13min til 2am if theres an error no theres not tw: gorish talks and imagery littered thru specifically 1, 5 and 7. alastor chased you down in 7.

1. Because you listen.

When you finally came back — frayed at the seams, run-through you with a headache and a rock in hand. You looked down, the warm wetness oozing from him and seeping into your pants quickly turn cold. You couldn’t tell what you’re looking at for a minute, adrenaline still running through you and your head ache just a tad. When you finally see the pink bits and the leaking blood, your breath runs ragged and your thought run miles. You try to remember all the warning your mother gave you about getting involved with a man like Alastor, you don’t know how you’ll tell mom she never gave you any advice or warning about this.

“God… Oh my God what did I—What—“

Not a single book warned you about the way you physically feel ill touching a body growing cold. So with guts churning and the prickling on your skins, you scrambled to throw yourself off and backing away from the body on all four. Desperately, you called out to whatever is there and beg in your head to wake you up from this nightmare of a show. And when you hit something distinctly warm and alive from behind, you call out to it, thinking it’s your mother, coming to save you from this, to tell you that it’s alright and that everyone make mistakes and this is nothing more than a bad dream. You’ll wake up from this soon, in your childhood bed, in your childhood room, in your childhood house and you’ll be anywhere else and not here.

But when the warmth embraces you, and you feel a warmer breath by your right ear, pressing a soft smile and a bliss-filled chuckle into it, it hit you that your mother would’ve hated you if she sees this. If she sees him.

“Oh, mon Chéri, I knew you’d have it in you” You hate the way the voice swallowed and a take a breath, as if mesmerized by the sight, like you but so wholly unlike you, it whispered in your ear, “What a show. What a show.”

Your eyes is focused on him, but not on him, not a person. That couldn’t be a person at all. Saliva tasting bitter, the bile rising in your throat hurts as you desperately tries and tear your eyes away from it. But enraptured by the intricacies inside his head, you only do so much before finding yourself looking closer for something you couldn’t understand.

“Don’t worry,” setting his lips on your temple, he sigh into your skin, one hand held onto yours and gently rubbing the red from your fingers onto his, as if helping you clean up, “It’s your first time, everything will be so much better once you’re used to it.”

Your eyes flickered between the thing and whatever of yourself visible to you. It’s all red, so much red. Its head, his head was caved in, you can see the front of his skull, everything else is everywhere. How could this ever get any better if it’s going to be this red? Was it going to be this red every other time too? You can feel your fingers going numb from the grip you have on that rock, you can feel the dent from where it dug into your palm, you can feel clearly the traces of well-kept nails running down your left arm from where he tries to pull you away. And every bit of it is red. And suddenly your clothes and his grip and the night air and your skin felt just a bit too tight, too suffocating. Your brain pulses and compressed against your skull. It hurts to think, it hurts way much more to speak.

“I—I don’t want to – I can’t-“

“I thought I couldn’t too, until I did it again, and then again. And then I realized that this,” raising the hand he held onto so kindly, almost like guiding your eyes to the sight. While the pain in your stomach is almost unbearable, he couldn’t sound any more ecstatic. “This, is freedom. Our freedom”

You were sure that the freedom that you’ve been yearning for wasn’t supposed to be associate with a corpse. No type of freedom will ever be going to drive someone to cracked open a skull in the middle of the night. There’s nothing but pure malice that will drive someone to bring a rock onto another man’s head and refuses to stop even when his ears bleed and he stop fighting and started begging. Your mother hated Alastor, and she never break his skull open. You hated your mother, and you never break her skull open.

You want to open your mouth and tell him to shut up. You want to say your mother was right, you shouldn’t have gotten involved with him, no matter how inviting his offer is. You shouldn’t have run off night after night chasing the daylight with him. He is a scoundrel, he is disgusting, he’s the worst type of delusional criminal there is, the most pretentious man in all of Louisiana. But you can’t, because you just maimed a good man and refused to hear his pleas. With nothing left to you, you all but break down into his arms.

“There, there~” he coos into your hair as your wailing get swallowed up by the cold night air, “I’m right here, aren’t I?” if only he’s anywhere else but here with you, mouth spewing reassurances one after the other.

(It’s alright, he’ll take care of it today. It’s ok, he’ll teach you about some other day. From now on, you’re going with him, whether liking it or not.)

2. Because you wouldn’t

“Isn’t he one of those highbrows you like to rub shoulders with?” her tone accusing and upset, you almost choked on your tea when she slapped the papers down in front of your food and walk out the living room. Even though you have an idea about what she talk about – the news came out just in time for it to be covered on the radio first, you still pick it up and scanned your eyes along.

“So I’m supposed to remember every face I came by now?” you glowered to yourself, “How do you know who I’m ‘rubbing shoulders’ with anyway?”

Over the sounds of your heart beating wildly in your ears, over the humming in your head, you hear her mumbled something about “that boy” as she starts to vacuumed the carpet. It’s a ridiculous thought, but for a brief second, you were sure she’s going to ask you about your numb fingers.

‘SON OF FAMOUS MUSICIAN, REPORTED MISSING AFTER NIGHT OUT-’

It’s so odd to you, how much he worth, yet how little people care. Name printed in bold font atop news about the fast declined of the economy and crashing stock markets a full week after he disappeared. He never told you his full name, nor does anyone around him ever make mention of it despite their occasional jeering and jokes. You didn’t bother with it at the time, you two weren’t the most talkative person in the room, let alone together.

Then again, it does make sense. He told you before that he’s not proud of what he came from or what he became, under drowsy lights and forced to sit side-by-side like all the other night. You still can’t drink, he still can’t dance while being miserably drunk, and nobody else wants to babysit a miserable drunk. You don’t get why anyone needs you to look after him, despite being so out of his head, he seems perfectly well with handling himself.

Your lift the tea cup to your dry lips and take a sip, the tea tasted bitter.

A voice loudly called for you, irritation written clear in it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and all but jump to her spot in the small hall, unwilling to let the two talks for more than necessary. Your mother stand with a huff to her posture.

“It’s him again.”

You laugh dryly, “It’s always him, mom.” tugging the receiver from her hand, you bring it up to your ears. The moment you do, a chuckle rang out. You shivers.

“There’s the lad of the hour! Why, I almost thought your mother was trying to stringed me along before shutting the line off again!” the mother in question grunt and grumble about how annoyingly persistent he is, you agree. Last time she did so, the phone kept ringing until she relented. “In any case, I hoped you’re all up and ready today!”

“We have nothing planned today.” Your reply was immediate and flat, hoping he would leave you alone, but Alastor only laughs in an almost affectionate tone.

“And I’m here to changed that!” he exclaimed, you run a hand down your face and try to keep your calm.

“Alastor, John’s missing. This is not the time.” you whispered sharply into the receiver, hoping to whatever’s true he’ll shut his trap for once. You’re not interested in getting caught by the neighbours over the phone of all thing.

“John? Now that sounds familiar…” he pauses, you can almost see the way he turn a brow up and pretends like he’s lost in thought, it’s almost endearing, “Why, isn’t that the lad I named on the radio yesterday?! What a horrible case! Some people are saying he finally throw himself onto a train and-“

“Alastor!” at the sound of your own voice scrapping in your ears, you pauses. You relax your grip and lower your voice, doing your best not to pay attention to the figure peeking out from your kitchen, “Listen, I don’t have the time to play around. Get to the point.”

“Clearly, you’ve the time for nothing, you and your mother…” sighing heavily, he dropped the act. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop kidding. We’ll talk once I get there. Be ready in twenty.”

“Wh— Alastor!“ The phone turn dead in your hand and you’re left standing in the hallway.

You stare at the receiver in shock, then, you grip it. Holding back the urge to break it open over the table it sits on, grinding your teeth, you place the receiver back. You clutched at the end of the table and count to ten, jaws aching and head spinning from anger. Even with your head hanging low, you can hear footsteps falling along the hallway. Your mother red house slippers stand in view from the side, you wondered if you can burn it and buy another pair.

“You’re going out with that creepy radio host again.” she’s standing with her hand crossed and an exasperated look, you just know it.

“Mom, please,” heaving a sigh of your own, you don’t want her to rub it in your face, even if she doesn’t know it, “Alastor’s not creepy. He’s a good man, I promise.” you have to believe he’s a good man, after everything. If you don’t, you’ll lose the rest of your mind. You prayed that she leave you alone, but she kept pressing.

“You keep saying that, but I know he’s nothing but trouble. I mean- look at you!? You looked so exhausted every day. Every time you leave with that scurf, you came back looking more lost than before!”

Turning to her, you have a retort at the tip of your tongue, you always do. But the looks on her face was nowhere near what you thought it was, so you stumbled. For a second, your vision blurs and your head spins. When it cleared up, your eyes met.

“That good for nothing man, dragging you out every night! Have he ever asked what you want before?!”

Standing like a cornered rat, you try to find your voice.

“I-“ you swallowed again, “I don’t mind it, mom. I like going out.”

Have your mother always looked this tired and worn beyond her age? It almost as if she’s been holding the world alone. She said your name, and you feel all lost again. Like a small child with bare knees stripped red and wailing for her to come and save you.

“You don’t even like parties.”

You remember how much she always scolded you when you got yourself into troubles, but your mom always patches you up while she does so. In the time frame before your home became more of a house and your front door is a front door without any sort of implications. And then it hit you just how old mom looked now. She used to be so tall compared to you, but now you’re over her slightly hunching figure, a little bit or a lot, it’s just enough to look down on her. Suddenly, the world feels too constricting and your skin feels too tight.

All this time, she wasn’t angry at all, was she? Your mom haven’t been angry for a long time now. But it doesn’t change you, it doesn’t change anything else. You closed your eyes and push a breath through your nose.

“Maybe I’ve changed, mom,” you walk past her into the living and tug on your overcoat with fingers stained red, fighting against the waver in your voice and hoping she won’t hear it, “maybe you should be happy for me.”

Alastor always take less than twenty to show up, but you didn’t know how long he was watching you for before clearing his throat. You didn’t bother to respond, only lifted your head up to make sure it wasn’t some random prude before shifting aside. He have the decency to stay silent and sit down with you on your front porch, offering a sympathetic smile at your sorry state and gently wiped away your tears with his red handkerchief when you refused to move and take it yourself. It wasn’t the first time you sit out and wait for him on the porch instead of listening to her outburst, but it was the first time you ever cry over it.

You wanted so desperately to turn back and tell her that you haven’t change, that you’re still her little kid. The same one that want to sit out the parties and the smokes and the dancing and the jazz just to spent the days working on something with her nearby, in the kitchen working on something or sleeping in the armchair, always in the old set of red house slippers. You want to show her something you make, only for her to not get a single part about it. You want to fall at her feet and begged her to tell you you’re still the same kid. You want her to go back to closing the front door and locking you away from the world again.

But you’re nothing but a rat, fresh off from a murder. You’d soon throw yourself in front a running train than to ever let mom know her child will ever do anything wrong. So you swallowed everything back, stand up, and walked away from her porch with Alastor hot on your trail, smiling all the while.

(you want to tell her you haven’t changed at all, but you know better than anyone else. you thought you know better.)

3. Loosely, you’ll fall.

The show was an utter bore, you’ve concluded. The allure of watching history made quickly died out when it pertains to dancing, something you’ve been watching people do with much more grace. It might’ve been much more interesting too, if the dull drums in your head invites itself out. But even when you step outside into open air outside the theater, it remains.

“Well, that certainly was… something.” Walking after you in a leisured pace with one hand behind his back, another going back and forth on brushing off his coat or adjusting his glasses, to anyone else, he looked completely normal. But you know him long enough. “I could’ve sworn it’s a musical show.”

Usually, it’s fairly hard to catch Alastor in a flustered state, facial or demeanour wise. You supposed years of practice couldn’t really stamp out personal discomfort. You would’ve felt bad, but you don’t have enough strength to bother.

“There is musical, alright,” you grumbled, a hand to your temple as you walk on without waiting for him, “I’d say it’s too much even.”

Obediently, silently, Alastor traces your footstep as you seethe to yourself. You were supposed to be back in bed and sleep away this headache and your free day at this hour. It’s a shame you just can’t help from talking back to your mom and chased yourself out of the house, onto the street, and right into his games.

You wish you could rub those kissing scenes into his face and mocked his offbeat timid nature and tell him to go shove it. For once, the mere thought of intimacy itself reminds you of that night and forced you to think about how Alastor always stands just a bit too close to you, always just behind you. It takes everything in you to not scratch at your wrist and tears your skin open, so you opted for patience and sympathy, no matter how much the image haunted your eyelids said otherwise.

Before you know it, the voices and the hollers and bumping shoulders traded itself for a single bell chiming, then hushed murmurs and echoing clinks of porcelains and glasses filled the space. You invited yourself to a small spot off in the corner with a lone seat and hunched over with your left hand over your face, while Alastor comes up to the counter. When he came back, he pulls another chair from the table right next to yours and all but covered you from everyone else’s sight. You stare at him in between the webs of your fingers while Alastor rest his chin in his right hand and hums all softly at you.

“You should’ve told me it’s still there, dear. I wouldn’t have bother dragging you out.” His free hand brush against yours in a gesture you can blindly guess as benign and kind. Unlike the Alastor from this morning, unlike him in the theater. Unlike Alastor from the broadcast and unlike the man holding onto you that night. You’ve seen this so many times before in so many people, it’s just make-believe for adults and you’ve already seen this in him. You thought you have, anyway, so you take your hand away from him and look at the approaching waitress. It must’ve been a trick of the light, the way his eyes grows just a bit darker. But you still think hard about what you would’ve said back then.

“I need to get out anyway, better here than there right now.” You would’ve been fine with the idea of going back in, but by the time you do, Alastor was standing in front of you, and you would rather let him think whatever he wants than to pissed him off even further somehow.

“Better with me~” When push comes to shove, he is a bitter man with a silver tongue, you’ve seen him pour drinks onto people and getting away scot-free. It’s always funny to everyone else in the group, until they’re at the direct end of his bitter temper.

Alastor have never even so much as raising his voice at you in anger, but you also thought he would never kill anyone, so you refuse to take any chances. As long as you stay cordial and don’t step past your line, Alastor won’t ever have a reason to. So long as you keep to your leash, he’ll be pleasant and let you go home soon. It leave a nasty taste on your tongue, how you know exactly what to do with him.

“Whatever you say, Alastor.” Gently nursing your headache, you sits a bit straighter. You really couldn’t tell what’s worse, the oddly plastic smell of the café, or the light from the bulbs burning your retinas. “You never told me why we’re out here in the first place.”

Clapping his hand together, he grins. “Oh, yes! Terribly sorry my dear, I figured we shouldn’t talk about it over the party line. Who knows what else is lurking, yeah?” you stay seated despite your instinct telling you to run. You know this was coming anyway, “See, we didn’t get to celebrate the other day. You got so sick, after all-”

He kept on talking, seemingly perfectly fine with you tuning him out. Even if he’s not fine with it, he can’t do anything to stop the almost freakish way statics filled your head and washes your entire body in a cold and numbing wave of sweat, electrics ran through your head while you grips your hair. And it’s almost like he knows what’s going through you, because he wiped away a drop of sweat running from your forehead with a knowing smile.

“Be careful now, if you get sick, I’ll have to take care of you.”

“As if you can take a step into my house.” As if she’s ever going to let him take a single step inside after today. But he kept that irritating look on him, if only the thought of tearing it off his face doesn’t hurt you so badly.

“Who said it’ll be at your house~”

His chuckle right after shuts you up. Right, you forgot. Of course you did. He have a lodge somewhere near a bayou. You weren’t sure whether Alastor meant it as a tease or a threat, you don’t really want to think about it. So you forced a laugh when he grows just a tad silent. Tilting his head, he looked at you with something you couldn’t tell, and like aways, he switch topics without a bat of an eye while you sat there with sweats running down your back in the middle of winter.

You reach for your cup and bring it to your lips without bothering to know what’s in it, trying to follow along while Alastor rattled off a to-do list he made without your consent for today’s hangout. A visit to a confectionary shop, a trip to the tailor, quick stop at a small dinner he discovered recently and, if there’s still time, he can take you to your book shop. As your vision blurred for a second, the bitter taste of coffee hit your tongue, and it took everything in you to bite back a swear and to hold your mask of politeness. Accidentally flitting your eyes up, you catch him smiles. But it isn’t the kind of smile friend gives to one another, it isn’t the type where two people love and care for each other. So you keep your gaze low and keep drinking the coffee he ordered, at least they do a decent enough job at taking your mind off of John.

(somehow, it felt so familiar, it wasn’t until the moment you crawl back into your warm bed after a cold dinner that it hit you. it wasn’t against your ear this time, but it was the same smile. you swallowed the acid in your throat and thought about how many people saw it just before they lay six-feet under.)

4. And when you finally fall,

John wasn’t that much of an asshole, but he lives like he’s the most wretched man in all of Louisiana. A shadow of a person, beyond that of a ghost. Alastor told you that the only reason anyone ever stuck around is because John have more money than anyone could ever understand, and as long as you can withstand the awkward silent and the sneers, you can count your worries for the night’s drinks goodbye.

Coming from a long and well-known line of gifted artist, John was set for life, even with his less-than-responsible lifestyle. His great grandfather wrote plays, his grandfather paint, his father plays the piano and John drink himself blind. He stop touching anything that even insinuate the idea of creating art on his twenty birthday. Ever since, he wanders the night, going from place to place to emptied his family’s wealth into pretty floozies and drink away his own shame.

With an eerily out of place grin, just close enough to his normal happy demeanour to count, just a bit too wide to be normal, Alastor show you off to John like an exotic pet while his friends already dash off to dance.

“Oh! And how could I forget, this one might not be able to play it, but they have a fantastic taste in music!” then, he turns to you with a friendly hand on your shoulder and a sympathetic look, “If only you ever have the means to pick it up, you’ll be the talk of the town for sure!””

“Surely.” John reply with an odd laugh and look you up and down, suddenly the idea of sitting back with him and watching the others felt just a bit too much for you. But you only brushed their comment off with a wave of your hand. Acting like you didn’t pick up on how John down his drink with just a bit more fervour and Alastor smiles breached the border of normalcy before he pats your back gently, as if encouraging a shy dog to socialize, before inviting himself out and leaving you alone with a man you’re not sure was all there.

You tell yourself you just won’t go with Alastor to his night parties next time, but you pick up the phone every time. And every night you have to sit right by John’s side in complete silent when everyone spreads across the bar.

At first, it was somewhat scary and unpleasant. Then, it was awkward and uncomfortable. Every time you sit right next to him, he would scoff and chuff at you under his breath. Refusing to ever talk or look at you. Unless it was time to leave, John will never do anything more than call for a drink and then sip on it until he needs another one. Every time Alastor came to check up on you, he would smile at you sweetly and make a jab or two at John. You figured by now it’s a show of sort to him, but sometimes you still make a small effort to shut Alastor up and direct him back to whatever he was doing before. It became your new normal for half a year at least.

And then one night, completely worn out and tired with the day and the loud jazz inside a loud room with lousy lights and lousy companion, you stand up without a word to anyone and went out the back door. Outside in the cold air of October, you huddled by a wall inside the back-alley and pulled your knees to your chest. Staring at your hands, you can only sigh and ruffled your hair, digging the palm of your hand into the base of your skulls and wishing you can break it open.

“If you’re so tired, then why not haul yourself back home?”

Jumping up with a yelp, you clutched at your heart, completely missing the door creaking open the first time. You forgot how John even sounded like for a minute, voice low and gruff, completely contrasting everyone else in the group.

“…” halfway peeking through the door and staring impassively, you wondered why he even bother when he seems so done with you. Words right on the tip of your tongue, you him a passing glance, debating whether this worth an excuse out of your pocket. He cut you off before you even begin to open your mouth.

“What? You’re deaf now?” John shouldered the door and step outside fully, standing in front of you.

“…And if I am?” You frown, this feels too much like being scolded. At least his voice is kinder to your ears . “Better off if you are.” He chuckled, “…So?” You would be upset, but you’re too tired and he’s not leaving you alone, so you shrugs your shoulder apathetically.

“Horrible day at work, fight with my mom, then got dragged out here again.”

“Heh, figured.” You glare up at him, he raises his hands up in defence, whiskey with a single ice cube in its glass clinking as he does so, “You seems miserable whenever the lot isn’t around to see.”

You want to spat at him, what would he know about you? But you know he’s right. It really does feel miserable, going all the way out here just to sit and having nothing to do. So you dropped your head into your palm and groan.

“Ugh-…Is it that obvious?”

He cackle, you take it as a yes and sink your head a bit lower at the sound.

“Why not just—not come?” taking a sip from his whiskey, he sat next to you without invitation, “You can just say no to him, y’know.”

“As if I haven’t tried.” You grumbled, but stop when he raised a brow at you, motion for you to keep on. A bit clueless, you shrugs again, “What? You know him for longer than me. You should know that.”

John looks at you as if you’re stupid, and you’re beginning to think you are. Pointing a finger at you, he asked you about your job. Then with a nod, he stated outright.

“But you don’t do anything for him.”

You sputtered, the irony of a drunkard basically calling you useless and being right about it doesn’t escape you at all.

“What does that have to do with anything? He’s a persistent guy, that’s it.”

“That bastard doesn’t bother hanging around anything that isn’t useful. He’s not that type of guy.”

“Then what type of guy is he?” you ask. He looks at you, licked the top row of his teeth, then heave a heavy sigh.

Dowing the rest of his whiskey, John stand up and offers you a hand. You hesitate before slowly taking hold of it and nearly fell over when he pulled you up. He mumbled a half-hearted sorry with a look.

“Not whatever you’re thinking of him, that’s for sure,” he drag you inside by the shoulder, snickering when you try to keep up and failing miserably before slowing down for you, “Now common, I need another drink.”

It’s all John ever told you about Alastor, it’s all you ever need, but you never listen.

-

John didn’t change fully after that night, but he still change somewhat. The John that was so drained and empty was still there, but he sits up a bit straighter, as if managed to confirmed whatever else he have in his head. For three months, you two never talked about what happened in the back alley, nor do you talk at all. He still down enough drink to kill an elephant and lost his balance to the point someone needs to take him home. But he nodded his head whenever he’s not tipsy enough that the ceiling spins like a globe and you catches eyes, and sitting beside him felt a bit less draining and off-putting.

You told Alastor about it later, the conversation you two have in the back alley, because of course you do, telling everything to your good friend. Alastor would then look over whenever John’s acting friendlier to you, because of course he does, and joked about it. You saved him five years of his life, he laugh. You laugh along because his tone seems just a bit off. You sometimes think about who Alastor is, whenever you have a moment to sit back and contemplates everything between you two. But not for long, because like clockwork, Alastor would pull you away to do whatever he wants for the day, and like always, you would follow along with little to no complains.

Sometime before John went “missing”, you break the thinning layer of ice between you two and tell him out of the blue that you never actually touch an instrument in your life, but you wished you have the chance to. You thought he would’ve laugh at you, but he sat through your recount of younger you being enthralled by a street musician, seeing it as a form of liberty you can only hope to capture through any other art you made. He asked why, you said there was no space in your life for making music. Not then, not now. He asked if it’s ever a regret, you stay silent.

You asked him to play you something, he huff a laugh behind his glass, but shut up when you didn’t laugh along. A false police alarm got the place empty enough for your group early that night, and the owner was desperate enough for extra cash, enough for him to mousey up and play a song you remember by heart. He played really well, you told him. His playing is the bare minimum, it lacks the souls his father have, he sneers at you. He doesn’t need to have a soul in it, just get used to being mediocre while having fun instead, you reply, leaning against the piano and staring at the group chatting away from you two. He didn’t bother with a counter, but he kept playing, this time it’s a melody you’ve never heard before. You saw Alastor turning his head to you two, but you pay him no mind and turn back to John. He looked so calm playing something like this.

John trips over his fingers and curses a lot, you tell him to keep playing. Until the song’s finished and you left standing in silence for just a bit, waiting for the other to say something. Turning the word over in your mouth, you’re a bit speechless, like you’re face-to-face with a kindred soul. But there’s no real comfort in telling a drowning man he can breathe, so you say his melody felt like home.

Worn beyond his age and exhausted in a way that’s so out of place for someone who have the world in his hand, his smile was genuine, facing towards you, like an old friend and a warm meal. The bar dives and the social circles Alastor loved pulling you along have always made you feel so out of place. Their grin’s too perfect and their voices too pleasant, all with an oddly rotten attitude. It’s like watching a picture show, it’s not how people genuinely act, it’s the semblance of one.

Maybe that’s why you and John never got along too well, he was too busy hiding his face behind glasses of gin and whiskeys, you’re too busy hiding in Alastor shadows. But you both never play along, and you both never faced each other fully before that night. You hope John never have that realization, the fact you’ve never faced him at all.

Then before you knew it, his face to the ground, all red, turned from you. That’s all you knew about John Holloway, that’s all he ever get to tells you.

(deep inside, you want to say that it wasn’t your fault. but the difference between getting swept along with life and standing in a back alley with blood on your hands is that somewhere in your empty head, you did register his scream. there’s a reason you can’t see his face and there’s a reason the rock was in your red hand, sitting in your red palm.)

5. so far down, you won’t know the way home

The forest floor was red, by the time you realized it.

It wasn’t by your hand, but it’s enough for you to step back and breathe. It always so odd to you, just how easy it really is to see in the dark, even when the moon hides away behind strips of clouds. In the dark, at the dead of night, your eyes should’ve been blind to the red that’s bleeding all over, but it never does. It took you a second to remember what you’re supposed to be looking at, and you turn the light towards the main figure, standing so proudly in the middle of this. In through nose, out the mouth. Don’t focus on the thing below, look at him and smile. He smiles back, genuine joy stiches itself on every corner of his face. If only this flashlight is weaker.

“Sorry darlin’. This one have more fight in him than I thought he would,” he strides towards you, the familiar metallic stench overwhelms your senses when his red hand came up to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, “Good thing we got it done before he find his way out, huh?”

Good thing he got it done at all, you thought. You can only bother to hide your exhaustion with a mute nod and a grim grin. Knowing exactly how this will plays out again, you remind yourself to be ready. Alastor laughs and pat your cheek affectionately before pulling you by your hand towards the corpse quickly growing cold amongst the grass. As he does, you try to ignore the echoing in your eardrums.

It was gut wrenching at first. The panting, the gasping, frantic steps that echoes through the empty woods, devoid of bird calls, devoid of life. Just a hound, chasing its prey, and a vulture perched on a tree waiting, watching. The choked exhale when they fall, eventually tired out and tripped over themselves or getting a bullet to the thigh. The way they all looked so confused, then they bargain, then they get mad and calls him every name under the sun before shutting up and look at him in the eye. You weren’t sure just how he looked to them, but perversely, you’re glad you never get to see it.

They scream and yell and beg for someone to please come and save them until they can’t anymore, but it felt like they never stop at all.

“Come here.”

He sits you down by the body, open and ready, still holding onto your wrist while you fight every bone in your body to keep your hand still and keep your foot nailed down. His face, flushed with excitement and sweat running down his forehead as he rattled on about how soon, you’ll have enough guts to do this with him instead of only ever following after and picking up the scraps.

“Remember that feeling? Remember the rush?” lifting your clenching fist up to his lips, he smiles and chases your gaze, you stare back, “Etch it into your brain, don’t ever forget it.”

With that, he plunges your fist into the open cavern of flesh and red and it feels so incredibly blasphemous and wrong. While Alastor knitted his fingers atop yours and guide your hand through the process, you feel your senses grows fuzzy around the edge. Half of you wish that headache didn’t die after the 3rd time, at least then you have something else to focus on other than the sopping wet red mush slipping in and out between your frozen fingers. The idea that someone’s inside would immediately cool off after their death is a farce to you, their warmth still so tangible and so fragile it takes everything in you to stop the burning acid from bursting in your throat. He told you on your fifth time that if you vomit on the body, he’ll have you cleaning it with him, sounding just a tad bit considerate, as if the idea of forcing you into doing something you dislike hurts him.

It's almost too much to think about, how you’re becoming something so different, something that’s just enough to his liking, to the point where all you have left are instincts and the alarms in your head. It felt like years ago when your weekdays are filled with nothing but sitting inside your cozy home and looking out the window, hoping one day you’ll be able to experience that high life and being cared for by someone who love you with everything they have, even if it’s the worst experience of your life. It’s almost like decades ago when your thoughtcrimes are no more than passerby on a long day and your smile is a sham but it’s ok because everyone bought into it and you do too. Now you spent your days looking behind your shoulders for excuses while pinprick runs up your neck, waiting for the day you’ll be buried with the people he hate.

You hope when, not if, you do have to, you’ll manage to come up with an excuse to mom for the body in that alley way. You clenched your fist, only the red squelching and spongy inside of a man you barely know respond.

(the hound stare up at the vulture and leave with a red maw, it watches the vulture from the shadow of the trees. the vulture learned to ignore the hound and feast away at leftovers.)

6. I hope you’ll call out for my name.

Unconsciously, you tap your index finger to a rhythm a man showed you some years ago. One you called beautiful, and one that made him smile. Like always, your weary and sunken eye catches red painting your left hand, but you only sigh and return to penning out your letter. A ringing echoes throughout your bleak and empty house, but no voice call out for you. There’s no point in picking up, you simply let the call die on its own. If it’s him, he’ll crawl his way to the front door with or without that call either way.

When the noise abruptly ended and didn’t pick up again, you put down your pen and hold the letter in hands that never lost its stain. Staring down at the words you’ve painstakingly poured over since her funeral, you crumbled the page and held your head. Over and over again, you write and write, hoping that some way, somehow, something can change.

But like always, nothing is enough, so you throw the paper into the small bin next to your seat, holding back the urge to throw everything else on the table with it too; your mom raise a murderer, not an ill-manner rodent. There’s no longer a point in lamenting things that can never be change in your lifetime. You can do this tomorrow, or the next day, or the day next to that, you’re considering how to go out still. As long as he’s not here, that is. You check the clock, eleven and a half, you have around fifteen minutes before he’s here.

Alastor was always suffocating, you thought, dragging yourself to a wardrobe that haven’t felt familiar for more than half a year now. Nosy and meddlesome, it’s something you picked up on even when you were a doe-eye little rat running across the night without realizing you were walking with a hunting hound, but you always thought it was simply how Alastor cares about people. Your mom was right, you were so naïve about him, thinking he can care for anyone else aside from his mother and himself.

He was always suffocating, but ever since the funeral, he all but latch onto you.

The pure black outfit he gave you was something you would wear to mom’s funeral. But coming from him, it makes you feel like a stranger was staring back from the mirror’s view, out of your own skin. So you boxed it and hid it under the sofa after the whole thing.

And of course, Alastor knows this. So whenever he browse through your wardrobe on his own accord, he would always make sure to make a comment about how these plain and boring clothes never look right on you with a good-nature smile. You no longer have the mind to bother with a reply, so you let him do whatever he wants. As long as he get his digs in, you get your peace of mind. The things in here means the world to you, but what use is there to defend something you’ll soon have no use for.

Clicking your tongue, you pulled out something that looks decent for the street and locked the door to your room. You fixed your clothes until it fits right on you and sat on your bed, wondering if you should just stay inside and make him take some couple extra steps. But decidedly, being in your own room with him will always be so much more unnerving of an experience rather than just letting him shuffling through your stuff on his own. So, the door to your room open with a click, and you step out into long familiar but distant hallways. You wish you can unlearn the concept of loving something that isn’t tangible anymore. It’ll make the hallways a bit brighter.

Like usual, you peek into the empty, almost sterile kitchen and walk up to her armchair. After confirming that you’re alone today also, you found yourself back on the sofa with nothing else to do, simply waiting for Alastor. Checking the time again, it’s exactly mid-day now, so his mother must’ve needed help with something, you’ll have to wait for a bit. Gulping down the uncomfortable heavy weight that settled over your heart since a year and a half ago, refusing to ever die, you lie down and close your eyes.

A year, a half, two week and three days, it’s really a wonder how you work. Maybe that’s what Alastor sees in you, a walking list of contradictions, or maybe this is how everyone works, and you were just cruelly kept out of the loop. Even though you never bother to consider her in your own life, ever since a year and a half ago, you wake up staring at the ceiling with bleary eyes wondering what’s she’s doing every day and why you can’t hear her. Then, remembering that she won’t be doing anything from now on, you get up and make yourself breakfast. Sometimes you would still hear someone calling for you, along with the constant ringing from the phone, but then one day, you forgot how she sounded like, so you starts to ignore the calls.

The day you realized you can no longer hear her voice, calling out to you from the door to your house, you’d tried to trace her footstep by opening her cookbook and making the dish she love. One moment, you were staring down into the pages, the next, you’re seated at the counter, surrounded by Alastor’s companions. You’d call for a  whiskey. Everyone find it absolutely hilarious and jokes about your new life while you held the glass in your hand and stare down into the amber-colour liquid. Just as Alastor laugh and reach out for your hand to take it away, talking about how you simply won’t be able to handle the aftermath, you knock your head back and the glass ran clear in one gulp. His friends all cheered for you and shoving another glass into your hand, assuring you’ll get used to this soon, but you don’t know how much you can trust them.

Quite frankly, the whiskey was beyond repulsive. As if you just swallowed flaming charcoal, your throat burns so badly, it’s stopping you from forming a single coherent sentence. You can’t stop yourself from tearing up over it, either, vision blurred and unsteady while a beginning of a headache started creeping up on you, so you down whatever’s in your hand again in the hope of becoming familiar with it fast enough to never have to think twice about it. Before a pretty dame in the group can pass you a third drink, you were hauled up by the shoulder and drag out the door, Alastor hissing a goodbye to the group through his teeth.

Storming off ahead and ranting about how utterly irresponsible you are while you stumbled behind him like a fawn, Alastor would slow down and stare when he can’t hear your soft footstep anymore. You remember walking by a closed tailor shop and flopping yourself down, back against the glass window and weeping without a word. He walked back and sit next to you after a while. You know he’s waiting for you to say something on your own, but you only shrink into yourself. You don’t know what was worse in that moment, the burning in your throat, the head splitting ache slowly brewing or the fact you never know your mother favorite food. How are you supposed to grief someone you don’t know anymore?

In the midst of it all is Alastor, who seemingly lost all of his previous anger. You’ve seen a lot of him over the years, you know he sees all of you. But this is the first time you break down without a word or a reason and you wondered if he feels just as lost and confused as you are. It as if he doesn’t know what to do with you once you actually breaks in a way that doesn’t serve his vision of you, in a way he never have to fix before.

“…Tough day?” with an oddly shy tone, he nudge you from the side, “Didn’t know you’re this much of a sad drunk, honey. Guess I was right to keep you off the bottle after all.” He chuckled, then trail off when you stay silent and stare off into nothing.

It must’ve been no more than ten minutes, but it felt like years before you gave up and open your mouth, voice breaking and quiet. “He made it look so easy.”

“He? Michael?”

He perks up the moment you speak, mouthing off the names of all his associates in hope of finding the one that raises your ire. You would’ve found him endearing if things were different, but you cut him off.

“John,” Then as if it’s not enough, as if Alastor never remembers anyone else, you try to keep your voice even while rubbing your eyes “John Holloway. He made drinking look so easy.” Even without looking, you can see his lips pulled into a taut line.

“Ah, right, John Holloway,” rolling his eyes and shuffling that much closer to you and pulling out his handkerchief, he sneers, holding your wrist still while wiping your face, “No doubt he does. If you didn’t take him out, that chump would’ve drink himself to Hell on his own.”

“At least then he gets to pick his own way out…” You huff.

“It’s been years, honey!” done with cleaning you up, he stuff the handkerchief in his left pocket, “I can’t believe you’re still hung up on him!”

With every word out of his mouth, Alastor’s fake and chipper accent gets just a bit firmer, as if finally knowing what to do. Sitting up straight and pulling his glasses off, he wiped it on his vest and ask dismissively.

“When did he die again? Was it 1928?”

“1929,” you breathe and lean your head against the glass, “Remember that musical you called innovative and new?”

“If only I can forget.” He blanch at the thought of it, you smile wistfully.

“The music was nice, it’ll be nice to watch it again.” From the corner of your eyes, you catches his. You hated how he look so content with this.

“That makes one of us…”

After that, a blanket of silence fell onto you two. With a headache in full swing, you recalled asking whether he ever remembers how they look. Chuckling, he only leans close until your nose almost touch and say that he does. You ask if he’ll ever remember you, he froze and stare into your eyes with an almost incomprehensible look. Standing up, he brushes himself from dust and give you a hand, you take it.

Before you two departed in front of a door that no longer lead to a home, he tells you in an almost too quiet voice that he hope he never have to remember you. You hate his everything in that moment. From how his stands was just a tad bit different from his usual tall and confident poised self to the way he looks so abnormal with the corner of his lips dipped down. You hate how you’ve grown fond of his smile, so you turn and closed the door with a good night.

In the morning, sounding like you just dragged yourself from hell back up, you asked him for a clipped picture from the old newspaper and leave it under your pillow. And ever since, you’ve been rewriting the same letter. To everyone that you ever have a hand on, and to John and your mom. But specifically to John and mom.

John was a good man. It’s a shame he drank too much and care too much in one night. It’s a bigger shame that you can’t keep your thoughtcrime as exactly that, a thoughtcrime. He was right, too. You never knew the man you called Alastor, you don’t think you’ll ever do and you’re happy for it. You only ever find the cowardice to take another man’s life with his help, and you’ll only ever find yourself in more trap than being free from it.

You still bought yarns and cookbooks that you think your mother would’ve love. You come back with enough groceries for two people and the kitchen table are always set for two. You check every day in the kitchen for her still. You still crept up behind the armchair just in case she’s sleeping. Her red slippers still sat patiently just in front of her door. You know she never will be there, but it’s a nice thought. And since mom won’t ever going to be there again, you’ll take a nap. Alastor can have fun dealing with half-asleep you once he’s here.

(you’re woken up by the sounds from your kitchen, the smell familiar. as if finally escaping a bad nightmare, you sprang up on your feet and peek in like a child. Alastor stood at the stove, smiling at you. for the first time in years, his smile didn’t reach his eyes.)

7. we’re going to hell together, after all.

Left, right, right, left.

The silent always puts you on edge, as if there’s something out here, biding for it’s time. If only it’s a beast you can take down with a shotgun. You try to recall the forest trail that you know is somewhere out here as shadows of trees covered you from the moon. But you know Alastor, and you know for a fact that if he wanted to, he could herd you out of New Orleans with just a couple of words and a smile. So you uselessly try to focus past the thundering in your ears, you can’t hear a trace of him anymore. So on the count of three…

Throwing yourself to the right, you almost slammed into a tree as a bullet lodge into the trunk of another just right ahead. A soft chuckle rang out from behind, you kept running. Left hand clutching your right wrist, a sob bubbling up from your aching throat, it’s between running like this and letting the hand ram itself into whatever’s there in the forest. Even if you’re blessed with the chance to get out of this alive, you’ll never have use for your right hand ever again. Bones doesn’t heal right when they sit past five days, but you’re not sure you can even hold a pen with a mangled thumb and a pinkie barely hanging on. You  lost a bit of your will at that, but the silence of the woods draws you from your thought. You want to die by your own hands.

Right, left, right.

But you know you won’t be able to. The moment you let him take you here, you already lost. Alastor knows the woods better than you. He knows hunting better than you. And you’re sure he knows he can outrun you at any time. You refuse to dwell on the meaning of it and push your left hand against a tree.

Another shot rang out, this time hurling right by your head and nicked the tip of your right ear and went into the night. You don’t know where it goes, but you staggered just a bit and nearly launch yourself forward when a small bush snatches the end of your clothes.

“Sorry honey!” his voice gets further and further away while he stand still and yell out to you with a casual tone, as casual as he can keep it, “Frayed nerves and all~” he laughs, the rest of his words intelligible, and then suddenly, the forest went silent again. You can’t afford to stop and think anything through, so you push on ahead.

When you’re stuck with only the breaking and crushing of leaves under foot and your own winded breaths filling your ears, you cursed. Your throat starch, your lungs burns. With every step you take, your visions blackened around the edge and breathing alone hurts so horribly. It’s a blessing you even lasted for this long, you never have to chase anyone like he did. You wishes you burn that letter instead of dropping it in the bin, you wish you burn that house down instead of living with a ghost you can’t see. You wish you burn him. You know something was off with him that day, Alastor couldn’t shut up to save his life ever since he gets the key to the house. But he didn’t so much as uttered a word to you while staring down at the cutting board, but you didn’t care enough to ask him. Biting back a curse when a stinging pain shot up from your ankle, you feel your head spin as a short and pained chuckle escape your dry lips, he was thinking about how he wants you dead, surely.

Left, left? Right. L-

You can’t help but cry out the moment the bullet sink into your right upper thigh and sent you down. You crashed sideway onto the forest floor and black out for just half a second when a rock dig into your left temple. Clutching at your thigh with a broken hand, your laugh sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, almost choking as it drags nails and spikes through your throat, like that of an animal, like you’re an animal. The loss of oxygen is getting to you, the irony doesn’t escape you.

While your body winds down and the pain and exhaustion settles in, you go into the most horrible aftermath you’ve ever have to endure. Your head pulsating with every beat of your heart and your limbs grew heavy and cold. Vividly, you pick up on leaves breaking and sticks crushed under heavy footstep and you abandoned all sort of dignity to scrambled and try to drag yourself away from him, fingernails dug into dirt and grass to pull your lead like body away. But another clink, another shot hit your lower torso from behind as your choke scream got swallowed up by the earth, left to clutch at your wounds with face buried into the earth and tears streaming from your eyes.

“Oh honey, why so sad?” a heel sit on your bullet wound, dancing in circle before he slowly press his whole weight onto it. Your suffocating wail isn’t enough to amused him, but he still laugh with such gentleness in his tone. “I thought this is what you want? Weren’t you writing to dear old John about leaving? Well, here it is!”

The relief he granted you last for all but half a second before he bring his foot down. Stinging, numbing pain spread through your entire body and you’re left gasping for air while he held your shoulder and set you to face him. Hunching over your shivering body with a hand on your face, he smiles. Or at least you think he is, there’s not a point trying to make out a single thing over the agonizing pain that’s making a home in your body. You wanted so badly to just black out and die right here, you pretty sure you did black out at some point, but Alastor slap your cheek lightly and calls your name with almost a whine to his tone. The warmth from his hand stand out amongst the incomprehensible burning of your flesh and the blood rushing through your head, why are you here again?

“Oh come on, don’t leave me hanging like this. You know I hate it when you ignore me.”

You’re not, you want to scream. If there’s anything you can ever say for him to get off of you and leave you alone, you would. You don’t know if it’s the blood lost or the pain getting to you, but your already waning visions of him blurs beyond recognition while he coos at you.

“I guess it really do hurts that badly?” he laughs, “One question solves then!”

At the mention of it, your blood ran cold and the forest felt just a bit more freezing than it already was. Right, he did say something about John, didn’t he? Almost like it was yesterday, when you’re sitting alone in your room at eleven in the morning. Although barely able to remember the exact wording of every letter, you know by heart the concepts and questions in all the letters you’ve written and rephrased a thousand times and over. But the question wasn’t in that one, it was at least several drafts before it, dropped because it was too presumptuous to ask your first and closest victim such a horribly him question. All of it, sitting neatly in the bin right by your writing desk. All of it, he could’ve read in the hours it took you to wake up.

You want to stick to what’s left of you and die raising your head just a bit higher than when you live by not letting him hear a word out of you, either the fact your throat still hurts so badly just swallowing or the fact you know it’s all but useless talking now that’s keeping you. But from the corner of your eye, you saw his right, red hand gripping tightly onto something that you can’t properly make out, and then you remember the reason you never anticipated any of this occurring within your lifetime.

“Th-the letters…” you groaned, “it’s not-you-“

Right, the reason you were caught off guard by him breaking your fingers while pinning you to his car, the reason you couldn’t even begin to make head from tail when he pressed you for the name of whoever it was that makes you do this. The letters that is, for all its intended purposes, your suicide note.

“Yes, yes,” with a draws to his voice, as if he’s tired of this, “Your lovely letters, to dear old ma and John. We both know I read all about them.”

“No-“ you cough, it’s hurts just to breathe, “I wasn’t going to- tell them-“

“Oh, that. I know.”

For just a moment, you’re void of anything. All the pain and the blistering heat and the cold night air leave your body for just a second and left you with nothing at his words. You’re aware of his every movement, even through the darkness of the night. Suddenly, everything is too much, too loud.

“I thought you’re smarter than this, love.” you can’t see him properly at all, but you can’t see him smiling and it scares you,  “It never was just about the letters.”

“Then what-“

Shushing you, he leans down until your forehead nearly touched, you try to focus and find his eyes at this awkward angle but it only worsen the unbearable pounding in your head.

“This, is what you want,” he pauses, you can see the outline of his jaw shifting, like rolling words on his tongue. You want to call him a madman, but you don’t even know if this is him anymore. This isn’t the Alastor you know for years. He would’ve never talk to you without that stupid accent that’s everywhere on the radio. The Alastor you know doesn’t need to considers his words talking to anyone, always with an excuse on his sleeve. And that Alastor would never gotten so close, wouldn’t have sounded so personal. “You said you want to leave. To get to that ‘freedom’, right?”

He sounded so hurt, as if it’s him that’s being crushed under weight with bullets in him and two broken fingers, as if it’s not you writhing on the forest floor, as if he’s the one dying tonight.

“You can’t bear to live anymore, right? You can’t do this with me anymore, can you?” you’re painstakingly reminded of the fact he still have his right hand on you, casually moving it down to your neck while he raises his left. You aren’t sure why, but you still try to claw at the hand clasping gently around you. You think this happened before, but you weren’t sure where the idea came from, the loss of oxygen getting to you quicker than you thought it would. Somewhere in the back of your mind, your fingers, two broken and eight dirtied with dirt and your own blood, it lost the red that have been clinging onto you like a disease.

“Al-“ in that moment, your vision suddenly cleared, like a last-ditch attempt at life. The grip he have around you is like that of a snake, too. Coiling gently and kindly, with a thumb digging into your skin while the inners of your ears felt like bursting open.

“It’s alright, mon Chéri, I’ll help you. I always have, haven’t I?” he always have been helping you, but that was Alastor, your friend and the demon on your shoulder. Not the man that’s staring down at you with such a look and speaking to you with such tenderness and love you can’t begin to dissect.

Desperately, you stare up at the image of an unfamiliar man with voices you’ve never heard before. He smiles a smile so painful, as if losing his mind too, but you can’t tell who he is anymore. Your mom was right, John was right, you’re right, but none of it matters when you’re running out of breath and the rock in his left hand fits so well into his palm.

“I’ll come see you when I’m down there, wait for me.”

Your vision bloomed and blurred away. You stay awake for long enough to hear the first crack of skull, reverberating through your eardrums. You’d stay awake for the second hit, and the third. And you stay awake for just long enough to grow envy of John for never having to faced you that night.

(the hound leaps, sharp fangs breaking tough skin and tearing veins, the vulture, without a mind to think of god, only knows how to cries out.)

[cripple-punk-dad]

Once again feeling emotions about God, Forgive These Bastards: Songs From The Forgotten Life Of Henry Turner by The Taxpayers. I listened to the whole album not really knowing the background or the story behind the title. I just loved the music and the artist's voices. But then I found the explanation by the main vocalist on the album, Rob Taxpayer, and:

"The first time I met Henry Turner I feared for my life. I remember the exact date – February 18th, 2007 – because the day before, a close friend of mine had unsuccessfully attempted to commit suicide in his studio apartment and I’d spent the entire night at the hospital. It was one of those terrible and typical Pacific Northwest winter nights where the rain seemed relentless and the gloom was contagious, and as I waited at a sheltered bus stop on Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard for the # 6 to arrive, a man approached me for a cigarette.

I shook my head and gave him a half-smile.

“Sorry. I quit a few years back.”

I stuck my head back into the newspaper I was reading, and he took a few steps closer.

“How about a buck and a quarter then? All I need is a dollar and a quarter and I’ll have enough for bus fair.”

I shrugged and fumbled around in my pocket.

“I’m using an expired bus transfer myself, but I might have a few extra dimes. It ain’t much, but if it helps, it’s yours.”

I passed him the change, and when he grabbed it, he ducked down to my level and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Look at me. Does it look like a few extra dimes would help? You think a few extra dimes would do any good to anybody? Take a look at me. I got a rotten heart and a bad shoulder and I ain’t slept a good night’s sleep in the past ten years, and you wanna know the kicker? I get fuckers like you tossing me their condescending extra dimes.”

He was tall and intimidating, with wild gray hair and deep wrinkle lines all across his face, and his eyes would occasionally roll up into his head, quiver, and then refocus. His thick, wet coat and his tangled beard had bits of crumpled leaves stuck to them, and he carried himself with the strange confidence of an angry and confused lion.

“And the best part about all of this is that I know you’re cheating me. And you know what I did to the last bastard that cheated me? “

He paused for a few silent, terrifying seconds.

“I bit his ear off.”

I almost pissed my pants. My brain was telling me, “get up and run”, but my body was frozen in fear, and I sat there shaking in excruciating silence. Sure, maybe he was harmless, but something about the look in his eyes terrified me. I could see the bus approaching from about a quarter of a mile away. I did the math. From that distance, it would be another minute or so before the bus arrived, saving me from certain death. I could try to fight back. But while he was an old man, he was an enormous old man, and anyways, you just can’t fight a crazy person. I could run. That was it. I was going to have to get up and run before he sunk his teeth into me, or pulled out a knife, or worse.

Suddenly, he burst into laughter. Not a maniacal laughter, but a booming, good-natured laughter, and his angry eyes became kind and warm. His snarl turned into a crooked smile, and he slapped me on the back like an old friend.

“Aw, I’m just fucking with you, kid. Ain’t much for laughs around here. You’ll have to forgive me.”

He held out his massive hand for me to shake.

“Henry Turner. Friends call me Hank. How ya doin'?”

I was still petrified. Was this some sort of a trick? Was he going to grab my hand and then snap it off like a tree branch? He looked me over and laughed again, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a bus pass.

“Here. This one ain’t expired. Go on, take it, I got a whole stack of ‘em.”

And with that, the bus pulled up to our stop in the rain, the doors opened with a loud mechanical sigh, and Henry held out both his arms, outstretched, in the direction of the doors.

“After you, kid.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was a semi-celebrity around town, although most people wrote him off as just another one of the crazy folks that told rambling, drunken tales – amusing for a few minutes, but best largely avoided. It was true, he had his demons, but he also had a magical brilliant quality to him, and whenever I ran into him around town, I’d end up spending a few hours with him, if for no other reason than to listen to his unbelievable stories. It didn’t really matter whether they were true or not, it was the way he told them, with absolute clarity and confidence, no matter how crazy they sounded. Some of it even checked out. He’d often talk about his years playing baseball with Georgia Tech, and the famous play-off game where he pitched a two-hitter in 1979. When I got home, I went on the internet and looked up the Georgia Tech roster from 1979, and there he was. Henry Turner. I’ll be damned.

The years went by. I’d leave town for months at a time, but when I came home I could always expect to run into Henry for the latest news and a ridiculous tale. Businesses closed and new ones opened, houses changed ownership, new faces arrived and old ones disappeared, but he was like an ancient marble pillar – unaffected by the changes around him. Or so it seemed. In the winter of 2010, three years after we first met, I ran into Henry on one of the downtown park blocks. He was disheveled and had these crazy eyes, and when he recognized me, he touched me on the shoulder and said something to the effect of, “Gonna go away for a while. You’ll hold onto something for me, yeah?”. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a huge stack of unused bus passes, thrust them into my hands, and walked away. It was the last time I would see him.

Henry Turner died on March 25th, 2010, a product of years of substance abuse and tough living. If a funeral was held I wasn’t aware of it. The news of his death hit me harder than expected, and it sparked an obsession: I began compulsively writing down every outlandish and unbelievable story he’d ever told me, as a sort of tribute. My band started working on an album of songs pertaining to Henry’s life. My nights were spent researching everything I could find about the Turner family. I would rant on and on to complete strangers about the whole ordeal. Then slowly, it began to subside. Life went back to normal. Though I never quite forgot about it, my utter entrancement with the Turners faded.

What follows is an amalgamation of the stories Henry told me, as best as I can remember them. I hope I did him justice. There are some embellishments and I took quite a few liberties, but like all good narrators, Henry knew that any story worth telling should be grand, significant, and a little bit false. It’s important to note that Henry was no hero, and I’m not trying to romanticize or defend him – as you’ll find out, he was a murderer, an abusive husband, an unapologetic addict, and a crook who was haunted by his most awful moments. But he was also at times a tender, loving father, a brave adventurer, and an amazing pitcher, who was surprisingly candid and an absolute charm to listen to. No person can be summed up by their worst actions. And despite his insistence that “forgiveness ain’t an inherent human quality”, that’s what this whole thing’s been about for me: the capacity to forgive someone’s most wretched moments.

Ultimately, I think that when Henry was at his best, he was something simple: a kind, strange friend" -Rob Taxpayer, from The Taxpayer's Bandcamp page

Look at me look me in the eyes: "No person can be summed up by their worst actions" I'm broken I'm dead I'm deceased. The last track on the album is an interview with somebody who knew Henry as a child. It's about remembering someone that nobody else thinks about it's about preserving the memory of the jerks and the assholes and the addicts because everyone deserves to be remembered and to have songs sung about them and have their stories told in whatever way they can be told.

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {67}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Threats, Guns, Blood, Injuries, Lots of Angst

Words: 3,578

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

First of all, sorry this is so late. Second, I'm missing a few chapters on the Escape Masterlist, but if you're behind more than those few, you should be able to find them on my page if you scroll down. There shouldn't be much in the way of finding them.

Enjoy guys! Happy Saturday!

Squad cars surrounded the house. Flashing lights just spinning in circles and lighting up the neighborhood while officers searched Cassidy’s residents. Bobby was out front with a team, looking over a map and trying to think of where they should look next. 

They went through evidence and any clues that they could come up with that might help find where he was hiding, but they continued to come up with nothing.

There was one lead that they had a team looking into, but they haven’t heard back from that unit yet. Bobby had sent a few officers out to the house that Paul and, to whom they know now as Cassidy kept their victims and he was anxiously waiting to hear from them.

“I can’t get a hold of Dean.” Styles stressed, hanging up the phone for what felt like the hundredth time. “I texted Sam to see if he could go check on them, but…” When Styles sighs, Bobby looks up. “I don’t have a good feeling, Bobby.”

“Me neither.” Hoping that he would already have an answer, Styles looks down at his phone, but of course there’s nothing yet. “Alright, let's see what we can do.” As Bobby crosses off a few spots on the map, his radio goes off, getting the attention of every officer standing by.

“Captain?”

“I’m here. What do you got?” 

“Well, the house is empty. Doesn’t look like anyone has been here for a while. But, we got a call from someone claiming they heard gunshots not too far up the road from here, so we’re going to go check it out.”

“Gunshots? What direction?” Frantic, Bobby looks over the map to find where the house was located.

“Just a few miles East.” Bobby slides his finger along the road, looking to see if anything shows up on the map that could look like something.

“It looks like it’s all farmland. But there might be a residence up that way. Check it out, watch your backs.”

“You got it” By the time the team clicked off, Bobby looked up to see that Styles was looking at his phone again, his thumb clicking on the screen every now and again. 

“I don’t think you’ll hear back from Sam for at least another fifteen minutes.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Looking confused, Bobby listens to his detective. “I’m looking into the land up that way. We know that serials not only like to take trophies, but they also like to feel safe. Comfortable.”

“Right.” Bobby agrees, still a little confused.

“I’m trying to see if there’s anything up that way that could be connected to Cassidy.” Bobby’s a little frustrated that he didn’t think of that earlier, but he was grateful that he had a team heading that way and that he had someone with a brain looking into it.

“The land belonged to the Vanderbelts for decades…” Styles shakes his head, hating that it didn’t sound like it was connected to their guy.

“Wait! Vanderbelt?” At Bobby’s excitement though, it gives him some hope.

“Yeah.”

“That was Cassidy’s wifes maiden name. That land must have belonged to her family.” Their eyes said it all and they knew they needed to move. “Alright! I need you, you and you to stay here in case he comes back! The rest of you, follow us!”

-

The first set of officers came upon the scene, seeing flames coming from the old abandoned barn. They got on their radios and called in for a fire team right away all while Bobby, Styles and the other officers that followed heard what was going on through the radio communications.

“Anyone seem to be there?” Bobby asks, the radio letting out a bit of static as he gets off the line. Styles stares ahead, wanting to get there as fast as he can because he just knew in his gut that something was wrong and he wanted to find out what it was before it was too late.

“I’m not sure. I’m approaching the entrance now. Hold on.” The seconds between that and the next call out was torture. It was so quiet in Eddie’s car, he didn’t even have the radio on. He kept looking from the road to the clock on his dash, minutes just kept ticking by and he didn’t understand why they weren’t coming back. Was Cassidy still there? Were they hurt? So many questions ran through his head.

It wasn’t until about five long minutes later that static picked up on the radio and Rocky, the main officer's voice came through, finally.

“We need immediate medical assistance! Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Requesting air support!” Styles stumbled with the radio, trying to lift it from the holder in a frenzy.

“Rocky! Who is it!?” he lets go of the button for a second to readjust the device in his hand. “Is it Winchester!?” Again, some silence goes by, making Styles want to scream, but then the confirmation comes through. 

“Affirmative! Detective Winchester is clear of the building but is in serious condition! We need to….” At the sudden cutoff, Styles begins to panic.

“Rocky!?”

“Rocky? What’s going on?” Bobby then chimes in and Styles holds his breath.

“Sorry. Winchester says that Cassidy took off. Not sure which direction he went though.”

“Does he have his car!?” Styles is praying that the answer is yes knowing that he can trace the squad car.

“No. Winchester is shaking his head. He…he’s not doing good though, guys.”

“Air support is on the way. Tell him to hold on.” Bobby was always someone that held himself together, but for the first time ever, Styles heard emotion in his voice. “What type of injuries are we looking at?”

“Uh…Three GSW’s, two to the chest and one to the thigh. It looks like he has a nasty laceration on his head too.” Styles instantly feels sick. Seeing him shot in the shoulder was enough, but this…this was so much worse.

“Is Captain Singer on this line?” A new voice comes through, getting everyone confused on what was going on now.

“I’m here. What is it?”

“Well, I know one of your detectives has a pretty distinct car, just wanted to check with you and see if you knew where he was tonight. You know, the one who owns the Impala?” All their hearts stop in that second.

“What about him?”

“Well, I just pulled one over for running a red light. License plate, Kilo, Alpha, Zulu, Two, Yankee, Five. But it didn’t look like your guy, so…thought I’d check.”

“That’s his plate, Bobby!” Styles screams into the radio, the anger he’s feeling because of this entire situation making it hard to keep his officer mindset. This was personal and he was going to make sure he finished this. “Where was he headed!?”

“Well, when I let him go he was heading south on Gilpin, just off of Blackwood.”

“Thank you, officer.” Bobby sends through, hoping that the officer will switch channels.

“No problem.”

“I’m going after him, Bobby.” Styles puts through, practically an order as he was more than ready to flip his car in the other direction whether Bobby was okay with it or not. It’s only silent for a few beats before the Captain clicks on.

“Okay. I need two other units to go with him. Don’t care who.”

“You got it, boss.” One patrol unit confirmed and seconds later, another. Styles slowed down and then turned back to see if he could cut off Cassidy from another direction, the two other patrol cars mirroring his movements and keeping up with no issues.

-

Bobby’s tires spat up the dirt as he pulled up to the barn. He barely got the patrol car in park when he was jumping out of his seat and rushing over to where the EMT’s were hovered.

“Dean!” As he gets closer, he starts pushing people out of his way. “Move! Move! Dean!?” They had him on a stretcher and were just about to lift him and move him to the helicopter a couple yards away, so he made it just in time. “Oh, son…” Dean opens his mouth to speak, but only gurgled whispers come out. Yet he doesn’t quit until Bobby catches at least one word.

“Y/N?” The detective nods, grateful that he understood. “Where is she?” When Dean’s eyes close, Bobby takes the hint. “She’s with him?” That’s when Dean opens his eyes again, tears pooling quickly and overflowing without a sound being made. “Okay. Well, Styles is on his way to cut him off. He’ll get her, alright?” There does seem to be a relief that washes over the man, but it’s not enough to heal him unfortunately.

“We need to get him out of here.”

“Right. Yes, go ahead.” The paramedics lift the stretcher then, but before they can wheel him away, Dean reaches out and grabs Bobby’s arm and in return he places his hand over his. “We’ll get him.” he tells him, squeezing his hand. “I promise.” More tears slipped from Dean’s eyes, the salty liquid mixing with the blood stains on his face.

While Bobby watches them load up his non-blood related son, he gets on his radio and calls out for Styles, wondering if he found Cassidy or not.

Thankfully, luck seems to be on their side.

-

“It’s over, Cassidy! Drop the knife!” You shook in his arms, the knife to your throat even pinching your neck a bit. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had nicked some skin at this point. “You’re surrounded and we’re not letting you leave here unless you’re in one of these patrol cars, so you mine as well give it up.”

“Man, you and Dean are so optimistic. But I can tell you right now that that isn’t happening.” 

Styles knew right then and there that Cassidy wasn't going to give in. He might not make it out of this alive, but he sure as hell will take as many of them out along with him and his first priority? Y/N. He knew that no matter what happened in the next few minutes, he had to protect you at all costs. For Dean.

Without drawing too much attention to himself, Styles glances at the officers to his right. They’re just out of sight for Cassidy and they may have the advantage of getting the drop on him without you getting caught in the crossfire. But he forgot how good Cassidy really was.

Seeing this, Cassidy’s eyes sneak a peek to his left, but they don’t waste too much time on looking for the threats. He’s as quick as a cat. With you still in his hold, he drops the knife and whips out Dean’s gun, sending off two shots and taking down the two officers advancing on him. In that time, Styles sends off a shot of his own but Cassidy drops to his knees, tearing you down with him.

But at least that worked to their advantage. With that motion, you were able to get free. Knowing it wasn’t safe to be within shooting range of Cassidy, you took off towards the woods just off the road. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had to run for your life, so it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

In retaliation, Cassidy sent a shot off towards Styles before turning and shooting the remaining two officers with him and then he took off into the trees after you. 

Grateful, Styles was able to dodge the bullet that went flying at him and when he realized that, he too took off into the tree line, hoping that he could find you before Cassidy did.

-

You had heard the other shots go off when you took off running. At first you were afraid that those bullets were meant for you, but when you heard boots shuffling through the brush behind you, the more you started thinking the worst.

The thought of all those officers, including Eddie, dying because they were there to save you caused you to choke up as you made your way through the trees. You only made it a few more feet in when you had to stop. Between the running and your emotions heightening, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

Finding a large tree, you leaned up against it, peeking around the trunk and trying to listen for any movement around you. When everything seemed to be clear, you rested back against the bark, taking calming breaths as best as you could.

Your eyes dropped to the handcuffs locking your wrists together and the pessimist in you seemed to seep out. Dark thoughts instantly clouded your thoughts and your emotions rose even more.

You thought about how you were stuck out here with Cassidy. Dean was gone, and if not, he was probably going to be soon because Cassidy was a good shot. For all you knew, Eddie and the other officers were laying out in the road, bleeding to death and if there was another unit coming, the odds of them making it to you before Cassidy does was very slim.

You were screwed.

Tears fell to the ground below you, your hands shaking as you let yourself break down. The heaviness of the situation was crippling and you were terrified that you weren’t going to make it out of this.

The thought of losing Dean was the worst of all. You couldn’t stop picturing him on the ground, bleeding everywhere as you were pulled away from him. But the more you stood there and thought about him, the more you were reminded that he wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you crying over him when your own life was still on the line. You could even picture him there in front of you, trying to get you to move your ass. Sweet but firm, of course.

For how much your subconscious fought back and told him to shove it, you knew you needed to stop. You needed to get out of this and if anyone was capable of doing that, it would be you. You escaped hell once before, who's to say you can’t do it again? 

Taking another moment for yourself, you looked down at the ring on your finger, letting a few more quiet sobs shake you before lifting your hands and kissing the object that connected you and Dean. Then, cautiously, you peeked around the trunk again. You couldn’t hear anything but that meant nothing with this guy. He was good and you had to remember that.

Taking a chance, you slowly made your way further into the trees, keeping your eyes peeled and your ears on full alert. You were terrified. You were trembling, but you knew you needed to keep going.

After making it a few more feet, you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you. Out of reflex, you spun around, your eyes darting all over the place as you tried to find what made the noise. But there was nothing. Of course you knew better, but you couldn’t see anything which only made you more scared. 

Carefully, you kept moving. Slow but steady as you tried to make it to the next huge tree so that you could get some cover again. 

You were only a few feet away when you were swept off your feet, a hand going over your mouth as you were flying forward. Just as you were shoved up against a tree trunk, you started flailing your arms, trying to hit anywhere and everywhere you could, refusing to be taken prisoner again. Heavy breathing and panicked noises were kept muffled by the man in front of you and it wasn’t until he was able to pin your arms against your chest that your eyes widened.

“Shhh.” Getting you to calm down a little, Eddie then peered around the tree, hoping he was covered enough to keep himself safe but exposed enough to where he could spot Cassidy. But just like you, he sees nothing. “Okay. When I say so, we’re going to head that way.” he nods to his right. “Try to keep low and stay close to me. Alright?” You nod against his hand and he finally peels it away from your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” you answer as quietly as you can, tears still falling from your eyes. “Dean.” you choke. “He…”

“He’s getting help.” Your eyes widen, your breathing becoming shaky again from the shock.

“He’s….”

“For now.” Hearing that, a sob slips from your lips and Eddie pulls you close, whispering ‘I know’ into your hair. “But we need to get you out of here, alright?” You nod frantically, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and get to Dean. “Alright…” he peeks around the tree once again, his eyes sharp before he pushes you a bit to get you moving.

Like Eddie, you keep an eye out still, looking for any movement and listening for any sound, but thankfully it seems to be clear for now. You followed his orders, keeping low and making sure he was right behind you the entire time. If anything, it brought you comfort to have him so close.

But for what happened next, it only reminded you of how much better at this Eddie was than you.

“Y/N!” His loud voice caused you to flinch forward, but the sound of a gun going off made you collapse onto the ground. You fell face first into the dirt and when the shock wore off, you frantically felt yourself up, wondering if you were shot.

Grateful that you didn’t feel anything, bullet hole or blood, you flipped over onto your back, keeping close to the ground since you knew now that Cassidy was close. You looked into the distance, still not seeing anything and it honestly pissed you off that he was this good. But it’s when you look to your feet, to where Eddie should be right behind you when your panic comes back.

“Eddie?” you cry out in a shaky voice, but he doesn’t move. “Eddie?” you call out again, just a little louder this time. When you hear a low moan you scramble to his side, not caring if you’re seen.

Once you’re over him, you see that he’s in pain and that’s when you look down to his chest. Blood was starting to soak into the side of his shirt telling you he was hit.

“Eddie.” you cry, trying to keep yourself together, but you just couldn’t do it. “Hang on, please? Please.” you melt a bit more, your hand pushing on his wound to help stop the bleeding.

“Well, well, well.” Hearing Cassidy makes you freeze, but you don’t move from your position. You refuse to let go of Eddie. “This wasn’t my plan but I guess it’ll have to do.” You finally look over your shoulder to see him standing over you both, the gun pointing in your direction. But you can tell by the angle that he’s pointing it at Eddie. A kill shot for sure, right to his head.

Taking Eddie’s hand, despite how weak he may feel, you place it on his wound and tell him to press down as much as he can and that’s when you turn around and block the bullet's path to its indicated victim. Cassidy of course gets that smug smirk and to your surprise, that’s when he shifts the barrel, the kill shot now intended for you.

“Seems my plan has already been fucked, so I guess there’s no reason to keep you around any longer.” he states as he gets a better grip on the gun. “Say hi to Dean for me.” Your entire body shakes, your fear of death front and center as he starts to pull the trigger back.

“Drop the gun, Cassidy!” 

“Drop it!” Multiple people start screaming at the man to drop his weapon and you take a second to look around. The three of you are surrounded by officers and you even spot Bobby in the crowd.

“Now, Cassidy! Drop it!” He clearly doesn’t want to follow orders, not that you expected him to. You figured that he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

You have no idea where it came from or why, but somehow in that moment, surrounded by all of Dean’s fellow officers, you got up the courage to stand up to Cassidy. Getting up from your knees, you stood right in front of him, holding your head high as you challenged him to shoot you without saying a word.

“Cassidy! Now! Drop the gun!”

“Drop it, Cassidy!”

“Drop it!”

While everyone around you yelled at him to surrender, you just kept your eyes locked with his, your gaze hard and unwavering. Then, as some more time passed without any movement on his part, you closed your eyes, practically giving yourself up to him.

You don’t know what had calmed you so much, but you were suddenly unafraid. You were expecting him to shoot and you were waiting to hear the echo of the shot before peace took you over. But all you kept hearing was the officers screaming at him to drop the gun.

For a brief second you could hear Eddie behind you, calling out for you to move. But before you could react to him, it happened.

The gun went off.

[captain-mj]

I love your writing 🥰🥰

ignore this if you don't like it but im thinking of graves trying hard to mend his relationship with 141 and it seems to be going well until he starts getting secretive again, and they start to think he's going to turn again, maybe even price is worried, only to discover he's actually helping his shadows, some of his boys who survived 🥺🥺

I got you!

~~~~

Price started to notice his team being skittish around Graves again. It wasn't the outward distrust before, more like they tried to avoid Graves being alone at all. Graves was getting annoyed, but clearly trying to hide that. At the very least, he seemed determined to grin and bear it. Price almost found it admirable. He knew he fucking couldn't.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Price woke up alone and Graves was in the bathroom. On the phone.

Price crept closer to hear him talking through the door.

"Listen, I'm trying. I promise." Graves was whispering, sounding upset. "Are you safe?"

The wood creaked softly and he realized Graves was pacing. His voice disappearing for a moment before coming back. Price frowned and tried to get closer.

Graves sighed softly. "I'll talk soon, okay? Stay safe guys."

Price moved backed, laying down and pretending to be asleep. He felt Graves slide back into bed with him. After a moment, Graves moved closer, putting his head on Price's chest with one arm slung over him. They sat there quietly a long time.

Price's brain went a mile a minute.

Was Graves working with someone else again?

He shouldn't have trusted him.

Graves lightly pressed his lips against Price’s chest. He squeezed him a little tighter before falling back to sleep. 

Price stayed close to him, but he knew very well that he couldn’t really prevent anything. He couldn’t do much but try to remind Graves how much happier he was with them. With him. 

Alejandro raised his concerns to him. “He keeps disappearing. Rudy caught him on the phone twice and he’ll hang up as soon as he gets close. I know you two are... close but...”

“I’m keeping an eye on it. Trust me.” 

Alejandro sighed. “So you noticed too huh? Not just me being paranoid...” He looked almost sad about it. 

“I’m hoping we’re all just paranoid.”

“For all of our sakes.”

For a while, Price thought it was behind them. Graves sought him out constantly and Ghost trailed him several times and he didn’t do anything suspicious. 

Price woke up to hear him on the phone again. 

Graves sounded sleepy, but he kept talking, reassuring whoever he was on the phone with. Price closed his eyes and sighed softly. He couldn’t keep doing this. If Graves was going to betray them, he wanted to know now. 

So he pulled himself out of bed, pulling on his sweatpants and waited. 

Graves froze when saw him up, phone still in hand. 

“It’s not what you think.”

“What is it then?”

Graves stared at him for a minute. “If half your team died, you’d do anything to protect the rest right?”

Price stared at him. “Phillip.”

“Don’t use that name right now.” Graves sounded hoarse. “John, I need you to promise you’ll hear me out.”

Price continued to stare for a moment before nodding. “Alright...”

“Couple of my shadows made it out. They holed up somewhere and I’ve been sending them money. Keeping them afloat. I promise I just... I can’t let them go back to the streets. A lot of them were like me. The company was all they had.”

Price bites back a scathing comment about that and nodded. “Alright. Where?”

Graves stared at him. “Price. I understand they’re criminals, but so am I. You can’t hurt them. They were barely involved in the events in Los Almas.” The desperation in his voice was something Price had never heard before. Graves had begged for forgiveness. Asked them not to kill him. But this was different. Price had heard it from his own mouth when Shepherd had told him his boys were MIA and to be killed on sight.

“I won’t.”

“And your team?”

“No one is going to hurt them.” Price promised, being sincere. “Where are they?”

“Motel near here. I’ve been trying to sneak away because you guys made that really hard.” Graves sounded petulant.

Price smiled. “Sorry. You could’ve told me.”

“You don’t trust me.” Graves said gently. “Not all the time. You may trust me with your life but you wouldn’t trust me with theirs. I couldn’t... I couldn’t risk. I let too many people down that night.”

Price nodded. “Alright. I’ll tell everyone to stop watching you all the time, okay?

“Thank you.”

“And maybe I could meet them sometime?”

“You could be step-dad Price.”

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 26: I’d do anything for you

This has without a doubt been the best night over your life Eddie bribed the dj for the night to play what he knows is your song Journey “foolish heart” starts to play he takes your hand & you both give each other a knowingly look “thank you Eds for.. for everything for being you for having me & for tonight I’ll never forget it that’s for sure” he smiles kissing you as you both sway to the beat of the song. The night is getting closer to the end & you all even had a large group dance you Eddie & all the boys. Heading back to the table for the night laughing and talking you all get some punch & sit to shoot the shit when you hear a voice from behind you “Well… well well what do we have here Hawkins own freak table gee I didn’t even think you guys would have the balls to even show your face here you do know nobody wants you here right” your face is on fire & your brain is going a mile a minute flashbacks of that horrible night you wouldn’t dare let Eddie experience that not if you can help it. You see Eddie jaw clenched at this boys words before Gareth speaks “Jason why don’t you just leave us the hell alone & quit being a dick all the fucking time!” Jason looks amused & a laugh rumbles from deep in his chest “ohh & what do we have here be careful gorgeous he they worship the devil & probably want to use you for a human sacrifice” you can’t take another word from this kid & you won’t dare let him ruin Eddie’s prom you jump up from your seat “Listen pencil dick I don’t know what your major malfunction is but if you don’t get the fuck away from us & this table i swear you’ll be sorry!!” Eddie is standing up to keep you from lunging at Jason has he looks at you eyes wide face beet red “You…! You fucking bitch!” Before you knew it your instincts took over your heel landing right between Jason’s legs kicking him in the groin & picking up the server tray from your tables food & smacking it over his head as hard as you could. “Eat shit asshole!!” The boys all stare in bewilderment gareth yells “holy shit!! I think we should get out of here GO GO GO GO!!!” Eddie snatched up your hand making a beeline for the door Steve & robin aren’t far behind all running like bats out of hell while Jason lays on the floor cupping himself in pain and Andy screaming “you fucking freaks!” You whip your head around just before reaching the door “kiss my ass trust fund baby!!” Jeff cackles as you all head to your vehicles robin seems very proud “That was so awesome he so deserved that!” Gareth agrees “It was a long time coming you fucking rule Watts!!” Eddie pulling you into a hug “you’re absolutely insane nobody’s ever done that for any of us before I think I’m fully head over heels in love with this girl!” He points at you Steve shakes his head amused “we better get the hell out of here before they all come barreling out here for payback” you all hop in your ride for the night while the hellfire boys pile into Jeff’s dads van they pull up to your ride honking with all the windows down gareth hanging out the window “HEY JAMIE!!! WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!!” You beam with pride now knowing family isn’t always blood but the people who are in your life right now you want in your life forever. Eddie’s words earlier replaying in your head until you’re snapped out of your thoughts “hey princess I’m gonna drop these two off first do you want me to take you to yours or..?” You know for sure what you want out of all this but not sure how or when to go about what you’re thinking & feeling so for the second you’re just living in the moment “uhhh.. well it’s a weekend so you don’t have anything to do tomorrow right or are you busy if you are it’s totally fine” as you play with your bracelet not making any eye contact. “I’m not busy at all tomorrow… hey.. hey look at me” you slowly lift your head “whatever you wanna do I’m okay with” he holds your hand the remainder of the ride dropping off Steve & robin & heading to your place. Pulling into the driveway your trying to build up the courage “So.. I-I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay tonight… with me??..”

[kirk-says-wah]

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐲 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟐

You can also read it here

Pairings: Kirk/Lars, James/Lars, James/Jason

TW: guns, violence, blood, fire, panic attacks

Lars’ heart is beating a mile a minute, and he can hardly think, his brain still muddled, and he snaps his eyes to James’.

“Shit,” James says, his hands still warm on Lars’ arms. They need to get out of here before Virgil finds them going through his stuff.

James hesitantly lets go of Lars to pack up the contents of the box, and Lars watches, held up by the wall, desperately trying to catch his breath. He sees James pocket some things before shoving the box back in the cupboard along with the files.

“Cmon,” James says, grabbing his hand. Lars can feel the calluses on his fingers press into his knuckles, and he lets himself be dragged out, hiccuping as he wills his feet to cooperate.

Jesus, he’s not felt this strung out since he was younger, and the impending doom crushes his windpipe. James is running, and Lars is trying hard to keep up, especially when they start to hear keys in the front door.

“Hurry up,” James barks, but instead of looking for an exit, Lars finds himself being pulled up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” he asks, teeth chattering, the back of his neck sweaty.

“Just trust me,” James says before pulling him into a bedroom. It’s nice, with posters of rockstars on the walls, but Lars has no time to admire before he’s being pushed into a closet.

“Just-… stay in there. Be quiet,” James says, waiting until Lars nods before he grabs a backpack from beside him and shuts the door.

Lars crouches down, manages to see enough through the crack in the door. James starts rummaging around in his drawers, making it look like he’s packing.

The sound of boots on stairs has Lars’ breath halting, and he scrunches his fingers into the wall by his head.

James looks back over his shoulder for a second, probably making sure Lars can’t be seen, before his eyes snap to the bedroom door.

“I thought I heard you running around.”

Virgil’s voice is rough, intimidating, and Lars shrinks, watching as James continues to pack.

“I’m moving out,” James says, stuffing some clothes into his backpack.

Lars can’t see Virgil, he can just about make out the tips of his boots, but his presence has him quaking nonetheless. Fuck, he really hopes he doesn’t get caught. His finger throbs but he ignores it.

“Oh yeah?” Virgil sneers. “Where to?”

“None of your business,” James gruffs.

“So, I take it your moving in with Lars?”

James doesn’t answer, and Virgil huffs a small laugh.

“Well I’m glad you listened to me. Jason isn’t worth your time.”

James jaw grinds but he stays silent, obviously infuriated by Virgil’s words but not willing to risk anything when Lars is hiding right there.

Lars’ nose is running and he wipes it with the back of his hand, not daring to sniff and give himself away.

“You don’t want to talk to me? That’s fine. I’m going downstairs,” Virgil says, his footsteps fading away before they suddenly stop.

“Lars is a nice person, James. I think you can make each other happy.”

James eyes dart down, his cheeks reddening slightly before Virgil leaves.

Lars lets out a breath, swaying slightly, eyelashes sticky, and a few minutes go by until finally the closet door is opened.

James helps Lars to his feet, his touch lingering, and he searches Lars’ eyes, tries to see if he’s okay.

Lars feels a little less on edge now, but he still has to wipe at his eyes, gathering wetness on his fingers.

A beat passes before James finally turns, his hands leaving Lars, and instead zips up his backpack.

“Stay here,” he says, heading for the door. “I’ll make sure my dad’s in his office, then you can come down, okay”?

Lars nods, not trusting his voice, and James looks out of the door before beckoning Lars to follow.

They make it onto the landing before James holds his hand up, and Lars stays still as James quietly walks down the stairs.

He gets about half way before he signals for Lars to follow, and Lars hurries, tiptoeing down the stairs until they’re finally at the front door.

James ushers him through, and the fresh air surges through Lars’ lungs, the wind biting at his sensitive cheeks, but then James’ hand is circling his wrist and he’s being pulled across the street.

The car has moved further up the street, out of the way, and Lars guesses Kirk must have driven it, even on his broken toe.

Though, as they approach, the car looks empty, and panic burns at the back of Lars’ throat. Did they notice Kirk? Did they take him?

He doesn’t want to think the worst has happened, but he’s having a pretty bad day already, and his mind just zooms straight to the worst possible outcome.

James’ hand tightens around his wrist.

Lars can’t breathe.

But as soon as his hand reaches around the door handle, Kirk pops up from the driver’s seat, gesturing for them both to get into the back as he turns the car on. Lars doesn’t have to be told twice. He quickly helps James in before sliding in after him, and Kirk quickly pulls out.

“What? What’s going on?” Kirk asks, a little frantic, eyeing Lars in the mirror “What’s wrong with your face?”

Lars sniffs, looks out of the window. Can feel two pairs of eye on him and it’s making his skin crawl.

“S’nothing,” he mumbles.

“Have you been crying?” Kirk asks, his driving a little erratic as they speed through the streets. “James, what did you do?”

James blanches, pulling a face.

“Why are you blaming me?”

Kirk squints but doesn’t say anything more, and Lars is glad of it. He just wants to go back to James’ and sleep. He doesn’t want to do this anymore.

They ride in silence, but Kirk is a pretty quick driver, so it’s not long before they’re back at James’ house.

Lars grabs the keys off James and is out the car before it even stops, letting himself in before collapsing on the sofa.

For a moment he feels bad for not helping James get out, but he knows he’s a big boy and can get out himself.

He leans forwards, elbows on his knees and he has his head in his hands.

All he can think about is the pictures, especially the one of himself. Why did Virgil have that? Why did it make him feel like he’s forgetting something?

Hands smooth over his back before he’s being pulled forwards, and Lars goes willingly, mashing his face into a solid chest, hands grappling at their shirt.

Kirk shushes him, petting his hair lightly, pressing a kiss to his crown, and Lars tries his best not to cry. He can’t break down. It’s just that everything is getting to him, and he just wishes everything was easier.

“It’s okay,” Kirk says softly, rubbing at his back, and Lars sniffs, eyes closed as he just lets himself sink in Kirk’s arms. He feels safe, loved, and he finds he’s really missed just being held, when it feels like just him and Kirk.

He blinks his eyes open, finds James sat across from them in the arm chair, though his eyes are on the ground, his chin resting on his palm.

“What happened?” Kirk asks after a moment.

Lars doesn’t know how to answer, his tongue feeling thick and stupid, but he watches as James pulls out some photos from his pocket.

He splays them on the coffee table, and Kirk leans forwards, still keeping Lars close.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers through Lars’ hair. James only managed to grab a few pictures; the one of Dave, Virgil and James’ mom, the one with the other woman too on Dave’s lap, and the one of the three men stood together with a fourth unknown man.

“What does this mean?”

“It means we need to start digging,” James says before reaching into his pocket, pulling out another photo before handing it to Kirk.

“We found this too.”

Lars doesn’t have to see to know it’s the picture of him, he can see the fear on Kirk’s face.

“I don’t understand,” he says, putting the photo down. “He was following you?”

He’s looking at Lars now, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed, and Lars shudders, pulls away.

“I don’t know,” he says, quiet. “I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can hardly remember anything that happened when I was that age.”

Kirk swallows, his hand drawing patterns along Lars’ back.

“Why don’t you know anything about it?” Kirk says, shooting his question at James.

James just shrugs.

“Me and Lars hadn’t even met until the engagement was announced. How was I gonna know my dad was tailing him?”

Lars has so many questions and no answers, his head feeling full and the pain in his finger making him feel sick.

Lars hunches over, wipes a hand over his face, feeling drained.

“Maybe you should go and lie down,” Kirk murmurs, smoothing a hand over Lars’ head.

Lars looks up, glances between Kirk and James.

“We’re not going anywhere right now,” Kirk says, and Lars looks to James who sighs but nods.

Good. They need to rest. They’ve been none stop since the wedding.

“Okay,” he says finally, easing himself into his feet.

“We’ll talk about this when you wake up,” James reassures, but he’s got an odd look on his face. Lars decides not to read too much into it. He just hopes the other two get some rest as well. They definitely need it.

He gives them both a small smile before staggering up the stairs, using the handrail for support before finding one of the bedrooms.

He closes the door behind him, toeing off his shoes before crawling under the sheets. He turns over, finds a picture on the side.

It’s of James’ mother.

She’s sat with James on her lap, her smile wide, and James looks happy too.

It pulls at Lars’ heart to know that James was happy once, and look at him now. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about him. James doesn’t exactly act very rationally, and he wonders if it’s because he’s just not having a good time, especially now that Jason isn’t around.

Lars sighs, feeling a little hollow, and pulls the covers up to his chin, closing his eyes.