#can barely reckonize him myself without his glasses

[sigmaelxgr]

Therrrre he is!

[angelofsmalldeaath]

in the woods somewhere — a.h.b.

cw: being sick, fevers

“go away, you’re not supposed to be in here,” i groan from under the mountain of blankets, struggling to fully breathe. 

the room is somehow boiling hot and freezing cold at the same time. i take a peek and his frowning face, and shut my eyes again. 

“you were calling my name,” his voice floats in on the breeze, garbled as if i’m under water and he’s trying to reach me. “you sounded quite weak and pathetic if i’m being honest—”

“oi!”

“—scared me a bit.”

i sigh into the pillow and grimace when a sweat-soaked tissue touches my nose. i shouldn’t be this disgusted by it. every inch of my skin feels the same—sweat-soaked and grimy and icky. 

a moment later, a cold hand touches my forehead. then i hear a wince. 

“oh, you’re not doing so well are you?”

“miserable. but you should go. i’ll be just fine—” and then, just to drive home the point, my body breaks into a coughing fit. 

the cold hand moves to my back, stroking down my spine until i can finally catch a breath, get some air in my lungs. it burns, of course. it burns like i’ve swallowed the river styx. 

“quit being so stubborn, will you? don’t make me wrestle you into being a good patient.”

“oooh kinky,” i tease, my voice hoarse and barely even audible. another coughing fit threatens to take over me but he holds a glass of water in front of me before that can happen. 

i take one look at his unimpressed face and take the glass dutifully. 

“i don’t remember calling your name.” i set the glass aside and try to prop myself up. he immediately moves to prop up a few pillows behind me. 

“well you would if your brain wasn't so fever addled. i reckon it’s melting. because you refuse to listen to me.”

“i’ve listened to you all day!”

“and did you eat when i brought you that bowl of soup in bed or did you make a face?”

“right,” i pout, pull out the last arrow from my arsenal, “are we really gonna do this when i’m on my death bed?”

a laugh tumbles out of him, surprising us both. he presses a hand over his mouth to stop it, pretends to run a hand through his beard to cover it up. “oh now you’re too sick, are you? i thought you were ‘just fine’.”

“schrödinger’s sickness,” i shrug and silently celebrate when he has to fight another smile.

“alright, how about we make a deal,” he says and extends his hand towards me, all business-like and serious. “you have some of that soup, let me help you with a quick shower, and then i’ll stay away from you. you won’t get me sick.”

“if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” i giggle behind my hands like a child. maybe he's right, maybe the delirium's really getting to me.

he huffs, close to defeated. “you’re impossible. why won’t you let me baby you, hmm? is it really so bad to lean on someone else?”

“okay,” i hold my hands up weakly, defensively, “fine. deal.” and even though his peeved expression is highly entertaining, i keep my laugh to myself. “how could i ever say no to you?”

“you have,” he points out, “multiple times, if i may add! and quit flirting. it’s time to let me do my job.”

“and what job is that?”

“nursing you back to health. making sure you don’t waste away like you so obviously want to.”

“and will you be by my bedside in a slutty nurse costume?” i snort, “you have the legs for it.”

rapidly, he mutters the words “delirious” and “impossible” among others under his breath but i don’t miss the way his face splits into a smile. how he shakes his head. especially not the fondness in his eyes when he pulls the blankets off me and holds my shivering body closer. 

without hesitating, i curl into him, into the crook of his neck, trying to fit myself into any cavities of his body that will have me. anything for his warmth. 

“i’m going to give you so much grief the next time i’m sick,” he declares, then picks me up into his arms. 

i kiss the exposed part of his neck, resting my head in the crook. “is that a threat, sweet boy? because i know how much you love being babied—”

“shush, aren’t you supposed to have a sore throat?”

i hum noncommittally.

a moment later he sets me down on the lid of the toilet, and flits around the bathroom gathering things. i watch him—i watch the crease between his brows and the stray hair falling out of his bun. i watch where his t-shirt slides off his shoulder to expose a collarbone and the was he licks his lips when he’s thinking. 

and when my sweat-soaked skin breaks out into goosebumps once more, i know it’s not the fever. 

[lilac-den]

can we have a little ✨spíce✨ with maverick doting mc while they're placed on his knees? and he just can't help but tease them since mc is all shy and gentle? (I reckon I'll miss all TSR ROs, but nah, I'm all weak for cool guy🤣🤣🤣

A little snippet of Maverick x Shy!MC

I can't stop my heart from beating so much.

It started yesterday, when Sylphina and I decided to visit the Whisht estate after receiving an invitation. It started raining quite late in the evening, so Sylphina and I ended up sleeping over for the night. After waking up and having breakfast, one of the servants quietly asked me if I could see their master, Maverick, for 'something of utmost importance'.

I had expected Maverick wanting to discuss about the Princess. Or Sylphina. Or even advise me about my etiquette training that I had been doing so slowly on.

But none of what I imagine came as I feel my cheeks heat up at the hand that rests on my lower back.

"Are you alright, Wanderer?"

The question was asked in such a casual tone, it almost baffles me on how this stone-faced prick had the gall to ask me such.

How? How can I be alright when I'm sitting on your lap, you dummy?!

"I'm...fine." I barely muster out the second word, hoping I didn't sound too breathy. The hum that escapes Maverick sends a tremor along my body. That tremor grows even more after Maverick grips the hand on my lower back onto one of my hips, pulling me close to his body.

I bit my lower lip and feel fire lick within my belly. Fuck.

"Do let me know if you feel too much discomfort," he says, his quill waving about in movement of his handwriting.

I barely give a nod, my toes curling and uncurling in an attempt to settle down the glee within me for being this close to him. To feel him hold me.

I mentally smack myself. Stop it. He's not holding me. This is...just...

What was it that Maverick needed me for?

When the servant told me Maverick needed me for something important, I rushed my way over here without running (harder than it looked but the servants either didn't notice or ignored it). I only got the question "What's the matter?" out of my mouth before Maverick gestures me to come closer.

And before I knew it, here I am - sitting on Maverick's lap very intimately.

I glance over to his face and take note of the features. Glacial blue eyes focus on his work, white bangs barely reaching above his eyes. His lips are a line, serious and straight. Even his glasses are perfectly perched on the bridge of his nose, settled and fitting to his diligent appearance.

Then I see his eyes widen and they turn to me. It took me a hot second for me to realize my hand is on one of his cheeks, something I retract quickly as if I touched fire itself.

"S-Sorry!" I swallow, the touch of his skin still embedded against my fingers. "You just...you..." The attempt to bring up a reason dies on my tongue.

But Maverick, with a curious gleam in his eyes that I'm far too familiar with, tells me, "you are welcome to reciprocate."

A skip occurs inside me. "What?"

Maverick puts his quill down and leans back against his chair, providing me more room. "You are welcome to touch me."

I was so ready to laugh it off, to take this as him making a joke. But two factors stop me.

One: Maverick doesn't joke easily. Sure, he has his quips and jabs with the occasional sass, but he wouldn't joke about intimacy, consent or anything of that order.

And two...I have fought too long to not tell when there's an opening. And right now, sitting on his lap, Maverick has his guard down almost entirely. A part of me begins to itch and after so many years, I give in.

"Please excuse me."

My words barely come out in a whisper to my ears, but Maverick nods with understanding. I reach up for one of his cheeks, hesitating when my fingertips are just centimetres away. My heartbeats are loud and pumping with vigor, forcing me to hear and feel just how nervous I am.

I touch his porcelain skin. Then I cup his cheek.

His face is warm under my touch. I watch him close his eyes and sigh, something in the mix of relief and ease. I move my other hand to cup his other cheek, examining him up close.

His eyes, while shut, display a bit of dark circles underneath as signs of having less sleep than one should. His snow white hair shines under the soft sunlight behind him through the window. His lips are parted, full and a soft pink shade.

I brush my thumb gently along his cheek. Reacting, he leans into the palm of my hand and relishes in my touch. Something lodges in my throat in that moment.

When was it?

When was the last time I saw Maverick like this?

He opens his eyes and my eyes sting.

They're vibrant and blue, sparked with intelligence and watching me with its gaze.

Something I prayed so hard for, the last time I saw those beautiful eyes close. When I only had them in my dreams and hallucinations in my previous life since the incident.

"Wanderer?"

And in that word, cold water splashes onto my trance.

I let him go and scramble to leave his lap. "I'm sorry, my lord. I..." I brush down my clothes and perform a bow/curtsy "Sylphina is calling."

Maverick frowns and moves to stand. "But Wanderer-"

It was a poor excuse. Even just hearing Maverick's 'but' is enough of an indication that he doesn't believe my lie. But I have to get out of here and build a bit of distance before I do something foolish.

So I run. I run out of the office, down the hall and let my blood pump with adrenaline.

But my heart continues to rattle and beat against my chest, even as tears fill my eyes.

They fall the moment I allow myself to imagine, just a little bit, that his eyes called my name with the familiarity of the past.

Something that is no longer there.

[dr-abitat-blog]

Day 11: "Why would you even say that?! (Truth Serum)

@ailesswhumptober

T/W: Captured, Interrogation, Truth serum, Pain, Ladywhump, referenced incarceration camps

"Any luck?"

I barely hear the gruff voice of Leader over the persistent ringing in my ears. Rough gravel digs into my cheeks painfully. The world lurches violently as I attempt to sit up, gasping in pain.

"Nothing so far. She's a tough nut to crack."

"Every nut has their weakness," he murmurs darkly. "Get her up."

I cough. Beads of red soak into my lips. The fresh gash from the metal studs in his glove stings in the open air. The blow was hard enough to send my glasses clean off my face. A sharp crack reveals their location — crushed underneath Leader’s heavy booted foot. As I attempt to pull myself back to my knees, hands rip at my hair.

"Up!"

I yelp as I'm roughly dragged upwards. My feet scuffle against the dusty ground, trying to twist my head around despite the cruel grip on my dark wavy strands. Everything around me is an indiscernible blur without my glasses. 

Nngh, I can barely see anything—

"You're still not willing to talk?" he asks, voice deep and husky, "Not one word?"

I give him his answer with a silent glare of defiance. The other guards flank me on either side, each locking my upper arms in a tight grip. Sturdy power-suppressing cuffs keep my wrists chained behind my back. Cuffs that I'm all too familiar with...

Keep quiet, Cass. You're not going to give them anything.

"...heh. Fine. If that's how you want to play. I reckon you'll be changing your mind in about...ten seconds."

Nothing you do could make me talk… I vow fiercely.

Still, I brace myself, both body and mind for whatever 'persuasion' he has to offer. The only way I can keep calm right now is to imagine written scenarios playing out in my head — all of which end in me kicking them where the sun won't shine. My vivid descriptions are soon cut short by another painfully sharp tug on my hair. 

"Open her mouth."

My heart flutters in dread.

“W-wait—no don't you d—aggh!”

I jerk my head insistently as the hands grab at my face. The ugly one on my left wrenches my jaw open, the second squeezing my cheeks firmly as Leader approaches me. I get a flash of his hand pulling something from his jacket — a tiny capped vial of colorless liquid. Silently, he steps over and unscrews the cap. "The less you struggle, the easier it will be."

"Nnngh!"

I attempt to growl at him, pulling and twisting my head as he starts to tip the contents of the bottle forcibly into my mouth. In a last ditch attempt to avoid it I work up a mouthful of saliva and spit at him. Perhaps that is what prompts them to immediately plug my nose. I choke frantically, struggling to breathe as they keep my nostrils tightly pinched shut.

"That's it. Down the hatch — swallow."

I fight it. I fight it with everything I have — but the instinctive demand for air is stronger. Eventually it goes down my throat. Every bit of his 'offering'. The other two step back, letting my body drop to the floor between them. The dirt stains my torn black jeans as I start to writhe on the ground, coughing. "Good. Now we might finally get somewhere."

Leader crouches down next to me, slowly lifting up my chin with his gloved hand. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? What is your name?"

"Nngh..."

I stare up at him with gritted teeth, flexing my fingers behind my back. I begin to respond with the most stupid name in existence because no way am I telling them my real—

"Cassandra."

Wh-what?!

"...Cassandra?"

"...C-Cassandra Reed...Ghadavri..." I continue, suddenly realising what I'm telling him.

B-but—no! No, I-I didn't mean to—Cass, what are you—w-why would you even say that?!

"Tell us, Cassandra, do you happen to go by any other names? Any...illegal aliases?"

I feel my eyes slowly widening. The words bubble up through my throat. I have a horrible feeling that it's to do with whatever stuff he just forced down it

No — fight it, FIGHT IT!

I try to. I honestly try to. I even resort to biting on my tongue but then — the pain hits.

"I-I— no—nngha!"

I choke, lurching forward. Electrifying spasms shoot across my body, burning my nerves. Fire radiates in my chest. My forehead pounds. I find myself uselessly writhing in a desperate effort to avoid the pain. My tongue bleeds as I harshly bite down on it, shuddering on the ground.

"The more you fight the truth, the more it will hurt," he declares callously, watching my whimpering form without mercy. "Definitely less messy than a traditional interrogation, wouldn't you say?"

"Hnnk! S-stop—nngh— K-Kin—et—ica...!"

The name is dragged from my lips with a small sob. "K-Kinetica...former...side...kick..."

The words are an effort to get out seamlessly through my gasps of pain, but it's enough to satisfy them.

"Sidekick? So you're a 'sigma'?"

"Nngh...y-yes..."

"And your powers? What are they?"

I cough, shivering from the prickles raging all over my skin like little needles. 

"I-I...t-tele...kinesis..."

My captors murmur together quietly in response. I barely catch what they're saying. Not until Leader reaches out to pat my head. 

"I see — and what were you doing out here on your own?”

He suddenly yanks on my hair with a growl. “Spying on us for them, were you?"

"Gnngh...them? Who—"

"Who else could I possibly mean?" he snaps impatiently. "The Pheno Group —  the Government — well, were you?!"

I blink at them tearily, shaking my head desperately. 

"N-no...I-I don't...work for them. W-we were just...trying to find shelter from—"

“‘We’?”

A guilty sob escapes me.

N-no—

"Who else was with you? Give us their names."

When I don't answer immediately, he uncorks the vial again, bringing it to my lips. "Alright. Looks like you need another dose already."

“N-no!” 

I cry out in panic, trying to shuffle away, but they pin me in place long enough for him to pour the rest of the liquid down my throat. I gag on it pathetically, coughing and spluttering until the waves of  agony return. It's enough to knock me onto my side, curling my legs into my stomach to protect myself. My strained shrieks of pain soon morph into helpless sobs as nothing takes the torturous sensations away. Nothing...except the truth.

"Nngh—E-Ec—lipse—" I grind out, tears spilling down my cut cheeks, "B-Bore—alis...P-Phoe—nix—nngha..."

One of them scribbles the names down frantically as I squeeze my eyes closed. "W-we're all...trying to fight them. Th-they took our friends...we had no choice but to…t-to run or we'd...p-please...don't hurt them..."

Another wavering cry of pain. Leader's expression is difficult to read.

"So...you're fugitives then? And they're after you?"

I merely nod my head in response, unable to meet his gaze. Silence falls between us. After a few moments, he speaks up again. "...good girl."

He folds his arms across his chest. "Thanks for being so honest, Cassandra. No further questions for now. Just keep telling us the truth and that serum won't come back to bite you. Easy, right?"

"Gnngh..."

Forcing my eyes open, I stare at their blurry forms, ignoring the tears trailing down my face. "S-so...what now? Y-you call the Dog Catchers to take us to the camps?"

"No. Not planning on it."

Even in my current state, his answer takes me aback.

Wh-what did he just—

"They'd just come and arrest us all anyway, so no. You won’t be going to the camps yet. Instead, you’ll be staying right here whilst we go and round up your little friends — all we gotta do is plug their names into the database and we'll find them soon enough."

I grit my teeth weakly. I try to drag myself up again, but my body just flops against the ground uselessly. All I can manage is a helpless shake of my head. 

"D-don't hurt them..."

"That entirely depends on how cooperative you all are. On our turf, you play by our rules. If you don't — things get messy."

He turns on his heel. "Keep the cuffs on her, just in case. I'll go and inform Mother. She'll want to know about our latest catches."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Rest up, Cassandra."

Nodding gruffly, he sweeps out of the tented area, glancing over his shoulder at my sprawled shaking form in the dirt. "Welcome to Tartarus."

[helluvasweetheart]

“You only feel it when its lost, getting through still has a cost”

-Who we are, Hozier

TW: allusions to cursing?, drinking, a man being a man?

MDNI

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I kick the fence post with a frustrated grunt. “Son of a—”

A deep voice interrupts. “Need a hand with that, sweetheart?”

I spin around to see Jimmy Shaw leaning against a nearby fence rail, his trademark smirk plastered across his face. “Jimmy Shaw, what are you doing on my property?” I snap, planting my hands on my hips.

“Well, Ophelia, half the town could hear you cursing at that poor fence. Figured I’d drop by and offer a man’s touch.” He winks, and I glare back, my jaw tightening.

Jimmy’s grin widens, but I stay rooted where I am, refusing to give him the satisfaction of backing down. “If I needed help,” I say sharply, “I wouldn’t be looking for it from the likes of you.”

He chuckles, low and amused. “Come now, Ophelia. I ain’t here to make trouble.” His gaze flicks over the crooked fence, then back to me. “But that post ain’t gonna stand straight if you keep kicking it.”

“Thank you for the advice,” I retort, “but I can manage just fine without you.” I turn my back on him and reach for the hammer resting on the ground, my fingers curling around the handle with determination. I hear his boots crunching on the dirt behind me, coming closer.

“Seems to me like you’re making it harder than it needs to be,” he says, his voice suddenly softer. “It ain’t a crime to let someone give you a hand.”

I pause, the hammer halfway to the nail. The truth is, I am struggling. This farm has been a fight from the start, and each day feels like a new battle I’m barely winning. But I won’t let him see that. I won’t let anyone see that.

“I said I don’t need your help, Jimmy.” I straighten up and turn to face him again. “And I certainly don’t need you thinking you can just walk onto my land like you own the place.”

He tilts his head, his smile fading just a bit. “I’m just trying to be neighborly, Ophelia. If you’re too proud to take it, that’s your choice.” He steps back, tipping his hat. “But that pride won’t keep a roof over your head when winter comes.”

His words sting more than I care to admit, but I hold my ground as he retreats down the dirt road. When he finally disappears from sight, I exhale, the weight of the farm settling back on my shoulders. I glance at the crooked post, then at the farmhouse behind me—both stubbornly leaning, just like me.

“I can do this,” I whisper to myself, lifting the hammer again. “I have to.”

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By the time the sun dips below the horizon, the air has cooled and the sky is awash in dusky blues and purples. I wipe the sweat from my brow and let the hammer fall to the ground, the fence still no straighter than it was that morning. A sigh escapes me. The farm can wait. Right now, I need a stiff drink and a break from the weight pressing down on my shoulders.

I saddle my horse and ride into town, the dim lights of the saloon flickering in the distance like a beacon. It’s already lively inside when I push through the doors, the air thick with smoke and the smell of spilled whiskey. The hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter drown out the quiet doubts still lingering in my mind.

I make my way to the bar and lean against the counter. “Whiskey, Charlie,” I call to the bartender.

He nods and pours me a generous shot, sliding the glass toward me. “Rough day, Miss Flores?”

I take the drink in one swift motion, letting the burn settle deep in my chest before answering. “Just another day,” I mutter. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“’Course,” he replies with a knowing smile. “But that farm’s gotta be a helluva lot of work for just one woman.”

I bristle slightly, but before I can shoot back a retort, a familiar voice cuts in from a nearby table. “Reckon she’s got more fight in her than most men around here, Charlie.”

I turn to find Jimmy Shaw sitting with a couple of his friends, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of them. He’s leaning back in his chair, his hat tipped at a casual angle. The moment our eyes meet, his mouth quirks up into that same infuriating grin.

Ignoring the sudden heat in my cheeks, I set the empty glass down with a thud. “If you’re finished running your mouth, Jimmy, maybe you ought to head home before you end up on the wrong side of trouble,” I say, raising my voice just enough for his friends to hear. A few of them chuckle, and Jimmy’s grin only widens.

He stands up and crosses the room, his boots echoing on the wooden floor. “Trouble, huh?” he says, stopping just a step away from me. “You sound like you might be spoiling for it.”

I don’t back down, meeting his gaze with a steady glare. “Or maybe I’m just tired of listening to a man who thinks he can solve every problem with a little charm and a lot of whiskey.”

Jimmy laughs, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought plenty of both,” he replies, reaching for the bottle on the bar and pouring me another drink. “But if you’d rather sulk in the corner all night, that’s up to you.”

I hesitate, my pride warring with my exhaustion. The whiskey glistens in the dim light, and for a moment, it feels like giving in. But then again, maybe a drink is exactly what I need to forget about the crooked fence, the empty fields, and all the things I can’t seem to fix. I snatch the glass from his hand, my fingers brushing his for the briefest second.

“Fine,” I say, lifting the glass to my lips. “But don’t think this means I’m taking your help.”

As the whiskey settles in my chest, warming me from the inside out, the saloon doors creak open. The conversations around us quiet for a moment, and I glance over my shoulder to see who’s arrived.

A woman stands in the doorway, framed by the dim light spilling in from the street. Her dark hair cascades down her back in loose waves, and a fringed shawl drapes over her shoulders. She steps inside with a confident grace, her eyes scanning the room like she’s taking its measure. There’s an effortless beauty about her—something striking and unfamiliar.

She catches me staring and, to my surprise, offers a small smile before making her way to the bar. Charlie, the bartender, immediately pours her a drink, his usually gruff expression softening as he speaks to her in Spanish. She replies in the same tongue, her voice smooth and melodic.

When she lifts her glass, she meets my eyes again. “Salud,” she says, tipping her drink in my direction.

I nod, raising my glass back. “Salud,” I echo, though my Spanish isn’t nearly as elegant.

The stranger’s lips curl into a smile, and she steps closer, her skirts whispering against the floorboards. “I’m Athena,Athena Cabral” she says, her gaze flicking between me and Jimmy with a curious glint. “Just passing through. I couldn’t resist stopping for a drink.”

“Well, Athena, you’ve picked a good night to walk in,” Jimmy says, leaning against the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m Jimmy Shaw, and this lovely lady here is—”

“I can introduce myself,” I cut in, not keen on Jimmy speaking for me. “Ophelia Flores.” I extend my hand, meeting Athena’s gaze directly.

She takes my hand with a gentle firmness. “It’s a pleasure, Ophelia. I’m just looking for a place to stay while I’m in town. Any recommendations?”

I hesitate, glancing over at Jimmy, who’s smirking. “You could try the inn,” I say, but I can’t help the slight edge in my voice. “Though it might not be the safest option. It’s run by Jimmy’s parents.”

Athena raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that so? What’s wrong with the inn?”

I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. “Let’s just say they have a reputation for being… unwelcoming to newcomers.”

“Is that true, Jimmy?” Athena asks, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He shrugs, still grinning. “My folks are just traditional is all. They don’t take too kindly to strangers.”

Athena crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Sounds a bit unfair. It’s not like we’re all out to cause trouble.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind causing a little trouble,” Jimmy says with a wink. “Especially if it involves a pretty face like yours.”

I roll my eyes, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Don’t mind him, Athena. He thinks he’s charming, but he’s really just a pain.”

Athena laughs, and there’s something so genuine about it that I can’t help but smile. “I’m sure there’s more to you than that, Jimmy.”

“Of course there is,” he replies with a wink, leaning closer to Athena. “I’m also incredibly helpful. You need a place to stay, right? I’m sure I could convince my parents to give you a special rate.”

“More like a special lecture,” I interject, crossing my arms. “You’d be better off sleeping in a barn than in that inn.”

Athena looks thoughtful, then glances between us. “You know, I’d be perfectly fine with a barn. At least it’s quiet.”

I nod, feeling a surge of unexpected camaraderie. “My barn is empty, and it’s a lot safer than the inn. You’d be welcome to stay there until you find something better.”

She smiles, and there’s a warmth in her eyes that makes me feel lighter. “That’s incredibly kind of you, Ophelia. I’d appreciate it.”

“Just don’t think it means I’m taking any help,” I say, attempting to sound firm but feeling my resolve soften.

Athena tilts her head, clearly amused. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I can hold my own, but I also know a good opportunity when I see one.”

Jimmy’s expression shifts, and he looks genuinely impressed. “You two seem to be hitting it off. I guess I should have expected that.”

“Let’s not make it a habit,” I say, my voice teasing but firm. “Besides, I have enough on my plate without adding any more drama.”

“Drama? Who said anything about drama?” Athena replies with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I think we could use a little excitement around here, don’t you think?”

The tension in the air lightens, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling a flicker of hope in the warmth of her presence. Maybe tonight won’t just be about escaping my troubles after all. As the night unfolds, I can’t shake the feeling that Athena Cabral might just be the spark I need to reignite that hope.

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Here is the second part! I hope someone, somewhere in some dark corner of tumblr finds this and enjoys it :)

Ophelia and Athena have a meet cute?

[caliburn-the-sword]

finished reading scarlet; last thoughts and reactions and ponderings

was about to be like "ew wtf did not want r*pe in MY y/a book" AND THEN HE SLIPPED HER AN I.D. TO ESCAPE

thorne is SO real for only being concerned about his jacket despite human bites being very dangerous lol

why are these werewolves acting like vamps

it's kind of nice how cool thorne is with lunars with all the lunar hate there is - i remember when reading cinder being apalled about how she generalised them all as corrupt

YES SCARLET KNOWS SHE KNOWS NOW

NO NOT GRANNY I'M LITERALLY IN STUDY PERIOD RN I CAN'T CRY (note: i managed not to cry in study period but god my eyes burned for a while lmao)

tf i thought wolf was just being possessive in like a protective way against ran and not just a plain old possessive way. he's honestly making me nervous rn like goodness i can literally feel scarlet's fear rn. STOP WITH YOUR I CAN FIX HIM DISEASE AND RUN (note: okay he got brain fucky wucky by mind control so this isn't him)

HOLY SHIT THEY'RE ALL FINALLY MEETING I'M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

i think kai is going delulu. i bet his office isn't bugged and he's got a spy. literally since cinder my money has been on torin. but maybe huy

omg kai's recognition of cinder's sacrifice by going to the ball <3

gotta agree with everything cinder's saying about kai's marriage because it's everything i've been thinking since kai decided to marry levana. i wish he would see how it's a bandaid for a stab wound. he's barely fixing a short term problem, which is gonna have the same long term problem regardless

the girls (all current pov characters) ARE FIGHTING. not mad tho because i'm a messy bitch who lives for drama <3

"She'd had the bridge built for herself out of very special glass, so that she could watch (...) all without being observed herself" levana YOU MEAN A TWO WAY MIRROR??? don't go acting all superior you're not special

from what wolf has described of his Tragic Backstory there is NO way he ISN'T a virgin. i'm so sorry that was my only takeaway but i'm trying to distract myself

"We met less than a week ago and in that time I've done nothing but lie and cheat and betray you" FKSDHFSDK sounds JUST like ouat rumpelstiltskin and yet he's STILL healthier than him and not toxic LMAO

wait did wolf need to pretend betray scarlet without her knowing instead of just making THAT the plan because those supersoldiers can smell hormones?? i bet they can. i reckon he needed her to feel REAL fear (note: now that i think about it it's probably just the bioelectricity crap but also ONLY the thaumaturge would be able to detect that???)

if i keep having to read "alpha female" with my own two eyes, i'm going to need bleach. marissa meyer you owe me financial compensation for the psychological distress i've been caused. 3 is in fact 4 times too many. it is a crime that it was ever thought into existence

predictions for cress

didn't do this last time between cinder and scarlet but figured it would be fun!! you guys get to silently laugh about how wrong i am, no spoilers

first off, doc erland's place in africa becomes the home base and cinder starts her training

someone tries to recreate garan's device since it will be useful for the rebellion - could be a joint effort between cinder and cress since they have the hardware and software down respectively. idk who's gonna fill the last role of like. bio stuff and the surgeries tho but we'll see

MORE THORNE BACKSTORY

definitely more wolf pov chapters now that marissa no longer needs to make him dodgy

cress is at least a LITTLE bit delulu wackers bonkers cray z lost her marbles etc etc from being so isolated for so long. i would LOVE to get into that mindset and character voice. would make for a very interesting pov

on reading the blurb:

i'm REALLY fucking dumb it finally occurred to me that in rapunzel the hero falls from the tower and gets blinded by thorns. so that tells me exactly who carswell thorne is (rip to when i thought he was the prince from sleeping beauty cause that's embarrassing). i wonder if he gets ejected into space from the satellite and his eyeballs freeze out of his sockets or something

i wonder WHY cress would be locked up by the queen BEFORE she was even able to hack since she wouldn't have been useful then. my first thought was that glamour doesn't work on her like with shells but she's not a shell herself but that wouldn't make sense because the thaumaturges seemed surprised by cinder and michelle benoit so it can't be that. for the sake of my running joke of every fairy tale character either being related or knowing each other, i'm just gonna pin it down to her being somewhere in the family tree and leave it at that

can these people STOP getting separated from each other?? i can't handle it. from the blurb it seems like the boys got cut off from the girls??? and then kai is also separated from all of them lol. this is a prediction only in the sense that i'm trying to guess who's getting separated from who. i think it would tie well into separating everyone from their love interest like poor cinder

i wonder if this will be the book that we meet princess winter since with royal etiquette and all that her presence will p r o b a b l y be required during all them wedding preparations and what not

@eddisfargo @francforever @winterrhayle @winterpinetrees

[spacecadetspe]

A snippet from last year...

Sept. 14, 2023

I awoke the other morning with three shattered chakras; solar, sacrum, and root.  I found myself in Phantasos' villa, but with no memory of the previous night.  He took me out and showed me a crack up the face of one of the nearby buildings.

"An earthquake?" I asked.

"Just a small one."  He pulled out something that looked like a massive, very dense cocoon.  "You passed another aspect."  He'd had to wrap it so tightly in dream magic that he could barely carry it.  To prove its heft, he simply dropped the thing and cracked the pavement.

I took a step back.  I knew exactly which aspect I had passed; the one of my vengeful insistence on hyper-vigilance.  The one which would know no peace until X was gone.

Phantasos asked if I wanted her to be part of the Reckoning of the Ages, but I recoiled.  As powerful as she is, I'm not sure I trust her to be part of my infinite blade.  Let the dwarves have her, or let the Hellkin eat her.  It's... just time I let her go.

I had a pair of spectacles commissioned from the Nailsmith.  Lucidity crystals are the only real stabilizing element of the Dream World; otherwise it's far too mercurial to travel in, let alone build in.

Once, while I was still honing my sight, I was scheduled to do physical therapy in the infirmary.  I was in a rectangular pool, learning to use my depth perception to find the edges and feel out my own buoyancy.  My therapist finished up, praised me for doing a great job, and left me to float for a bit while she finished her paperwork.

Very suddenly, one of the crystals that was upholding the integrity of the building gave out; turns out it hadn't been cleaned properly.  The result was a massive hole in the side of the building where I happened to be lounging in that little pool.  And as such, I was flushed out with the water and landed in the middle of the courtyard, coughing and sputtering.  I had a good laugh about it, but it was quite the scandal for the poor oneiros who was supposed to be dedicated to cleaning those crystals.

Without those crystals, we would not have been able to build the world as we have.  Each of the dream gods carries one on their person and cleans it regularly, but mine tend to stay dirty, for all the traveling I do.  The one thing I clean fairly regularly in the mortal world are my glasses, and so I thought I might be able to carry that concept into the Dream World.  Otherwise, unless I'm with one of the deities, I'm unable to perceive much of anything clearly.

Phobetor arrived a few nights ago with my spectacles, and the first thing I remember is him sliding them gently onto the bridge of my nose.  He had picked them up on the way to the palace, since he had his own reason for coming.

The Hellkin were a bit on the rowdy side (this is normal), but what had puzzled Phobetor was their attraction to something they had found in the Wilds.  When I went back with them, the small group was huddled around a burrow of some kind, each of them fighting to dig into it.  I wasn't able to get close enough to them to determine what it was they were after, but they didn't seem to be causing much trouble otherwise, as far as I could tell.

One of the beings wandered up to me; bloodless-complexioned and having no perceptible eyes in the dark pits of its sockets, it reminded me a bit of a zombie or a thrall.  It was almost completely white, and shambled a bit as it made its way to me.  I hopped up into a nearby tree's branches to observe it, but the entity just stood there at the bottom of the tree looking at me.

I still have no idea what was going on.

I learned that Thanatos has been a visitor of the Archipelago recently.  His decaying aura doesn't seem to have an effect here, so it's refreshing for him to get out of his shell a little bit.  Seeing him in board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt was a real kick, too!  It's nice to know that Phantasos can have a little fun with his uncle.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

[wwilloww]

sh. | ot7 | chapter five

PAIRING ot7 x reader

RATING Explicit.

GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers.

SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

WC 8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS protected sex. friends with benefits relationship. dirty talk. power play dynamics. angst. semi-public nudity. mentions of open relationship. sexting. reckoning with feelings. talk of alcohol use. 

AN: One million bazillion thanks to the best beta and geologist out there, @hesperantha. Everyday I think to myself, how the fuck would this series exist without this magical lady? And every day I am thankful for her beautiful existence. 

Also, if you haven’t seen /the trailer, you might wanna check it out. Just because I had a lot of fun making it and it was super fun to visualize the characters and their tiny little world. 

Going forward, you can read with they/them pronouns by navigating to the series m.list and reading from there. 

That said, LETS JUMP IN!

← || series m.list || →

©️ wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.  

chapter five

January 2020

What is left when you’re not sure where to turn?

You know there’s Yoongi. Dependable, familiar, predictable Yoongi. Predictable in the sense that you know, unabashedly, that no matter what, you can always count on him to draw a short term — but important — curtain over whatever notion, anxiety, or complication that happens to be singing in your mind that day. Erase it, temporarily, with those long fingers, gliding over your skin in expert patterns, drawing you and your pleasure exactly where he wants it to be.

And predictable in the sense that you know you will be perfectly and endlessly satisfied at the end of the night, no matter what.

See, Yoongi doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t draw you out and dangle you over your own pleasure. He gives it to you. Over and over and over and over again. Extends his palm and pulls as many orgasms from you as you can physically muster and then lets you collapse in his arms. Dependable, see? Dependable, always.

Once you’re settled in his lap, Yoongi lets you grind on him for a bit as he undresses you expertly, long fingers slipping under the fabric of your clothes before tugging them off gracefully and tossing them across the room. This, this he did love to do. Loved to scatter your clothes around and then watch you from the bed as you tried to piece some semblance of an outfit back together after he fucked you senseless.

“Don’t throw my bra behind the furniture again,” you murmur as you kiss down his neck. “I know you thought it was a great tactic to get me to rearrange your room the last time — but I’m not moving a hundred pound dresser to get my very expensive bra back again.”

He chuckles. Murmurs, “As you wish.” And then throws your bra someplace you can’t see.

Now that you’re topless, he lets his long fingers skate up the skin of your back, tracing the flesh of your hips and with such delicacy it almost tickles. That is, delicate until his hand weaves itself up your neck. His grip tightens at the root of your hair, tugging your head back in a swift motion and exposing your neck to him.

“How do you want me to fuck you tonight?” His voice is deep and it raises goosebumps on your skin. He lets his teeth trace a line up the sensitive skin of your neck until he reaches your ear and bites down hard.

“Fuck,” you breathe as a shiver runs through your body. Yoongi always took particular care to curate a library of knowledge about your ticks, turn ons, and vices. And then he played them out for you in an expertly coordinated hand.

“Yes, that’s in the cards. But tell me specifically how you want it.”

Behind him, the large bedroom is equipped with enough musical equipment to run a fully functioning studio. Instruments hang on the walls and a large black bed rests in the center of the room. The dark tones of the wood and sheets make the otherwise sparse room feel warm and dark. Compared to the shabby little apartment that you share with Namjoon, this is luxury. Your gaze rests on the large wall of glass that looks out over the city.

“The window,” you say.

He grins.

The glass is cold against your bare skin when he presses you to it. The difference in temperature between the fired heat of your skin and the iced window slices right through you, makes you gasp as his hands run over your body, taking you in as you are: bare and ready for him.

You watch as he strips off his clothes, gracefully and swiftly. First the shirt, then his pants. It’s no surprise to you that he’s not wearing any undergarments at all. Delight lights in his eye when he notices how greedily you watch him.

“Do you want me to—” He begins to lean down, but you stop him and pull him up.

“Just fuck me.”

He turns you around in one movement, your hands flying up to stop the impact, your chest — and your nipples — pressing to the glass. The sensation overwhelms you as he slides two fingers between your folds, collecting the slickness that has gathered there.

“You’re already so wet for me.”

A smile spreads across your face as you hear the condom packet rip and he slots his cock against your cunt, coating himself in your arousal.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, a hint of a whine slipping into your voice.

“Don’t worry. I have no patience for that tonight.” And he pushes in. “How’s that?” he says, the lilting tease in his tone cutting sharp against your ear as his dick sinks into you, inch by delightful inch.  

It feels like you have to catch your breath to speak. “Is it always this good?”

“Baby, if it isn’t, you should ask for a refund.” He punctuates the last word of his sentence with a harsh thrust that rams your chest up against the glass.

“Fuck—” you hiss.

Memory whitens like it’s been covered in a blanket of snow as he begins a punishing pace, hips rutting up into you before drawing almost all the way back, tip barely inside of you before thrusting back into you, all the way to the hilt. Sensation overtakes thought. The slicing coldness of the glass against your nipples paints a stark contrast to the softness of lips pressed to yours, softness of a hand cupping your cheek—

You should be thinking of anything but that.

And it’s easy to do, in this moment. To focus on Yoongi, his commanding presence, the way he plays your body like one of the carefully polished instruments that hangs on his wall.

You cry out when he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and he pauses his movements, drinking in the sound of you.

“God, you sound so fucking good.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and pushes your back against the glass.

“Hop up,” he says, and you frown in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to. You wrap your arms around his neck and with a jump, wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuck—” With a grunt of effort, he holds you up while slotting himself against your folds and pushing inside again.

The most you can do in this position is tilt your pelvis and grind down on him — while holding onto dear life — and you do, rotating it against his waist, drawing the most delicious sounds from his lips. Your hips begin to move in tandem, each pushing closer to the pleasure that you both so desperately desire.

This is better. This is worse.

See, the two of you have fallen into patterns in your hookups. Rules, even, although no one but you thought of them as such. But the habit — and therefore the lines — were clear to you:

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t confess your love. Hookups only, and breakfast together the morning after. Usually he takes you from behind, because, as he once commented to you, “the ass cheeks are the eyes of the heart.” Which to you, made no sense at all, but you still obliged him. Plus, at the end of the day it was all a little more impersonal that way, anyways. Easier to separate from the rest of your relationship.

But looking into his face, pressed so close — there’s something there. A warmth. An understanding. Too much.  

Your head falls to his shoulder and his grip tightens on your thighs as he fucks up into you. Several heavy breaths before you bite gently at the sensitive skin of his neck and he hisses.

“You’re too sensitive,” you chide, although the teasing lilt of your tone is broken up by him fucking into your body — and you both know you love the way he lets you know he likes things done.

“And you’re too shy,” he cuts back. “Why don’t you look at me when I fuck you?” It’s posed as a question but you know it’s a command.

Slowly, you draw your head back and look at him. His eyes are deep and dark, his hair tousled and face lined with pleasure.

“That’s a good little pet,” he whispers. It falls too softly.

It makes you want to kiss him. All you want to do is —

You press your lips to his. Just a peck — the smallest, lightest of pecks.

But the plush of his lips, the way they part so slightly when your lips meet... it leaves you wanting more. So you kiss him again, pressing yourself to him, chasing the feeling of his softness.

He responds, opening his mouth to yours, his tongue darting out to meet yours. His pace doesn’t falter as he continues to fuck up into you. His lips move against yours, fierce, needy, demanding. And it’s then that your stomach drops. It’s as if the winter chill that lays just beyond the door at your back slices through your veins.

You pull back.

“No,” he says, and pulls you back to him. “Stop running.” He brings your face close enough to yours but doesn’t kiss you, just waits.

And you meet him in the middle, kissing him again, afraid of losing the warmth you sparked between you. He groans against you as your hips swivel around his cock, and bites down on your lip.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

With one arm wrapped around his shoulders, you let your other hand press against the nape of his neck, nails digging in just the way you know he likes it. You both have always been in rhythm, in tune with one another, but now with him kissing you — something new sparks between you. Something new, something terrifyingly warm.

When you pull back he smiles.

“Shit,” you whisper, your eyes widening. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi says, an edge in his voice, his hips still circling against yours as he presses your back to the window. “You have nothing to apologize for.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh... stop. It’s okay. It was good.” He punctuates his meaning with a thrust, a small groan slipping from his throat. You want to swallow the sound of his pleasure whole, but still. You let the guilt in your chest rise to your throat.

“No, no, it’s not,” you say, though the coil that’s winding tighter and tighter in your belly makes it difficult to speak. You take a shuddering breath in as he hits your g-spot, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Yes. It is,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s close too. “You fuck better when you kiss. You feel it. You get into it.” Your brow purses at his words. “Now be good for me, forget it, and cum on this cock.”

You nod.

“Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I’ll forget it, be good for you, and cum on your cock.”

“Good,” he smiles.

Each thrust brings you a step closer. He kisses you, again waiting for you to meet his lips, and together you move like dancing partners closer and closer to the edge.

You cum, clenching around his cock and crying his name into his mouth.

The two of you breathe heavily, foreheads resting together for a moment that stretches long enough for you to call it a distance.

“Fuck—” Yoongi says, pulling out of you and smiling gently as he lets you down. “I’ve never heard you come like that before.”

Heat rises to your cheeks.

“Hold on, let me get you a towel or something,” Yoongi says, pressing his thumb to your forehead and wiping away a bead of sweat. You watch as he shuffles about his room, looking for anything to give you. “One second, I think there’s clean ones in the dryer.”

He wanders out of the room wearing absolutely nothing at all.

When you turn back to the outside world, the glass is fogged and the world feels a million miles away. The tension that rises up in your chest feels like a wrought iron ball and you need out, out, now.

There’s a fuzzy blanket on the dresser next to you and you snatch it, wrap yourself up tightly and push open the glass door to the tiny balcony. With a held breath, you step out. The cold concrete sends a chill through your body as you step out. Blue washes through you, shocking the pleasure-numbed nerves in your body back to life.

When you suck in a deep breath of snow-cold air, it feels as if clarity settles into you. You take a second, but shuddering, breath as you realize with a lucid sharp pain the reality of your situation.

Yoongi didn’t erase tonight from your mind. Sex didn’t remove Hobi’s kiss from your lips. An orgasm didn’t ease the unnamable want in your chest. If anything, it all just burns a little brighter.

This thing with Yoongi — it’s not supposed to be a distraction for you, or a means to make you feel something else. It’s supposed to be its own thing, a compartmentalized friends with benefits situation that has always been clear and defined between the two of you. But as soon as you showed up on his door with an ulterior motive other than sex, it became something else. As soon as you kissed him, you made it something else.

Fuck.

Around you, fat flurries drift down from the dark sky. They melt as they land on your bare skin. There’s no escaping this thing inside you. But the intensity of the cold seems like it keeps you here, grounded, in Yoongi’s home and facing actuality. As if any form of warmth would leave you wandering into the sickly sweet honeytrap of the what if’s that already threaten on the edge of your mind.

“Come to bed,” Yoongi calls from inside. When you don’t, he comes out onto the tiny balcony and wraps himself around you from behind, his head notching on your shoulder. “Christ, you’re freezing.”

“It feels good,” you say, nuzzing your body back against his.

“I know I didn’t work you up that much that you need to stand in the snow to cool down. Come to bed.”

Still wrapped around you, he waddles you inside, earning a giggle from you as you tumble into bed and he slams the door closed with a bit of a shiver.

“Here,” he says softly, wrapping you in a blanket before settling beside you.

He’s close. Wildly close. His breath brushes softly against your face as you look at each other. You take in the flushed pink of his face, the way his hair is tousled into a gorgeous mess from the effort of your intimacy.

You could kiss him again, you think and a shock runs through your body at the thought. Christ, his cock’s been inside you a million times and yet you balk at the thought of kissing him, of pulling him right where you want him, where he fits so perfectly, where he feels so warm —

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi says softly.

“What are you thinking?” you cut back, just a little too quickly.

Yoongi chuckles. “I’m thinking that you keep yourself so tightly together.”

You smile tightly. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You bite down on your lip.

“You’re thinking so loud I can almost hear it,” Yoongi says. “Just tell me. You know there’s nothing you could say that would upset me.” When you don’t say anything, he continues. “For god’s sake, I’ve seen your asshole. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine,” he grins.

“Maybe we should…” You trail off and bite the inside of your cheek.

Yoongi rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.

“Maybe we should…?” He prompts. “Join a sex dungeon?”

You laugh, the thought of going to one with Yoongi is one that sends a thrill through you. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

You take a deep breath. “That maybe we should… stop. This.”

He doesn’t ask what you mean. He knows. “That, my dear, sounds like quite the antithesis to going to a sex dungeon with me.”

You laugh. “I can’t believe you’re making jokes when I am friends with benefits breaking up with you.”

“What? Were you expecting me to be angry?”

“I mean I expected a little bit of a fight. Or at least… I don’t know. Questions.”

“Do you want questions?”

You look at him.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well. Why are you ending things.”

You flop onto your back. Look at the ceiling. The way the lights of the city reflect paley onto the white surface. They look like ghosts.

“I don’t really know.”

He pulls you to him, rolling you onto your side and tangling your hands together. “Okay.”

And then the two of you just lie there, staring at the ceiling in silence, the weight of your decision, of this ending, settling over you with a concrete taste. There’s something uncomfortable in this kind of silence. But it’s not him, it’s not an awkwardness, or the building of tension or resentment. None of that lies between you. It’s the fact that within the silence the answers rise up in you, and you find the words spilling from your mouth.

“I don’t want it to be complicated, Yoongi.”

He waits a moment before responding. “Is it complicated?”

“Well.” You sigh. “No. Not with us. Us is easy. I feel like I can tell you what I need or what I want and I trust you to be able to either give me that or set a boundary.”

Yoongi hums. “I feel the same. So then if it’s not us...?”

“I made a mistake tonight. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”

His brow furrows. “Not with me you didn’t. I don’t underst—”

“Not you. It’s me. It’s — it’s always me. I don’t want things to spin out of control. And I feel like they’re about to.”

Yoongi is silent for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that way.” He pulls you closer to him, his grip tightening on your hip. “Really.” You stare down at your intertwined hands. “Look at me.” He waits until you do, summoning an inner strength you didn’t know you needed to look at your friend. “There’s a part of me that wonders how much of this is you punishing yourself for something that you don’t have any reason to be punishing yourself for.”

You can’t help the nervous laugh that shoots from your chest.

“What!? Are you laughing at me!?”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Just… I don’t know what it is, but if anyone were to look right through me and see everything that’s going on, it’s you.”

He smiles softly.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

Do you want your friend to wrap himself around you? Pull you in tight to his warm chest? Remind you of the summer that lies on the other side of this long, long winter?

“No,” you say slowly. “I think I need some space. To… process.”

He nods. “Well, as my newest friends with benefits ex, I agree, you should probably leave. You know. So it doesn’t get awkward.” He grins.

“Yeesh, you’re so quick to kick me out.”

“I know. I guess I just need some space. You know. To process, too. Grieve.”  He paints a fake frown on his face and does a dramatic rendition of a very gross sniffle.

You giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Together you get out of bed, Yoongi — for once — rifling through his room in search of your clothes. With every piece of clothing you put on, you feel like you take another step backwards. Away from Yoongi, away from the vulnerability in you that feels like it tears open everytime he looks at you. His comfort. Each new piece of fabric is another wall resurrected. But when you go to hook your bra behind your back, he steps behind you, taking the straps from your hands and gently hooking the clips together.

“Here.”

When he’s done, his fingers linger on your skin just a moment too long.

“Thanks,” you say softly, turning back to him.

His eyes are still blown wide, his hair perfectly disastrous. There’s something so deadly soft about him. He looks just as he did when you marched into his bedroom earlier in the night. And yet, on the other side of this night, you feel like a totally different person. As if the stranger inside of you has finally stepped forward and introduced herself.

You turn away hastily, heading to the living room. He follows and pulls your jacket from the couch and helps you into it.

Shoes on, jacket on, you’re all ready to walk out the door. And still you linger. Yoongi glances at his watch.

“Well, I’d say six hours is a proper mourning period. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“How about brunch? I’m not getting up at 9am for eggs.”

“Oh and I’m the one who needs space huh?” He smiles softly. “11am. You’ll get up at 11am and I’ll buy you a breakup brunch.”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him. Even as you taste the edge of fear — of anxiety — on your tongue, there is still a kind of undeniable warmth that blossoms in your chest every single time you look at him.

You broaden your smile. Push it down.

There’s one last thing.

“And—”

But he already knows what you’re asking. He steps forward, taking your head between his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. The shock that runs through you is quick and cold.

“I know,” he says. “This’ll still be our little secret.”

When he steps back, there’s something soft in his gaze — too soft, you can’t help but think. Tenderness, surrounded by acceptance and strength. All the things that make Yoongi, well, Yoongi. And yet it feels like too much to handle. Too much to be looked at, to be seen, to be understood when you can barely wrap your mind around what’s going on.

“Sleep well, buttercup.”

Different taxi, different driver, different route.

“Home,” you tell the woman at the wheel when you give her your address, her over-bleached and curly hair forming a kind of halo around her in the seat.

“You got it,” she says smacking her gum and throwing you a wayward smile.

As the car pulls away from the curb and picks up speed, you feel a kind of numbness wash over you.

It was the right decision to end things with Yoongi, you remind yourself, even as you feel a kind of twinge in your chest. You haven’t lost a friend. In fact, you’ve probably preserved your friendship. Saved it from wandering into the brambly bushes of complication and ultimate destruction. Even if it means the loss of killer sex.

You phone dings, and you instinctively brush a hand over your body to make sure you left with all the clothes you arrived in.

When you look at your phone, it’s not who you imagine. It’s not what you imagine.

tae: I forgot how loud you are when you orgasm.

You choke, hand snapping up quickly to cover your mouth.

“You alright, hun?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, yeah, just fine,” you say, but your voice is strained. You immediately type out your response.

you: fuck. i’m so sorry. you: it won’t happen again.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, embarrassment and confusion tightening around your throat. How much more can you really take tonight? Hobi, then Yoongi — now this? You tap your foot as you wait for the response, which takes just a minute to pop up on your phone.

tae: oh… well that’s too bad. I actually didn’t mind it all that much.

Oh.

Oh.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re typing out your response — and turning down the brightness as if it will hide the loudness of your message from the world.

you: is that right?

tae: i said it didn’t i? ive always been a man of my word. brings me back to the old days, in a way.

you: oh?

tae: you know…

you: do i?

tae: you do.

you: it’s been a while. why don’t you remind me?

tae: you’re playing coy tonight. two very loud orgasms and you’re still not done playing?

you: i’d send that shrugging emoji but i can’t find it you: what can i say? I can be needy

tae: should i remind you tae: when we used to park behind the grocery store tae: there was never anyone around but you’d still get so shy and embarrassed tae: and try to cum without a sound tae: but i didn’t hear a single note of shame or restraint tonight tae: shamelessness looks good on you tae: **sounds good on you

you: you were always quite shameless yourself

tae: it gets me far in life

You blink down at your phone, not really sure what to say. Taehyung’s hearty banter is something you’re used to. Even after all these years, your quick back and forth was still twinged with the smallest teasing edge of sexual interest. But you had always kept it within strict boundaries, never returning to your previous relationship, never suggesting—  

tae: but my question is how far will it get me with you?

Your breath freezes in your throat. Never suggesting that you return to anything of the past.

tae: jk tae: unless…?

Taehyung’s sexually laced messages have your head spinning round and round on its pedestal. It’s not as if you had never thought about it, never considered it. But there was a line there, was there not? A line you shouldn’t cross, shouldn’t even think of crossing, no matter how you wanted to. With a deep breath, you respond.

you: i don’t know if we should be having this conversation right now?

tae: why? because you’re my ex? or because of Jin?

Before you can even manage to type out the long list of reasons why you shouldn’t be dipping your toes into the perilous waters of sexting your very happily taken ex, the screen is lighting up again.

tae: if it’s the latter, don’t worry. he’s here too. tae: he says to tell u you’re hot   tae: which is news to me tae: not that you’re not hot, but that he thinks that tae: and he says hes “sorry he missed the show earlier”

you: tbh that was NOT the response i was expecting to get.

tae: we’re very open about these things. he’s quite… encouraging actually

As if this is the opening, you walk through it.

you: in what way?

tae: he likes visibility in a specific way. he likes to watch. likes to be watched and… the attention, especially when its directed at me, especially when he knows that at the end of the day i’m crawling back into his bed

Your heart races in your chest.

tae: sorry, maybe that’s tmi.

you: don’t apologize. i don’t mind tmi

tae: then i won’t apologize.

you: good.

tae: good 😂 tae: you know, i liked it.

you: sorry, liked what?

tae: hearing it tae: hearing you cum

you: did you?

tae: more than i expected

you: more than you should?

tae: that’s not what i said

you: well, like i mentioned, it won’t happen again

tae: why not? You finally get me to admit i didn’t mind it and now you’re telling me i won’t get more? :(

You chew on your bottom lip before responding.

you: it’s complicated.

tae: an orgasm is never complicated.

you: …

tae: but you know what is complicated? tae: feelings. tae: you’re having feelings. tae: oh my god you’re in love with yoongi

you: i am nOT in love with yoongi you: surprisingly it has very little to do with yoongi

Even as you send the text, you know that’s not entirely true.

tae: okay, then what’s going on??? pls don’t play cryptic with me, it’s too late for that shit

you: i don’t even know what’s going on.

tae: oh. tae: so we’re talking big boy emotions

you: i don’t have *emotions*

tae: you’re a fucking liar

you: hey you: language

tae: alright then let me rephrase it tae: what are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your heart catches in your throat. Oh.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver says, and your head snaps up from the light of your phone to see your apartment complex towering high and familiar above you.

“Oh!” You blink yourself from your reverie and hand the woman the cash for the ride. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she says, twisting around to look at you as you skootch across the backseat. “Hey—” You pause, looking at her. The orange glow of the streetlights rings like a halo around her head. “You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” you smile and nod.

A haze settles around your body as you climb out of the taxi. The hard edge of soberness and the sharpness of the winter air mixes and shocks life back into you as his question rings around your head. What are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your breath feels strained as you climb the echoing stairs to your home. The sound of the key fitting into the lock rings with a harsh click, but it brings you back into your body, to the little marks where Yoongi’s hands dug into you, to the confusion that rattles around your mind, and finally, and most devastatingly, the warmth that has sunk deep and inextricably into your heart.

The apartment is dark when you enter.

“Namjoon?” you call out.

No one answers. You don’t bother to flick on the lights as you feel your way blindly through the darkness, hand brushing against the soft fabric of your sofa, the bumpy texture of the wall, and finally the cold knob of your door. Instead of pushing the door open though, you lean against it, taking what feels like the first full breath of the night.

You look at the screen of your phone, Tae’s question, his voice, spiraling around your head. With a shaky breath you respond, fingers flying across the blue light of the screen.

you: something feels off. I don’t… i don’t want to mess anything up. I feel like the only way to keep things in order is to keep myself out of it all.

tae: can i call you?

you: yeah. Joon’s not home.

You finally press into your room. All that silver light from the city reflects off of the white flakes that flutter softly down from the sky. It spills onto your bed like a pool of molten silver, waiting, chilled and cold for you. You flop down onto it, your breath coming out in a long huff.

When your phone rings, there’s a second of hesitation before you hit the answer button.

“Hello?” your voice is shakier than you expected.

“One second.”

You hear the rustling sound of Tae getting out of bed and the door shutting.

“If I can hear you orgasming, Yoongi sure as hell can hear a phone call,” Tae whispers, a slight chuckle to his voice. “Unless you’re just always unreasonably loud.” You can imagine the sly smile that plays across his lips right now. Another door opened and shut and he sighs. “There. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I…”

You trail off. You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what there is to say.

He says your name softly into the phone, the syllables forming such a familiar shape on his tongue. “Are you okay?”

“I...I don’t think so. I don’t feel great.”

“You’re home? Safe?”

“Yeah. I’m home.” You look around your room. Art on the walls, your little desk the messiest place in the room, stacked high with papers and photos and plants.

“Good.” Taehyung takes a long breath. “So. Tell me what’s going on.”

You want to. But your voice freezes in your throat and you can feel the way your silence falls around him.

After breaking up at nineteen, you and Taehyung had always remained friends. The truth was that even though you loved each other, you were so caught up in the physicality of it all that the rest of your relationship — and your relationships outside of that — began to deteriorate. No more sex, you both had decided. And at the time, that meant no more romance. There weren’t lingering feelings of resentment, but you did know — because you both talked about it — that you were both plagued with the lingering question of what if. What if…. But the answer was simple. You both needed more than what the other could offer.

Best friend turned lover turned best friend. If the lingering sexual tension was the only consequence of that, you could handle that. And if you were honest with yourself, you enjoyed it, in a safe, flattering kind of way.

But the reality was that the consequence of your relationship wasn’t limited to just a couple of sex dreams here and there or comments about your former sex life thrown about as jokes. The truth was that there was a permafrost of cautiousness that sat like a layer of ice beneath all of your interactions; one that only thawed away after midnight or a second drink.

Right now, the clock on the wall reads: 3:12am.

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“No — I want to.” You shake your head. “I should… I should talk to someone about this.” You take a deep breath as the sharp images of tonight’s events spiral around your mind. When you speak, it comes out a whisper. “I kissed Hobi tonight.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Or he kissed me. I don’t really — don’t really understand what happened, we were just standing there and had both had some drinks and suddenly it was happening and I should have kept everything within the normal boundaries, I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have overstepped our friendship, but we kissed and I…” Your voice trails off.

“And you liked it,” Taehyung finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I did.”

“And it scared you.”

“Yeah.”

“And then you both ran away from it.”

“Yeah.”

“And your way of running away from it was to go fuck Yoongi again, huh.”

“Goddamnit, Tae,” you huff, annoyed by how right he is.

Taehyung chuckles. “Babe, I’ve known you way too long for me to not pick up on these kinds of things. These kinds of patterns.”

“Patterns?”

Taehyung sighs through the phone. “I love you, dude, but… yeah. Yeah. It’s a pattern.”

As you let his words sink into you, you realize. It is a pattern.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks. “Do you really want to know what’s going on here?”

You laugh softly, even as fear nibbles at your heart. There’s a part of you that wants to turn into blindness. That wants to shield your heart from the reality of the situation. From the reality of yourself.

But there’s also something about facing into the truth — clear and cold like the night waiting just beyond your window. You want the shock of truth through your body, glaring and sharpened like ice. Because at the end of the day, you’ve had enough of this numbed ignorance.

“Yeah. Go for it.”  

“This might be out of the blue. And you might not want to hear it. I could be totally off—”

“Tae, it’s okay. I want to hear it.”

He takes a deep breath. “But maybe… just maybe, it’s time to think about the way you push people away.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you whisper, although the reality of what he’s saying is already dawning on you, even if it’s at a glacial pace.

“How you let people in just long enough, just far enough, to let them see something authentic of you. But you don’t really let them take any real stake in your life.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And that’s okay!” He adds quickly. “At least, it has been okay. We do what we need to do to keep ourselves safe, but… I think you’re past that all now.” You take a shuddering breath and he pauses. “That place in your life where you need to keep the walls and the rules so strict for fear of falling. You’re not there anymore, babe. Maybe it’s time to start looking at the wall that you’ve built and considering letting yourself tear it apart.” And then, so softly you think his voice might be made of something as delicate as a flower petal: “You know, maybe it’s time to think about how you want to start letting love in again. Because you deserve it.”

It’s not until you brush your hand against your cheeks that you realize they’re wet. You look down at your fingertips, glistening with fallen tears, shining silver in the snowlight.

“Fuck, Tae.”

Taehyung lets loose a light, but pained, chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “Goddamn it.”

Silence settles between the two of you. Tears slip silently down your face as you hold the phone to your ear. You can hear him breathing softly on the other end, but Taehyung doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he knows you need a minute to process.

His words slide right under your skin. Directed straight at the thing that has felt so heavy in your chest all night now, it’s as if the whole thing has been broken open within you. Suddenly, you can see it all.

The past years, this game of cat and mouse with your own vulnerability. This façade of carefully curated openness and faux vulnerability. All of the things that you kept as reminders of your freeness, your unlocked heart — the hookups, the fast and furious romances that ended in nothing but silence, the friendships you kept so carefully defined — were actually all just markers of the opposite:

A deep and abiding fear that if you let someone love you, a fear that if you let them close enough to really, truly see you, they might see something they won’t like.

Better to keep things clearly organized. Clearly marked and known and understood. That way you’d know exactly when things were spinning out of control and when someone was just about to get too close.

“You know, there are so many ways to love,” Taehyung says. “It doesn’t just have to be in that one way of fucking and falling in love and then a big white marriage, tada! the end. And, uh, it’s okay to want love. It’s really, really okay, actually. In whatever weird way love shows up for you, even if it’s not the traditional way. It’s even more okay to let yourself have that love, even if you don’t know what it is — don’t know what to call it.”

When your breath comes out shaky and ridden with tears, you can hear a soft oh echo through the phone.

“Hey,” Taehyung says with all the love in the world laced so delicately through his voice. “It’s okay. It might not feel like that right now. But opening up again — if, you know, if that’s what you want — that’s something you can do. It can be done.”

“I-I do, Tae. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to keep fighting this.”

It’s as if you can hear his smile through the receiver.

“That makes me really happy to hear,” he says.

“Where do I even begin?” It comes out a whisper, your voice cracked from the tears that have begun to slow. You’re half afraid to even hear the answer. Half afraid to walk down the path riddled with your greatest fear.

“I think you begin by going to sleep. And in the morning I’ll call you. And I’ll keep calling you. And we’ll work through this together. You know, this isn’t something that you have to do alone.”

You’re silent.

“You’re in bed?” crackles through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Go put on some pjs and go to sleep. You don’t have to do this all in one night.”

You nod, wiping the rest of the tears from your face and sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you to the moon and back, no matter what. You know that. Right?”

You close your eyes. For a second you imagine accepting that it’s true. It fills your chest with a new kind of warmth. One you want to sink into.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you too, Tae.”

“Get some rest then. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

The dial tone clicks and the room falls into complete silence. Only the sound of your breath breaks through, too loud and uncomfortable amidst the darkness. But still, you climb out of bed, dump some water on a towel and wipe at your face, and change into the largest t-shirt you can find in your drawer.

Tonight, you dream the first dream of many in a line that will haunt you — and spark you back to life. It’s Yoongi, his body pushing you up against the ice cold glass, his hands in your hair, his lips whispering, over and over and over again: Is it complicated?

In the morning, you lay awake, just feeling the way your breath falls heavily in your chest. You text Yoongi to tell him you can’t meet up. You look outside.

The world is covered in a blanket of snow. Unrecognizable. Beautiful. Washed clean.

Something hopeful flutters in your chest.

When you look down, your hands are clutching the collar of your sleep shirt. With a deep breath, you wrap your arms around your torso in a hug.

“I don’t really know how to do anything else other than this,” you admit to Tae one day over the phone, flourishing a hand you know he can’t see to emphasize the point you know he already understands.

“Well. I don’t know how much of it is really choosing to be different. Instead, maybe you ought to try looking at it like an undoing. Whenever you match up against that impulse to run, think about sitting with it. Feeling it. And then choosing to move in another direction. Yeah,” he says, and you can tell he’s nodding on the other end of the phone. “An undoing.”

What does this kind of undoing look like? you wonder.

When the world comes to a screeching halt around you, you don’t expect to find your answer. The reality of the pandemic and quarantine — the emptiness of it, the long, drawn out days that feel long and drawn out when you’re in them but that then seem to blend together into one long, monotonous, anxiety riddled day and leave you wondering and wishing for the end — it’s hard. It’s hard in that quiet way that’s easy to ignore and push off, and hard in the way that there’s a big ache in your chest every time you go to sleep, one that crawls straight into your throat and sits there until the morning. It’s hard, and you learn to live with it. It’s hard, but somehow it brings you what you need. When distance seems to be the defining feature of your life, you don’t expect to find clarity. But you do. As you sink into the new routine of quarantine and pandemic life, and as life begins in a new rhythm with new rules and new realities — slowly and wildly new and sometimes horrific — it becomes clear to you.

What does this kind of undoing look like?

It looks a lot like feeling the emptiness in your home when Namjoon is away. Silence louder, space smaller. You find yourself reflected back to yourself, as if you are staring in a mirror.

It looks a lot like distraction. Emotional exhaustion turning into physical. You do distract — and it’s good — with a new drama or a new hobby. Exercising in your room until your cheeks are flushed. Cooking something new and delicious every night. Or sometimes just letting the small rectangle of light in your hand absorb you until the lingering discomfort is numbed, until you’re ready to fall asleep.

It looks like listening to your thoughts, really, truly listening, for the first time. Hearing the stories that you’ve built up in your head over the ears and how deeply they’ve sunk into your reality. It looks like noticing them, and wanting them to change. It looks like standing in the empty hallway of your apartment, feeling it all, and deciding to do something about it.

It looks like weird-ass sex dreams. Once dreamless nights are repopulated with strange and specific sexual fantasies featuring none other than your seven gorgeous friends in various states of undress and revelry.

It looks like letting people in again. Laughing on the phone until tears well up in your eyes. Building up the courage to tell Jimin about your vivid, even pornographic dreams. Writing letters when facetime just doesn’t do it anymore. Telling your friends just how much they mean to you, even when that voice warns you that you ought to keep your feelings held tight to your chest.

It looks like falling asleep one night, the traffic of the city now quieted by reduced travel, and the silence offering you a new kind of truth:

Love can be without limitation.

Love can be without limitation. It is allowed to flow from you without doubt or embarrassment. It is allowed to exist in the world — and in you — without needing to be reciprocated or validated. And you are allowed to ask for it. To demand it from life, even if, at times, it feels like the only place it pours forth from is from that great gaping space in your chest.  

The phone rings a couple of times before it’s cut off in the middle of a digital brrng. You’re ready to hear the familiar buzz of a robotic voice reading: the caller you are trying to reach is not available—

But instead, the deep, heady voice you’re so familiar with comes over the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?” His name feels foreign on your tongue. After all this time, pushing it away, pushing him away, welcoming his name back into your body feels almost like a fresh rain, washing away the dust on your skin.

“The one and only,” he chuckles. “What’s up?”

A ball of emotion wells up in your throat and the phone line hangs in silence as you try to glue together what you want to say, what you had practiced to say, what you should say. But it feels as if it’s all disappeared. 

“I thought—”

“Did I mess up?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion. “What? No, I—”

“That night, I had so much to drink, I’m worried that… I messed up, that— ”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hoseok.”

You can hear the breath release from his lungs and shudder through the phone. “Oh.” It’s silent for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

“I just…” You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you like there’s an ocean between us,” he says, laughter mixed with sincerity threading through his voice.

“It feels like there’s ocean between us,” you sigh.

“I know,” he says, too quickly for him to realize the meaning behind your words. “But I promise this will all be over soon, babe. How long can something like this really last? In no time it’ll all be done with and I’ll be right back beside you. Right?”

You smile. “Right.”

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[capsicle-evans]

Just for Show

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: The Evans Christmas Family get together is coming soon and Chris has to come up with a plan as to who he is taking with him

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

“What do you recommend?” I lean in to whisper to Chris, everyone too busy looking at their own menu. “I don’t know what to pick”

“Mmm the chicken parmesan pasta is always a great idea�� Chris points at the small picture of the dish. “If you pair it with white wine, it’s the cherry on too”

“Mmm I don’t think I should be ordering wine” I chuckle, placing the menu back on the table. “Wine gets me in a sexy mood”

“Uff, then the more reason to do it” He grins at me, placing a hand over my knee. Oh two can play this game, Evans.

“Maybe tonight” I grin, leaning in closer so that my perfume scent engulfs him. “But I’m warning you, Evans. I can get really messy when wine is involved”

“I can handle messy, Miss Y/L/N” He says this as his hand rises up to my thigh just a little bit.

“Then I’ll make sure to be in my worst behavior” I lean in as slowly as I can, Chris’ eyes so focused on me, his lips barely open. I close the distance between our lips, the kiss a little more hot that what would be considered appropriate for a family lunch but for everyone it can look like a small kiss because I grab Chris’ neck to pull him closer so that he can conceal me for when I grace my tongue over his lips.

When I pull away, Chris’ eyes are so dark and stormy, his chest heaving. “Nobody is watching, Y/N”

“Oops, I guess I forgot” I grin. Chris is about to say something when the waiter interrupts him.

“Can I get your drinks?”

I’m the first one to order so without taking my eyes away from Chris, I tell him what I want. “I’ll have a pinot grigio”

“Do you think you are going to be able to handle yourself?” Chris whispers into my ear while everyone is ordering.

“It’s not myself that I’m worried about, Chris” I sit sideways, trying to face. “After all, you were the one watching me shower”

“But you were the one who left the door opened” He winks at me before turning back to the waiter, leaving me with my mouth wide open.

***

“Yeah, were not going out with you looking like that” Chris stands up from his couch as I reach the first floor, ready to go out with Chris and his siblings.

“Why?” I pout, looking down at my outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, babe” Scott waves Chris off. “You look hot as fuck”

“Language” Lisa giggles, earning an eye roll from Chris. “No but you do look gorgeous, honey”

“I know! I never said she didn’t” Chris reaches my side and grabs my waist. “But so will the rest of the bar”

“Oh but I only have eyes for you” I bop his nose, knowing that Chris won’t actually force me to change.

“You’ll freeze to death” He counterparts, still trying to fight me.

“I’ll take a coat” I pat his chest before looking around the room. “Where are my girls?”

“Coming” Shanna shouts as she and Carly walk up to us.

“Lets goo” I clap my hands happily as we all get up, ready to leave.

***

I call already feel sweat running down the back of my neck, my whole body buzzing after the four shots of tequila Scott dared me to drink. It’s been so long since I’ve danced like this, so freely and feeling myself.

“Damn Y/N” Scott slaps my ass playfully, earning chuckles from his sisters. “You do know how to move”

“Thanks” I grin but then I roll my eyes. “Well, at least you notice it”

“Is this about my boring brother over there?” He nods his head to the direction where Chris is. He has a glass of whiskey in his hands, the other one on his phone, his eyes not moving away from the screen.

“Yeah, he hasn’t looked at me even for a minute since we got here” I try to not sound as disappointed as I actually feel but based on the look my fake in laws give me, I know that I’m not doing a good job at it.

“No no no, you go there and you force him to look at you, god every man in this bar probably wishes they could be grinding behind you” Shanna tells me, looking back at her brother. “If you don’t go, I’ll do it myself”

“You walk there and make him want you” Scott nods before giving me a soft push towards Chris’ direction.

I try to steady my breath, trying to come up with a plan to seduce Chris without making a fool of myself. I mean, I could blame it on the alcohol just in case, but I rather not have to do it.

When I close enough, without a warning, a grab the phone from his hand and before he has a chance to protest, I step myself in between his legs, sitting down in his lap. “Can you give me back my phone?”

“Nope” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Can you give me your attention?”

“Why? Is the attention of all the men in this bar not enough?” he scoffs, leaning back and away from me.

“Is that what this is all about? Are you jealous?” I move from his lap to rest both of my knees in the little space between his legs and I place my arms around his neck again, so basically I’m laying on top of him. “You know I don’t care about that, right? I only want your attention”

“You don’t have to lie, Scott and the girls are not close enough to hear you” He rolls his eyes before moving them away from me.

“God you are so stupid” I groan, grabbing his head to bring his focus back to me. I bring my lips up to his mouth, my tongue darting out to get a taste of his mouth. His lips are warm and soft and I can’t help but moan when his tongue meets mine.

Thank god the lighting in this bar is so dark, otherwise people would have seen the entire show Chris and I are putting on. He finally sits up straighter, his hands grabbing the back of my thighs as I dig my hands into his blond mess. I pull his head back by his hair, making him look me in the eyes.

“Chris” I try to speak but I’m so out of breath that it comes out as a moan.

“Fuck” Chris curses, his chest heaving and his hands giving my thighs a hard squeeze that earns him another moan. “We can’t do this”

I’m about to step away from him, feeling rejected when he adds “not here”.

I give him a quick kiss before standing up and stretching my hand to him. “Come dance with me then”

Chris bits his lips, a grin trying to scape, before standing up and grabbing my hand. “Lead the way”

“You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance, Captain” I walk backwards, my hand still in his. “That time at Robert’s house you denied me of such a pleasures”

“It was for your own good” He grins, pulling my arm to stop me on my tracks. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep you hands off me”

“Cocky much?” I roll my eyes, pressing my hands against his chest as his arms circle my waist.

“You know I am, Baby” He winks at me before giving my side a squeeze. “No but all jokes aside, my dance moves suuuck”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, Cap” I pull him closer to me, keeping my eyes on his. “Now, let’s dance”

***

“MCDONALDS MCDONALDS MCDONALDS” Scott and I chant loudly as Chris, who is sitting between us in the back, rolls his eyes.

“Shanna, we are going to have to stop at McDonalds or they won’t stop” Chris leans forward to pop his head between his sisters. “Y/N alone is a force to be reckoned with but you add Scott to the mixture and it’s worse”

“Fine, I’ll look for one not to far away” Carly pulls out her phone to look for one close as Shanna just laughs.

“You are in for a good one, brother” She giggles as Carly gives her the directions.

We finally reach the restaurant and after ordering from the drive thru, we are back in the road to home.

“Don’t get ice cream on the couch” Chris looks at me sternly as he holds my ice cream cone.

“Or what?” I flash him a grin before leaning in to suck on the ice cream still in his hand.

“Fuck” He breaths out lowly, just for me to hear. “You are killing me, woman”

“Good” I dip my finger into the ice cream before rubbing it on his cheek. “Oops, let me clean that”

I lean in, sticking ny tongue out to seductively lick the sweetness of his cheek. “Better?”

“You two knock it off” Scott fake gags as he takes his eyes away from us.

“Nobody told you to look” Chris waves off his brother before grabbing me by the back of my neck to pull me to his lips.

“Stop it or I will jump of the car”

***

“Goodnight” Chris whispers to his siblings before closing the door to his bedroom.

“Tonight was so much fun” I beam at him, my cheeks still red from the alcohol and the hot kiss Chris gave me on the car.

“You know, I get what you got nominated for an Oscar” Chris chuckles, kicking his shoes off.

“What do you mean?” I frown, popping my head from the bathroom door as I pull up my pijama shorts.

“You and the whole act you put on today” He looks at me as I step back into the room. “I’m sure everyone is convinced we are in love now”

There’s a part in me that instantly breaks, I fell my legs go numb, like my whole body just got thrown down a hill. “Oh, yeah.. the act. I mean that’s what I’m here for after all”

“Thank you” Chris stands up from the edge of the bed to place a kiss on forehead before walking towards his closet to pull out his pillows and blankets.

“No problem” I whisper softly before walking up to the bed and letting the bed spread engulf me.

“Every thing okay?” Chris asks be as I turn my back to him.

“Yup, just tired” I reply, trying hard not to cry right then and there.

“Okay” I hear him say before laying down on his made up bed. God, men are so oblivious. “Good night”

I don’t reply, already feeling the tears in the back of my eyes and my throat drying up.

“Y/N?” Chris asks again when I don’t reply.

I don’t know what happens but suddenly I’m sitting up and facing him. “No, Chris, actually, everything’s not fine because I wasn’t acting and for a second there I thought you weren’t either. For me, pretending to be in love with you stopped being an act a long time ago. Fuck I don’t think it was an act at all. And I know I promised to help you with this little stunt but I feel like if I stay and I keep pretending that this is all fake to me, I’m going to end up so heartbroken beyond repair so I think it would be best if I leave tomorrow morning”

“Y/N”

“Don’t. I don’t need your pity nor an apology or whatever it is that you are going to give me. I know that this isn’t your fault, you made it pretty clear that this was all an act and that you don’t want a relationship right now and I respect that but I also hope you respect my decision to remove myself from this situation before it gets me” I know that I’m crying now, big tears running down my cheeks.

“Can I talk?” Chris asks me from the floor where he is sitting.

“Sorry, yes” I clean my tears with the back of my hands as Chris moves to sit on the edge of the bed, next to me.

“The fact that you think that this was all on act to me is beyond me” Chris brings his hand up to caress my cheek. “I seriously thought I was being so obvious about how you made me feel that I was scared that you were just acting so that’s why I said what I said. I didn’t say it because I wanted it to me an act, a lie, I said it because I was trying to convince myself of it. Because I thought that that’s what it was to you, I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to love me back because I knew it was unfair. I’ve spent the last couple of days fighting this urge to hold you all the time, not just when my parents or my siblings are around”

“Chris, I-”

“I love you, Y/N”

*************************************************

Pleaseee dont hate me!! I had scheduled this to be posted on friday but I think I did it wrong since it didn’t! Sorry!!!

Also, this is not the last part, I’m doing one more so that should be up by friday.

Hope you like this❤️

Tag List: @patzammit @hollandprkr @hauntedmuffinoperarascal @denisemarieangelina @marianas-studyblr @justjulie1105 @itsscottiesstark @phillygirl19 @prettymuchawhore @cevansfics  @jennamarieee623 @chrisevanisliterallysir @spookyscot   @c00lkidvibes @duskangxls @supraveng @syms-things-5 @sabstrang

[fanfics4all]

Torture

Request: Yes / No 

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Harry Potter x Fem!Lupin!Reader 

Word count: 4190 (Probably could have gotten to the torture party quicker, but I just had to add backstory lol)

Warnings: Torture obviously, and Dobby’s death

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

A/N:  Bingo card made by @slyttherins​

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Harry and I have been together since he and Cho broke up. Now we were in our seventh year and everything was going to hell. Professor Snape had killed Dumbledore and was now in charge of Hogwarts. I feared going back to school, but I feared for Harry more. So, when the summer was coming to an end and my older brother Remus said he was going with the Order to Harry’s I immediately demanded to go with him. 

“Y/N/N, it’s dangerous.” He said. 

“This is my boyfriend’s life in danger. I am coming with you.” I said, standing my ground. 

“Y/N/N… if anything happened to you Mum and Dad would kill me.” He sighed. 

“If anything happens to you or Harry, you won’t have to worry about Mum and Dad.” I threatened. 

“There’s nothing I can do to convince you to stay home with Edward, is there?” He sighed again. 

“Not a thing. And if you go without me I’ll just follow you.” I shrugged and he sighed once again. 

“Fine, fine. You can join me, but you better not leave my side.” He said and I smiled. 

“Thank you!” I said and hugged him. 

Before we went off to Harry’s house, The Order met up to discuss what would be happening. You-Know-Who was searching for Harry. He was going to go after him and we needed to act first. We were the only line of defence for Harry and I was going to fight for both our lives till the very end. Once the plan was in order we all got on our brooms and headed for Harry. When we all landed Harry opened the door and I ran up to him, throwing my arms around him and holding him tightly. He hugged me back and I leaned up to kiss him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked shocked. 

“Did you honestly think I would just sit around while your life was in danger?” I laughed and walked into the room with the others. 

“I tried to get her to stay home, but she’s stubborn.” Remus said and I smiled. 

“All righ’ ‘arry? Yeh look fit.” Hagrid said with a smile. 

“Yeah, he’s ruddy gorgeous. What say we get undercover before someone murders him.” Mad-Eye said in his usual rough tone. 

“I thought you were looking after the Prime Minister, Kingsley?” Harry asked. 

“You’re most important.” Kingsley answered. Harry smiled and Bill Weasley walked in, extending his hand to Harry. 

“Hello, Harry. Bill Weasley.” He introduced himself. 

“Wasn’t alway this handsome.” Fred joked. 

“Dead ugly.” George joined in. 

“True enough. Owe it all to a werewolf by the name of Greyback. Hope to repay the favor one day.” Bill said. Fleur walked in next to him and kissed his cheek. 

“You are still beautiful to me, William.” She said. 

“Just remember, Fleur, once you’re married, Bill takes his steaks on the raw side now.” Remus said, finally walking into the room with Tonks. 

“My husband, the joker. By the way, wait until you hear the news! Remus and I are-” 

“Alright, alright! You’ll all have time for a cozy catch-up later! We’ve got to get the hell out of here and soon!” Mad-Eye cut her off. He dropped a sack by his feet and turned to Harry. 

“Potter, you’re underage, which means you’ve still got the Trace on you.” He said. 

“The Trace?” Harry asked. 

“You sneeze and the Ministry will know who wipes your nose. Point is, we have to use those means of transport the Trace can’t detect, brooms, thestrals, and the like. We’ll go in pairs. That way if anyone’s out there waiting for us- and I reckon there will be- they won’t know which Harry Potter is the real one.” He explained. 

“The real one?” Harry asked. 

“I believe you’re familiar with this particular brew.” He said, pulling out a flask. 

“No! Absolutely not!” Harry exclaimed. 

“I told you he’d take it well.” Hermione sighed. 

“If you think I’m going to let people risk their lives for me-” 

“Never done that before, have we?” Ron joked, cutting him off. 

“This is different. Taking that. Becoming me- no.” Harry said. 

“Well, none of us really fancy it, mate.” Fred said. 

“Yeah, imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as scrawny, specky git forever.” George joked. 

“Reckon Y/N would love having more than one Harry.” Fred added and I rolled my eyes. 

“Piss off, the both of you.” I said and they laughed. 

“Everyone here’s of age, Potter, and they’ve all agreed to take the risk.” Mad-Eye said. 

“Technically, I’ve been coerced. Mundungus Fletcher, Mr. Potter. I’ve always been a huge admirer.” Mundungus introduced and just about everyone rolled their eyes. 

“Nip it, Mundungus! Alright, Granger, as discussed.” Mad-Eye said. Hermione nodded slightly and grabbed a bit of Harry’s hair and pulled. 

“Blimey, Hermione!” Harry groaned. 

“Straight in here, if you please.” Mad-Eye said, holding open the flask. Smoke rushed out the top and he handed it to George first. 

“For those of you who haven’t taken Polyjuice Potion before, fair warning. It tastes like goblin piss.” Mad-Eye said. 

“Have a lot of experience with that, do you, Mad-eye?” Fred joked. Mad-Eye’s eye rotated towards Fred. 

“Just trying to defuse the tension.” Fred said. George took the first sip, then Fred, Ron, Hermione, Fleure, Mundungus, and finally it was passed to me. 

“Y/N? No! Lupin, you can’t seriously be alright with this!” Harry said, before I could take a sip. Everyone else was already transforming. 

“I’m not, but like I said, she’s stubborn.” Remus sighed. 

“Who’s she gonna ride with?” He asked and everyone was silent. That was something they haven’t figured out yet. 

“I’ll go on my own. They won’t expect it and probably will just leave me be.” I shrugged. 

“Absolutely not!” Remus said. 

“It would look less specious than two Harrys riding together.” I pointed out. 

“Very well.” Mad-Eye nodded. 

“What? You can’t be serious! What if she gets hurt? There’s no one with her to protect her!” Remus said. 

“She can’t go on her own!” Harry said. 

“Y/N, are you willing to take the risk?” Mad-Eye asked and everyone looked my way. 

“If it means Harry is safe, then of course.” I answered. 

“She agrees, now hurry up and drink so we can get on with this.” He said. Before my brother or boyfriend could stop me I took a gulp of the awful potion and handed the flask back to Mad-Eye. I soon also looked like Harry. 

“Wow, we’re identical!” Fred and George said together. 

“Not yet you aren’t.” Mad-Eye said. He walked over to the sack he dropped earlier and dumped out eight pairs of identical clothing. 

“Don’t you have something a bit more sporty, do you?” George asked. 

“Yes, don’t fancy this colour at all.” Fred agreed. 

“Fancy this, you’re not you, so shut it and strip.” He said to the twins and turned to Harry. 

“You’ll need to change too, Potter.” He said. All of us started stripping, and I think I can speak for everyone when I say that it was a bit awkward. 

“Bill, look away… I’m ‘ideous.” Fleur said dramatically and I rolled my eyes. 

“I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo!” Ron said with a smirk. 

“Harry, your eyesight really is awful.” Hermione said, wobbling a bit. 

“Don’t worry Harry, I still love you.” I said and he smiled. 

“Blimey. I almost forgot!” Mad-Eye rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a bunch of glasses. 

“Right then. We’ll be pairing off. Each Potter will have a protector, except for Y/N, As for you, Harry…” Mad-Eye started. 

“Yes?” Everyone but me answered, again I rolled my eyes. 

“The real Harry! Where the devil are you, anyway?” He asked. 

“Here.” Harry said, walking towards him. 

“You’ll ride with Hagrid.” He finished. 

“Brought yeh here sixteen years ago when you were barely bigger than a Bowtruckle. Seems only righ’ I should be the one ter take yeh away.” Hagrid said and I smiled at how sentimental he could be. 

“Yeah, it’s all very touching. Let’s go.” Mad-Eye said and stormed out of the house. Everyone got on their brooms and thestrals, while Hagrid got on his motorbike. As the real Harry walked out of the house Hagrid tapped the sidecar for him. Instead of going to him he walked over to me. 

“Please be careful, love.” He whispered. 

“I’ll be fine. And if for some reason I’m not then you and Remus can tell me you told me so.” I smirked. 

“Harry, we need ter go!” Hagrid called him. 

“Go, I’ll see you soon.” I smiled and he nodded. He got in Hagrid’s sidecar and everyone looked towards Mad-Eye. 

“Good luck, everyone. On the count of three. One… two…” Before he could finish Hagrid’s bike came to life and off he went. Everyone flew to the skies and split off. It wasn’t long until an uneasy feeling filled the air. Death Eaters dropped from the clouds and started surrounding us. Green flashes lit up the sky as they tried to hit us. I glanced ahead and saw the real Harry was getting away. Everyone was splitting off more and I found myself alone. I couldn’t see anyone ahead or behind me, no one was around to help me if I needed it. I pushed those thoughts away. This is for Harry. This is so he’s safe. Suddenly three Death Eaters came out of nowhere and shot a spell at my broom. My broom stopped flying and was now pulling me towards the ground. Fear gripped my heart as the wind harshly hit my face. I suddenly stopped falling and was grabbed by one of the Death Eaters. 

“Think he’s the real one?” The one holding me asked. 

“No, they wouldn’t let the real Potter go off on his own.” Another answered. 

“Doesn’t matter if he’s the real one or not, he could have information. Let’s take him with us. Bellatrix will get ‘im to talk.” The last one said. My eyes widened and my throat went dry. Harry and Remus were going to kill me if Bellatrix didn’t first. 

I didn’t say a word as we arrived at Malfoy Manor. I knew the potion was going to wear off soon and they would know exactly who I was. Just as we were arriving at the large gate I could feel myself turning back into myself. 

“Oi, looks like you was right, this ain’t the real Potter.” The one gripping my arm said. 

“She’ll still be of some use.” Another said. We walked up to the gate and standing on the other side was Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa Malfoy. Bellatrix walked forward and the Death Eater holding me pushed me against the metal bars. 

“She was a fake Potter, but we thought she might have information.” One said. 

“Bring her in.” Bellatrix said with an evil smirk. I was roughly brought into the Manor and pushed down to my knees. 

“Call Draco, he might know who she is to Potter.” Bellatrix said. She kneeled down in front of me and roughly pulled my chin up to I was facing her. 

“Tell me dearie, why were you left all on your own?” She asked, but I said nothing. 

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” She asked with a smirk. We heard footsteps enter the room and I saw Draco. His eyes widened slightly and I saw worry swimming in them. 

“Draco, I was hoping you would know who our guest is.” Bellatrix said, turning to face him and letting go of my face. 

“S-She went to Hogwarts.” He answered. It was obvious he was scared and that he didn’t want to give me up. 

“We know that much, but who is she to Potter?” She asked in a slightly annoyed tone. Draco stared at me for a moment and gulped. 

“Now Draco, all you need to do is tell us. She could be the key to keeping the Dark Lord from killing all of us.” His Father said. It was now my turn to gulp. Sure Draco was a huge git to my boyfriend and friends, but he oddly never said anything about me. Always just questioning why I was with Harry. Perhaps it was because I was nice to him despite everything he did. 

“I’m Y/N Lupin. Harry’s girlfriend.” I answered and everyone looked at me in shock, Draco especially. 

“See dear, that wasn’t so hard.” Bellatrix said, her smirk growing and seeming to get more evil. 

“If you simply answer all my questions then no harm will come to you.” She said, walking closer to me again. 

“I will not betray my friends, family, or boyfriend.” I answered with a hard stare. 

“Then this will be a very hard time for you.” She said, her fake kindness dropping. 

She wasn’t lying when she said that. At first it was just little cuts with her knife. It was painful, but nothing I couldn’t handle. However, she was just warming up. She then moved on to the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Even when the spell was over the pain still lingered for a little while. That lasted a month or so, I’m not entirely sure, but once she realized that I wouldn’t be talking by that means she moved on. She said she didn’t want to damage me to the point I couldn’t say anything. Nothing she was doing was working and I could tell she was getting frustrated. That’s when she had her brilliant idea. She brought me up from the cellar and standing there was Lucius, Narcissa, and Grayback. I felt my blood run cold and boil at the same time. He was the man that hurt my poor brother at the age of five! 

“I’m sure you know Fenrir well.” Bellatrix smirked. She pushed me to the ground and held me down. 

“Now, I’m going to let him do the same thing he did to your brother, unless you tell me what I want to know.” She said. 

“Where is Harry Potter?” She asked. 

“Now that you’ve all taken over the Ministry, he could be anywhere.” I answered. I didn’t know where he would be at this point. I didn’t know what the plan was. 

“Liar!” She shouted and started carving something into my arm. 

“Tell me where he is!” She shouted at me. 

“I don’t know!  Please! I don’t know!” I cried out in pain. 

“You are a pathetic little liar. Fenrir!” She called and got off me. 

“I think it’s time you gave her a little gift.” She said, that evil smirk appearing on her face once again. 

“With pleasure.” He smirked. He crawled over to me and sniffed me. He laughed and licked the blood that split from my arm. 

“I’m going to enjoy this.” He said and bit into the same arm that Bellatrix carved into. I screamed and cried as his sharp teeth drug into my skin. He was suddenly pulled off me and Narcissa was there placing something on my arm. 

“Wormtail! Come lock our new little puppy up. I suspect she’ll become hungry soon.” Bellatrix smirked. I was pulled off the ground and brought back down to the cellar. Wormtail locked a metal collar around my neck and smirked. 

“Be a good dog and keep the howling down.” He said and left with a laugh. 

It wasn’t long after he left that I started transforming. I thought the Cruciatus Curse was the worst pain I’ve ever felt, but that was wrong. Transforming into a werewolf was way more painful. It felt as though all my bones were breaking and shifting into different places. It felt like my mind was going hazy and I had no control over myself. I felt the hunger hit me and the need to hunt became strong. I tried to run, but the collar around my neck kept me in place. I screamed, growled, and howled trying to get out of the chains and to something to eat. When I realized that I couldn't, I started hurting myself. I clawed at my neck and arms, ripping the skin from my body. That was the longest night of my life. And the next few days I felt incredibly ill and weak. It didn’t help that they were hardly feeding me anymore. 

That was how it went from then on. They didn’t bother torturing me for information anymore, I was now torturing myself. They had done the worst to me and now were just leaving me with my own thoughts. Remus would blame himself for this. I know he was going to say how he should have tried harder to make me stay home. Or how he should have made sure he was with me the night we all split up. I knew Harry would blame himself too. He’d say how it was his fault all this happened. All because I was with him. 

“Y/N?” Someone asked quietly and I looked up to see Draco. He was standing over me and I pushed myself closer to the wall. 

“Please, don’t come any closer…” I whispered. 

“What did they do to you?” He asked, kneeling down, but not coming extremely close. 

“They made me like my brother…” I answered and his eyes widened. 

“Grayback?” He asked and I nodded. 

“They’ve kidnapped Luna, they’re bringing her here.” He said. 

“They’re keeping her with me? I’ll kill her!” I cried. 

“No, you won’t. You’re locked up and can’t get to her, she’s smart enough to not come near you.” He said. 

“I’ll bring you something to eat later tonight, I know they’re starving you.” He said. 

“Why do you care so much?” I asked. 

“You’re one of the only people who was ever nice to me.” He answered with a small smile and stood up. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” He said and left. 

Just as Draco said, Luna was thrown into the cellar with me. She looked at me with wide eyes and came towards me. 

“Y/N?” She asked. 

“Luna, stay away.” I said. 

“Why? Why are you in chains?” She asked confused. 

“I-I’m a werewolf now… So please just stay away.” I begged. 

“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She said and took a few steps my way. 

“Please Luna! Just stay back, I don’t want to hurt anyone.” I cried. 

“You’re not in your wolf for now Y/N, you won’t hurt me.” She smiled and came to sit next to me. 

“I don’t know when the full moon is…” I whispered. 

“Then I’ll stay away at night, but you need a friend right now.” She said and hugged me. It was the first kind touch I had since I got here. She was right, I needed that. 

A month went by and as promised Luna stayed away from me each night to be safe. When the night was finished and I was back to human Luna came to comfort me. She helped keep me distracted and even helped Draco when he came to check on me. The two of them patched up my wounds that I had given myself. Luna was sitting with me and talking about something her Dad had written about in their paper. I tried to pay attention, but my mind kept drifting off to Harry and my brother. 

“What are we gonna do? We can’t leave Hermione alone with her!” A new voice said and Luna and I looked at each other confused. 

“Ron?” She asked as she got up and looked around the corner. 

“Harry?” She asked and my heart skipped a beat. 

“Luna?” Harry asked and a few tears fell down my face. 

“Y/N is here too, just this way.” She said. She came back around the corner with Ron and Harry following her. 

“Y/N!” Harry said, his face looking a bit odd, but it was definitely him. He ran up and hugged me and I held him back. 

“What happened to you? Why are you locked up like this?” He asked, worry clear in his voice 

“They tried to get me to tell them where you were…” I answered. 

“What did they do to you?” He asked again. 

“Grayback…” I whispered and his eyes widened. 

“You’re…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. 

“I’m just like Remus now…” I whispered. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He said and pulled me to him. 

“We’ll get you out of here, I promise. 

“There’s no way out of here. We’ve tried everything. It’s enchanted.” Ollivander said. He was here before I was, same with Griphook. Harry pulled up his pant leg and pulled out a piece of mirror. 

“You’re bleeding, Harry. That’s a curious thing to keep in your sock.” Luna said. 

“Help us.” He whispered to it. Then quickly put it away as footsteps grew closer. Ron and Harry ran towards the door as it opened. 

“Let her go!” Ron growled. 

“Shut up! Get back!” Wormtail growled at them. 

“You, goblin, come with me.” He said and then they left. 

“Aah!” A new voice said suddenly. 

“Dobby? What are you doing here?” Harry asked. 

“Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter, of course.” He answered. 

“Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter.” He added. 

“You can apparate in and out of this room? Could you take us with you?” Harry asked. 

“Of course, sir. I’m an elf.” Dobby answered like it was obvious. 

“Works for me.” Ron said. 

“Dobby, I want you to take Luna, Y/N, and Mr. Ollivander-” 

“Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth.” Ron cut him off. 

“Trust me.” He added. 

“Whenever you’re ready, sir.” Luna said. 

“Sir? I like her very much.” Dobby said and they made their way over to me. 

“Meet me at the top of the stairs in ten seconds.” He said and Luna grabbed my hand. We were suddenly out of the cellar and on a beach. There was a little cottage that was quite cute, I wondered who it belonged to. Luna kneeled next to me and smiled. 

“Are you alright?” She asked. I felt my neck and the chain was no longer on my neck, but I felt some blood dripping down from where it dug into my skin. 

“I should be, but I shouldn’t be around anyone. The next full moon could be soon for all I know.” I said, slightly freaking out at just the thought of hurting my friends. 

“Shh Y/N, we’re free and safe now. Just enjoy that.” She smiled. I suppose she was right, but Harry wasn’t with us yet. 

It wasn’t that long until the others arrived. Their landing was a little rougher than ours, however. 

“You’re alright. We’re safe. We’re all safe.” Ron said to Hermione. 

“Harry Potter.” Dobby said and we all looked at him. 

“Dobby. Dobby! No, just… hold on.” Harry said and ran to him, holding him in his arms. 

“Hold on. Look, just hold on, okay?” Harry begged. 

“We’ll fix you. Hermione will have something. In your bag, Hermione? Hermione? What is it? Help me!” Harry begged, but she didn’t move. 

“Such a beautiful place… to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friend… Harry Potter.” Dobby said, his last words he’ll ever speak. No one moved except for Luna. 

“We should close his eyes, don’t you think?” She said, kneeling next to them. Harry nodded and she gently closed his eyes. 

“There. Now he could be sleeping.” She said. 

“I want to bury him. Properly, without magic.” He said and everyone nodded. I got up and made my way  to him. 

“I’ll help you.” I said and he nodded. We all buried him without magic, but in the end it was just Harry and I left at his grave. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I should have stopped you from taking that stupid potion.” He said and I shook my head. 

“Stop it. This isn’t your fault.” I said. 

“Yes it is Y/N, it is entirely my fault! You were brought into this mess because of me!” He said and I hushed him with a kiss. 

“Stop it. I love you Harry Potter and I would have done this no matter what. You and Remus are going to blame yourselves for the rest of your lives, but I will not ever blame either of you.” I said and he went to say something, but I stopped him with a kiss. 

“Whatever it is, don’t say it.” I said and he sighed. 

“Remus is going to kill me.” He said and I shook my head. 

“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” I said. That was when everything turned around. I was safe and with Harry and my friends. I’d allow myself these few moments of peace before the full moon came to ruin it again. But for now, I need to focus on the good. I needed to be happy that I was reunited with Harry and my friends.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @accio-rogers​ @sambucky8​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @vanessa-kom-skaikru​ @impulse-anchor​ @vamora​

[the-slasher-files]

Temper, temper - pt 3

INCLUDES BO SINCLAIR ONESHOT

TW: nsfw, rough sex, dirty talk, angst

WORDS:  2069

“BO” You yelled in the living room barely obstructing the sound of breaking glass in the kitchen “BO, STOP”

Again, he was lost, lost somewhere in his uncontrolled rage. Usually your voice would snap him out of the anger, but not tonight. It was a long, long night. Undenounced drifters found the town of Ambrose this afternoon, not knowing their fate by the end of the evening. You were at work in the next town over when you got the text from Bo “Travelers, don’t come home until I text you” That  was all you needed to know, he would be killing tonight.

Following his instructions, you waited and waited. Stopping in at a local shitty bar trying to calm your nerves with whiskey and rum, constantly staring at your phone on the counter. The drifters came in around 1 pm and it was now pushing 2 am. No text, no call, no nothing. Worry, guilt and anxiety all formed a pit in your stomach. Usually they were done by now. Was he hurt? or dead? you thought, zoning out on your black phone screen, swirling the brown liquid in your glass. 

“You ok lady? Do you want me to call someone for you?” The bartender spoke making you jump. Shaking your head you placed the cash on the bar, gulping the last of the alcohol grimacing at the burn in your throat. Grabbing your phone and purse you hopped into your jeep, checking the messages one last time before pulling away. 

Tears were trying to force their way from your eyes as you sped down the pitch black highway. You were so consumed in your thoughts that your body just automatically drove you home. 

At the washed out road Lester’s truck was sitting there, as if he was waiting for you. Both you and Lester jumped out of your vehicles, running up to each other. “Lester where is he? I need to know?” your voice breaking

“Now, now you don’t wan’ to go up there,” Lester reckoned, holding your shoulders trying to force you back to your vehicle.

“L-Les please, let me see him” You didn’t care if he was beaten or just raging, you needed to know if he was fine.

“Look, if you go up there... It ain’t pretty, the kills were not clean.. There was a lot of struggle, Bo-” he was cut off from his explanation.

“Bo is what?” you asked quietly trying to control yourself.   

“Bo is a mess right now, ragin’ madly.. He is madder than a bull righ’ now... I haven’t seen him like this in a long while” Lester warned you, but could see in your eyes how badly you needed to see him. Bo’s brothers had seen you tame his temper before, so maybe tonight you were the sight for sore eyes he needed.

Lester let you go, running up the dirt path to the hidden town and up to the house. Bo’s truck was sitting outside, the front hood was dented and covered in blood. One of the house windows was newly broken, letting the yelling and clashing out into the cool night air.  

So there you were, yelling his name trying to get his attention without getting too close. “BO ENOUGH!” you shouted, finally grabbing his attention. Whipping around with a wild look in his eyes, they were no longer baby blue, they were dark and hardened, this wasn’t the same man that you left this morning. 

Bo was covered in a combination of sweat and blood, a few open wounds surrounded his body. His dark hair was dishevelled and formed curls from his dampness. This was a man he had only let you see a handful of times, and yet it was still jarring. Crazed, wild, not man nor beast. 

“Baby,” You sweetly spoke to him trying to release him from his anger. Relieved to see him walking around and ok, you could breathe again. Bo’s temper always controlled him and it was something you knew how to handle or at least get him to come down from, but tonight might be different. “Babe,” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He bit back at you, kind of hurting your feelings, you knew it was in rage but it just stung. “I didn’ call you or text you, why’d you come home?” 

“I needed you.. I needed to make sure you’re fine-” He cut you off from your easing voice.

“FINE?! Fine? You don’ think I can handle myself?” Bo questioned turning around to knock whatever was on the counter off it with loud smashes and clangs. Anytime he thought you questioned his abilities, especially to protect or take care of himself he lost it. 

“Bo that’s not what I meant, you know that... I- I just couldn’t stop thinking about the worst... Like if you were injured or even killed.” It went quiet for a second as he gripped the sides of the sink huffing and puffing. “Bo... baby” Softly talking to him walking to the kitchen, seeing the broken glass all over the floor. Stopping at the doorway, you waited. Waited for him to do something. “look at me Bo, please” 

Shooting back his gaze meeting yours, his eyes were still dark and wild. You could tell his mind was working in overdrive, a war between good and evil fought inside his head. One of his biggest fears was hurting or even killing you out of anger. Bo was suddenly hovering over you in the doorway, looking at you like a wolf about to hunt an injured lamb. “Bo” you tried to get him to snap out of himself for a minute. 

Reaching his bloody hand up looking like he was going to caress you for a minute, he grabbed your throat instead, pushing you against the doorway almost lifting you. “Christ.. Bo” Clawing at the deep scar tissue on his wrist, trying to not go too hard for fear it will set him off into rage more, remembering his childhood.   

With his other arm he grabbed your waist making your legs wrap around his, he growled when you adjusted yourself, grinding against him. “You need to learn how to listen to me... I did not text you... I did not want you here yet,” Bo heaved, pressing himself against you, forcing the doorway uncomfortably into your shoulder blades. “Comin’ home early you get to see this.... this fucking monster” He spoke about himself with a hint of sadness in his voice, trying to break himself of his own anger. 

The sentence broke your heart, but before you could dwell on it his large hand came off your throat and carried you to the pool table in the middle of the living room. Trying to recover your breathing from his hand, Bo placed you on your back with your head lazily hanging off the wooden edge, knowing what was coming you just prayed Vincent and Lester would not walk into the house, or hear your impending screams of pleasure and Bo’s dirty talk.

Quickly Bo undid his belt and opened his blood covered mechanic pants letting his half hard cock free and immediately roughly forced it into your mouth, moaning as he did it. “Fuuuck.. what a good girl” Bo snatched your hands that were trying to grip onto something, letting you clench his forearm and numb wrist as he thrusted in and out of your mouth. His other hand trailed down to your jeans, unbuttoning them and rubbing your increasing wetness. 

“All wet for me already... you little slut... getting off on my rage” He growled picking up pace, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. So incased in lust he didn’t notice the fact your skull was being banged on the solid wood, or the fact that you were making choking noises around his now fully erect member. 

Bo looked down seeing the stream of tears coming from your eyes, and the spit that was creating strings along your face. He loved this sight, he could stare at it all day. “You are such a good cock whore” Smirking at the names he called you. Bo always loved to say things that would make a sailor blush, it was just him in this state, all day he would call you angel or baby girl but in this world right now, you were his little fuck toy. 

With his hand still teasing you over your underwear, making you a needy mess, Bo suddenly pulled the fabric aside pushing 2 thick fingers inside making you moan loudly on his cock. Precum coated your tongue and his member twitched in warning that he was about to reach his climax. Bo pulled out of your mouth leaving you gasping and coughing. 

Your eyes blurred with tears, as you tried to wipe them away you noticed Bo was gone, not standing above you anymore. Once you were ready to ask where he was, he grabbed your ankles from the other side of the pool table making you squeak. Bo pulled you to the middle of the table ripping off your clothes until you were completely bare, so vulnerable, like prey. 

Climbing on top of you, his smell was overwhelming, cigarettes, sweat, and iron. His body was heaving and shaking possibly from the sex or still from his anger. Bo’s eyes were still dark and his body was tense, elbows on either side of your head and he straddled your body, caging you, looking at you like a feast. Kind of making you uncomfortable.

Without warning he thrusted into you letting your back arch so you were chest to chest. “Fuck your cunt is tight... so perfect” Bo sharply inhaled as all of him filled you, touching every place you needed. “You need to be fucked more” 

His speed was growing and growing with each thrust, pulling out of you almost fully before ramming back into you, leaving you whimpering and writhing in pleasure under him. “Bo” you cried as his elbows were now digging into your shoulders having his thrusts moved you up, pushing the bones into your muscles. “Ah fuck, Bo”

“Louder” he hoarsely demanded, not in the state of mind to care about what his brothers heard. “I said louder”

“Bo.. BO, please BO” you were so close to your end, the heat coil burning in your stomach 

“Let it go you slut... let the whole fuckin’ town hear you” growling against your neck now biting it 

“BO” you screamed clenching your walls around his cock making him lose it as well, coating your insides with his seed. You went lifeless on the table. The night had too many emotions and feelings that your body had just given out, as did Bo’s. He rolled next to you, heavy panting filled the room. 

Turning your head towards him, observing him, seeing what he was going to want next, but he looked dead tired, he looked almost broken. Bo turned his head meeting your eyes, his baby blues were back and the tension had released throughout his whole body as it shuttered. Your man was back, and he looked sorry. 

You reached your small hand over his jaw, wiping away any sweat, blood or dirt from the eventful evening. “Bo.. baby... You are not a monster” recalling back to what he had said in the kitchen 15 minutes before. He just closed his eyes and kissed your hand as it came to his lips.

 “You don’t deserve what they did to you.” your free hand gently caressing his closest wrist, rubbing the hard scars of the past. It was hard for him to feel anything there from the damage of the nerves and the tough skin, but he knew what your hand was doing. Your touch and words almost made him tear up, no one was like you, you were his world. The only one that could calm him and save him from himself. Bo left his eyes closed not wanting you to see the salty water trying to escape.

He groaned as he pried himself off the table, his injuries beginning to sting and become sore. Grabbing the blanket off the couch he wrapped you in it and lifted you to bed, placing kisses on your forehead. Pulling you close in bed once he undressed and showered.

“I’m sorry” He quietly spoke “You’re my everything angel”                   

[awritingtree]

Burnout

Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Y/N has been pushing herself past the limit with school work. When Fred notices her unusual behaviour, he decides to intervene. But what happens when Y/N snaps and says some things that could possibly destroy their relationship and friendship?

Words: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, fluff?, mentions of anxiety attacks, lack of self-care

A/N: “What is this crap?” you ask. I don’t know myself 😂 this started off as one thing and ended up being something different. It really is not my best work. I don't know what I've written myself. I’m confused. Might delete it later, idk. But I hope you enjoy it xx

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“Good morning love,” Fred Weasley greeted his girlfriend with a kiss to her cheek as she sat down at the Gryffindor table on a Friday morning at the Great Hall.

“Hi,” Y/N Y/L/N mumbled quietly without looking at him. She reached out to grab a piece of warm toast and spread some butter on it before taking a bite. She poured herself a glass of milk, gulping it down as she munched on her piece of toast as quick as she could.

Fred frowned at Y/N’s unusual behaviour. She’d usually greet him back with an enthusiastic ‘good morning’ hugging him tightly, proceeding to make a joke which would make his laughter echo through the Great Hall on a quiet morning. He shrugged off her behaviour, reckoning she must be stressed about the Transfiguration test that afternoon.

Y/N continued to gobble up her food at a speed that was not healthy.

“Slow down, Y/N. We don’t need you choking early in the morning,” joked Lee Jordan, eliciting a chuckle from the twins.

“Shove off, Jordan,” Y/N clipped back. She shoved down the remaining bits of the toast before getting up and stringing her bag over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Fred asked.

“I need to go talk to Professor Flitwick about the assignment he gave the other day. I’ll see you guys later,” she said, leaving in a hurry.

This made Fred concerned, wondering what was going on with his girlfriend. She left without giving him a kiss goodbye; that never happened. Before he could ponder more on the topic, George pulled his attention back to a prank they’d been discussing throughout the week.

And the topic was forgotten. For now.

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Y/N sat close to the Black Lake in the company of Fred, George and Lee. Sitting cross-legged, she leaned her elbows on her knees, fingers tangled in her hair, pulling at it in frustration. Her eyes scanned the open books strewn around her, searching for something to write on the blank piece of parchment perched on her lap.

“You’re coming to Hogsmeade tomorrow, right Y/N?” asked the younger twin.

Y/N looked up, a confused look on her face. “Huh?”

“You’re coming to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” questioned George once again, dragging his words out slowly.

“Oh. Um no,” she said, her attention already back to the books in front of her.

Fred’s grin dropped into a frown, his eyebrows scrunching together. “What? You promised you’d come this time. You’ve missed out on every single Hogsmeade trip this year.”

“I have a lot of work to do,” Y/N replied, barely paying attention to the conversation she was a part of.

“You’ve been working since the beginning of the year. You need a break, love.”

“I can’t afford to take a break, Fred,” huffed Y/N, her eyes moving to look at the ginger beside her. The dark circles under her eyes looked more prominent in the evening light. The exhaustion and lack of sleep clear on her face.

“You’re being unreasonable. You can take one day off.”

“No I can’t,” snapped Y/N aggravated, “Just because you don’t care about graduating and your future, doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t either.”

Fred’s face contorted in anger, her words hitting straight home. He got up and stormed away without another word.

George and Lee looked at Y/N disappointed before leaving too, chasing after Fred. Y/N sighed before looking down at the blank parchment on her. She pulled at her hair as she let out a small scream of frustration. Tears that had started to gather in eyes began to flow down her cheeks. She tore the parchment into pieces, throwing it away. Y/N had begun to tremble as she pushed the books around her, attempting to throw them away from her. When there were no more books in close proximity, she curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, resting her forehead against her knees as she continued to cry.

Y/N’s fingers and toes beginning to freeze but her armpits and palms were sweating, feeling as if the temperature had been turned up a few notches. The world around her blurred out; no longer comprehending her surroundings. The only sound she could hear were her sobs as she gasped for breath. She could feel her heart thumping in her ears, the sound so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of her sobbing gasps. Her chest ached from the lack of oxygen. She could taste the salty tears streaming down her face onto her lips, feel the cold tears travelling to her jaw and down her neck. Any attempt to wipe her face clean was carried out in vain; the tears she wiped were replaced with double the amount.

“Y/N?” she heard a voice call out in the distance.

“Merlin! Y/N breathe with me okay?” the voice sounded nearer, however as if underwater, “Look at me. Y/N, look at me.”

A warm, soft hand rested on Y/N’s cheek guided her face to turn and face the voice’s owner. Y/N’s eyes focused onto the brown eyes of Ginny Weasley.

“You’re okay, Y/N. I’m here. Breathe. You can do that for me right?” she questioned softly, her voice still sounding underwater.

Y/N managed to get a small nod through her panic.

“Breathe in… 1 2 3... Breathe out… 1 2 3... Breathe in… 1 2 3... Breathe out… 1 2 3...” instructed Ginny, “Yes, just like that. Breathe… 1 2 3...” Y/N concentrated on listening to Ginny’s counts, attempting to breathe along with them. Soon enough, Ginny’s voice started to sound clear; Y/N feeling that her head was finally surfacing from the water she was drowning under. After a while, her breathing had started to regulate. A few gulps of air later, Y/N turned her attention to Ginny.

“Thank you,” Y/N muttered, quietly. She glanced away from the ginger-haired girl, not being able to hold eye contact due to the situation she had been caught in.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m just glad I walked by at this time,” said Ginny with a soft smile. Y/N returned a small smile of her own.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you sure? Can I do anything?” Ginny asked, concerned for her brother’s girlfriend; someone whom she saw as her own sister.

“Yes. I’m fine now. I- I think I just need to go and rest for a while. Thank you, Ginny. I’ll see you later,” she said, gathering up her books hastily and leaving.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Things had not gotten better the past few days. If anything, they had become much worse.

Fred and Y/N had not talked, only sparing glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. Though she had not mentioned what she had witnessed that day to anyone, Ginny was worried about Y/N; even more when she noticed her and Fred were currently not on speaking terms. George was concerned for both his twin and best friend; Fred was in a constant bad mood and Y/N looked worse for wear. The bags under her eyes looked darker, her skin beginning to turn sallow, her hair unkempt. George hardly saw her eating when she turned up to the Great Hall during any meal, sneaking a few bites in before leaving in a hurry. To say he was worried about her would be quite the understatement.

Y/N felt awful. She could barely get out of bed in the mornings. She was constantly tired, barely paying attention in classes. She couldn’t concentrate on anything, constantly wanting to do nothing but go back to bed. She continued to cry herself to sleep every night, like she had been for the past few weeks; the reason as to why she did not know. Her body ached all over, her head being the worst. She felt lethargic, not having any energy to even pick up a glass of water. She was falling behind on her work, her grades were slipping - they had been for quite a while.

Y/N knew she needed a break. But instead she continued to push herself, the thought of taking a break and falling even more behind or the idea that her grades would worsen not allowing her to have a moment of peace.

The fact that she was fighting with Fred, not having talked to him for a few days, was not helping. She knows she was in the wrong, she should apologize and tell him what’s going on. But for some reason, she didn’t want to admit that she was struggling. Not because she was egoistic, but because she felt she constantly had something to prove. Education was the only thing she excelled in, if she lost that she felt she would be nothing. She was embarrassed to ask for help; she did not want to appear to be a burden to him, to anyone.

“That’s enough!” said George one morning to his older brother. “You both can’t keep going on like this. You need to talk to each other, you’re both miserable.”

Fred sighed, looking away from his breakfast. “I know.”

“Well then, what are you waiting for!? She’s right there,” George said gesturing towards Y/N, sitting at the end of the table with Angelina and Alicia.

He knew he had to talk to her. Fred had noticed something was wrong for weeks now. He knew she was stressed out due to school, crumbling under the pressure and expectations she placed upon herself. But he didn’t want to force himself on her, so he’d decided to wait for her to approach him first. What she’d said had hurt him, no doubt about it, but he knew that she didn’t mean it. It was the outcome of a moment of anger. He had seen her the past few days around the castle too, struggling to carry on with her day. But he was afraid to walk up to her; afraid that she would lash out at him again. Afraid that the angry words that would follow, from both their sides, would worsen the situation.

Taking a deep breath, he walked down the table towards where she sat. Angelina sent him a small smile noticing him walk up to their small group. Fred paused for a moment, gathering up the courage to speak.

Y/N jumped at the unexpected sound of someone clearing their throat loudly behind her. She turned to see her boyfriend standing there, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked the same, a bit more troubled than she’d ever seen. He’d developed dark circles under his eyes; an indication he hadn’t been sleeping well, not that she had been either. Other than that, he still looked the same - the same boy that she’d fallen in love with.

“Can we- can we talk?” he asked nervously.

Y/N stared at him for a second before nodding. They both walked out of the Hall and through the corridor before entering an unused classroom. Fred shut the door behind him. The both of them did not speak a word, fidgeting as they gazed around the room, gazing everywhere except each other. Fred decided to take the initiative and start the conversation that was long due. But it seemed Y/N had made the same decision.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time. They both chuckled, the tension in the air disappearing.

Fred moved closer to Y/N, using the few seconds to come up with what to say.

“I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was completely out of line and I didn’t mean it. I could never mean something like that. You- you know I didn’t mean it right? I was just frustrated, and I know that still doesn’t excuse what I said but I’m sorry. I am so so so sorry,” said Y/N, tears brimming her eyes. She took a shaky breath trying to calm herself down.

Fred closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean what you said. I understand, love. It’s okay. Don’t cry, please,” he said softly, his thumbs drawing circles on the soft skin of her cheeks.

“I really am so-” Fred leaned down, cutting her off with a kiss. Y/N’s hand moved to hold Fred’s forearms before slowly moving up his arms to rest on his shoulders. Fred broke the kiss after a while, resting his forehead against hers as his hands moved down to her hips.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I know you’ve been stressed over school; I should’ve been more supportive.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, you-” Fred cut her off with another kiss.

“How about we both stop apologizing and just agree it was no one’s fault, purely circumstantial?” he said.

Y/N hesitated before sighing and nodding knowing she would not win. “Brilliant,” said Fred, pulling her close to wrap her up in a hug. They stood there for a while, basking in the feeling of being in each other’s arms - their favourite place to be in the world - after days.

“You know you can come to me for anything, right? No matter how small or stupid you think it is, you have nothing to be embarrassed about with me. And no, you will not be burdening me. I’d be more than happy to help you,” Fred said, pulling away from the hug but still keeping Y/N at a close distance in his arms.

Fred smiled endearingly at the look of surprise that crossed Y/N’s face as she looked up at him. She really thought she’d done a better job at hiding how she felt but it seemed like Fred had seen through everything, just like he always did.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? I care about you, Y/N,” Fred said, his hand tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear gently. His hand remained there, cradling her face, “I notice every miniscule thing about you, whether you want me to or not.”

Y/N averted her eyes, ashamed of herself. How could she ever think Fred would ever judge her badly? The boy whose eyes shined with love and adoration whenever his gaze fell upon her. The boy whose face lit up with the thought or mention of her. The boy who would be ready to give up anything and everything for her, including his dream of owning a joke shop.

“Just promise me you’ll take one day off,” Fred implored. “We can do whatever you want, wherever you want. You need to take one day to relax, love. You can’t keep overworking yourself like this.”

Y/N looked up and nodded with a smile. Fred smiled back, delighted with her compliance, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her skin.

“I love you.”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

If you enjoyed reading this fic, please like/comment/reblog! Your opinion/feedback is welcome, appreciated, and motivating :)

General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins @the-mighty-bookworm @chaoticgirl04 @malfoyspogue @dracofeltonmalfoy

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[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[p1harmonyofficial]

[📰] Get to Know the Members of K-Pop Group P1Harmony With These 10 Fun Facts! (Exclusive)

P1Harmony is a rising global K-Pop troupe, but we wanted Just Jared readers to get an exclusive chance to know them a little better!

The talented six-member boy group first arrived on the scene back in October of 2020, embarking on their international music career with the release of their first mini album DISHARMONY: STAND OUT and feature film, P1H: A New World Begins, which positioned the group as a force to be reckoned with in the music scene.

Amid the pandemic, the group continued to make new music for their fans with the release of their second mini album, DISHARMONY: BREAK OUT, including their slamming, hip-hop infused title track “Scared,”” along with an accompanying music video full of street-style dancing and intense visual effects.

Watch “Scared” and check out these 10 Fun Facts about P1Harmony inside!

INTAK

1. I have more eyelashes on my right eye than my left. Right after my debut, I didn’t really know how to remove eye makeup, so for a while, I used to just rub my eyes really hard with soap and now, I have more eyelashes on my right eye than my left. 2. I used to love oysters, but now I cannot eat it. I was an oyster fanatic, until very recently. I ordered raw oysters after watching a TV show at night with JONGSEOB, and after one bite, I couldn’t eat it anymore. The taste of the “sea” was so pungent. Now, I’m too traumatized! 3. I saved a man’s life. I went chestnut picking with my dad, and found a guy hanging on a cliff and struggling to get back up. We immediately helped him get up. He was really grateful and I remember feeling so proud to have saved someone’s life! 4. I have a small horizontal scar on the right side of my face, and I kind of like it. I got this scar when I was about four or five, and although it’s not that visible now, sometimes I like it because it makes me feel like a charismatic, bad guy! 5. I love dogs. I love dogs, so I have been watching a lot of dog-related videos but I’m terribly allergic. I can’t stop myself from petting them when I see them on the street, and always regret it afterwards because I turn all puffy and itchy! 6. I fantasize a lot about time travel. I even tried and feel like it can really happen one day! I lie down in my bed, put my blanket over my entire body and focus really hard on the idea, but this brings me nowhere but to the future. [Laughs] 7. I have a gold tooth. 8. I have a brown spot (mole) on my middle finger. 9. I love my Crayon Shin-chan character earphones. I get happy just looking at it. 10. I go to the convenient store so much that there isn’t anything I have not tried!

THEO

1. My right shoulder is more developed than my left. I used to play volleyball and would strike with my right arm, so my right shoulder is more developed than my left. 2. I have a red mole. I recently got a red mole on the side of my right neck, but I have no idea where it came from and why but it’s not going away! 3. I can’t burp, literally. I don’t know how to burp and have never burped in my life 4. I only drink carbonated drinks. I rarely drink anything that is NOT carbonated. 5. I don’t like lettuce and tomatoes in my burgers. 6. I had a burst appendix and didn’t know it for a while. I was hospitalized for two months, because they couldn’t find my appendix. Apparently, my organs are shaped and structured differently. 7. I love slippers. Unless I am going to an official engagement or doing promos, I am always in slippers, (even during winter)! 8. I have never cried in front of people until I turned 20. I was watching a very emotional episode of “Animal Farm,” and got caught crying in front of KEEHO, SOUL and JIUNG. Since then, I think I’ve gotten more emotional. I once cried watching JONGSEOB cry, too. 9. I can’t stay still when I’m on the phone. I have to walk around or do something when I’m on the phone. 10. I love singing songs to my friends over the phone.

JIUNG

1. I love Tonkatsu (pork cutlet). I have been addicted to tonkatsu these days and have been eating it almost every day for the last few months. 2. I have the same birthday as my younger brother. My younger brother and I share the same birthday, which is Oct. 7. We were also born around the same time. 3. My younger brother and I have a similar birth time as well. I think he was born like 8 minutes before me or after! 4. I love raw garlic and don’t like kimchi. 5. I only drink flat coca-cola. I purposely decarbonate my coke by shaking it and letting the air out multiple times until the bottle doesn’t expand anymore and the coke is completely flat. 6. I still fit into my hats from my adolescent years. My head is so small that I still fit into all my hats from elementary school. 7. I think too much. I make daily memos and write down almost everything to organize my thoughts. 8. I like to dance and sing when the streets are empty. When no one is around and I’m in a good mood. I love walking down the empty street thinking I’m shooting a music video. I sing, dance and act. Last time, I bumped into someone and I ran away in full embarrassment! [Laughs]. 9. I have a scar on my eye. 10. I may look picky, but I’m not a picky eater! I love trying a lot of different cuisines.

KEEHO

1. I love collecting sunglasses and glasses although my eyesight is near perfect. I love wearing glasses even though I don’t need them to see. I also have been collecting a lot of sunglasses lately. 2. I talk during my sleep, apparently! According to my members, I sleep-talk a lot (almost every night), but I don’t remember any of it and I never have dreams. 3. I have the same birthday as my dad! 4. I can eat salads all day. I love salads! I love eating vegetables, especially celery and carrots, and prefer dressings like ranch and oriental. 5. I am not good at smiling. I have a hard time smiling so I’m still in the process of learning how to smile naturally! I have to make sounds out loud to smile [during photo shoots]. 6. I used to hate wearing sweatpants. I don’t know why but I hated sweatpants and never wore them when I was younger― even if I had to wear something more uncomfortable like slacks or jeans.. Now, I wear them all the time! 7. I rarely cry alone or in front of people. The only person who has seen me cry is INTAK. I was going through something heavy and was alone at a park by myself when INTAK came to pick me up. He started crying as soon as he saw me, and that made me cry. 8. I used to pull all my loose baby teeth. I hated having something loose in my mouth, so instead of waiting to go to the dentist, I used to pull them out on my own. 9. I have a light (barely noticeable) mole on my big toe. 10. I have curly hair, so unless I blow dry it, it goes wild.

SOUL

1. I used to collect beetles. I think I had up to 30 beetles in one big box. 2. I only wear Air Jordans. I only wear Jordans and my favorite design is the Air Jordan 1s. 3. I love dolls! I love buying and collecting dolls. I like anything that is cute and fuzzy. 4. I don’t like taking pictures of humans except KEEHO. I only take pictures of nature, architecture or like a beautiful scenery. The only time I would take a picture of a human is of KEEHO. 5. Me and my younger sister found an important historical stone artifact. We were just digging stuff up and found a stone artifact. We later learned it was a historically valuable artifact, so we donated it to a museum. 6. I wear my pants backwards. 7. I don’t like electric fans. I don’t like when wind blows in my face 8. I once had the same dream three times in a row. I had the same dream three times in a row, but every ending changed depending on the choices I made [in my dream]. 9. A bird pooped on my head while I was on my way to school. Without having much reaction, I just walked to school and waited until I had to go to the bathroom to wash. 10. I don’t get scared or surprised easily. I used to get yelled at for bowing down and saying hi to all the actors playing zombies, monsters or ghosts at haunted houses in theme parks.

JONGSEOB

1. I like books that are thick and with small letters for no particular reason. I tend to buy books that are thick, whatever the genre is. I think it’s because I’m a fast reader. 2. I never had cavities! I love eating sweets like jellies and candies. I can go through a whole pack in one sitting, but I’ve never had cavities! 3. I have something called a “knee hyperextension and/or back knee. My knee bends backwards in a straightened position unlike many people. 4 I love the dark. I usually don’t turn on the lights unless I really have to. 5. I could sleep for long periods of time. I once slept up to 16 straight hours, and I barely have dreams. Maybe like five times a year?! 6. I don’t like/eat seaweed or seagrass. 7. I love walking into a room that is super cold. I turn on the A/C and close the door for about 30 minutes so it can be ice cold before I walk in. 8. I want to learn how to play bass guitar one day! I watch random videos of jam sessions, and one day would really like to play bass guitar. 9. My eyesight is different on both eyes. I am near-sighted on one, and far-sighted on the other. 10. I am pretty good at playing games on my phone.

[wxlfstxrx]

Your O'Knutzy writing is my favourite thing! I feel like Logan is very clingly...wanna write me so cute/soft headcanons abt it? Or when they boys are sick?:))))

hey hey, so i.... deviated... from the prompt I’M SORRY. like i was writing sick logan and somehow i couldn’t channel the clingy whiny part of him. maybe bc i get all awkward, guys-i’m-fine-stop-fussing when i’m sick sooooooo. honestly ngl this took a while to write, it’s been a rough two or so days and i’m just exhausted at the moment. it’s far from how i wanted it to be, but it’s bugging me and i want to post it, so here it is. hope you like it anyway! characters by @lumosinlove.

Logan wakes up one Sunday morning, head pounding and freezing his butt off. He has no idea what time it is, and he tries to open his eyes to check the time on his phone screen, but the moment he even tries to move, it feels like he’s going to throw up. 

His whole body hurts and he’s sweating under the covers, but he simply cannot find the energy to throw them off him.

Exhausted, he lets himself drift off into unconsciousness again, until he’s woken up by knocking on his door some time later. He groans, pulling his pillow over his head and hoping that whoever it is will stop fuelling his raging migraine.

When he hears Dumo’s worried voice, however, he sighs and musters up enough energy to yell a very hoarse and scratchy come in that makes him sound like a crying horse.

Dumo nudges the door open with his hip and enters the basement, holding a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of water with some pills in his hands. “How are you feeling, mon fils?” He asks softly as he approaches Logan’s bed.

“How—” Logan’s voice cracks and he coughs. “How did you know?”

“Well, five out of seven people in this house are currently down with the flu, and it’s currently eleven in the morning but you’re still not up yet. Wasn’t hard to figure that you’d be the sixth,” He shrugs, placing the tray on the cramped nightstand by his bed. He sits on the edge of the bed, and Logan scoots closer under the covers so Dumo can press the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Merde, you’re burning up. Do you want me to bring down some painkillers for you?” Dumo asks, frowning as he combs Logan’s long brown fringe back, away from his sweaty forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Dumo,” Logan rasps out, choking at the end as he dissolves into another round of coughs.

Dumo tuts, shaking his head worriedly as he clasps a hand on Logan’s shoulder before standing up. He mumbles to himself in French while he lets himself out of the room, and Logan buries himself further under the covers.

He wakes up again when a warm hand brushes his face, tracing across his cheekbone. He frowns and crinkles his nose, making an incoherent sound as he sniffles, trying to clear his blocked nose.

“Hey, did I wake you up?” A quiet voice asks apologetically, and Logan instinctively leans into the touch. Leo.

“Mmmm, but s’ok,” Logan whispers, his hand emerging from under the duvet to close around Leo’s wrist.

“How’re you feeling?” A second voice pitches in.

“What do you think?” He scoffs, turning his head for a moment so he can sneeze into his elbow. 

“Ooh, someone’s moody,” Finn’s grinning face comes into focus as Logan blinks a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He scowls, and Finn’s gaze softens. “Aww, I’m just teasing you, babe. C’mon, can you sit up?”

Leo slides a hand under Logan’s back and helps him shift into a sitting position, propped up against the headboard with the pillows cushioning his back. Finn picks up the bowl of soup and crosses over to the other side of the bed, carefully climbing onto the mattress and planting himself beside Logan, cross legged and facing him. 

He gives the soup a few good stirs with the spoon in his hand, squints at the bowl, and frowns. “It got cold.”

Without another word, he gets up and stalks out of the room. 

Logan blinks. “I could’ve just drank that. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Leo’s mouth quirks in a lopsided grin. “You know what he’s like. A complete baby at times, but he’s such a mom when it comes to things like this.”

Logan manages a weak laugh, which tapers off into a dry cough. “Fuck, I hate being sick.”

Leo grabs the glass of water and brings it up to Logan’s lips, and he closes his fingers around the glass, taking a few big gulps, letting out a satisfied ahhh when he drains the glass within the span of several seconds.

“Dumo called you two over?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“Mmhm, texted us saying you were ill, that the whole family’s ill, actually—” Leo tosses him a sympathetic look. “But yeah, Dumo’s alone in this, even Celeste can barely get out of bed, so we’re his reinforcements.”

He grins, and turns around as Finn re-enters the room with the same bowl of soup, now piping hot.

“Right, ‘m back, went to reheat the soup, Dumo’s a mess up there, with the kids just, y’know,” Finn rambles absentmindedly as he climbs back onto the bed, the soup sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the bowl.

“I swear, if you spill that…”

“I won’t, now stop talking and drink this,” Finn chides without malice. He scoops a spoonful of the scalding soup, lifts it to his mouth to blow on it gently, and turns his wrist so he can direct the spoon to hover right in front of Logan’s face.

“I— I can do it myself, Harz,” Logan splutters.

“I’m sure you can, babe, I’d be worried if you couldn’t. Now hurry up before I actually do spill this.”

Logan sighs and parts his lips, letting Finn tip the spoonful into his mouth. He sighs, closing his eyes as he feels the warm liquid slide down his throat, and he instantly feels a lot less groggy. 

Finn insists on feeding him the whole bowl of soup, whereas Leo helps to bring in a cold, damp cloth from the bathroom to press against Logan’s forehead. 

“Mes amours, I’ll be fine,” Logan awkwardly chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, not used to having people fuss over him like this. 

Leo gives him a strange look, and Finn grins. “You’re blushing! How adorable. I never thought I’d see the day where you’re embarrassed by people taking care of you.”

“No, I’m not,” Logan says indignantly, but Finn bursts out into laughter.

“You so are. I love this, oh my god.”

“Fuck you,” Logan rasps out, and does a weird, painful combination of a sneeze and a cough. 

“Okay, okay, let’s get some rest, hmm? But,” Leo points a finger at him. “Medicine first.”

Damn it.

Logan was hoping that they’d forget about it. He slowly slides downwards, further under the covers, and looks away when Leo holds out the pills in his hand.

“Wha— C’mon, babe,” Leo’s free hand attempts, and fails, to tug the covers off of Logan. “You’re not gonna recover if you don’t take your meds.”

“Don’t wanna,” Logan replies, voice muffled by the duvet covering his mouth.

“Is it the pills?” Finn frowns. “You still don’t take pills after all these years?”

Logan glares at Finn, who looks genuinely surprised for a moment, before he schools his expression, giving the brunette a small smile.

“Okay, okay,” He holds his hands up in front of him in surrender. “Hey, Peanut, give me those. I’ll be back.”

Leo hands Finn the pills, and the redhead leaves the room once again, Leo staring at the door closing.

He slides his hand beneath the duvet and locates Logan’s hand. He laces their fingers together, resting over Logan’s heart and he smiles at him tenderly.

“S’ok, mon chou,” He squeezes Logan’s hand, and he melts at how loving and caring his two boys are towards him. He lets himself snuggle closer to Leo, and Leo runs a hand through Logan’s hair soothingly, helping to ease his headache into a dull throb.

When Finn comes back into the room, grinning like the cheshire cat, Logan can’t help himself.

“What the fuck?” He croaks out.

“Is he allowed to eat that?” Leo asks, startled.

“Yeah, ice cream’s actually good for when you’re sick,” Finn answers, giving them a smug grin. He climbs back onto the bed, beside Logan, and hands him the bowl.

Logan eyes the two scoops of dark chocolate ice cream warily. “Where’re the pills, Harz?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Finn retorts with an exaggerated wink.

“You know,” Leo’s hand freezes and he leans closer to Logan’s ear. “You need to take your meds if you wanna be strong again, hmm? You’ll definitely need your strength for what I’ve planned for you.”

Logan shivers as Leo’s breath tickles his ear and the hand closed around his moves lower, trailing lightly across his abdomen.

“Playing dirty, eh, Peanut?”

“Oh, I’ll show you dirty,” Leo licks his lips, voice low and tone teasing.

Finn clears his throat and nods his head towards the bowl still in Logan’s hand.

“You’re gonna make me finish this, aren’t you?” Logan sighs defeatedly, rubbing his face against the sleeve of his hoodie wearily. 

Finn does a mock bow, which looks ridiculous considering he’s seated down, body half twisted to face him. “Any time now, Your Highness.”

Logan rolls his eyes, but lets go of Leo’s hand to pick up the spoon. He tries his best not to think about the pills buried somewhere within the scoops of ice cream, and he shovels spoonful after spoonful into his mouth while leaning against Leo’s side.

He reckons he tasted the bitterness of the pills at some points, but overall he has to admit that it’s better than he expected. Finn looks like a proud mom when Logan finishes the final scoop and leans his head back against Leo’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut.

Leo pulls the empty bowl out of Logan’s hands and turns around to place them on the nightstand. 

“How’re you feeling, baby?” Finn whispers, moving closer so he can wrap an arm around Logan’s shoulders. 

Logan just nods and hums a noncommittal response, full and warm and satisfied. He feels Leo adjusting his position so they’re lying side by side on the bed, Logan in Finn’s arms and Leo spooning him from the back. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs into Finn’s chest, feeling his mind drift in and out of focus once again.

A soft kiss is pressed onto the top of his head, and he mentally thanks Dumo for calling his boys, his perfect boys, over to the house. He feels much better now; his head has almost completely stopped pounding, he’s stopped sweating through his hoodie, and he feels loved. 

Logan falls right back asleep with a smile on his face, not even stirring when the door creaks open and Marc stumbles in, piling on top of the boys, right between him and Finn. He definitely doesn’t stir when Dumo stands in the doorway with his phone out to snap a picture of the four boys huddled together on the bed, tired beyond belief, but with the biggest smile he’s ever had all day.