#cautiously putting this in guy's tag. hope that's ok

[chuckiescrafts]

The initial first rough sketches of the teen version of my little cringe DC OC baby.

My little Guy Gardner baby.

I love Buddy.

[drpeppertummy]

@eructophile BULLYING my little guy

[ID: tags reading "[evil unrealistic brain voice] ok now put him in a bath that's hot enough to make them expand in his guts."]

this is the first thing ive written in 500 years its not very good pwease forgive me

[post-stuffing, bloating, tummyache]

"Alright, I can't eat any more," Morty whispered into the mic. "I was full, like, ten marshmallows ago." He rested a hand on his belly under the table and rubbed it gently, trying to soothe the gurgly queasiness that was blooming in his overstuffed stomach. He'd gone through more marshmallows than anybody had any business eating in one sitting for the sake of ASMR, and he felt like a living couch cushion, stuffed with fluff until his poor belly was firmly filled out. He supposed it wouldn't be a very comfortable cushion, though; it felt taut and hard under his hand.

"Thanks for watching, see you next time…" He rattled off his usual goodbyes, ended the video, and promptly flopped back in his seat with a heavy sigh. Looking down, he saw his full tummy poking out noticeably against the colorful fabric of his oversized sweater. It rumbled unhappily, and he rested both hands on it. He sat there for a few minutes, desperately wanting to leave the uncomfortable wooden chair behind but feeling far too stuffed to move, the silence of the kitchen interrupted periodically by the grumbling and gurgling of his aching tummy and the cold wind blowing outside.

Finally, with a groan, Morty pushed himself out of the chair. His stomach felt a dozen times tighter now that he was standing, and he held it cautiously, unable to hold back a tiny moan of discomfort. Not bothering to touch the lengthy video he'd recorded, he trudged off to the bathroom to run a bath. It was freezing out, and even indoors with his cozy sweater, the sound of the weather outside alone was enough to make him shiver. He hoped a hot bath might help soothe his sore tummy, but if nothing else, it would at least warm him up.

It occurred to Morty that waiting for the tub to fill would be a perfect opportunity to go back and start uploading his video, but now that he was seated on the edge of the tub, slumped against the wall, he simply couldn't find the strength to get up. Finally, though, the tub was as full as his aching stomach, and he clumsily undressed and eased himself in. The hot water enveloped him like a hug, and he let out a soft sigh. Morty hated being cold. If he had the choice, he'd gladly spend all of winter in bed wrapped up in blankets or dozing off in a hot bath. The warmth was comforting on his belly, too, and, after shifting around a little, he laid his head back and closed his eyes.

While the hot water had brought some relief to his overstuffed tummy at first, the comfort didn't last long. As he lay there, submerged save for his bony knees and his head, Morty became aware of an increasing feeling of bloatedness. He held his hands against his belly, brow furrowed with discomfort, and tried to burp. Only a tiny one came up. It didn't help. He tried again, desperate to alleviate the uncomfortable pressure, but to no avail. His stomach let out a strained groan. It felt absolutely stretched to its limit, and only seemed to be getting tighter. It was as if everything inside him was swelling up, expanding and bulging and filling out his already-stuffed tummy until the pressure was too much to handle. He opened his eyes and looked down. His belly pushed out comically from his skinny torso, almost threatening to break the surface of the water.

It finally occurred to Morty that the heat was making the contents of his stomach expand, and he supposed the smart thing to do would be to get out of the bath. The idea of leaving the comfort of the hot water and returning to the chilly air seemed immensely unpleasant, though, and he pondered how much more the enormous mass of marshmallow inside him could possibly swell. He ran a hand over his belly. It was drum-tight, and his stomach felt like it was straining to hold itself together.

Finally, Morty decided he couldn't take it anymore. His tummy felt stretched to bursting, and the discomfort of the cold seemed less daunting now than the discomfort he was currently enduring. Groaning, he pulled himself out of the tub and quickly wrapped himself in a towel, shivering. Leaving his clothes behind, he shuffled quickly to his room and hastily dried himself off before tossing the towel aside to pull on his pajamas. While his sweaters were all a few sizes too big, his pajamas were not, and the soft shirt barely covered his distended belly. He tugged at it, bewildered, then shrugged, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and trudged back to the kitchen to deal with his video.

[aliorsboxostuff]

ok so imagine ftm reader x joel in the apocalypse. because i just know being trans in an apocalypse is NOT fun. you can make the prompt however specific as you want but i just thought that would be such a cool and interesting idea for a fic. :)

A/N: GOD ANON SUCH A GOOD IDEA yk i'm gonna put a bit of my own experience as a trans man (that went through 7 hrs of a con w binders on… *shivers*). As always, please excuse the mistakes as english is my 2nd language and enjoy Anon!

Join You.

Tags: HBO Joel Miller x ftm!Reader, Reader uses He/Him pronouns, Trans and in an apocalypse? Can't get any worse, oh wait yes it can, Binding struggles, fluff, meet-cute(?), Do you count meeting a dad and his kid cute?, maybe, It’s Joel and Ellie of course they’re cute, meeting, humor, Snarky!Ellie, tired-dad!Joel, soft ending, no angst, maybe a bit, it is EP.3 after all, slight OOC

[Starts from the end of Ep.3 of The Last of Us] Meeting a stone-cold man and his curious stray kid wasn't really on your apocalypse agenda, neither was falling in love with him. But then again, when has life ever gone your way? Hell, even god fucked up from when you were born, mixed up the damn gender. So here you are, helping him and his kid ready themselves to head to Wyoming, while you hitch a ride. Maybe it’ll do you some good, finally finding company with another human being

—

God why was it so hot?

While you keep hauling what remains of your backpack through the path, the sun beats down on you. Despite pulling off your hoodie, now left in only a shirt, the heat threatens to boil you whole. The sides of your binder digs in slightly and it makes moving another endeavor. The two bottles of water inside your bag are quickly diminishing with every break you take, now only half of one bottle remains.

You groan, eyes becoming hazy with every blink, when suddenly, you spot a chain-linked fence meters in front of you. A shot of energy courses through you as hope rises, quickly jogging to the area while you wave your hands, but trying not to make a sound in case any infected comes running by. 

You stopped just shy of the chain link, glancing at the high-voltage sign. You've been electrocuted once, you're not about to get electrocuted twice. You opted to look around instead, glancing at the various put-together houses, and the church in the far corner of the neighborhood. Despite the leaves littering the streets, flowers bloomed encircling the town's middle. You turn your head to find a way in, maybe a chance for you to vault over without getting burned, or maybe dig underneath-

"Turn around." 

You freeze. The hairs on your nape start to rise, heart rate following suit as a bead of sweat drops. "Turn around, and drop your bag. Slowly." 

You gulp, carefully moving one foot and the other until you fully turn, now face to face with a gun trained at your head, behind it, a man with eyes sharp enough to cut through skin is ready to pull the trigger at sight. Your eyes cautiously glance at the girl behind him, the same vicious stare with a sharp knife in her hand. 

As instructed, you slip your backpack and hear it hit the ground, before the man tilts his head, indicating for you to kick it away, and so you did. 

"Drop your weapons,"

"I don't have a gun," Your voice wavers, hands shaking slightly as it hovers beside you, a surrender you’re hopeful the man will take. He doesn't. 

"Drop anything other than a gun, then," He leaves no room for negotiations. You blink, before taking out the pocket knife and knuckle dusters from your pocket, throwing them to his direction. The guy raises his brow at the items and you shrug, still hesitant despite trying to appear nonchalant. 

With the gun still aimed at you, he picks both of the weapons up, storing them, before he stands again. "What's in the bag?" 

"Some… Canned food, water bottles, a lighter, other stuff," 

"How did you find this place?"

"I just…" Now that, you wondered yourself. You remembered leaving your group when a sketchy religious guy showed up and everyone started preaching to him, going nowhere in particular, just out of the growing conservative group and somewhere safe. Wandering for weeks before stumbling here, thinking you finally found another group willing to accept your scrappy ass. "I don't know, I don't even know this place existed, I was wandering around then came across…" You tilted your head back to the fence.

A pause. The man then speaks in a hushed tone with the girl, before they both nodded, the girl evidently less cautious after the whispers. "Empty your bag." 

You did as so, slowly reaching for the pack and unlatching the top, turning it upside down and letting the contents drop. Bottles, food, plasters, your lighter, a torch, other knick-knacks you couldn't resist picking up, all falling to the ground. When a flutter of paper falls, the girl perks slightly, before she retreats when you noticed. "I-I'm alone-"

"How do we know you're alone?" 

Your eyes looked around before you shrug. "I… Got separated from my group. A weird guy joined us and separated some people, and he uh… Kicked me out. Im alone, I promise, I don't have anyone following me from my group or from… Anywhere,"

Another pause. He seems to turn the info around his mind, before he looks back at the girl, she only does the same.

"Alright." He nods, eyeing the clutter on the ground. "Walk, slowly, away from the fence." 

Taking steps away from the chain until your position and the man change, you stand far from the fence while he and the girl stands just a meter away. He nods to the girl and she nods back. Now, her dark eyes are focused on you, while the man unlocks the gate to the place. 

"What's with the book?" She jerks to the opened pages on the ground.

"Just a journal. Keeps the mind sane," She hums, then you hear a click of the fence being opened. The man ushers the girl in, before he looks back at you, standing defenseless outside just meters away, disheveled and wary. He huffs.

"Get in here, quick," 

Your face beams. "Thank you, so much," You breathe before picking up your bag and contents, then jogging inside and the man locks the gate again. 

The neighborhood looks as if lived in, despite the run-down houses except one that stands grand and white a couple of streets down. "You two live here?"

"No, someone we know does," The girl answers. The man begins walking to the house, the girl following loosely behind him, before she turns.

She still has a hint of caution in her eyes, yet she asks, "What's your name? I'm Ellie, that's Joel," 

"Pleasure meeting you Ellie, Joel," Ellie grins, Joel doesn't turn. You give her your name, at which she smiles before looking past you.

"Do you write often?" 

"Just for fun, nowhere to publish it anyways," 

She nods. "What do you write about?"

"Stuff I see, birds, leafs, interesting flowers I pass by," You begin walking towards the house as well, following them. "I have pressed dried flowers in there," 

"Pressed dried? Like you have dead flowers in your journal?"

"Sure," You grin as she chuckles, turning around when Joel opens the house's gates and motions for Ellie to stop, so you do too.

"I'm checking inside first. You-" His eyes meets yours, you gulp. "Stay here, look out for any infected," 

"In here? This is basically a fortress," 

"Once I'm done, then I'll call you," You only nod, afraid to aggravate Joel even further. You'd hate to appear annoying to a man that offered you safety. 

Minutes pass, you idle outside, taking in the scenery. There are flowers in fitted pots, already dry and dying. The fence that surrounds the house Joel and Ellie still looks put together, the paint scraping would indicate age but otherwise looks fine. There's a brown garage door off the side. You wonder if it stored any vehicles. 

Suddenly, Joel storms outside, making you jump. His otherwise stoic face has a sheen layer of pain, of apprehension, before you spotted a piece of paper in his hand. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, before he turns and crumples the paper. You stand to the side, nearing the gates, while Joel takes his time gathering himself. The urge to ask, to comfort, almost overwhelms you before he speaks. "Help me check the car,"

A key dangles in his hand, and you follow suit. He opens the garage door, and you move to the back of what looks like a covered car. Sure enough, once you and Joel pull the cover up, a blue pick-up comes into view. "Nice," you smooth your hand on the rear door. Then suddenly, a sharp bang from the front, Joel closes the engine harder than needed. You gulp.

Contemplation appears on Joel's face again. You didn't dare to move. His eyes search the room, until it lands on something out of your view, on top of a refrigerator. His eyes track down, then he stalks to said fridge and opens it. Seems like he finds what he was looking for and Joel closes it back.

“You can't come with us.”

“What?” It sounded small, way too small to your liking, until you realized it was your voice.

“We’re going to Wyoming, either way there’s no space for-”

“Please, Joel,” You find yourself leaning towards him, your knuckles white on the trunk of the car. “I don't- I have nowhere to go,” Joel opens his mouth to interject before you continue; “And I'm not asking to join you, and Ellie. I just…” You inhale sharply.

“Please let me go with you two, to Wyoming. Then just leave me there.” You blink the growing panic back down. “Just a ride. Then I'll be off your backs. I promise,” 

The man standing meters away from you, hand still firmly on the edge of the fridge, eyes dark and stone cold, ponders over your words. You can practically feel the consideration, the slight glance from him when he meets your eyes, before he turns to the door, then back to you. “Just a ride,”

“Just a ride. You have my word.”

Then, painstakingly slow, he nods then walks to exit the garage, making you exhale a relief breath. "Check the fuel, I'll go check on Ellie," 

You simply nodded as he exited the garage. You go and check the fuel from the meter inside the car first, then find it empty. For safety reasons, you think. So you check around the garage for any fuel canisters. You found a couple behind some boxes, so you pulled them out to ready them when Joel needs it.

You deem it enough snooping around so you return to the house, just in time to hear Ellie ask, "So what now?" 

You knock on the door lightly, to alert the two, and Ellie glances at you. You two share a look at Joel, before he huffs. “We grab what we can,” 

He passes you, taking note of your curiosity, before he goes through the house with you and Ellie in tow. He goes through a couple of rooms, before he pulls at a hatch and it gives in, a staircase leading to what you presume was a basement. 

Upon entering, the room is lit up with working LEDs. You and Ellie spotted the wall of guns first, you blowing a low whistle. “Ho-ly shit.” Ellie’s eyes were on the many firearms mounted neatly.

“This guy’s a genius,” She grins and looks around. Your hand reaches for a mounted shock gun, almost touching it, before you retreat when you hear Joel messing with the other things in the room. You noted a steady hum of music, something you could recognize but not pinpoint. Ellie turns to walk over to where Joel was looking at the monitors.

“Why was the music on?”

“If he didn't reset the countdown every few weeks,” His eyes went over something. “This playlist would run over the radios,”

“‘80s…” The two share a look of realization, you can visibly see Joel gulp.

“Grab some cans from over there,” Joel points behind him. “Nothin’ dented, or swollen,” He mainly points it out to Ellie as she moves, but his eyes linger on you so you also get moving.

“Dude,”

“No.” You turn around to spot Ellie standing near the wall of firearms. 

“There’s a wall of them,” And she’d be right, but Joel only fixed her a stare that made her nod in defeat, almost making you giggle. Joel goes back to the monitors while you and Ellie search through the cans.

You’ve emptied most of the top shelves, leaving the clearly dented ones, while Ellie picked apart the bottom half, looking at each label with fascination. Once you’ve got your pack full, you crouch near her when she looks at one with interest. 

“‘Chef Boyardee’,” You smile as she turns to you. “They got great taste,” 

“Is this what you all eat?” She asks both you and Joel as she turns to face him. “Like, before the infection thing,”

“Well, most foods weren't in cans, if that's what you’re asking,” You absentmindedly pick at one of the cans' labels, already peeling. “Big shops, grocery stores, would sell raw stuff so you can cook them,”

“Cook anything?” Her eyes gleam, making you huff out a chuckle. 

“Sure, as long as there's a recipe, I for one can't cook for shit,” She chuckles, before putting the can into her bag. As you and Ellie make your way upstairs, you pass Joel whose eyes soften as you let Ellie climb up first.

Ellie found a bag and she scurries off to shove toilet paper in it. You made your way into the bathroom to find the medicine cabinet fully stocked. “Fuck yeah,” 

You grab all that your arms can fit and run back to where Ellie was emptying the storage room. Setting all the medicine and emergency kit into the bag, you head back to look under the sink of the bathroom to find a couple of tampons and pads. Another victory. As you reach your hand into the cabinet, a roll of body tape falls out. Checking back to hear Ellie's busy with her work, you stuff the tape into your pocket and head out with the packs of pads and tampons.

Ellie looks up from where she’s hunched inside the storage area. “Hell yeah,” She nods as you stuff the packs into the bag.

Joel emerges from the bunker and heads upstairs just as you and Ellie finish filling up the bag. Ellie follows Joel and so do you, still contemplating what the girl is to Joel or who Joel is to Ellie. Though you shrug it off when Joel opens a door into a worn room, decorations vary on the walls but he beelines into, what you presume, is a closet. He opens it and looks around, clicking a light on, before he settles on a box and pulls it out, setting it on the bed.

The box is labeled ‘Women's shirt, SM-MED’ so Ellie looks through it. She pulls out a red shirt that she fits over her front to make sure, before she glances at you. You only nod in approval, giving her a thumbs up, making her grin and set the article aside.

Joel emerges with a box labeled ‘Long Sleeve Shirts’ and goes back in. You stood opposite of Ellie between the bed, hesitant to touch the box, before Ellie took it first and opened it. She notices your hovering hand and falters on the flaps. “Oh, you wanna take this one?”

“Those won't fit him,” Joel barks from inside the closet, almost making you jump. But instead, his tone is like poking fun at you, so you roll your eyes, huffing.  

“Haha, real funny man,” Your hand reaches back for the box Ellie was opening, before another box abruptly drops next to your hand, affectionately labeled ‘Mens shirt, SM-MED’.

“This could,” His eyes met yours before he ducks back into the closet. 

You stand, almost in shock, elevated from both relief and happiness as it blooms inside you. The box is still closed, sitting just far from you, and the label almost makes your eyes gloss. You swallow a heavy lump, before you notice Ellie's fleeting glance from you to the box, then back to you. “Go ahead dude, those would be way too big for me,” She shrugs.

And so you went through the box and picked out the articles you deemed good enough to fit your form. 

After sorting through the box of clothes, the three of you make your way into the garage. You stand near the door in order to not step in Joel's way while Ellie pokes around, but if you were being honest with yourself, you just wanted to admire the dynamic between Ellie and Joel. Joel has found an all-purpose charger, hooking it up to the car battery. After a minute, the charger begins to work as he surveys it. “Needs another hour,”

“They have hot water!” Ellie cheers as she turns on a faucet from the other end of the room. “I’m takin’ a shower,” She declares as she begins to make her way to where you're standing.

“Then you’re showering, cuz’ seriously,” She huffs, making a disgruntled face at Joel, which made you chuckle. Joel only deadpans as she moves past you. “You too!” She hauls back as she absentmindedly points in your direction.

That made both of your eyebrows shoot up, sputtering for an answer. Your eyes briefly meet Joels, a slight smirk tugging on his lips, before you yourself huffed out a laugh. “I should…” You falter, unable to think of an excuse, before jogging to join Ellie in the house.

Ellie finished her shower quickly, clad in the red shirt she picked and the long sleeves she must've taken out of the box. When she exits the room to find you waiting in the hallway, your pile of clothes a bit taller than her, and arches a brow. “A lot of layers,”

“I get cold easily,” You shrug, making her nod and promptly go downstairs. 

After making sure the door locks, you start to discard your tattered clothes, pulling out your hoodie to also discard it, sticky with grime and dirt. You carefully set your binder on the sink and finally relish the feeling of steady water beating down your body.

Once you’re dry with a towel hanging on your hips, you take out the body tape and fasten a makeshift binder, not too tight to avoid any mishaps. Your dirty binder has been washed under the faucet, so it's now wrung dry enough to be in a plastic bag and shoved into your pack. You put your hair in a towel wrap while you put on deodorant, then the clothes you picked out, zipping up the pants and fastening a belt around it. Pulling on the top, then a t-shirt over it, before a jacket to top it off. You pull off the towel from your hair, leaving it damp enough for it to dry in the wind.

As you walk to the door, a mirror stands just next to it. You spot your reflection, no longer with streaks of dried blood and dirt, hair array from days without proper cleaning. A man with deep eye bags but an otherwise put-together demeanor stares back. You smile, arranging your drying hair a bit, before exiting the room. 

You meet Ellie downstairs, looking around and touching the various items scattered about the still-warm house. You make your way to the dining table, and the unfinished food on the table makes a gnawing feeling in your gut appear. Not the rotting stench, but something significant happened here, if you could judge the wine glasses sat neatly next to each other, now supporting dust instead of its usual amber contents. You swallow down the feeling of what has happened and instead take a seat in the vacant area of the table, pointedly away from the rotting food. As Ellie paces around, you take out your book, flipping through the pages of various notes and entries you’ve written.

You pick out one dried lily you pressed months ago. “See? Dead flowers,” Ellie turns to you, before she spots the flower you’re holding and chuckles.

“There's a lot out front y’know,” She adds. You hum and nod, before returning back to your pages. 

Joel enters the house just as you turn a page. You smile, nodding to the stairs behind the dividing wall. “Showers all yours,” You said. He assesses you, taking a second too long which makes you break eye contact, our eyes back to your book, a steady heat growing on your face. Then he glances at Ellie before he nods and heads to the stairs. Ellie gives you a look once, twice, before she smirks and continues her poking. 

A couple of minutes passes, before you hear a sequence of steps, a muffled ‘oh shit’ maybe coming from Ellie, then you pick your head up from the deep pages and find Ellie standing in front of Joel, combed back curls, highlighting his steadily graying edges, beard shaved neatly, a fitting plaid t-shirt and dark jeans are what he picked from the box, it seems. “Well, don't you look pretty,”

“I agree,” Ellie joins before you can explode from the embarrassing compliment you sputter out. 

“Shut up,” Joel answers, throwing the deodorant you wore earlier into Ellie’s hands. You don't miss the tint of red on Joel's ears, highlighted by the sun coming from the front door. 

“Nice,” She begins to put it on, before you gape. 

“Wait, you didn't put it on?”

“What, I didn't see it!” She retorts, putting the cap back on. 

“Ellie, ew,” The girl throws the deodorant at you, which you caught easily, both of you giggling. 

“Come on you two,” Joel huffs from the door. Ellie quickly puts her pack on as you put your book inside yours, securing it on your back. 

You help Joel with the gear on the pick-ups tub, making sure it’s secured and putting the water-proof tarp over it. Joel and Ellie get in the car as you open the garage door, then slide in yourself into the back seat. Ellie’s eyes practically shine as she prods at the car's dashboard, pulling down the vanity mirror, then messing with the rearview before she pushes it, promptly displaying you in the backseat and Joel next to her.

“It’s your first time in a car?” He stares at the curious girl.

“It’s like a spaceship,” She answers, still in a trance as she prods at the AC flap. 

“No, it's like a piece of shit Chevy S10,” Joel’s answer makes you chuckle from the back seat, rearranging your pack. “But it’ll get us there, I think.”

“Seatbelt,” Ellie turns to Joel, a slight confusion in her eyes, before Joel sighs and pulls the belt over her then hands the rest to Ellie. “Seatbelt.”

She grins, then clicks the seatbelt in place. “So cool,”

You grin from where you’re sat, Joel spotting you from the rearview mirror, your eyes meet briefly which makes you duck your head, settle into the seat and promptly look out the window. Joel starts the car and it hums to life, you can feel the engine purring from the recharged battery and fuel. 

Ellie fumbles and opens the compartment under her, pulling out a cassette tape. Joel notices the girl grinning from what she found. “Would ya leave it,”

“Put it back. Ellie,” Joel's exasperated tone only spurs Ellie more as she slides it into the radio, already pressing play. Your grin matches Ellie's as a melody begins to fill the car, eyes on the various houses you pass. Ellie clearly doesn't recognize the song, her hand reaching for the stop or skip button, before Joel perks up.

“No, no, leave it. This is good,” He says, turning the car to where the gate is meters away. “This is Linda Ronstadt, y’know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

“You know I don't know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Her deadpan expression makes you chuckle, leaning into the comfy seat as you settle into the song. Joel, as if looking for support, spots you from the rearview and arches a brow. You only shrug with a smile on your lips, nodding. 

“Oh man,” Joel glances at the radio, the gate already in front of the car.

“Eh, it's better than nothing,” Ellie smiles, glancing out to the glowing fields, the evening sun already basking its shine on the earth. You sigh, entranced by the singer's voice, clearly to Joel's liking. He pushes the code for the gate and it opens. He puts the remote back, and advances forward, into the road in front.

—

It's been months since your first meeting with Joel and Ellie.

Now, settled into Jacksons easy living commune, you live just next door to Joels and Ellies.

You remembered when they both left some weeks ago, something about looking for a lab, but you didn't catch why. You remembered the way Ellie clung to you as they were getting ready to leave. She's grown fond of you, sharing the same humor and references, even if you’re still years older than her. So when her hands shook as it digs into your jacket, you pull her closer as well, letting her bury her head into the crook of your neck. Then you pressed a kiss on her forehead, mumbled ‘Stay safe,’ before she let go then headed to her horse. Then there was Joel.

Joel, who you were once scared of. Who you helped with gathering wood for the fire. Who you shared breakfast with the morning after leaving those houses. Who you caught smirking at Ellie's joke. Who you ran with when Wyoming went to shit. Who let you stay with him and Ellie without you asking, moving through that insane city until you found the brothers. Who you watched bury them when Sam turned. Who was the gracious ticket that let you into Jacksons. 

Whom you’ve grown feelings for. 

When he was about to leave, you were hesitant to touch him. Anything beyond a helping hand on his arm or shoulder was a breach, so you’ve always kept your hand to yourself. That's what you thought until Joel pulls you into him, almost pushing all of the oxygen out of you. You returned the embrace with equal strength, blinking away the worry gathering in your eyes. It lasted long enough before he pulled back and joined Ellie on the horse. The massive gates opened just slightly, before the two exits, unknown to you how long they’ll leave. Or if they’ll even come back.

But they did, with the two closer than ever.

Now, the three of you simply live in Jacksons. A shout away from each other. Sometimes Ellie would come by, unannounced of course, and hang on your couch while you do chores. Sometimes she’ll look around your collection of books that you salvaged from each import of stuff every month. She’ll find something that interests her and borrow it, bringing it back to her house. On the rare chance that you cook, she’ll stay to eat, asking if you made the food yourself or if it came from a recipe. You'd bat at her arm, saying ‘Of course it’s from a recipe Ellie, y’know I’ll burn the house down.’ And she'll laugh.

Sometimes she brings Joel over. He stays for coffee while Ellie is busy with something. Sometimes you two talk, about something or nothing. About the on-goings of Jacksons. About your shift at the community school and theater. About his shifts on patrols and fixing up old buildings for repurposes. Sometimes just to sit and drink, basking in the pure joy of watching Ellie scuttle around, finding things of interest, and asking you questions about your latest project. Those times are when he’ll shuffle closer, hesitant near your lax stance as you laugh at what Ellie said. He’ll put his cup down and carefully, oh so slowly, brush his hands against yours, and you’ll blink, red steadily growing up your neck. You smile then, relaxing your hand, letting Joel set the pace. Then finally, in the privacy of your house, between Joel and you, he laces his fingers with yours, the warmth of his hands burns yours. But you endure, even welcoming his slightly shaking hold, and you’ll squeeze tight. You turn your head to meet Joel's dark browns, the creases on the side of his eyes dent slightly as he smiles, and you smile too, dropping your head to his broad shoulder. 

Then Ellie would look at your entwined hands and scoff. “That's so gay,” 

Joel would immediately cross his arms while he retorts that she is also gay, and Ellie would quip back another snarky response. You’d laugh, holding your middle and trying not to stumble from where you stand. 

Requests are open

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Vantalaður Ást

Ivar Lothbrok x F!Reader

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

A/N: So this fic is coming to a close! 17 chapters in total it’s come to. From this moment on btw I didn’t plan any of this shit. It’s just poured out of me and really, I kinda like how it went down. I hope you guys too 😬 Thank you @acrossthesestars for being my personal word and grammar corrector!

Warnings: I am no expert with how to deal with a drug overdose. We just need to remember this is fiction and I do probably make it lighter than it should be, while still trying to convey it’s not easy at all. Follows on from the previous chapter so hospital mention, nightmares, swearing, Hvitserk needs help, food mention, minor character death mention. Feels.

Word Count: 3721

Tagging: @ivarisms @majesticwren @a-bang-for-your-bucky @youbloodymadgenius @kaybee87 @punkrocknpearls @istorkyou @smears-and-spots @bulmabhadie @southernbe @ironynoticony

Carefully, you braided Hvitserk’s hair as he lay in the hospital bed. The sheets were so white they almost hurt your eyes in the harsh light. You spoke to him the whole time, repeating gossip from the nurses station you'd overheard and telling him how his brothers were doing. You needed him to wake up though. The nurse said they would be reducing his sedatives soon, which felt promising. Looking up at movement by the door, your face broke into a smile.

“Harald,” you said. He twirled his hat in his hands, approaching the bed cautiously, his eyes on Hvitserk.

“How are you doing?” He asked in that gruff voice of his. You got up, fighting a fresh wave of emotion as he embraced you, his arm tightening around your middle in a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m all right,” you finally answered. “It’s been a while since I saw you.”

“Yeah, been busy.” You gripped his hand, grateful that someone from the station had finally come to visit. Sighing, you gave his hand a slight shake before sitting back in your seat and continuing to braid Hvitserk’s hair. “How are the boys at the station? Oh! Can you tell Thora she can come visit, though maybe she should wait now...” you said more to yourself. Because if all went well, Hvitserk would be waking up today.

“Thora?” His voice was strained when he said her name and you wondered if you’d just spilled their secret.

“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Her and Hvitserk are dating,” you finished, ending your sentence with a slight, embarrassed wince.

“Aye, I knew.” You placed a hand on your chest and gave him a wide smile over your shoulder.

“Ok, thank the gods. I thought I’d just ruined everything for them. I just didn’t want her to be put off because I was here all the time. I thought she’d have stopped by, is all.” Segmenting another strand of hair, you waited for Harald to reply, only looking up when the silence stretched unnaturally.

“You don’t know,” he rubbed his hand over his scratchy beard, groaning a bit. He turned away from you and bowed his head. You eyed the rope of his thick braid between his shoulders, trying to keep your heart rate steady and steel yourself for the unknown.

“Harald?” He turned back to you, pulling his lips against his teeth before he spoke.

“That fire.”

“The one the last week? The apartment building?” His shoulders sagged slightly and he nodded, running a nervous hand over the top of his braid.

“Thora lived in that building.” You frowned, sure that wasn’t the reason for the heavy sadness in his eyes.

“Is she ok?”

“No,” was the only reply he gave. He settled a hand on your shoulder as you gazed down at Hvitserk, putting the pieces together in your mind.

“Oh!” Brushing some hair out of his pale face you desperately tried to keep your tears at bay. “Why weren’t we told?” You asked Harald through a clenched jaw.

“I assumed you knew.”

“How did you not notice Hvitserk was missing? He’d been in his apartment festering for what looked like days!”

“I gave him leave. He pulled her from the fire and she died in his arms out on the street. The least I could do was give him time off.” Your mouth opened in a silent cry as pain lanced through your heart, hating yourself for not noticing there was something wrong sooner. For being a shitty best friend and for Harald to not tell you something this momentous.

“And you didn’t think to inform his brothers? Or—or me?” He spread his arms in a defensive gesture, backing up a step as you rose from the bed.

“I thought he was going to tell you! How was I supposed to know?” He cried.

“Look at him!” You hissed, throwing your arm to point at the still figure in the bed. “You did this.” Stepping right up to him, you placed a finger to his temple. “You are responsible for the state that he is in right now and I will never forgive you!” He grunted when you pressed hard, pushing his face away from yours. “I hope you never forget this. He could have died!”

“Ástinvur?” Turning your tear filled gaze to the door you saw Ubbe eyeing the exchange with interest. “What have you done now Harald?” He asked with an air of trying to diffuse the situation.

“I was just leaving,” he mumbled, casting a sideways glance at you. “If there’s anything I can do…”

“Trust me, you’d be the last person I’d call on!” You spat vehemently. He slunk past Ubbe. They gave each other a clap on the shoulder before he disappeared from view.

“Why are you so angry at the Chief?” Ubbe asked.

“Did you know Thora….died?” The tears were sliding down your face as you spoke. “Did you know Harald just let him take time off?” You went to stand next to Hvitserk.

“We knew. I knew, and Björn. But not you or Ivar. You two had enough going on.” Closing your eyes, you tried not to take what Ubbe said to heart. But being shut out like that upset you, regardless of what you had going on. Taking Hvitserk’s limp hand in your own, you were thankful that right now he felt warm and that he was still here. “He must have been devastated, Ubbe, and he just stayed at home, torturing himself. Blaming himself. Oh Hvitserk! Why didn’t you ring me?” You whispered. Ubbe grabbed you in a tight embrace, looking down at his brother as everything you said sank in. “Why didn’t you do more?!” You suddenly demanded, trying to shrug him off but he held onto you refusing to let go. “If you knew…” your words were choked off. Tears for Hvitserk and his pain seeped into the fabric of Ubbe’s jumper. Twisted anger at your own selfishness rose up in you, the blame couldn’t be laid at the brothers feet alone. If only, if only…

“It’s done now. We found him and he’s here. He’ll be alright,” he mumbled through your sobs. “You did what you could.”

“But if I hadn’t been fighting with Ivar…!”

“Hey!” Ubbe held you at arms length, ducking down so his pale blue eyes bored into yours. “You wouldn’t be you and Ivar if you weren’t falling out over something. We can throw the blame around all you like and we’d find we are all at fault. Or,” he cupped your cheek, keeping your eyes on his. “Or we can work together and get Hvitserk back to his normal self. Yes?” Nodding against his hand, you knew he was right, but the pain and guilt you felt was eating away at you. Ubbe pulled you back against his chest, curling a hand up the side of your face. Taking a shuddering breath, you inhaled his familiar scent and closed your eyes for a moment, dreaming you were anywhere else but here.

Hvitserk was coming home. Ubbe and Björn were at the hospital getting ready to bring him back. Sigurd was running the workshop and Ivar…no one knew. After spending the last few days tidying up Hvitserk’s house, you found you had a few hours to spare.

The door to Ivar’s building was unlocked and you took a moment to breathe before pulling it open. Taking another inhale, you stepped over the threshold only to choke on the breath in your lungs.

She stood in the hallway, holding up a small compact mirror and reapplying lipstick. Her bright golden hair was perfect, draping in soft, styled waves over one shoulder. She wore an opulent brown fur coat and heels that clicked when she shifted slightly, puckering her lips as she checked them in the mirror. Her gaze slid to you standing stupidly by the door, a crafty smirk appearing at the corners of her mouth.

“I take it you’re here to see Ivar. Give him a minute to—clean up.” You hated the way her voice was like crushed velvet, her accent soothing and cutting at the same time.

“I’m here to update him on Hvitserk.” You managed to breathe out, still dumbfounded that Freydis of all people was here. Had she been with Ivar?

“Like I said, give him a minute.” The mirror snapped shut, echoing loudly down the corridor. “Our reunion was…mmmm!” She grinned widely, rolling her eyes in exaggerated disbelief. “I have missed him.” You had no idea what to do. It felt like someone had tipped ice water all over your head, the chill seeping to your very bones, freezing in your veins. You could feel your heart beating, but the life in you was gone. Your numb fingers didn't register they were still clutching at the door handle, the metal biting into your skin. You couldn’t feel anything. “Anyway, I best be off. Give my regards to Hvitserk won’t you?” She pouted slightly, batting her long eyelashes at you before almost elbowing you out of the way. You could see Ivar’s door, so close and yet a million miles away.

The dread was thick, dragging at your thoughts and fuelling all the scenarios you had hoped would never happen to you. A logical part of you knew that Freydis was lying, there was no way Ivar would put himself through her shit ever again. But still…

You knocked. Probably harder than you needed to. The door was yanked open and the fury on Ivar’s face melted away into a blank expression at the sight of you. He didn’t say a word, his eyes frosty at best, a slight tilt to his head as he regarded you coolly. He didn’t move aside and you didn't want to go in, your eyes captivated by the lipstick smeared at the corner of his mouth.

“Just wanted to let you know that Hvitserk is coming home. Soon. Hours in fact.” It was there, so red, like blood. Just a dab marking the corner of those lips you’d kissed. Still, he didn’t speak and you felt yourself drowning without a lifeline to hold onto. “I’ll be moving in with him. He’s going to need all of our support to process Thora and…everything else,” you swallowed harshly and tried to ignore the heat that gathered behind your eyes. “So I saw Freydis.” You couldn’t help it. You had to say something, anything, to get a reaction out of him but his eyes just flicked away from yours and focussed on a point over your shoulder. “She looks good. I see she left her mark on you. That's not your colour, Ivar.” He scowled, just his brow tugging down, but you didn’t wait for a reply, turning away and leaving the building before he could even take a breath in for a scathing retort.

You waited until you rounded the corner before allowing yourself to break. The wall was rough as you slid to the ground, not caring at the pain that radiated up your body. It didn’t even compare to the ache in your chest. Pain like you’d never experienced before eviscerated your insides, tearing you to pieces. Your heart shattered into painful shards, each one stabbing and shredding and creating more hurt that you could barely breathe through. Your lips quivered, pulled back in a silent cry as tears fell from your eyes. Out of all the ways you thought Ivar would break you, this one had never made it onto the list.

You were aware of how it must look with you sitting sobbing on the dirty ground and you made yourself get up. You had to push this to one side. Today was about Hvitserk. Ivar was done with you, that much was clear.

“Sit here!” You plumped the pillow and then helped to rearrange it after Hvitserk sat down. He slapped your hand away gently, a soft groan falling from him.

“I don’t need all this fuss!” He exclaimed but you pretended you didn’t hear him. Ubbe and Björn milled about in the living room. The pair of them far too large to be in here together. Sigurd took his brother's bag upstairs and you went out to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“You ok? Did you get hold of Ivar?” Ubbe asked and you plastered on a bright smile.

“Oh yeah, I told him. He was a little preoccupied though.” Ubbe scowled, watching as you filled the kettle at the sink.

“With?”

“Freydis, of course.” You shrugged like it was no big deal. Ubbe didn’t say anything, standing there in quiet contemplation as he watched Björn and Hvitserk through the doorway. You could hear Sigurd coming down the stairs, all the noise of their laughter weighing on you.

Hitching up that smile again you served them all coffee, keeping yourself busy sorting a load of laundry, and cleaned up the cups as soon as they’d finished while they all lounged around, spending time with their brother, who could barely keep his eyes open. You tapped Ubbe on the shoulder and pointed with your thumb as Hvitserk’s head fell forwards onto his chest. Björn clapped Hvitserk on the shoulder, announcing he was leaving loudly and you inwardly groaned. Ubbe gave you a kiss on the head, Björn squeezed you in a tight hug and Sigurd stood awkwardly before you for a split second until he decided to grab you in a rough hug that you accepted. Finally the door shut and Hvitserk looked at you with a quizzical expression.

“Are you my babysitter?” He asked with a smirk.

“Well if you do stupid stuff, Hvitserk…” you could see the pain behind his smile. The ache that settled inside him when he remembered what had happened. “Do you want to talk?”

“No.” Nodding you accepted the rebuttal, it was too soon. “I am tired though.”

“I made up your bed and cleared the spare room so one of us could sleep in there.” He eased himself off the sofa and you refrained from rushing to help him. Eventually he straightened, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck so hard it made you cringe.

“Come up with me?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, sure.” You followed just behind, matching his slow pace and pausing at the top of the stairs as he glanced between the bedrooms.

“I’ll take the spare,” he mumbled. You couldn’t blame him because you didn’t want to sleep in his room either, probably for similar reasons.

“Yeah. Ok.”

“Goodnight, litla systir.” You held back the comment that it was only 5pm and you bid him good night anyway. The door to his room was open and you paused on the threshold. Echoes of your screams, the feel of how lifeless he was, all came rushing back and you sucked in a breath. You’d sleep on the sofa.

It felt like you’d been asleep for moments, a few silent bliss filled moments, when a shout woke you so abruptly that you rolled off the sofa with a thud. The blanket entangled your legs, seeming to get tighter in your desperation to be free. The shouting grew louder, the pain in Hvitserk’s voice made your heart race and you climbed up the stairs on all fours, the blanket still trying to keep you from him.

“Vinsamlegast ekki taka hana!” He cried out hoarsely.

“Hvitserk!” Bursting into his room, you found he was sitting up. His eyes red and sore where he’d been crying, the stain of tears on his cheeks glinted in the low light. He was reaching out to something you couldn’t see and you did the first thing you could think of. Grabbing his hand tightly, you tried to talk to him out of the throes of his nightmare.

“Ástin m��nn!” He choked, holding onto you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe.

“I’m here. It’s me, sæta.” You tenderly wiped the wetness off his cheeks seeing him blink to consciousness. “Hvitserk…”

“Don’t leave me. Please.” He sounded so small, and hurt, his throat raw with emotion. You nodded, holding back your own tears.

“Ok. I’ll stay,” you whispered.

“You promise?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” You made him lie down, whispering all the while to let him know you weren’t going anywhere and stroking his hair out of his face with your free hand, because he had the other clutched tightly in his grasp. You anchored him, made him feel safe and right now he needed you more than anyone else. You lay next to him and watched until his breathing grew even and his death grip on your hand eased. But you didn’t pull it free. Your eyes traced over him in the low light and you knew a rough ride was ahead of you all.

When morning dawned neither of you said a word. He went for a shower and you yawned in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. You shot off some texts to the others, just letting them know you'd made it through the first night. Kat was the only one to enquire after you, but you managed to appease her with a smiley. You weren’t sure how long that was going to last.

Hvitserk appeared behind you, his hair long and loose, but he was clean shaven and looked better than he did last night.

“Want me to braid it?” You asked and he nodded. Silently you drifted into the living room. He settled on the cushion and you spread your legs on either side of him, smiling a little as he wrapped his arms around your leg. He put something on tv, possibly to do with tree frogs. You weren’t sure but he was engrossed. Your mind was elsewhere, trapped in reliving that moment with Freydis and then last night all circling back to that moment you found your best friend almost dead in his own bed.

The spiral was fierce, you hadn’t realised how deep you’d sunk until you absently wiped at the wetness trickling down your cheeks. Quickly you used your sleeve to wipe away your tears as Hvitserk shifted to look at you over his shoulder. There was a shadow in his gaze and you knew perfectly well what was haunting him.

He got up and went into the kitchen and you heard the fridge door open. The cupboards opened and slammed shut. He even tried the back door and your heart fell when you realised what he was looking for.

“Hvitserk…” you called.

“I’m hungry.”

“I could make toast…”

“I don’t want toast…I don’t—want fucking…” You saw the loaf of bread fly across the kitchen, the sound of cutlery scattering as he emptied the drawer. You got up, watching him empty more and more things, cereal and rice skitting across the tiles. Packets splitting, tins denting as they fell, but he had to see for himself there was nothing here.

“Hvitserk…” It broke you to see him like this. His expression was angry but desperate tears filled his eyes as he swept every corner of every cupboard, finding them devoid of everything he’d stashed. You’d made sure of that. He slumped amongst the mess of the kitchen, snivelling sobs fell from him and you crouched in the doorway. “I’m sorry…”

“No you’re not,” the venom in his tone took you aback slightly. “I don’t want you here!” He snarled.

“You need me.”

“I don’t need you or Ivar or anyone!” He stood up, kicking food out of his way, making the mess worse.

“Hvitserk…” the force of his fury focussed on you. Grabbing the front of your top he pressed you heavily against the wall, the air pushed from your lungs. You tried to tell him he was hurting you, to let you go. But he wasn't even looking at you.

“I want Thora,” he sobbed. “Not you!” Covering his face, his grip loosened on your top and you were able to gasp some air down through the pain in your chest. Slumping to his knees he leaned into your stomach, seeking comfort, and you automatically wrapped your arms around him. Not able to hold back your own tears as he wept into you, hands fisting in your clothes trying to grasp some sort of solace at the feel of you. “I’m sorry!” He moaned.

“It’s ok. You’re hurting,” you told him thickly.

“I just need more sleep,” he whispered. The only movement you made was to sit on the floor and heave Hvitserk in your lap. Stroking his hair and lulling him back to sleep right there. An enormous sense of exhaustion washed over you and it wasn’t until the front door opened and Ubbe came in that you realised how much of the day had slipped by without you realising.

He crouched beside you both, his fingers reaching out to ghost over Hvitserk’s hair before glancing up at you with those bright blue eyes.

“You ok?”

“I am, but the kitchens not,” you whispered back. He looked around with disbelief all over his face, hanging onto the doorframe to keep his balance.

“Are you ok with him? I can stay…”

“No, honestly. I’m fine with him.” Ubbe studied you closer.

“You look tired, ástvinur.”

“If you can make it to the kettle, I’d like a coffee.” He raised an eyebrow and you smiled. Reaching to nudge your chin he gave you a lopsided one back.

“Coffee coming up.”

Ubbe tidied and cleaned the whole kitchen, saving what he could and putting it back in the cupboards. Your legs had gone numb a long time ago with Hvitserk spread eagled all over you like dead weight. You’d almost finished your cup of coffee when he finally stirred, disorientated by being on the floor and you gasped as blood flow returned to your limbs.

“How long was I out?” He asked gruffly, peering into the kitchen and acknowledging Ubbe with a brief nod.

“I don’t even know,” you groaned, manipulating your legs and rubbing away the pins and needles.

“Gods, I’m starving,” he said with a slight grin. Just an echo of Hvitserk was shining through in that moment but it was enough to lift your spirits. Maybe, just maybe, you’d all get through this.

[triplexdoublex]

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting 💦

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

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

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling  the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?” 

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

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

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

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

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is!  My girls always cum,” he smirks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you. 

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He  grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!”  you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling  out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.” 

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

[etherrealoblivion]

A Broken System

MASTERLIST

Summary: At her birthday celebration, Y/N is out on the town enjoying herself when she runs into a cute FBI agent who she’d love to take home and do terrible things to. Normally, someone meeting an FBI agent at a bar wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There’s just one, miniscule, microscopic, meager, problem... Y/N is only twenty.

tags: Large Age Difference, power imbalance, choking, Dom/sub, safe sex, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, cliffhanger.

A/N: this just made so much more sense in third person. i tried replacing it with second person, but trust me it did not work. hope you enjoy! gif by @toyboxboy​

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,930

~

Spencer Reid never really thought he was attractive.

Probably had something to do with his perpetually messy hair, gangly stature, and his tendency to ramble on and on and on and. . .

Yeah. Like that.

Another factor definitely was the fact that he was in his 30’s and had never really had a stable relationship. Sure, he’d had relationships with a few women. Well, two women. The first being a girl he’d met in college with whom he had a brief fling. Spencer didn’t really count it as a stable relationship due to the fact they barely even kissed. And the other woman, the only woman he’d ever really loved, died tragically several years ago. 

Maeve.

Maeve was the real reason Spencer didn’t like going to bars with Morgan or being set up on dates by Penelope. She was the reason that Spencer wasn’t interested in anyone anymore. Who could possibly compare to Maeve?

Damn it. That was the other reason he wasn’t looking to date. He knew how the mind worked and there was no doubt that if any new person came into his life, she’d be unconsciously compared to Maeve. He couldn’t put anyone through that. 

So, Spencer Reid stayed single. Which, for him, was relatively easy. Whenever someone started to get a little too close with him, he’d blabber and spout facts until they ran off. Morgan would ask what happened and Reid would just put on a slight frown, mumbling how she had to go. 

The charade got more effortless the more they went out. Morgan, almost always going home on the arm of some woman and Spencer content to get a cab back to his own place, have a quick efficient orgasm, and fall asleep.

He had a system. And no one was going to break it.

~

Y/N hated the summertime. 

Well, she didn’t usually. Anywhere else on the planet it would be mildly enjoyable. The beach, ice cream, staying up all night. All that fun crap. In Washington D.C, however, summer was hell.

But! When one was accepted into Georgetown and their parents offered to pay FULL tuition plus housing, how can one say no?

Seriously, she wanted to know.

After two whole years in this armpit of a town, Y/N had finally gotten used to the sweltering heat that plagued the city during the summer. Whatever. She just stayed in the comfortable A.C. all day anyway.

But, the summer before her third year was almost over, and the only thing she could think about now was graduating with a major in Journalism. She didn’t really like most of the courses, but it’s what she needed to do to become a full-time editor.

Living in a rent-free apartment was heaven. No roommates meant no worrying about, well, anything. The only problem was, her parents could hold it over her head every time they called. Which is why she never answered their calls.

Today, however, answering was unavoidable.

Because not only was it the day before her first class, today was her twentieth birthday.

Y/N was in the middle of getting dressed to go out with her friends when her phone vibrated from the kitchen table.

“Hello?”

She tried so hard to suppress the cringe at her mom’s voice.

“Sweetie! How are you? Are you eating?”

“Yes, mom.”

Oh boy. Strong start, mom. 

“You look skinny in the pictures on Facebook!”

Yeah, she was definitely going to be late.

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to push her mom off the phone, insisting that her friends were on their way and she had to keep getting ready. 

A sharp rap on the door saved her.

“Come on!! It’s almost ten!” Y/N’s friend, Mina, said, annoyed. “All the old people leave the bars at ten and if we don’t get there soon, the bouncers won’t let us in!”

Y/N didn’t really understand the logic there. Hot girls always got into bars. Especially late at night. How were there not more crimes committed in clubs? Maybe she’d find out in her first class tomorrow.

“Hey!” Mina snapped her out of it, “Come on! Let’s go.”

They arrived outside a dinky little club a few minutes later. It had taken Y/N a while to get accustomed to how close everything was together in this town. Before college, she had been a small-town girl. Promise ring and everything. That, uh. That didn’t last long.

Before they got in line, Mina took a long satin sash out of her purse and secured it across Y/N’s torso.

“What the hell’s this?”

The sash was white with large pink flowy letters that poignantly spelled out: Birthday Bitch.

“It’s a sash.”

Three of Mina’s friends strode up, quickly exchanging hugs and wishing Y/N a happy birthday.

“I see that it’s a sash, but why am I wearing it?”

Mina confidently strode up to the bouncer, Y/N at her side, fake ID at the ready. Technically, it was the right birthdate, the year was just a little off.

“Go through. Happy Birthday,” the guy said, barely sparing the ID a glance, more focused on the huge sash. It made sense. She didn’t look her age. No one would think she was only in college by taking a glance at her.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Look,” Mina pulled her aside just before they entered, “this makes every single guy in there want to buy you a drink. So, go enjoy a free Shirley Temple, on me.”

Y/N scoffed and entered the club, immediately overwhelmed by the booming of the music.

Jesus Christ. How did people not die from this? It felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

Sure, she’d been in a bar before. But not a real, proper club. She was pretty sure she saw some people wearing neon. Oh my god, there was a DJ.

Suppressing a laugh, she headed to the bar. At least there was a bar. There were so many people gathered around though that she couldn’t get much access to the one bartender on staff.

Luckily, he spotted her sash that seemed to shine under the blacklights.

“Hey, make some room for the birthday girl!” 

And the crowd parted like the red sea, every man’s head turned towards her, and she cautiously approached the bartender who gave her a quick wink.

“Scotch. Neat.”

A dark man with a silver nose ring slid onto the stool next to her.

“It’s on me,” he addressed the bartender, staring at her the whole time. “So. Birthday girl. How old are you turning?”

She smiled softly. The sash was working great, but now she had to come up with a way to answer his question without explicitly lying. 

“Who wants to know?”

Maybe flirting would be distracting enough.

He smiled, glancing down for a moment, then holding out his hand. Ha. Men.

“I’m Jon.”

Ugh. She hated handshakes. But for this man, she might be able to make an exception.

“Y/N.”

Five minutes later, she wished with all her heart she could take the handshake back. Y/N should have known better than to talk to a guy at a club. They were all sleazebags. But! She did manage to get a couple of drinks out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said after his fifth time mentioning Outback Steakhouse.

But before she could leave the bar discreetly, a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought we were talking?”

Y/N may have been a small-town girl, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing his shoulders and driving her knee up into his crotch, stomping off toward the exit.

Only when she got outside did she realize how fast her heart was beating. She leaned over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her snap around, grab the hand and twist it around the stranger’s back, shoving him up against the alley wall.

“I’m sorry!” the man squawked shrilly. “I’m sorry!” It wasn’t Jon.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, not releasing him yet.

“I saw you lean over. I just wanted to see if you were ok!”

She finally drank in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a soft purple sweater vest over a grey button-down, slacks, and worn black converse on his feet.

Confident that he wasn’t a threat, she released him and took a step back.

The man rubbed his elbow softly, glancing at her chest. Before she could tell him off for staring at her rack, he pointed to the sash.

“Is it your birthday?”

She looked down. Oh, he’d been looking at the sash of course. Then why did she feel … disappointed?

“Oh, yeah. Some guy bought me a drink and got a little, er, touchy.”

Suddenly, the man’s face went dark.

“Who is he? Where is he?”

He started to walk back into the club but she stopped him, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm.

“Hey! It’s fine. I kicked him in the crotch.”

The man’s eyes switched from anger to surprise in a flash. He flustered for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the alley.

Y/N now took a closer look at his face. He had deep, wise brown eyes, a small five-o-clock shadow gracing his jaw, and very full lips, the latter of which he was biting profusely. Aw. He was nervous. But why?

Maybe because he was in an alley with a random girl who had just been groped at a club and he didn’t know what to do.

She chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Um. I didn’t get your name?”

He smiled brightly, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh! Of course, sorry. I’m Spencer!”

And Y/N braced herself for the telltale outstretching of the hand.

But none came. He simply stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other waving at her, a dopey smile on his face.

Her face lit up. 

“You didn’t try to shake my hand,” she muttered, awed.

The man, Spencer, got an embarrassed look on his face, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I, uh. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But, really, everyone should be! The amount of germs passed in a handshake is staggering. They really should be abolished altogether.”

“Right! People should just bow their heads or, or, wave!” she said excitedly, gesturing to his hand. “I mean a handshake is like a hug with a part of you that comes in contact with everything! Might as well go up to someone and start making out with them.”

As she spoke, his face lit up in wonder.

“Right? It’s crazy! But the thing is, some people actually do that! I was in that club for fifteen minutes and I swear I saw three couples leave together that definitely didn’t go in together.”

“I know!” she said, starting to pace in the cramped alley. “I mean, who goes home with someone that you just met! They could be a serial killer for all you know!”

She looked at Spencer and was delighted to see a joyful expression on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry for blabbering,” she waved, chuckling slightly.

Spencer smiled even wider.

“Don’t be sorry! Usually, I’m the one who has to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“Blabbering,” he said sheepishly, hands back in his pockets. When he was talking, they had been moving about wildly. It was kind of endearing.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, considering. “Blabbering is underrated. One could argue it’s the best way to learn useless information.”

“Well, I’d agree but no information is really useless.”

Y/N held up a finger.

“‘Information is useless if it is not applied to something important or if you will forget it before you have a chance to apply it.’”

Spencer’s mouth fell open.

“Timothy Harris?”

She nodded. “The 4-Hour Workweek. Outdated, but still applies.”

When she noticed his expression, it nearly knocked her breath away. He was looking at her like no one ever had before. Like he’d just realized the most important thing in the universe.

Before her cowardice could catch up, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His face went blank, shocked by the sudden approach. He nearly gasped when she spoke.

“It’s totally ridiculous to go home with someone you just met, right?”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Totally.”

“Why were you out tonight in the first place? You don’t exactly seem like the club-going type.”

He smiled softly.

“I, uh, just got a promotion last week. My friend Morgan wanted to take me out to celebrate. It was either this or karaoke.”

She chuckled softly, their faces so close he must have felt her breath.

“I don’t know, I’d have liked to see your rendition of Bad Romance. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a whole Lady Gaga vibe?”

“You should see my Beyonce.” And he did a little mime of the Single Ladies dance, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. Without thinking — probably due to the trace amounts of alcohol in her system, not enough to be drunk, but enough to be tipsy — she reached up her arms around his shoulders, clasping them together behind his neck like a teen slow-dancing at prom.

Spencer seemed startled by the sudden physical contact. He froze, hands unmoving at his sides.

Y/N pulled her arms back, stepping away from him, discouraged and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, collecting herself and walking back towards the club door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” he called before she could reenter the club. A tiny part of her let out a breath in relief. She turned around to see him with a hand outstretched toward her, frozen with the uncertainty of what to do next.

He recovered quickly, a blush visible on his cheeks in the lamplight of the alley.

“If you’re leaving, would you, um. Could I walk you home?”

She had no idea what possessed her in that moment but just as he spoke, she walked up to Spencer, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

To her surprise, he responded immediately, running his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

His lips were so warm. He tasted very faintly of alcohol and maybe a breath mint? Y/N let herself fall into the sensation.

Suddenly, her back was pressed up against the wall of the alley, Spencer’s hands lighting a trail of fire down her body. He hesitated, pulling back briefly to make sure she was ok.

A glint in her eye, she yanked him back down, tongues clashing together in a blaze of glory. He hiked her leg up around his hips, pressing them closer together. Y/N could feel the hardness in his pants pressing into her stomach, sending a wave of heat down to her core.

She pulled back. If they went any further, she didn’t know if she’d be able to leave the alley.

Y/N tried to hide the smile on her face but it was no use. She beamed at Spencer, linking her arm through his elbow.

“Lead the way. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, you’re taking me home. I’ll lead the way!”

And so they walked, arm in arm down the busy D.C. streets, silently enjoying each other’s company.

They arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later, Y/N clumsily unlocking the door, nervous from the thought of what was about to happen. They hadn’t explicitly said anything in particular. Was he going to come in? Would she invite him?

Spencer, it seemed, was also daunted, standing awkwardly on the threshold of her place, hands buried in his pockets.

An idea sprung into Y/N’s brain.

She approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck again only this time, his hands rested lightly on her waist.

“Still think going home with a stranger is a bad idea?”

Spencer chuckled softly, stroking the exposed skin of her waist from where her top had ridden up.

“I’m still debating it.”

“Oh?”

He slid his hand around the sash, fingers hovering above her chest.

“I never asked, how old did you turn?”

She smiled. For some reason, she felt she could trust this man. The worst that could happen was he calls the cops on her for having a fake ID. She could deal with that. Destroy the evidence, bat her eyes. Easy. Besides, he looked barely of age himself. She quickly wondered what he did for a living? He did say he got a promotion.

It would be easiest to just tell him the truth.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

He chuckled lowly in her ear, moving his lips gently across her neck.

“I can handle it.”

She gasped at the sensation, legs clamping together.

“Officially, it’s my twenty-third. At least, that’s what it says on my ID. One of them.”

Spencer froze, waiting for her to go on.

Y/N quickly backtracked.

“It’s okay! I’m twenty! Not a minor, no worries.”

But Spencer pulled away, an extremely worried look on his face despite her assurance.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re underage.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? Come on, by one year. What, you never had a fake ID?”

“No!” he said shrilly, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s ok! It’s not like I’m gonna get caught. I look much older and when are there cops at a place like that?”

He reached into his pocket and fished out a folded wallet. Snapping it open, Y/N’s jaw dropped at the FBI badge with his picture in the corner.

She floundered for a moment, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

“You’re . . .”

“Yep,” he said shortly, pocketing the badge.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much my reaction too,” he said, sighing. “I should arrest you.”

Y/N took a step back, incredulous.

“Arrest me?”

“You have a fake ID. You’re clearly drunk.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Great idea, Spencer. Book me. Take me down to the FBI and tell them exactly what happened to lead to you finding out I’m only twenty. I’m sure they’ll need very specific details.”

A look of realization flitted across Spencer’s face and he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“How old are you anyway?!” she demanded, upset at him for being upset.

“Thirty-four!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

He was fourteen years older than her, in the FBI, and probably was seconds away from arresting her.

“There’s no way you’re thirty-four. I mean, look at you!”

He rolled his eyes, snorting, and beginning to pace the small hallway.

“This is exactly what I get. I meet a girl I really like for the first time in years and she’s decades younger than me. And a criminal!”

“Hey!” she said, shoving his shoulder. “Not decades. I’m not a criminal. And how the hell do you think I feel?  I’m out trying to have fun on my birthday, some guy gropes me leading me to run into the perfect man, take him back to my apartment thinking I’m gonna get lucky only to find out he’s a cop who’s gonna arrest me. Best birthday ever.”

Spencer eyed her carefully.

“Get lucky?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. Shit. She hadn’t meant to reveal that part. Even though it was pretty obvious, something about it not being said added to the excitement.

“Did you really . . . I mean were you…. Um.” Spencer seemed to lose all authoritative tone suddenly, stammering nervously. It was such a 180, it shocked Y/N. 

“Was I going to let you fuck me?”

He cringed at the bluntness but nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, Spencer. I was.” She scoffed. “Honestly, I still would. But I understand if I’m more than you can handle,” she said coyly, trying to keep a straight face. “Just please don’t arrest me, Sir.”

His expression darkened at her words. Something deep and lustful behind it. Feeling bold, she went with it.

“Or is it Agent?” she cocked her head, holding a finger to her lips in thought. “How do I address you properly, sir?”

A small groan left Spencer’s mouth and he stepped forward, brushing a hand over her hair.

“We shouldn’t do this, Y/N…”

Slowly, she backed up into her apartment, pulling him with her.

“We shouldn’t.” She gently led him to her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, him towering over her. “To be fair, you’re the one with handcuffs.”

He groaned again, wiping a hand down his face.

“This is a bad idea.”

But he crouched down in front of her, pressing his forehead to her exposed knee, breathing deeply.

“Spencer,” it was barely a whisper but he met her eyes instantly. She smiled gently, reaching out to him and coaxing him up from the floor so he was hovering above her, mouths inches apart. “Listen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she assured him. “But I want this.”

She leaned back, pulling him with her so he was lying atop her, an obvious bulge pressing against her through their clothing.

“I want this, Spencer.”

Y/N hoped that he knew he could leave if he wanted. She didn’t want to pressure him into anything. Despite the age difference, she seemed to be the one more in control.

Spencer lowered his head, sighing.

“Fuck,” he moaned, lightly thrusting against her, a moan escaping her mouth at the contact.

That seemed to be the last straw.

He sat up, ripping his sweater vest off along with his button-down, quickly moving back over her, lips latching to her neck and chest.

Oh thank god. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to stand it if he’d left. But from the way he was touching her, hands moving up and down her sides, gently pulling her skirt down, looking up at her every now and then to make sure it was alright, he wasn’t going anywhere.

She just spurred him on, stripping off her top and bra, now only wearing her panties.

Spencer groaned at the sight, a hand reaching up, hovering over her breast. She arched her back up into his hand, letting out a gasp as he started to fondle her. 

God, his hands were huge. And nimble. Oh, so nimble.

She reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it across the room, pushing his pants down faster than possible.

He groaned again, a magical sound, reaching a hand down to stroke her through her panties, coaxing a gasp from her beautiful lips.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled down her panties and buried his head between her legs.

Y/N gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, edging him on.

He slipped two fingers into her, his tongue flicking against her clit wildly, making her writhe and moan on the bed, gasping his name.

“Spencer, Spencer.” It took all the resolve she had to pull his head away from her. “I need you to fuck me.”

Spencer looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Y/N . . . are you sure?”

Rather than answer, she yanked him up, crashing their mouths together, one hand quickly pushing down his boxers, his erection springing free.

Good god.

Wow.

How the hell was she supposed to fit that inside her?

She looked up at him, impressed, only to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Well,” she said, kicking off the panties pooled around her ankles, laid bare underneath the stranger on top of her. “This night gets better by the second.”

His size was a little daunting, but the thought of him slowly filling her up, probably not being able to fit all the way in, only added to her desire.

He dipped his head down, stealing a quick yet passionate kiss.

“Do you have . . ?”

“Yeah, in the drawer.”

He reached over, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. It looked extremely tight on him. Y/N unconsciously licked her lips. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe next time. I need to be inside you.”

And with that, he flung her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at her entrance, slowly running it up and down, moistening the condom with her juices.

God. The feeling of him being so close and yet so far was almost enough to push her over the edge right there. He had been a god with his tongue and she was desperate for more friction.

Reaching down, she lightly circled her clit, moaning at the instant pleasure.

Before she could enjoy it much, hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her on the bed, Spencer staring at her with a dark look.

“If you wanna touch yourself, you have to ask permission. Understood?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Words escaped her so she settled for a small nod.

“Use your words.”

His tone was so commanding the word left her mouth the moment he finished speaking.

“Yes.”

He lightly placed his hand around her neck, not applying any pressure, just hovering.

“Yes, what?”

Fuck. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being talked to.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, he slid inside her, slowly filling her up with his length, moaning roughly at the sensation.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, watching as Spencer’s face tightened, jawline even sharper, and a dark look in his eye. He carefully applied a bit more pressure to her throat, quickly releasing his hand afterward.

They were both still as she adjusted to the size of him inside her.

“Is this ok?” his voice sounded so different than it had a moment ago. He had shifted back to the geeky guy she’d met in the alley.

She nodded gently at him, running a hand over his cheek in a way that was surely far too personal for a one night stand. 

“My safeword is apple.”

He froze for a moment, shocked. Apparently she was kinkier than he’d expected. 

Tired of not being fucked by this man, she dug her heels into his back, directing him to move.

He did without hesitation, groaning at the sensation of slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. 

The feeling overwhelmed both of them, a litany of curses and moans falling from their mouths. Spencer’s hand moved back to her throat, squeezing much harder now that he knew what to listen for if she wanted to stop.

The sound of her moaning was enough to make him come right there and then. That, with the feeling of her around him and the fact that his hand was around her throat, totally in control.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Oh my god, where was this coming from? Her nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of marks.

“You like feeling me fuck you?” he wrapped a hand around her leg, pulling it higher to try to hit the magical spot inside of her. “You like when I wrap my hand around your pretty little neck? Showing you how in control I am of you.”

She nodded ecstatically, legs tightening around him. She was definitely close to coming.

“What were you thinking? Going to a bar when you’re underage. Then leading a stranger to your home, intending to let him fuck you silly. Finding out I’m ages older than you and still practically begging me to bend you over and pound you till you can’t see straight. Is the age difference what gets you off, Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she let out a raucous moan, no doubt waking up the other tenants of the building.

Spencer smiled, drilling harder and tightening his grip on her throat.

“Oh, you like it when I say your name? You like when I shove my big cock in you and moan your name in your ear?”

She practically screamed as his hand started to circle her clit, the stimulation practically knocking the air out of her.

He was hitting her g-spot with every thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close. She just needed….

“You gonna come for me, Y/N?” he punctuated it with a particularly hard thrust, feeling her begin to clench around him, orgasm washing over her.

Her walls tightening around his cock was enough to send him barreling over the edge, grunting as he thrust in her four more times before feeling his balls tighten up and spill his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his forearms to stay above her, both of them completely out of breath.

Slowly, he pulled out with a sigh, discarding the condom in the trash by her bed.

Y/N was seeing stars. This man had just given her her first penetrative orgasm. And, possibly the best sex she’d ever had.

‘Fuck’, was right.

Spencer flopped down next to her, still naked, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

It was strange. Even though they’d just had some of the best sex Y/N had ever had, she didn’t even know this man. And yet, somehow, she felt like she did. Did that happen a lot once you had sex with someone?

Her eyes refocused from where they’d been staring off into space to see a concerned Spencer looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He studied her for another moment before speaking.

“You were biting your lip.”

A blush crept up her cheek.

“Yeah sorry. Helps me think.”

He let out a sharp breath, a sort of soft laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said as he retrieved his underwear, slipping them back on and starting to button up his shirt.

Oh. Was he going to leave? Of course he was! That’s all this was, anyway. A one night stand. You had sex. That was the point.

Then why did it feel like hell?

“You okay?”

Her thoughts had drifted into space again. Spencer had laid back down, now on his side facing her, holding her hand, looking at her intensely. His gaze was practically burning.

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I don’t normally do . . . that.”

She chuckled. It was rather obvious he wasn’t the hookup type. Despite the dirty things that had come from his mouth.

“Me either.”

He softly stroked her cheek. 

“Are you going to stay?” she blurted.

His face fell.

“Oh, no I wasn’t going to impose if you-”

“NO! I mean,” she took a breath. “I want you to . . . I mean, if you want . . . I'd . . . I’d like you to stay. If you want?”

God. She sounded like a teenager asking their crush to prom. This was no stuttering sophomore she could kick in the crotch if he said no. He was a man. Although, he did tend to stutter. Maybe it wasn’t all that different.

He lit up, a wide smile brightening his features and he began to stroke her hand.

“I’d like that too.”

Wondering if it was possible for cheeks to sprain from smiling, she pulled up the covers, cuddling up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

~

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. The stupid alarm. She had been right in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Spencer’s hands and her bruised throat.

What time was it anyway?

The red clock radio proudly displayed: 7:00.

Right, it was the first day of classes. Maybe she’d just ditch and stay in with Spencer. He had been so warm she was sure he had a sun where a heart should be. College didn’t matter anyway, right? Ugh.

A shiver ran through her. She reached out for Spencer, only to find the cold other half of the bed.

Sitting up in bed, she stared at the empty spot.

Had he really walked out on her in the middle of the night? No…. No? Fuck. How could she be so stupid. Of course he didn’t want to-

Oh, he’d left a note.

In a fast yet tidy scrawl, Spencer had left the following message on a little notecard.

Good morning! I am truly sorry to walk out like this, but I have a class at 7:30 and I have to stop by my place and get ready. I’ll be back at the bar tonight, 10:30. I’d love to see you there.

-Spencer. X

Her heart melted into an ocean at the sentiment behind each individual letter. The man she’d just had a dirty one night stand with wanted to see her again.

Wait, he’d said a class? He hadn’t told her he was a student! To be fair, neither had she. That’s another thing they had in common apparently. It made sense why he didn’t tell her. A lot of people were ashamed of going back to college later in life. She thought that was ridiculous. Good for him.

Maybe she could look him up in the student registry. Actually, he may not even go to Georgetown. There were plenty of colleges nearby. She couldn’t have looked him up anyway. She didn’t even know his last name.

It was probably a good thing he left, because she, too, had a class at 7:30.

It only took her twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and walk the very short distance to campus.

She arrived in the lecture hall with exactly one minute to spare, finding a seat next to a brightly dressed redhead holding a fuzzy pen.

“Hi! I’m Allie.”

“Y/N,” she said, suppressing the cringe as Allie reached out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you! What’s your major?”

Oh god. The inevitable college question.

“Journalism. You?”

“English,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Super boring I know, but it lets me take fun classes like this one. Why are you taking this class?”

“Oh, um. It looked fun, I guess. My dad was a lawyer and he kind of piqued my interest in the criminal justice system.”

Allie sighed.

“Thank god. You know half the girls are here just because the Professor is a hottie,” she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes again.

“Really?” Y/N asked, glancing around at the seats noticing the vast majority of the population were women. “Wait, I thought Ms. Merklins was the teacher? Did something change?”

“You didn’t get the email? It just went out the other day, Ms. Merklins had to retire. Something about a club foot. Anyway, the new teacher is supposedly super overqualified. Plus, he’s cute.”

“Huh.”

“Yep. I talked to this one girl in the hall, she actually said she’d sleep with him! Can you imagine?”

Y/N laughed.

“Nooooo. I cannot and I don’t want to. I’m just here to learn, I promise.”

“Same here. Although, if I start getting C’s, all bets are off.”

Y/N laughed and politely chatted with Allie while they waited.

The Professor’s office door swung open and Y/N reached into her bag to get her laptop.

“Hello, class.”

“Hello,” the class echoed.

“Welcome to Criminology. I am Professor Reid and I-.”

Y/N looked up over her screen as he stopped talking, making sudden eye-contact with the Professor.

She froze in her seat, blood running cold.

No way. No fucking way.

Spencer?

~

TAGLIST

~

@whollytaciturn​ @101donuts​ @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid

[taetaespeaches]

“Why do we always burn the French toast?”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.7K

a/n: Hi lovelies! This is just a little random scene from Tae and Peaches’ relationship, featuring Tannie. Tae gets home late and Peaches propositions him for some late night French toast. Based on an ask I got a while ago about Tae and Peaches dancing to ‘Sunflower Vol. 6′ by Harry Styles. Ok, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :)) 

DESPITE his quiet entrance, the little dog who was curled up next to your side gave your boyfriend away as he walked into the bedroom at half past midnight. You were awoken to the sound of Yeontan barking and whimpering in excitement, Taehyung gently shushing the dog as to try not to disturb your sleep.

When you opened your eyes, you saw your handsome man bent down so he was eye level with you as he patted the small ball of fluff. At the sound of the groan that left your mouth, Taehyung shot you a wide-eyed apologetic look.

“Go back to sleep, Peaches,” he whispered to you, stepping closer in his crouched down position so he could reach you, running a hand through your hair, leaning toward you to press a kiss to your forehead.

“What time is it?” You asked him groggily, your boyfriend shushing you. You glanced to the alarm clock to see the 12:34 displayed. Pouting, you looked back to Tae, reaching a hand out lazily to haphazardly soothe over the man’s cheek. Nearly poking his eye, he flinched before giggling. “Did you eat?” You asked him, Taehyung avoiding the question as he dropped his head to the mattress, Yeontan happily pounced on his dad’s head, trying to play with the man who had been gone at the studio all day. “Tae.”

“I’ll eat in the morning,” he dismissed your concern, you glaring at him sleepily, Taehyung chuckling. “Don’t worry,” he told you cautiously, knowing the comment would probably trigger a lecture. Stealing a kiss from your lips before you could give a sassy response, he stood up quickly, preparing to head out of the room. “I just need a shower.”

“Tae,” you whined after him, only for him to leave the room, shooting you a cheeky smile on his way out. Looking down at the pup next to you, you found him already looking up at you. “I know, little dude, he’s a brat.”

Involuntarily, you drifted back to sleep, waking yourself up every few minutes in anticipation of Tae’s arrival back in the room. When you heard his faint steps traveling the hallway after about fifteen minutes, you willed yourself to sit up, earning an annoyed side glance from the tired dog.

Your boyfriend entered as you were stretching your arms over your head, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist as he shook out his wet hair with his hands. Raising his eyebrows at you, he flashed an expression of surprise. “Why are you still awake?” He asked.

“Waiting up for you, sexy,” you flirted, Taehyung’s lips quirking into a smile as he looked to the floor bashfully.

As quickly as the embarrassment showed in his face, he recovered, turning so his back was to you, whipping the towel off to expose his bare ass to you. “Waiting up for this?” He teased, you giggling as you reached to cover Yeontan’s eyes as you let out an oof. Taehyung saw the action in the vanity mirror’s reflection, causing him to smile widely.

“That is exactly what I was waiting for,” you smiled, Taehyung chuckling as he opened the drawer to pull out some underwear. You watched as he pulled the briefs over his long legs, admiring their length and shape. The dude was stunning from head to toe, it was hard to comprehend how someone actually looked like that.

“Well bad girls who don’t go to sleep when they should don’t get any of this,” he wiggled his now clothed butt at you, you smiling, thoroughly entertained by the man. Next, he put on a pair of lounge shorts and finally a t-shirt, turning around to see you staring at him.

Fixing your expression into a pout, when he turned to look at you, now fully dressed, you huffed, crossing your arms over your front. “What?” he asked with a low chuckle.

You both stared at each other for a moment before you smirked. “Do you want some French toast?”

“Huh?” He asked, his eyebrows raising. “Now?” You nodded, the man taking a moment before his lips curved into a stunning smile. Taehyung was typically the one to suggest random late-night activities, so you couldn’t really blame him for his surprise.

You were scrambling out of the bed in an instant, leaving your boyfriend standing in the middle of the bedroom in confusion, the dog looking disrupted but not particularly bothered as he watched you head toward the exit. “Race you to the kitchen,” you called out, Taehyung jumping into action as he chased after you, making you squeal as you bolted out the door, Yeontan following behind eagerly. Halfway down the hallway, two arms wrapped around your waist from behind, you giggling as you lightly hit his arms in protest, Tannie jumping at your legs.

Nuzzling his face against the side of your neck, he placed a series of kisses to your skin, you giggling as you both waddled to the kitchen. Just before stepping into the room, he spun your bodies 180 degrees, releasing you from his hold, jumping onto the tiled floor. “Beat you,” he told you with a smirk, nodding his head cutely, you shooting him a glare.

“You’re a cheater,” you informed him though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Tannie,” you looked down at the dog, Yeontan looking up at you. “Don’t be like your dad. He’s a bad role model.”

Your boyfriend smiled as he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen until music filled the kitchen. The song was ‘You Make Me Feel Like Dancing’ by Leo Sayer, the soft ah’s starting the song off against a groovy bass line.

“Tannie, don’t listen to your mom, she’s worse than me,” your boyfriend told the dog, you rolling your eyes playfully as you went to the fridge to get the eggs and milk.

“Whatever, cheater, can you get the vanilla please?” You asked, your arms full of the ingredients as you closed the refrigerator door with your elbow.

“You know,” Tae started as he reached inside the cabinet for the vanilla extract. “I liked it more when you were calling me sexy.”

“Oh, the cinnamon too,” you added, Tae playfully glaring at your disregard for his comment. “Sexy,” you tagged on, making your boyfriend chuckle.

Bringing the vanilla and cinnamon to you, he whispered next to your ear, “that’s better,” sending a chill down your spine at the low tone.

“Stop it, I’m trying to feed you,” you warned, Taehyung kissing your cheek before his lips spread into a grin. “No innuendos,” you interjected before the man could even start his joke about eating something else.

Your boyfriend chuckled, kissing your cheek once more before resting his chin on your shoulder, his still wet hair chilling the side of your neck at its touch. “How can I help you?”

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at the ingredients sprawled out in front of you. “Do you want to make the egg mixture?” He nodded against your shoulder before stepping away and grabbing a bowl and a whisk.

“This is an important step, isn’t it?” He asked, you humming in confirmation. “Pressure’s on,” he joked, you giggling just as Taehyung grabbed an egg. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he cracked it against the bowl, giving an approving “hm” at the way it cracked. Opening the egg and allowing it to slip from the shell into the bowl, his head craned toward the homeware, a sigh immediately leaving his lips.

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face as he looked disappointedly at the egg. “Shell,” he spoke quietly to himself, you giggling at how utterly endearing he was. Tae’s eyes darted to meet yours, a bashful grin taking over his face as you reached out to poke his cheek.

“Stop being so cute,” you cooed, Taehyung groaning at your affection. “Here,” you handed him a spoon, your boyfriend taking it to start fishing the shell out.

“You should crack the rest,” he giggled as he struggled to capture the unwanted piece of shell.

“Nah uh, you got it,” you told him, turning to the bag of bread, pulling out a few pieces.

“Ah!” Taehyung exclaimed, you looking over at him to see him smiling proudly at the spoon. “Finally,” he quirked an eyebrow.

“What a guy,” you commented, Taehyung smiling at you. As he cracked the next egg, he began swaying his hips to the song, you joining him as you watched him carefully break the eggs.

After successfully completing the task without any more shell mishaps he smiled happily at you. He began singing along to the song, though he didn’t know the lyrics so he instead just mumbled in a high-pitched falsetto to the melody, you laughing loudly at his silliness.

“Ok vocal king, add the milk,” you giggled, Taehyung following your directions without missing a beat in his singing. “Ok, that’s good,” you told him, the man instantly stopping pouring. “Now the vanilla, just a little,” you told him, watching as he dropped just a little dollop in. “Perfect,” you nodded, “now the cinnamon.” He added a couple dashes, looking at you for approval. “I mean, top chef status, really,” you complimented, Taehyung giggling as he leaned toward you, catching your lips in a chaste kiss.

Pouting for a second when he pulled away, you turned to the frying pan that was heating, dropping a slab of butter into it. As it melted, ‘Sunflower Vol. 6’ by Harry Styles started playing from Taehyung’s phone.

Placing the bowl next to you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as he watched you dip the first slice of bread into the mixture. As soon as you placed the bread into the sizzling frying pan, he was swaying you in his hold, humming lightly against your neck.

Turning in his arms, you draped your own over his shoulders, clasping your hands behind his neck as you looked at him fondly, toying with the damp strands hanging off his nape. The only illumination in the kitchen was from the light over the sink, Taehyung’s handsome features just barely visible underneath the glow.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” You pointed out randomly, Taehyung smiling widely at the compliment.

“Is that so?” He teased, moving his hand to your forearm, pulling your hand from his neck to clasp his overtop of it, holding it out in a waltz position. Your other hand slid to rest on his shoulder as his other one settled on your lower back.

“It is so,” you giggled as Tae began leading you around the kitchen.

Pointing his chin up slightly, he hummed in thought. “You’re prettier,” he commented, you smiling at you looked over your shoulder at the pan.

“We’re gonna burn the toast,” you noted, Taehyung’s eyes widening as if he just realized you were cooking. He ushered you backward toward the stove, pulling you close to him as he grabbed the spatula, flipping the toast.

“Ah, perfect,” he nodded, you giggling.

“Really? Are you just saying that?” You asked, trying to peer behind you to no avail as Taehyung placed his free hand to the back of your head, holding you to his chest.

“It looks great, just trust me,” he let out a low chuckle. “We’ll make more,” he added, you laughing at the obviously burnt piece of food. Suddenly, he turned you quickly, stretching his arm out and spinning you under it, you letting out a surprised squeal. The ruckus got Yeontan up from his spot on the floor, jumping at yours and Tae’s legs again, you both giggling at the little pup as he sat and looked up at you curiously.

“This song makes me think of you,” he told you, your eyes widening in response. “I’ve got your face hung up high in the gallery,” he sang along, you smiling fondly as you crinkled your nose. “I love this shade, sunflower, sunflower.” As the guitar did a little riff in the middle of the verse, Taehyung did a shoulder shimmy, you playfully gasping at the move, your boyfriend giggling. “Your flowers just died, plant new seeds in the melody, let me inside, I wanna get to know you,” he sang again.

“That part in particular,” he grinned. “Ever since I first met you, I wanted to know you, but you wouldn’t let me in for so long,” he chuckled, you smiling bashfully. “You made me work my ass off before you let me see you,” he noted fondly.

“Was it worth it?” You asked, Taehyung nodding immediately.

“Absolutely,” he smiled widely. “Best reward I could have ever asked for.” You scrunched your nose at him, Taehyung swiping his tongue over his lips as he observed you thoughtfully.  

As the chorus played, I couldn’t want you any more, kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor… Taehyung brought his lips to yours, your hands settling on his face as he pulled you close by your waist. Resting your foreheads against each other’s, you both listened as Harry sang, I couldn’t want you any more, kids in the kitchen listen to dancehall, I couldn’t want you any more tonight.

And in that moment, you could see it. Sunday morning, kids running around, bouncing on the couch as they watched cartoons, you and Tae watching over them as you prepared breakfast. They would have Tae’s boxy smile as they laughed unabashedly. Maybe you’d still be dancing like this, only one kid would be standing on Tae’s bare feet as he led them in a waltz, another kid on your own feet. You’d dip the kids, squeals leaving them followed by contagious giggles resembling Tae’s youthful laugh.

Without saying a word to Taehyung, you could tell he was thinking similar thoughts by the way his smile beamed, his whole face blooming, looking more radiant than ever.

“You know what’s a weird feeling?” He suddenly asked, you humming in question. “The contradiction of wanting to stay in this moment forever and having no time elapse, but also wanting to hurry up and see our future and experience how it all unfolds.”

Your boyfriend wore the fondest of smiles as he spoke and you just wanted to protect this moment. “I know exactly how you feel,” you agreed, leaning toward him and kissing the side of his mouth. Taehyung let out that childlike giggling, you unable to hold back your own chuckle as he plastered the side of your face in kisses.

“You know,” you spoke through the laughter, “I hate to ruin this really sweet moment, but that toast is definitely burning right now. More giggles slipped through your lips at Taehyung mouthing shit as he turned around quickly.

“Why do we always burn the French toast?” He asked, you laughing in amusement.

“We get distracted too easily,” you giggled.

“Ok, this next piece is going to be great,” he told you as you nodded, the song ending as ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’ by Queen started to play.

“I trust you,” you told him as you watched him dip the next piece of bread in the egg mixture, placing it in the pan.

Looking down at the dog lying next to your feet, you cocked your head. “Do you want to dance, Tannie?” You asked him as he started to wiggle in excitement. You sat down on the floor just as your boyfriend turned to look at you. He observed as you scooped the dog onto your lap, singing to the pup as Tannie wiggled, you both dancing together.

Watching you play with the dog, your gentle and kind nature shining through as you giggled and cooed, Taehyung knew that as excited as he was for his future with you, he didn’t want a single second to go by too fast. He wanted to savor every moment with you. And he didn’t want to miss anything.

Leaving the stove momentarily, he bent down to squeeze the dog’s face, leaving a kiss to the top of his head, you smiling at the sight. He then pressed his lips to your temple, lingering there for a moment before he pulled them away.

“I love you, Peaches,” he whispered, hovering over you from behind.

Leaning your head back to look up at him, upside down, you grinned happily. “I love you, Dearest.”

Neither of you wanted to miss a single moment. The future could wait. He was here now, and so were you, and that was all that either of you ever wanted.  Since the moment you met the man, that was all you wanted.

[tinyboxxtink]

Build Me Up Buttercup *Part 3*

Yay I’m so happy people love this! 

SUMMARY: Summary: You’re an SVU detective, the entire squad is all driving to Hartford Connecticut in your car to interview a victim's family. ROAD TRIP!!!!

If you need to catch up:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Tag List: @wanniiieeee

“...So the last time you saw her was when you dropped her at school, Mrs. Fahey?” Olivia asked the distraught mother.

You and the squad had arrived at the victim’s house later than you had anticipated, sans lunch just like Rafael had predicted. You knew you should be paying attention to the interview, but your blood sugar was tanking by the minute. You tried distracting yourself by glancing at all the photos in the living room. Frames upon frames of the victim, a young 19 year old freshman to NYU, filled the room. Almost like they had made a shrine to her while she was still living. She was clearly their entire world, and now she was missing. Suddenly, all of your phones buzzed with notifications. It was a group text from Dodd’s.

“Oh no…” Amanda whispered.

“What? What happened? Did they find my Mary?” Mrs. Fahey frantically gripped Olivia’s hand.

“Ah….Mr. and Mrs. Fahey maybe we should go somewhere more private,” She replied.

“More private than my living room? You obviously all got the same news, so you might as well tell us here,” Mr. Fahey abruptly said.

“They...did find Mary,” Olivia simply stated. The Fahey's faces lit up for a moment, but then Olivia finished her sentence.

“....Her body was floating in the Hudson.”

That was it. You didn’t know if it was the exhaustion from getting up early and driving, or the fact that you hadn’t eaten more than a stick of gum since last night, but you felt sick to your stomach and your emotions were taking over. You stood up and tried discreetly walking out into the hall from the living room. You thought for half a second to ask where the Fahey’s bathroom was, but clearly now was not the time for that. You could find it yourself; you hoped.

Meanwhile, Barba had noticed you walking out, clearly in distress. His concerned look caught Amanda’s attention, who had also seen you leave. She shrugged at Barba, causing him to ask in a whisper:

“Should I go check on her?”

“Well you clearly want to, so yeah sure,” she whispered back.

“Rollins! She’s your partner!” he hissed.

“Something tells me she’d rather see you,” Amanda smirked.

What was that? Was it obvious he liked you? Was it obvious you liked him? There was no time to dwell on that drama, he was genuinely concerned about you.

He followed your exit out into the hallway, but you had vanished. He cautiously crept down the hallway until he saw a light under a door. As he approached it, he could hear soft sobs coming from the other side.

“....Y/N?”

Your head snapped up from staring at the floor, crying into your knees next to the bathtub. Shit, you had really tried to be discreet. Why did he follow you? This was totally unprofessional, you were sure of it. You stood up and tried wiping the smeared mascara and eyeliner from your teary eyes, but damn you and your love of the smoky eye! You looked like a drowned raccoon; This was a nightmare.

“I-I’m fine!” You called through the door, praying he’d walk away and he wouldn’t have to see your impression of the girl from THE RING.

“...You sure? I heard crying…”

Well, he sure wasn’t subtle, just a “state the facts” kinda guy. You kinda loved that about him, since you were the same way. And if you were being honest with yourself, the fact that he actually came to check on you made your stomach quiver. Okay, something lower quiver.

“Yeah I….stubbed my toe on the tub,” You called through the door, making a “What the fuck was that” face.

“....Yeah I doubt that. Come on just open the door, por favor,”

Oh God. When he used spanish, your knees went weak. Even if it was just a phrase you’d hear on a Rosetta Stone.

“Damn you,” You muttered, but complied with his request. The door peeked open just the tiniest bit so he could see your Picasso painting of a face.

“Oh my god, what happened to your face?!” He asked in a louder tone that caused you to freak out and pull him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Did you skip sensitivity training in law school or what?” You half laughed with a sniffle; it actually felt good. It might have been just the thing to knock back you to reality.

“I’m sorry, I’m not so good with the...subtle,” He apologized with a sheepish smile.

“Yeah I got that; it’s fine. Neither am I,” You assured him with a soft punch on the shoulder.

“Ok but seriously what happened to your face, you look like La Llorna,” He chuckled, putting his hands on your face and attempting to wipe off the layers of black lining your eyelids.

“Again, so comforting,” You rolled your eyes as he picked up a washcloth next to the sink and wet it to help the situation.

“You’re deflecting, detective,”  he raised an eyebrow as he put the washcloth to your eye. His gentle touch and the warm feel of the washcloth suddenly did actually feel extremely comforting.

“I...I’m just tired,” you lied. Well, in a way it was true.

Rafael’s eyebrow remained raised; that’s exactly what he had said earlier, instead of telling you how he really felt. He was sure you were doing it now.

“Being tired makes you burst into tears?”

“You’ve never been so tired you wanted to cry? Not even in law school?” it was your turn to raise your eyebrow.

“Alright, maybe ONCE in law school....but I waited until I was in the privacy of my own dorm,” He chuckled, you rolled your eyes.

“So…?”

“I just…..” you took a long, hard pause letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Were you seriously going to do this now? This of all times, of all people, Rafael Barba? Two hours ago you were convinced he hated you, and had probably spoken a total of two sentences in your career at SVU. But at the same time, for whatever reason, you felt completely safe with him. You took another deep breath in and finally spoke:

“It’s just...this girl; Mary. She was just a young girl, she had everything going for her! She was beautiful, smart, obviously worshipped by her parents by that shrine out there,”  you gestured towards where you both had just come from.

“And...and she makes ONE bad decision, one. One moment of wanting to be accepted by the ‘cool kids’ at school by going to a frat party, and it….” you felt a sob catch in your throat.

“...It cost her her life,” you whispered softly.

“Ay….carino, come here,” Rafael sighed and pulled you into his arms, stroking your hair. You both just stayed like that for what felt like forever, but instantaneously you both realized this had gotten insanely intimate for two co workers who barely knew each other. He dropped his arms and cleared his throat, you quickly began running your fingers through your hair as you turned to face the mirror, away from his gaze. God, please. Be more awkward.

“I didn’t want to start losing it out there in front of her parents, they literally just lost their most prized possession. This can’t be about me,” You sighed as you turned back to face him.

“It’s stupid...I’m stupid. I shouldn’t let shit like this get to me, it’s totally unprofessional I know,”

“...No it’s not, it’s fine, You’re human,” He assured you, putting a thumb under your chin making you look into his deep green eyes

“Barba? Y/N? Did you get locked in there?”

Sonny’s voice knocked you both from each other’s stare, your faces both turning red. Rafael threw the door open and let you exit in front of him.

“I got sick, Rafael held my hair,” you quickly blurted out, both men’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh. Well, um….Mr. Barba is quite the gentleman,” He looked at Barba trying to hide a disgusted face; thinking about vomit made him queasy. “You ok now?”

“Yeah! Fine, hungry actually,” You half smiled as they followed you to the front door where the others were waiting,

“I’m so, so sorry again Mr. and Mrs. Fahey,” Olivia held Mrs. Fahey’s hand. “You take as long as you need to before coming to the city to…”

“Identify our daughter’s body, detective. No use pussyfooting around it.” Mr. Fahey was blunt once again.

“Right,” Olivia nodded.

“I’ll take the morning off tomorrow, we’ll be by then,” he replied gruffly.

“Okay. Whenever. No Rush,” Olivia waved one last time as the door closed. You all walked silently to the car, you broke it with a deep sigh.

“....Does that ever get any easier?” You asked, looking at each face of the members of your squad.

“Honestly? If you're a good cop, no.” Fin replied.

“The day you stop caring is the day you should quit.” Sonny added.

“God I’m starving, can we please get food? And drinks?” Amanda whined.

“Well, I sure could use a drink! Or five,”  you laughed.

“That’s another thing to watch out for, rookie,” Fin paused, taking your shoulder.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t drown your problems in a bottle, That can go downhill real fast,” Fin warned.

“That’s why it’s super important to have a squad you can trust. That you can talk to,” Olivia came up and put her hand on your other shoulder.

“Well, so far so good,” you half smiled.

“Seriously guys, can we get some food? Barba’s starting to look like a rotisserie chicken right now,” Sonny licked his lips.

“Alright alright Carisi, get in the car ya five year old,” Fin punched him in the arm.

As you went to the driver’s side of the car, Rafael stopped next to you.

“Do you want me to drive?” He offered. You usually never let anyone touch your baby, but you literally felt as if you could pass out just standing there.

“Please,” You smiled, tossing him your keys.

You got in your passenger’s seat and closed your eyes, finally relaxing for the first time since you left the City.

What awaited you on the other side of your nap?

[internalsealpanic]

All That Glitters

Summary: Pandora’s box is a black box covered in silk and embossed with the initials R.S.

a/n: So uh this work is a follow up to my fic Better Die than Doubt but it can be read as a stand alone. This thing resulted from the combined might of  @knightfall05x,  @lucy-roo​, and my thirst. I said the follow up to that fic would be fluffy. The chronological follow up will come out at some point. I  just have a single braincell and it decided it wanted to write more Black Mask being an absolute bastard. Thanks to those two hoes for enabling and proof reading. See you both in hell

warnings:  This is smut. I was being haunted. This work contains noncon, past noncon, violence, Roman being an asshole, daddy kink, size kink, strength kink (if you squint ), yandere themes, stalking, exhibitionism, a dude who cannot take no for  an answer and choking.  

masterlist

“Hey Jay,” You chirp into the phone, maneuvering it over your shoulder carefully so you wouldn't drop it while you held your soda can at an arm's length away from you hoping it wouldn’t explode on you when you attempt to open it. 

 “Hey, sweet-” You blow out a raspberry halting the correction in its tracks. You can practically picture Jason’s mouth swerve into an odd shape caught between proceeding with his correction or backtracking.  He chose neither. You hear him swear viciously. You snort making him huff. 

 “What’s up, asshat?” He asks, endearingly. You can pretty much hear him rolling his eyes from this side of the world. You frown hearing how winded he sounded. 

 “Jay, if this is a bad time, I can-”

 “You’re fine it’s just a little-”

 “JAYBIRD, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE”

 “Roy sounds like he needs help. I can call back later.”

 “Roy can handle himself.”

 “Thanks for the confidence, Jaybird, but I think I’d prefer if you kept shooting straight.”

 You snort feeling warmth build up in your chest despite the chilly weather. You chirp delighted when you open the can and it doesn’t explode. You hear Jason chuckle. The smart remark he had on the edge of his tongue dies on his lips when your breath hitches audibly at the sound of his gun firing. Jason makes a noise, the kind you use to prompt someone to tell you if they’re ok without having to ask. You swallow and nod and curse remembering he can’t see you. You blow out a breath, making sure it comes out steady. 

 “Y/n...”

 “I’m-” You wanted to say fine but you knew the word fine was wholly inappropriate and untrue for this situation. “I’m gonna survive. I promise.” 

 Jason doesn’t make a sound of agreement or disagreement. He simply acknowledges it. You silently thank him for the neutrality. 

 “JAYBIRD”

 “SHUT UP, HARPER”

 You hear Kory sigh in exasperation somewhere in the distance.  In the background, you hear a shriek which you assume is from Jason. Then the line cuts out. 

You try to redial. 

 Nothing. 

 You try again.

 Nothing. 

 A laugh rips out of your chest. You cry out in pain, the fizzy drink rushing up your nose. You wince and curse and settle on blaming Jason.  You suspect they somehow broke the phone. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that outcome. You sigh but there was no point in complaining about it. You might as well finish your lunch in peace. 

   You chew on your cheek as you walk back to your cubicle, everyone’s eyes are on you. You feel your breathing pick up a fraction of a second faster. 

 One

 Two

 .

.

.

.

 Two

 Fuck

 You dig your nails into your palm. Your footfalls become heavier and a little louder even against the white noise around you. You slowdown and shake your head. You haven’t had an attack at work so far and you aren’t about to start now. You inhale deeply, letting your chest expand as you run through the things Dinah taught you.  

 Take stock of the situation around you. 

 The world around you was buzzing with life-shuffling papers, ringing phones, humming of machines, and blips of voices here and there. The room is bright and clean under the light of sterile fluorescent lights. You take in all the voices around you. You’re not alone. The knot building in your shoulders loosens. You continue. 

 Take stock of your body. 

 Your body is trembling, the beginnings of a panic attack looming over you. Instead of cursing it, you let it. It was only natural to relapse once in a while. The trauma wasn’t fresh. Not in your opinion, at least. Dinah and, apparently, everyone else had a different opinion. You’re good at being ok but you were human. You let out a  long breath, half-tempted to let your eyes slide shut but you’re afraid of finding yourself in that room again, of seeing him, of feeling him on you. Revulsion spasmed in your body in powerful waves. Sure, you’re a showboat, Jay had said as much, but showing off and causing a scene were two entirely different things and you weren’t entirely sure you could endure the looks of pity from your coworkers every time you came through those doors. 

 Stiffly, you walk towards your cubicle. Your neighbor, Chelsea, smiling conspiratorially at you while your manager glares daggers at you. You raise an eyebrow at Chelsea who waggles her eyebrows in return.   

 “This is how you tell me I got fired?” You sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. 

 Chelsea rolls her eyes at you. “Nope, but the boss man did want me to tell you to tell your boyfriend that he really shouldn’t be sending you gifts at work but honestly, I …...” Your brows knit in confusion, cold dread licking at the pit of your stomach. 

 “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say slowly trying to keep the mounting panic out of your voice. You could hear your blood pulsating in your ears, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. Your feet are itching for you to run outside and call Jason or Dinah or anyone but the stupider part of you- the curious part of you was clawing at your mind to proceed. 

“Y/n, are- are you ok?” You blink and look at the clock. Two minutes. You blacked out for two minutes which, if you were being totally honest, was a huge improvement. 

 “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 “If you say so” She shrugs, her eyes still not pulling away from you.  

 Mechanically, you turn to your desk. Your entire being freezes when your eyes land on the black box sitting on the desk and the large bouquet of red roses sitting next to it.  The box was rectangular, black with silver trimmings embossed on it. Large ‘R.S.’ written in fancy lettering at the bottom right corner of the lid. You wanted to vomit. 

 You draw a breath and flex your fingers. You can feel your teeth digging into your cheeks. 

 “Hey, Chel?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Can I borrow some tissues?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper but still miraculously steady. She frowns at your handing you a couple of tissues. Normally, you keep your vigilante habits out of your civilian life but considering the initials embossed on this obnoxiously expensive-looking box sitting on your desk, you think this level of paranoia is justified. 

 You stop to calculate the odds that the box contained explosives which turns up zero. You sigh but a shiver climbs up your spine when you run through the possibilities of what Roman could have thought of as a gift. 

 “Y/n, what the fuck?” If Chelsea wasn’t watching you before, she was now. You glance at her quickly and give her a weak smile. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. Cautiously, you lift the lid quietly regretting not calculating the possibility of anything toxic being in it. You’re honestly surprised nothing happened. You roll your eyes upon seeing the expensive-looking black silk covering the inside.

Yes, rub your money in my face while you scare me shitless why don’t you, you fucking asshole, you think grumpily peeling the fabric away. 

 Your heart comes to a full stop when you’re met with a pair of lacy lingerie. Your lacy lingerie. Your USED lacy lingerie. You blink trying not to focus on the white stains. You sincerely did not want to think about that. Moving them aside you find a bloody shirt, the sound of its shifting fabric making gooseflesh spread all over your body. 

 You recognize it. You didn’t want to, but here it was. The bloodstains were dry but they were still visible even against the dark fabric of the shirt. Your skin prickles where the scars on your body sit. The knife wounds sting and throb as if freshly cut.  It takes everything in you not to vomit.

  It was probably the single-minded curiosity that kept you going. You maneuver the shirt carefully making sure it makes as little sound as possible.  Underneath it is a collar, simple but clearly expensive leather with the tag R.S. glittering under the sterile lights. Your throat constricts. You tear your gaze away. Your eyes sting. Next to it was a stack of photos. The top photo showed you with your, shirt torn exposing your breasts. Someone was inside you, gripping your hips. You gag.  You reign your mind in. You flip the stack over and gather your breath. Your heart stops again when you see Roman’s familiar handwriting on the back of a photo.   

 “Miss me?”

The drive back to your apartment was a blur consisting of what was most likely several severe traffic violations but you needed- you need to get out of town as quickly as possible. The odds of Roman himself showing up to your little town was low, very low. Not that you’ve actually calculated it. You don’t need to. The man walks around like his feet bless every surface they touch. The man has a loaded god complex the size of Russia to put it generously. Fetching you was simply beneath him. He had henchmen for a reason after all. 

 You wave to your landlady and her husband amiably as you walk past them keeping the nervous thrum out of your movement. Your landlady returns the gesture, elbowing her sneering husband. You know what he thinks of you and your habits. Take a few guys home with you and suddenly you’re a slut. Your promiscuity was none of his fucking business. Your body was yours to do with, to give, and to take back. It was yours. It’s yours, you assure yourself but the feeling of your body and mind hanging loosely off of each other feels painfully vivid at the moment. 

 You shake your head. This wasn’t the best time to sort out your hang-ups.  

 You press your ear to your apartment door then remembered just how thick it was and remembered that you didn’t exactly have super hearing. You sigh. What you would give to be Supes right about now. You enter the apartment careful not to make your steps audible. That, however, was rendered moot by the two very large and blocky men standing in your living room. You exhale both in frustration and relief. If Roman Fucking Sionis thinks he can scare you with two meatheads, he was clearly insulting you. Well, at least, he didn’t hire anyone actually competent considering all your gear was in a duffle bag tucked neatly away under your bed. Yanno, just for this sort of eventuality. Now that you think about it. You really should have just kept it in your car but small-town crime seems to have softened you. 

 You smile letting the irritation mold you into something sharp and venomous. You throw the box at one of the henchmen goading them to attack you. Its contents scattering all over the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care that some of the photos land right side up. 

 “Tell your chicken shit of a boss to come scare me himself,” You laugh, manic relief flooding through you. You feel like you’re going mad but you don’t care. It’s so much more feasible to deal with these men than it is to have to even think about Roman. “He doesn’t even have the balls to-”

 “Well, it’s nice to see you too, Sweetheart.” comes a gravelly voice from the bedroom. Your stomach drops. Roman strides out of your bedroom adjusting the cuff link of his obnoxiously expensive suit.  He looks down to the photos and gifts scattered on the ground, frowning he bends down to pick up the collar, dusting it off and stuffing it in his pocket. 

 Your fight or flight response freezes. You back into the door, the material feeling too solid for the moment. You inhale sharply, only managing short shallow breaths as Roman slowly closes the distance between you. His footfalls loud, heavy, and deliberately casual making your blood thrum. 

 No. No. No. 

 Your eyes flicker wildly around the room looking for any weapon within reach, your mind running through the numbers, the probabilities melding together into incoherent blotches of red in the back of your skull. Roman slams his large hands on either side of your head. The impact makes the door creak. You can’t stop yourself from flinching visibly, surprise and fear carving themselves on to your face. Roman barks out a derisive laugh as he trails a leather-clad finger down your chin, your throat, then to your cleavage. The contact against your bare skin makes you bristle. 

 “This here?” He emphasizes, his fingers playing with the top button of your shirt popping it carelessly revealing your baby pink, lace bra hidden beneath. “This is a little low cut for the office, isn’t it, princess?”  

 Annoyance overwhelms your sense of self-preservation. “I’m not about to take fashion advice from a guy who looks like he watches Scar Face daily.” You snipe, teeth bared.  Roman hums the undercurrent of rage filling the air. Your ribs ache, remembering an old injury. Your mouth slams shut cutting off any other snide remarks. 

 “You wear these clothes to wind me up, don’t you?” Roman drawls, his leather-clad fingers tracing up the expanse of your thigh exposed by the slit of your skirt, bunching up the skirt and playing with the waistband of your thong as he does so. His thumbs pressing circles against your inner thigh, you can’t help but quiver under his touch. “Oh the fun hasn’t even started yet...just wait”, he bites your ear lobe and tugs it between his teeth. He pulls back and glares at you. “Do you want to know how I found you in this dead-end town, princess?” He asks tilting your chin with his gloved hand. You shake your head not really interested at the moment. You’re too distracted by how flush your body was getting as he presses you further into the door with his bulk. You note with disgust the arousal suffusing through your limbs. 

 “You were all over the news, sweetheart,” You’re trying to remember what he could possibly be talking about. He leans in closer, leather-clad hand brushing against his thumb against your bottom lip, your lips parting automatically for him. He places his gloved thumb between your parted lips. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize that goofy smile of yours?”  You shiver lips wrapping around the intruding digit.  Your tongue flicks and swirls around it in a practiced gesture. “Good girl.” Roman hums, a grin spreading across his face while thick shame blankets you. You frown at how familiar the taste of the glove is against your tongue. You push your thoughts away wishing your mind would fall away. 

 “Baby,” He draws his hand away from your lips, wiping the thin string of saliva on your face. His hands glide down the sides of your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize these hips?” His hands grab at your hips roughly, lifting you and pulling them flush against his own. “Baby. I know what’s mine and this time I won’t let you get away from me.” He whispers against your neck, voice husky and rough. You swallow feeling his lips brush against your pulse. 

 Roughly, he wedges a thigh between your legs, the friction against your core making you keen. The friction woke something in you and loosened a few other things. Your hips roll desperately against the thick muscle of his thighs. Roman grins against your neck,  loosening his grip on your hips and letting you fuck yourself on his thigh. You will yourself to stop but the heat twisting in your gut is too much. You hate yourself. You well and truly hate yourself. Your cheeks warm, breath coming out in pants. 

 Roman places a kiss on your collarbone, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your tongue is caught between your teeth to hold back a moan but the shiver spreading throughout your body says it too loudly. Roman chuckles, vibrations deep within his chest making you weak. Roman licks a stripe up your neck, planting kisses and hickeys along your jaw. “God, you taste sweet, princess.” He murmurs hot against your neck, the smirk dripping from his voice. It feels like acid against your skin. 

 He guides your pliant arms to loop around his shoulders. You obey soundlessly, tipping your head back giving him room to ravish your neck. He does with unbridled enthusiasm. You feel trapped in your own body. You don’t want this. You want to push him away but the fear coursing through you leaves you a passenger in your own body. Your breath hitches with each bite and kiss. 

 “Mine.” He rumbles resolutely, sliding the cloth of your top placing a bite on your shoulder. It stings without even looking, you know it’s deep. 

 “No” You whisper, low and unsure. 

 “No?” He challenges pulling away from your shoulder. 

 “No” You echo voice frustratingly unsteady. He sneers down at you, smile condescending. A biting rebellious part of you demands that you snarl and spit something brisque and witty at him but it’s pushed down by something viscous filling your chest. How are you drowning and why are you not dead yet?

 Just let it pass, your mind whispers to itself. Just let him get his fill and he’ll be on his way. You don’t even have to get hurt. You sincerely want to believe this. You just want this to not happen. The thought of it summons a wave of nausea deep within you. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes. You blink rapidly chasing them away. He likes it when you cry. 

 “Baby, you can’t tell me you don’t want this,” He emphasizes, pressing his thigh against your sopping pussy. The pressure makes you whine.  “Not when you’re being all cute and fucking yourself on my thigh like the dirty slut you are.”

 No. No. No.

 Rat-tat. 

 You will your hips to stop their movement but they’re too lost in their momentum. Your eyes flicker to Roman’s men, large eyes pleading. They stand stiffly doing their best to ignore you. They’re doing a damn fine job of it. 

 “Oh they won’t do anything, they’re here to watch,” Roman whispers hotly against your ear.  Your eyes flicker to them again. Your breath catching when your eyes meet one of theirs, seeing not an ounce of pity. You shove the bile rising in your throat and the quirk on their lips deep somewhere else, somewhere away from you.   

 You try to squirm away but Roman’s arm presses into your windpipe pinning you in place. You thrash and kick and hiss but your head feels light. You hear fabric shift and you still. The sound of the zipper is too loud and too real.  

Roman takes your lips in a forceful kiss making you gasp. His tongue forces its way into your mouth.  He releases your neck. You feel his fingers trail up the slits of your skirt. You try to focus on them rather than what’s pressing stiffly against your inner thigh. The fabric of your skirt bunch up by your hips. You feel your panties getting pushed aside by large fingers. You whimper again, clawing at the expensive fabric of Roman’s suit. “Please don’t do this.” You plead breathily against his ear. 

 He laughs, voice gravelly and harsh. Without further warning or preparation or ceremony, Roman shoves himself inside your warmth, pushing you further into the door. You gasp, the burning stretch making your body tremble all over. He bottomed out with a loud groan. You wanted to cover your ears or have your mind fall out of your reach but here it was painfully present along with your frozen body. He’s loud, groaning and panting as he fucks into you. He thrusts into you with wild abandon, hips clashing against each other with bruising intensity. You can feel his cock dragging in and out of you, hitting every spot violently. He wants this to hurt. You hope it would too. 

 Your cheeks burn with how your walls spasm around his cock. You want to push him away, to take him out of you but it feels so good. You try to smother the lewd sounds you make into his shirt.  Roman’s hands squeeze tightly around your waist in warning. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Let daddy know how much you want this.” You don’t protest. Instead, you let your mouth hang open and let the lewd mewls and keens tumble out. He drills into you more violently seemingly spurred on by your sounds. 

 You come with a whimper. You want to bury yourself in a hole. He comes not long after still fucking into you as he does, making sure your pussy takes all of his cum.  

 He pulls out of you, the slick sound of it absolutely sinful. Your body is slack against the door, too drained to hold itself up.  Roman pulls back, grinning down at you and whistling appreciatively as he admires his work. “Let’s dress you back up, sweetheart.” Roman coos locking something around your neck.  You don’t need to look down to know what he’s put there. The cool metal of the R.S. hanging off the collar presses stark against your hot sensitive skin.

 “You look sooo much better like this,” Blearily you look past him. Your duffle bag is already in the arms of one of his men. He grabs your face roughly making you look him in the eyes. “All mine- just as you should be.” 

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Thanks for reading! I swear I will do more fluff in the near future. I just needed this out of my system. 

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

[aewhore]

Hi! I was wondering if you could maybe write a threesome smut between penelope ford, kip sabian, and a female reader?

Three’s a Party ~ Kip Sabian & Penelope Ford x fem! reader (NSFW)  

Request by @unusem13 (I hope you like it!!)

Walking around the backstage area of AEW Dynamite was always a weird time, there was always loads of people around and the energy was intoxicating. You were preparing for your match tonight against Penelope Ford, You had been feuding for the last 2 weeks after Kip had begun to feud with your tag team partner and overall best friend Hangman Adam Page, you had joined Page to assist at ringside when Penelope attacked you leading to your intergender tag match tonight. This was going to be a tough match for you. You hadn’t told anyone, not even Adam but you had a history with Penelope. You had dated back when you both were in the indies and you had to end it when you went to Japan but Penelope stayed in the states.  

You both hadn’t been in the same company let alone the same ring in at least 4 years. So now as you stand in the ring with Adam waiting for Penelope to make her entrance you can feel your nerves eating you alive. Her music plays and the crowd starts to boo herself, Kip and Miro, as they strut out of the heels entrance onto the ramp and towards the ring. “Let’s go Y/N! Put her away fast and drinks are on me tonight!” You’re snapped back to reality by Adam slapping you on the back and yelling encouragement over Penelope’s music. You smiled at Adam before looking back at Penelope on the other side of the ring to see she’s already staring at you. Something flashes in her eyes but she turns away towards her fiance before you can truly understand what she was thinking. The ref enters the ring and you and Adam decide that you should begin the match. 

The bell rings and you cautiously approach Ford to lock up to begin the match but she catches you off guard with a swift punch to the jaw knocking you backwards. You stand back up to square up to Ford. You had hoped to have a fair fight but Penelope had other plans when she slapped you starting a striking exchange between the two of you. Emotions were getting the better of you as you ignored Adam’s attempts to tag in, instead of focusing on causing Ford the most pain possible. The numbers advantage overwhelmed you when you and Ford spilt to the outside and Kip got in a few cheap shots. When you’re rolled back into the ring you get a burst of adrenaline and sprint towards Adam for the hot tag. You collapse on the ring apron as you watch your favourite cowboy clean house wiping out kip and Miro but leaving Chuckie standing (cos he ain’t do nothing wrong) 

You gather yourself on the apron as you watch your best friend do what he does best and beat Kip all around the ring. Miro gets involved and Adam loses the upper hand and you start a chant with the crowd to motivate Hangman to get back to your corner to tag you in. You’re so invested in getting Adam to get back to your corner, back to safety that you don’t notice Penelope had run around from her corner to yours to pull your legs out from under you, causing you to crash down, hitting you face on the apron on your way down. Agonizing pain rang through your skull as you curled up on the floor holding your head. You try to stand but your vision is blurred and you sway when you try to stand. You rely on the apron to hold yourself as your eyes focus. You see Kip hitting Adam with his finisher and you try to get into the ring to break up the pin but you’re too slow. Your heart sinks, you and Adam lost the match, had you paid attention, you would have won.  

You and Adam lean on each other as you make your way to the medics room. “I’m sorry Adam, I’m not a good tag team partner” you confess as you sit upon the medics bench. “Don’t worry about it darling, I ain’t the best teammate either” you both let out a pained chuckle as the doc comes over to check on you. There was a gentle knock on the door before a stagehand entered to call Adam to an important booking meeting. “I’m sorry darling I need to go, you’ll be okay. Call me when you get back to your hotel room ok?” you were saddened to see Adam go as you hate being in the medics room alone but he’s needed elsewhere. “Ok cowboy, I’ll call you later.” he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. The medic begins running tests on you after hangman leaves. “Alright Y/N, I’ll be back in a few moments with your diagnosis.” You hear the door open but you don’t hear it close so you turn your head to see the door open and Penelope and Kip standing in the doorway. 

“I thought you hated being in medic rooms alone,” Penelope asks as she enters the room to lean on the medics bench opposite you. “I do hate it, Adam had to leave and your little stunt may have given me a concussion so I didn’t exactly have a choice now did I?” You could stay angry at Ford so your eyes stayed glued to your shoes as you ranted at her. “Oh Y/N, don’t act like you want an apology, if the shoe was on the other foot you would have done the exact same thing.” Your eyes snap up to Ford as you try to think of a retort. “Oh would you two just kiss and make up already, all this tension is making me sick.” You and Penelope break eye contact when Kip groans from the other side of the medics room. You both stutter and try to come up with some sort of response when the doc comes through the door. Kip moves towards Penelope and puts his arm around her midsection before turning towards you. “Listen Y/N, I think I know exactly what will put an end to this tension between the two of you. After the show, room 254. I’ll explain if you show up” and with that, he leads Penelope out of the room. You follow the two of them with your eyes before the doc interrupts you. “Ok Y/N, I ran tests and it doesn’t look too bad, so you won’t have to go to the hospital but I would still recommend that you take the week off just to rest up.” you’re relieved that you won’t have to go to the hospital so you thank the doc and excuse yourself as fast as possible to go to the locker room to grab your things and get out of daily’s place as fast as possible. 

You get back to your hotel and have a long, hot shower to relax your muscles. When you get out you check your phone to see that Dynamite will end in a few minutes. Your mind mulls over Kip’s proposal, you wanted to know what the English man had in mind but what if you and Penelope couldn’t get past your tension. You dry your hair and get dressed before sitting on the bed, lost in your thoughts you grab your phone and text Adam that your Ok. you lock your phone and see you still have time. “Fuck it, what do I have to lose?” you mutter before grabbing your room key and making your way to the elevator. You exit on the second floor and your anxiety grows in your stomach. You stand at the door, the numbers 254 in a worn gold nailed to the door. You had to psych yourself up but your hand still raises to knock twice on the wooden door. You hear movement on the other side of the door before it unlocks and it opens to reveal Kip in his signature crop top and low sitting tracksuit bottoms revealing the top band of his designer boxers. 

“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you doll” Kip’s arrogance rolls off him as he moves slightly to allow you to walk into the room. “It’s good to see you too Sabian” You walk into the room to see Penelope sitting on the bed on her phone before she looks up at you and a small smile graces her face, you smile back before you hear Kip walk up behind you. “I’m guessing you're wondering why I asked you to come here.” you turn to see Kip smiling at you. You nod at him, signaling for Kip to continue. “Well Y/N, I have noticed that you and my fiancee have a lot of tension, so myself and Penelope have spoken about what we can do to settle this.” Your eyes dart between Ford and Sabian as you try to understand what Kip is saying. “I still love you Y/N” you gasp at Penelope’s confession, she stands and begins to walk towards you. “Wrestling you tonight tore me up, and seeing Adam have to help you to the back broke my heart, I’m sorry and I’d like to make it up to you tonight.” You smile at Penelope but frown when you realize that you still haven’t been told what you all are doing tonight. Your thoughts are interrupted when Penelope smashes her lips against yours, Your shock melts into lust as you melt into Penelope’s touch. Her lips were as soft as you remembered and her hands moved up to hold your jaw. You both break apart and gasp to catch your breath.  

You felt someone press against you back and you identify it as Kip. You smile at the supposedly cocky English man’s need for attention. “See! I told you, you guys could kiss and make up” he grumbles before laying gentle kisses on your neck. You and Penelope make eye contact before you say. “Aw kip, was someone feeling a bit left out?” you giggle slightly. “I think we can make room for him, couldn’t we Y/N?” Penelope plays along with you in teasing Kip. You turn your head to face Kip before placing your hand under his chin and bringing him in to kiss you. His stubble is a rough contrast to his soft lips and strong hands gripping your hips. You grind your hips back against Kip’s growing erection. You feel Penelope trailing kisses along your neck and trails down your chest. You moan as Penelope’s hands move to massage your breasts, your back arches towards her. You and Kip break apart and Penelope leans back away from you, all three of you are breathing deeply when an idea pops into your head. “We’re all wearing too many clothes.” Before you can fully finish your sentence Penelope’s hands reach for the rim of your shirt and Kip’s hand hook onto your leggings. You’re left in your bra and panties as you reach to unzip Penelope’s jeans and tug them down. You see Kip’s shirt fall to the floor followed by his pants. When you are all left in your undergarments, You reach your hands under Penelope’s thighs to pick her up so she wraps her thighs around your waist. You carry her towards the bed and lay her down on her back in the center of the bed. 

You settle yourself between her legs as you trail kisses from her throat down her sternum down her stomach until you reach the rim of her panties and you pull her lacy thong down her thighs and out of your way. You make eye contact with her before you begin to kiss and suck along her thigh before you begin to kitten lick her soaked slit. Her moans begin to flow out of her as you lick at her pussy, moving your mouth from her opening to her clit and back again. You were on all fours with one of your hands wrapped around one of Penelope’s thighs and another on her pelvis to keep her from bucking too much. You feel Kip settle behind you and run two fingers over your clothed wet pussy, before he hooks his finger in the crotch of your panties and pulls them down your thighs before completely ripping them off of you. Kip massaged your clit with 2 of his fingers before he slips those two fingers into you and you loudly moan against Penelope causing a domino effect creating a loud moan from her as well. You can feel Kip thrust his fingers into you and scissors them inside you giving you this euphoric feeling of being gently stretched out.  

Kip takes his fingers out of you and you whine at the feeling of loss but before you can complain he rubs the head of his cock along your folds and you go to move your head to moan but Penelope grabs your hair to keep your focus between her thighs. Kip slowly pushes his cock into you, you can feel Kip’s cock fill you perfectly as he pushes inside you before he nudges against your G spot which makes your eye roll into the back of your head at the sensory overload. Kip thrusts into you at a toe-curling pace and you can’t help but fuck your hips back onto him. You take a break from sucking Penelope’s clit to wet your middle and ring fingers so you can plunge them into her needy hole causing her to arch her back completely off the bed and grind against your fingers and mouth. You match Kip’s thrusting pace with your fingers as you feel your orgasm get nearer and nearer. You latch your mouth back onto Penelope’s clit and her hand in your hair tightens as she screams out your name. You feel her pussy tighten around your fingers as a blast of wetness hits your face, you continue thrusting your fingers into her, fucking her through her orgasm. The coil in your pelvis gets tighter and tighter before Kip reaches one of his hands around to rub tight circles on your clit and the coil snaps as you cum all over Kip’s cock. Your pussy tightening and the added moisture causes Kip’s thrusts to stutter as he thrusts deeply into you one last time before painting your walls with his cum.  

You all collapse into a tangle of limbs as you lay in the center with Kip’s arm wrapped around your chest with Penelope’s leg thrown over your hip. Penelope’s hand came up to caress your jaw and you can’t help but melt into her hand. “So is it safe to say that the tension between the two of you is gone?” Kip jokes as he nuzzles into your neck. “Hm, I don’t know, I think we’ll have to do this again sometime to really get all the tension out” Penelope jokes before she kisses your cheek. You giggle as you think, oh you’ll definitely be doing this again sometime.

[feareth-who]

I'm sorry it's so long but I hope you enjoy!! 😊

Two Braids Is All It Takes

Remus was always there. Whenever Sirius needed him, his Moony was always there.

Of all the things in the sob story that was Sirius’ life, Remus had been a consistent source of comfort. The lingering scent of chocolate and fresh parchment had been -is- one just as much.

This particular full moon had been horrendous. The toll it had taken on Remus’ body had had him prone in bed for two whole days. To top it all off, Sirius had received a howler from his mother this morning.

Sirius had been brooding the rest of the day, berating himself for being so pathetic that he couldn’t even get himself to comfort Moony. He hadn’t even responded to James’ words of comfort.

“James,” Sirius began, voice still thick with tears, “You should go-“

“No, Siri-“

“James.”

Prongs shut his eyes, steadying himself, and bowed his head.

He looked up after a few seconds, having made a decision.

"You’ll be okay right?” His tone was anxious, “I’ll send for Wormtail, wait-“

“Prongs,” Sirius put a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off, “Just leave me be. I’ll be fine. You should go to Moons, I’ll try to come by later.”

The couch cushions shifted as James got to his feet and moved to the door. He turned back to give Sirius one last look-over before offering him a small smile. Sirius returned it rather weakly.

Sirius screwed his eyes shut. Now James was gone too. Had his mother been right? Would he always be this alone? His miserable thoughts gave way to new tears. He bit his lip hard, choking on a sob. He took deep breaths but they only seemed to start the sobs anew.

Today was the evening of third day, and Remus insisted that he was better. Madam Pomfrey spent nearly an hour confirming it, and after bettering his remaining daylight hours with one last sticky, sour potion, left him to his own devices.

James told him of Sirius’ condition then, and Remus asked to meet him, despite James’ protests that he should return to the dorms to rest. Ultimately, Prongs gave out a resigned sigh and got Remus to the Gryffindor Common Room with Wormtail’s help

The three padded softly into the place, Remus looking just as anxious to check on Sirius as was James. The man in question, however, was so out of it that he didn’t even register their entry.

Peter sighed in long-sufferance. He whispered, “I think it’ll be better if we leave him with you, Rem.”

“Moony, I think you’re the only one who can get through to him right now,” James murmured, “He refused to say a word when I tried”

“I’ll try,” Remus paused, still staring at Sirius’ pitiful form. He smiled at his friends, “You guys should go get some sleep, you must be exhausted from all the running.”

The two helped Remus as he limped to the couch. Once he managed to stand with the support of the couch’s backrest, he waved them away and listened to the sound of their footsteps fading up the staircase followed by that of a door creaking shut.

Remus accio’d a nearby chair and sat down heavily. His eyes moved to Sirius, and before he knew it, his hands were carding through Sirius’ tangled, knotted hair. There was a jolt as Sirius startled himself out of Remus’ grasp, and relaxed evidently once he realized whose smiling face it was.

He looks so pretty like this, was all Remus could think, I don’t deserve him.

He lifted himself off the chair with great effort, moving to the front of the couch, settling down next to Sirius. He placed his left foot on the ground and stretched his right leg across the couch onto Sirius’ lap, leaning against the armrest. Sirius tracked his movements with an absent look in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sirius said abruptly, eyes coming back into focus.

“That isn’t for you to decide,” Remus replied casually, “I feel better, because everything feels better when you’re around”

Remus suspected it was a mixture of the late hour and mild relief from three days of agony that was allowing him to say and do things he’d regret later, but retrospect can’t hurt in the moment, can it?

Sirius froze for a second, a blush creeping across his face as he processed the statement.

Remus whooped internally, he’d provoked a rare moment of uncertainty from Sirius, even though the context he would have to give to James to explain his achievement would be wildly embarrassing.

Clearing his throat, Sirius shifted towards where his face lay on the couch, “Is your leg better?”

"Yeah, much better.” Remus hesitated, thinking vaguely of consequences, though it was kind of hard to do while he was distracted by Sirius’ moonlit, godly face, the firelight throwing his freckles and scars into aggravating focus.

“Lay down” Remus said finally.

“I’m not your dog,” Sirius growled, earning a chuckle from the other man.

“Merlin, Pads….” Remus sat up himself, a small distance away from Padfoot.

“Okay, sit down here.” He says, nodding to the place on the floor where his sock-clad feet are resting.

Sirius eyed the floor dubiously.

“Just humour me, will you?”

Sirius still looked puzzled, but complied nonetheless. Leaning cautiously against the werewolf’s legs, he crumpled the letter held in his hand, his clouded gaze staring vacantly at the dying flames in the heart.

Remus smiled minutely, and brought his hands up to Sirius’ hair, tugging gently at the strands like his mother used to do to soothe him. He continued to do so as Sirius’ body starts loosening up.

After a while, Remus probed, "You wanna talk about it?" Sirius hummed before answering with a small smile,"Same old crap." Remus let out a light chuckle and shifted his hands to massage Sirius' head.

Sirius moved himself to lie on Remus' chest. He felt home, a home he'd never felt in the house of the Blacks. It smelled like home, it felt like home. To him, it was always home and it would always be so.

The silence continued, until Remus stopped with his actions. Sirius, who was almost asleep let out a groan before opening his eyes. "Moons," he said with a sleepy voice. Getting up from his chest, Sirius looked at a frozen Remus. Panicking he asked, "Moony..Moony! You alright?" Snapping out of his thoughts, Remus looked at Sirius and smiled.

"Moons?" Sirius questioned again.

"Can I braid your hair?" Remus posed casually.

This was the second time Sirius had frozen with a flushed face that night. Remus couldn't believe it, but he smirked at the effect he had on the man.

"Can I braid your hair, Pads?" Remus asked again.

The idea of braiding, Lily and Marlene had suggested it and even offered to do so but he had refused it. The only thing going through his head at the moment was- moons wants to braid my hair!!

"Ahem, Pads?" Remus said bringing Padfoot back to earth from his heaven. "Ah, yes... sorry, I was just a little surprised... ofcourse please go ahead," he rambled. He mentally cursed himself for doing so and turning away he placed his now red face in his hands. He could feel himself burning up because Merlin, Moony is going to braid his hair.

He straightened himself and sat in anticipation. Moony brought his hands to Sirius' hair and played with it while deciding which braid to do. Remus combed Sirius' hair with his fingers and the tension in his body eased out. He started to breathe evenly as Remus began parting his hair and pulling his strands into what felt like curls around one another.

French tails, that's what Remus ended up with two small, cute little french plaits. Five minutes ago, he couldn't decide what to do since the idea had struck him so suddenly. Playing with Sirius' hair had reminded him of his mother. Hope had taught Remus baking, cooking, knitting and plaiting his mother's hair. She was the only person he did it for.

But now, in front of him sat the man he loved, in two French plaits, the first braided hair his mum taught him. In front of him, sat a man staring at himself in a mirror he ran to pick up from across the room, which probably belonged to Marlene but it didn't matter. Sirius was smiling, that was all Remus would ever need.

Remus looked down and grinned. He felt proud but more ecstatic than anything. Sirius got up and jumped, laughed and said things which Remus didn't care to hear because oh merlin he's so handsome.

He was fighting the urge to get up and kiss him, confess to him and tell him that he loved him, he truly did.

On the other hand, Sirius jumped up and down looking at his Moony and shouted, "These are amazing Moons! You are amazing!" Sirius could've sworn that he almost thought leaping at Remus and kissing him but no.. this would be enough.

He smiled brightly at him once again, as Remus now regained consciousness from his thoughts. "I'm glad you like it," he said clearing his throat. He slowly got up and raised his hand to caress Sirius' hair but accidentally tripped. Sirius instantly grabbed the man by his waist and smiled," Woah, careful there Moons." "I keep falling for you, I can't help it you idiot," Remus said arbitrarily.

Again, Sirius thought, it's the third time this night moons please. His hands moved from the man's waist to his neck. Sirius lunged forward causing his and Remus' lips to crash. The kiss lasted a good minute before Sirius pulled away.

"I like you.." they said together and broke into giggles.

"Thank God you do," Remus said blushing.

"Ofcourse I do, boyfriend," Sirius teased making Remus more flustered.

And now all Sirius had to think about was, getting Moony to braid his hair because oh merlin there was nothing better than- Moony, his Moony.

And now the two lied curled up on the couch with Remus thinking, two braids is all it takes.

Ok please I'm not amazing or anything but I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thank you @alex-tries for helping me correct my silly mistakes

Tagging: @star-dust-2317 here! Hope u like it

[wovenstarlight]

YWBK update: chapter 25 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 25 here, or start from the beginning here

okay, on to notes and commentary! first time i’m doing these, let’s hope this works out. commentary under the cut to save people’s dashes

Hamin laughs. “Given how bad you are at not being suspicious, that’s understandable.” “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” Hamin screws up his whole face in a squint. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little bad.”

this part was really funny to me when i wrote it because i was like “hmm reasons for DHM to understand why HHJ wouldn’t work in the guild” and then i was like Wait. Their Whole First Meeting, Dude. DHM was lowkey convinced for the longest time that HHJ was like, on the run from the KR version of the mafia, and got plastic surgery to look like his little brothers, and is possibly in some sort of witness protection program??? or something??? how else does he not have cops on his ass this man is so suspicious all the time

“I don’t think… They said the dungeons were, like, different worlds? Did they find people there?”

mafia theory second place. dungeon theory first place

“Like, humans? Um. No, no humans.” “So then you can’t be from there. Okay.”

dungeon theory shot down. mafia theory back in the running

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “I’m— I’m gonna go get us some water, okay? Why don’t you… take a minute.” “Okay.” “The bathroom is over there, if you need it.” “Okay. Thank you.”

after four years working alongside a guy you start to notice when he’s feeling a little out of it and needs a bit of a break... but as JHW mentions later you also learn to be a little subtle about giving him one

jung heewon What’s with your typing? It reads like Jihye’s [HYJ]’s fine. Very energetic Too energetic? He’s going to burn out. How do I make him calm down

Epic Burnout Man makes a reappearance! when translating sclass one of the things that makes me want to shake HYJ most is his habit of constantly adding things to his to-do list while he already has 1 billion things on his plate. and all the time he’s whining about “UGH there’s SO MUCH WORK to do” No One Asked You To Do It

Anyway. the point is. HYJ isn’t about to be beat by HHJ at Developing Issues 😔

jung heewon I haven’t spoken to him directly about this because if he’s anything like you he’ll take it as an insult You wtf whts tht supposed 2 mean quit typing jung heewon Better not say shit, mr “No, I can’t take days off and cater to my interests or go out with friends or on a date, I’m too busy taking care of the kids and making sure their needs are met, no I don’t care that there are thousands of people out there balancing personal enjoyment and romance and work AND kids at the same time, are you suggesting I be a BAD GUARDIAN to MY KIDS?”

see above re: not being too direct with pointing out when HHJ’s having Issues because he doesn’t react well

You wht but our eyes r fine jung heewon Even if having glasses doesn’t run in the family, you should still get him checked, just in case

top 10 funny time travel moments: referring to you and your past self as “us” (our = my eyes are fine), but other people think you mean “our family” (our eyes are fine = no family history of long/shortsightedness)

Also. Sooyoung-ie says hi [Attachment: 20XX1213_144516.jpg] 

ok no lie this was one of the parts that pissed me off the most, even though it’s Literally One Line, because. i love chat exchanges. i really do. when done right they’re a lot of fun to read. But Do You Know How Long It Took Me To Figure Out A Calendar For The Events In This Fic. now everything’s TIMED i have to count HOW MANY DAYS IT’S BEEN since XY event so i can CORRECTLY NUMBER the FILE ATTACHMENTS!!! this sucks!!! it took me fucking forever to pin down a timeline just so i could write this chapter plus the few before and after it!!!!

anyway i gave up when i reached year. i just put 20XX. fuck it. we are running on fairy tail time now. (actually i think that’s XXnumber number? XX76? or was it X796. something like that. Who cares i stopped watching fairy tail forever ago)

Fuck it! Hamin will understand!! “If you Awaken you should come work with me,” Han Hyunjae says all in a rush. 

“HAMIN WILL UNDERSTAND” => he literally was cool with me giving zero context for half a dozen absolute balls to the wall nonsense bullshit things i’ve done before. he’ll be fine with this too. dog_in_burning_house_this_is_fine.png

“You already know about the guilds, those are going to be for dungeon Hunters, but I was thinking of forming something like an independent group of contractors. Awakened people with skills that aren’t useful for combat, but that might… that will be generally useful. It’d be you and me, and maybe one other guy I met recently. Probably more in the future.”

given that HHJ has no idea currently that peace exists (i’m so sorry baby i’ll find a way to shoehorn you in soon i miss you so much) he’s got no intentions to start a kiseungsu business yet! he mostly wants to live quietly while just acting as a manager for other Awakening-related services, like YMW’s forge and DHM’s tracking service, along with the information exchange/lowkey spy ring that he’s planning on setting up with JHW and the bar. since HYH is fine associating with him in this timeline, HHJ’s thinking he can get a foot in the door that way, then eventually spread out into dealings with most major guild leaders

RIP to this plan. you were well-made but you will not last long.

“Please, I can’t tell you how I know that, I really can’t, it’d put me and my brothers in danger if it got out. But—” “No need.” Hamin looks slightly alarmed, and Han Hyunjae feels himself settle at the obvious concern in his eyes.

MAFIA THEORY RAPIDLY RISING TO PROMINENCE??? THIS IS NOT HOW DO HAMIN WANTED HIS GUESS CONFIRMED

“I spoke to the Task Force Head and she said that there’s been discussion about hosting a meeting for the nearby high-rankers, where they’ll announce the guild proposal and see who else is interested in trying it out.”

“they’ll announce” i’m sorry king 💔 you deserved a nap

(OH ALSO FUN FACT choi eunyoung is a canon character, not an OC of mine! she appears in uhhh i think late 140s? 150s? something like that)

“I think there’s… probably only one other S-rank who’s Awakened right now?”

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehhehe

Hamin beams. “No, they’re doing great! Spookie’s taken really well to the new housing situation, but I think Spots might miss the store…”

shoutout to @daemonic-dawn​ for letting me borrow a pet name, love u king. i had a much longer ramble about pet names here but i finished typing and realized it was all entirely off topic so i removed it for convenience

Hyunjae makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t— I mean.” He huffs, visibly taking a deep breath, and Yoojin frowns reflexively. [...] “Is everything alright?” Yoojin kind of wants to be annoyed at his tone on principle, but he forces his shoulders to relax, matching Hyunjae’s posture. Though he can’t stop himself from being a little short when he answers.

things the brothers have learned in four years living together: getting confrontational often leads to arguments that just fizzle out anyway, so it’s way fucking easier to consciously tone down their combativeness in advance when talking to each other about things they have problems with, instead of screaming their heads off and then having to calm yoohyun down afterwards to boot

“I guess. Whatever.” Yoojin slumps. “Can I…” “Hm?” Hyunjae blinks at Yoojin as he gestures to the spot on the bed beside him, then jolts. “Oh! Yeah, sure, c’mere.” He opens his arms, and Yoojin goes over and flumps on the bed, head in Hyunjae’s lap. Almost immediately, Hyunjae starts stroking fingers through his hair, and Yoojin relaxes into the touch, listening as Hyunjae continues speaking.

cuddles 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i don’t have any other commentary here just. cuddles. extremely and overwhelmingly comforting for a man who spent the better part of 8 years(?) with no major positive relationships, and a kid who spent 12 years of early life basically abandoned by his parents. you had best bet they gave up on not hugging each other 1 year into this whole mess

Yoojin hums in acknowledgement. It’s not like he’d ever let himself get hurt; he has too many responsibilities to his family and friends. If he wants to be good enough to keep up, he can’t afford to fuck up like that. But… hyung will worry if he keeps working so hard. He can slow down a little for him. 

Problems disorder man when will you stop. the way he sees “getting hurt” as an inconvenience and an obstacle to his duties rather than a danger to himself. the way he doesn’t really care if he himself gets hurt, but if it’ll worry his family, then it’s a no-no. it’s just. wow. i know i wrote this but i hate him

“Not really. I talk to Myeongwoo about it sometimes.” “Ah, right, Myeongwoo.”

haha gays

“Don’t be weird about him,” Yoojin warns[...]. “I won’t, promise.”

if the “i won’t” line had a dialogue tag it’d be “Han Hyunjae lied”

“Is Eunwoo still in his relationship?” “Mhm, happy as ever. Apparently they’re trying long-distance, now that Eunwoo’s gone off to university abroad.”

three guesses for who eunwoo’s dating and you won’t need the first two

Hyunjae raises his hands like he’s going to deny the accusations levelled against him, so Yoojin seizes him by the collar and shakes him until he cries for mercy

oh my o/rv ass struggled so bad with not writing “shakes him like a man betrayed” here. it killed me not to. but in the end i prevailed (against, uh, myself. don’t think about it too hard.)

“Jeez, okay, he’s an F-rank!” “Eh?! Then why—” “He’s also got an SS-rank potential skill,” Hyunjae admits[...].

play-by-play of this scene because god if i draw any scene in this fic it would be this one just for the sheer hysterical nature of HYJ’s reaction:

YOOJIN: I HATE YOU WHAT THE FUCK WHY. TELL ME HIS RANK

HYUNJAE: HE’S AN F

YOOJIN: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

HYUNJAE: he’s also got an SS-rank skill,

YOOJIN:

[cutie1365]

Winchester Part 2/4

Pairing: Sherlock x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Violence, language, blood

A/N: Part 1 can be found on my masterlist, which is in my bio! If you’d like to be tagged in this or any of my works, there’s a link in my bio to a google form. If you comment to be added, I’ll add you, but sometimes the notification gets lost.

Any and all feedback is welcome and encouraged :)

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Your brothers were set to arrive any minute now after hopping on the first flight they could get out of Kansas. John accompanied you in picking them up from the airport, as Sherlock still thought this whole thing was ridiculous, and you couldn’t exactly blame him. Sure, it sounded crazy, it’s downright biblical, but you had known better than to doubt the existence of such beings.

“Are those your brothers?” John asked, turning to you with a raised brow as he saw the two men approaching with their sights set on you.

“Yup.” You smiled, it’s been years since you’ve seen them, even though they check in every few months.

“Jesus, I didn’t know you were part giant,” John laughed, pausing for a moment before turning to you with a more serious tone, “Wait, are giants real too?”

“Don’t be silly John,” You laughed, and he looked relieved, “Dragons are though.”

“No way.” He deadpanned.

“They’ve got a thing for virgins.” You nodded.

“Now you’re just playing with me.” He shook his head, and you smiled to make him think you were joking... and you really wished you were.

The boys had made it out of the gate and you ran and jumped into Dean’s arms as he dropped his duffel bag.

“There’s my girl.” He chuckled, hugging you and spinning you around.

“Sammy!” You hugged him next, you saw him eyeing your injuries with a sad smile. He wanted you to get out of this life. Hell, he’d even helped you get out of it, and here you were, right back at square one.

You were smiling wide, glad to be back with your family when you saw Dean eyeing the man next to you.

“Oh, this is my friend John Watson. John these are my brothers Sam and Dean.” You introduced them, pointing between your brothers as they moved to shake John’s hand.

“So what’s the plan?” Sam asked as they gathered their bags and you began to walk outside to hail a cab.

“We’ve been doing some research and triangulating local news clippings and sightings. We may have a location. Sherlock’s at Scotland Yard looking into if there’s been any other suspicious murders in the area that could help us lock down their hunting ground. He’ll meet us back at the flat after we get any supplies we need.” You explained, as the boys followed you and you raised your hand out into the street, a black cab stopping and pulling over for you.

“Good, we’ll get to work.” Sam nodded.

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

With duffel bags freshly filled with supplies for the hunt, Dean and Sam followed you up the stairs to 221B Baker Street.

From the top of the stairs you could see Sherlock in his usual chair, donning a white dress shirt and black pants, with a file open on his lap. As he saw you enter the room he closed the file and stood to greet you and your new guests.

“Did you find any more?” You pointed to the file in his hands.

“Two stabbings with the same weapon, bodies found this morning on opposite sides of London, no apparent connection between the victims.” Sherlock handed you the file, you furrowed your brows as you flipped it open and read it, before realizing your brothers were still silently standing behind you waiting to be introduced.

“Shit, sorry. Sherlock these are my brothers Sam and Dean. Boys, this is Sherlock Holmes.” You motioned between them, before drawing your attention back to the files.

You looked up to see Dean giving Sherlock a dirty look that was no doubt meant to threaten him since you hadn’t introduced him as a friend like you did with John. No matter how old you got, he’d always be your protective older brother. You slyly elbowed him in the ribs, and he cracked a smile as he shook Sherlock’s hand.

“These kills look nothing like the first,” You flipped through the photos included in the files, “I mean, the weapon is the same. Looks like an angel blade, but they’re so much more... violent, messy. Overkill.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement as you handed the file to your brothers. Sam took it and began scouring the pages.

“You just had to go and piss off some demons, huh?” Dean raised a brow after seeing the bloody photos.

“Yes Dean, because I did this on purpose.” You said sarcastically, with a roll of your eyes.

“I’m just saying.” Dean shrugs.

“Bitch.” You shook your head at him.

“Jerk.” He retorted with the common reply shared by the three of you.

“You’re just cranky because you hate flying.” You put your hands on your hips and smirked at him.

“I’m not cranky.” He whined, causing you to raise a brow in a sort of are you sure about that? kind of way.

“Oh yes you are,” you chuckled, “Come on, let’s get you some coffee.”

Dean followed you into the kitchen as you began gathering a few mugs and pouring the black liquid from the pot into them. Dean’s eyes danced around all the scientific equipment in the kitchen.

“Does Dr. fucking Frankenstein live here?” He asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Whatever you do, don’t open the freezer.” You handed him his coffee with a smirk.

“That’s a joke right, please tell me you’re joking.” He called after you as you left the kitchen without another word, praying he didn’t stumble upon the fingers in the freezer. While he looked like a tough guy, he was a little squeamish when it came to dismemberment.

As you reentered the living room you smiled at the sight of John and Sam chatting and organizing all the supplies. It was nice to see them getting along, and John not thinking this entire operation was crazy. You approached Sherlock’s chair and handed him the cup you’d prepared just the way he likes it - black, two sugars. He accepted it with a smile as you sat in the wooden ‘client chair’ that had been pulled next to him.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly.

He hesitated for a second, likely deciding how honest he wanted to be in his reply.

“That we may just have a serial killer on our hands who’s escalating and devolving.” He answered, and you nodded.

“In a way you’re right.” You smiled, you knew this wasn’t easy for him to understand. You weren’t mad that he was sceptical. Hell, you would be too if you didn’t grow up the way you did.

“Hmm.” He hummed in dissatisfaction as you stood up and smiled, placed a hand on his arm reassuringly, giving him a little squeeze, before walking back towards the kitchen.

You sat at the counter flipping through the files once more, making sure there wasn’t anything you were all missing. You didn’t like walking into a hunt unprepared. There were only so many things you could control, and you never wanted lack of research to cause your downfall.

The four men were gathering the final supplies together in the living room, preparing to leave soon.

John had noticed Sam’s tattoo as they were moving things around.

“What’s it mean?” John pointed to his own collar bone, really just trying to make conversation.

“Anti-possession sigil,” Dean explained as they pulled down the collar of their shirt to expose their warding tattoos, “We’ve all got one.”

“Y/N doesn’t have any tattoos.” Sherlock shook his head, causing everyone to turn to you with wide eyes.

You almost choked on your coffee, before placing the glass down. Your brothers raised a brow at you, both for different reasons. Sam was worried, you could tell.

You sighed, turning towards the group and pulling your shirt and bra strap down your shoulder, exposing the bare untattooed skin. Sam worried once you got out of that life, you would have done something stupid like try to get it removed, leaving you vulnerable.

You took one more glance at Sherlock, hoping he wouldn’t think any different of you. He looked on with furrowed brows, watching hesitantly.

You rubbed your fingers hard against your skin, slowly revealing the tattoo below, covered with makeup. Your eyes met Sams and he looked relieved.

“What?” Sherlock came closer to examine the tattoo, how had he not noticed it before? Him of all people? He raised his finger to brush against the tinted skin, imagining the pain the needle must have caused. You weren’t the type of person to get a tattoo, you hated needles and he knew this. So the fact that you put yourself through that wasn’t to be taken lightly.

He backed away cautiously, obviously deep in thought. This didn’t mean he believed you yet, but he did have a lot of questions, per usual.

As Sam went over the plan with John and Sherlock once more, Dean approached you as you pulled your shirt back up your shoulder.

“Don’t think we’re not gonna talk about how he knew that.” Dean tilted his head and gave you a disapproving look.

“Dean...” You sighed, you were an adult, you shouldn’t have to explain yourself.

“So is it serious?” He glazed back towards Sherlock who was listening intently to Sam.

“Can we not do this now?” You whispered, not wanting them to overhear.

“Is it?” Dean asked once more, his tone more demanding.

“Yes, ok. I wouldn’t have dragged him into this mess if it wasn’t.” You shook your head, a pang of guilt rushing through you. You knew if any of them got hurt today, it was on your head.

“I don’t think he’s taking this seriously.” Dean shook his head, noticing how Sherlock’s not been the most active in the preparations for the hunt, and you couldn’t blame him.

“He’s a graduate chemist and a detective. He relies on science and facts. We can’t just expect him to believe in fairy tales with no proof.” You tried to explain, but Dean wasn’t exactly convinced.

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

The five of you stood outside an empty warehouse on the outskirts of the city that you had traced to be their hideout. They were demons on the run, rogues, they couldn’t risk blending in anymore. They had to lay low.

“We sure this is the place?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“It’s our best shot.” Sam nodded.

“You ready?” Dean turned back to you and asked, eyeing Sherlock and John behind you.

“Let’s go.” You cocked the shotgun Dean had given you with special salt filled bullets.

You turned back to Sherlock and John one last time before you went in.

“Try to stay behind me, but shoot if you have to.” You instructed them, Dean had given them some bullets he’d made with holy water in them that fit into the guns they already own. They nodded, realizing this was really about to happen.

Sam kicked down the door of the warehouse, the boys taking lead. Two demons bolted up from their chairs at a makeshift table in the middle of the room. At least you had the element of surprise on your side, they weren’t expecting you. While their vessels were new, their eyes immediately turned black, and you knew you were in the right place. They looked worried, they knew they were outnumbered.

One immediately ran at you, and you fired your shotgun. The salt burned into his chest. It slowed him down, but it also pissed him off. He ran at you once more, while you pulled an iron knife from your waistband. As he charged at you, you buried the knife into his abdomen and twisted as he screamed in pain, the iron burning his skin.

He fell back onto the floor and you were able to pin him down, holding the iron blade against his neck as he squirmed.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” You began to mutter the exorcism in Latin, angering him even more.

The demon kicked you off of him, sending you flying into the wooden table they were sitting as when you came in. You held your head for a moment as your vision blurred. You tried to focus and center yourself, as you saw the demon charge towards you once more. Your gun sat on the floor a few feet away as you tried to reach for it in time. When your head turned you heard a shot ring out, and whipped your head back. Sherlock had his arm raised, still pointing his gun at the demon who screamed in pain again. The holy water hurt him, but it didn’t kill him.

You turned to see that your brothers had trapped his partner in a salt circle, and Sam was now exorcising him. You made eye contact with Dean and he nodded, tossing you Ruby’s demon killing knife. You jumped to your feet, catching the blade and charging at the demon before you in one swift movement.

He must have realized what you were holding. You lunged at him, blade extended, you braced for impact. But the moment before the knife sunk into his chest, the demon escaped from his vessel. A black cloud swirling out of his mouth and disappearing into the night.

“Dammit!” You yelled, ripping the knife out of the already deceased vessel.

Sam and Dean turned around at the sound of your voice. You turned to see they had successfully exorcised the other demon, sending him back to hell. Crowley wouldn’t go easy on a rogue who wasn’t following his orders, his fate was sealed.

“You good?” Dean asked, offering you a hand as you sat on the floor next to the unmoving body.

“I had him.” You growled, placing your hand in Deans and letting him pull you to your feet.

“We’ll find him, don’t worry.” Sam tried to reassure you, but you shook your head in anger, not wanting to listen to him coddle you.

“What the hell just happened?” John asked with wide eyes, unsure of what he just witnessed.

“We got one of them, but the other left his vessel and escaped. He could be miles away by now.” Dean explained, wiping some blood from his lip where the dead demon’s fist had caught him.

“So what do we do now?” Sherlock asked, putting his gun away.

“Back to square fucking one.” You huffed, pushing through the group of men and back towards the entrance of the warehouse.

Obviously you were angry, you had him on the ropes. He was right there, but you couldn’t finish the job.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow to Sam, silently questioning if he should go after you. He’d never seen you like this. He’s never seen you fire a gun, let alone fight like that and stab a man... twice. This was a whole new side of you, one he understood why you kept hidden. He wanted to make sure you were ok.

Sam shook his head, raising a hand to stop Sherlock from moving. He knew how you got after a hunt that didn’t go as planned,  and no one deserved to be on the receiving end of that fight. It was best if they let you be, they’d learned that lesson the hard way many years ago. It seems as though all these years have passed, nothing really changed.

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

Taglist in reblog. Masterlist in bio.

[fangirlfanwritings]

Chris Evans Request

Can I have a Chris Evans siblings hate you because of what the media says like you only wat him for fame and money so they make you brake up and than they see how upset Chris is and they call you and apologize and if you want you can add more like something dramatic in between pls and can it also be long pls and thank you love your work

Hey I was wondering if you can do one were Chris Evans parents don’t trust the reader and think she just want him for money or fame and they trade her badly until it to much and Chris talks to them and they try to apologize but she’s to hurt and you can go from there if you like. And I understand if you don’t want to make this I just really like your page

 To say you were nervous was an understatement. This was going to be your first time meeting Chris’ parents and siblings in the 3 months that you two had been dating. You two had been laying low but thanks to the media finding out about you and broadcasting it everywhere, you decided to venture out together and take a cross country trip. 

You pulled up to Chris’ parents home and took a deep breath. “Hey, don’t worry. They are going to love you.”

“I hope you’re right,” you took his hand and walked up to the door with him. You watched as his parents and siblings gave him big hugs. Though they were nice and greeted you with smiles, you could sense the apprehension when they said hello. You all sat down for dinner and the room grew awkwardly quiet. “So Y/N,” his Mother finally spoke up. “What do you do for work?”

“I’m actually in between jobs right now,” you admitted. “I’m in education though. My job before was teaching middle school science.” They all nodded in response. 

“Y/N is very smart and is great with kids,” Chris spoke up on your behalf. “Plus, she’s been a big help with the little bit of tour I’ve had to do for interviews. She’s been keeping Doger for me and he loves her.”

“Oh you’ve been staying at his house,” his sister asked?

“Just while he’s been out of town. I’m looking for a new place right now so he was nice enough to let me stay there for a couple weeks while he was out of town.”

After a long and uncomfortable dinner, for you at least, the family all broek apart to help clean up, watch some sports, and catch up with each other. You were unpacking your and Chris’ luggage when his sister knocked on his bedroom door. “Come in. Oh hi,”you said when you saw her.

“Hey,” she let herself in and closed the door behind her. “I just wanted to have a talk.”

“Ok, whats up?”

“I just want to speak for everyone real quick. What is going on with you and Chris?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“You and Chris, what do you want out of this relationship with him?”

“I mean we haven’t been dating long but we’ve kind of talked about our long term goals together.”

“No, I mean what do you want with him? What do you really want? Because from everything we’ve all seen online and from what we heard at dinner, you’re unemployed, you don’t seem to have a place of your own, and it honestly seems like you’re after his money.”

“You-you guys all think this?”

“It’s hard not to. Chris is a great guy, Y/N. He’s been burned before and he doesn’t deserve to be played.” She left without another word and you stood and looked at the wall for a couple minutes. Knowing you couldn’t stay at the house, you began packing all your things up.

“Hey Babe, you want to go see...what are you doing?” Chris stopped when he saw you packing.

“I have to go back.”

“Go back? We just got here.”

“I know, I’m sorry but I have to go back.”

“Why? What happened?”

You had to think of something quick. “Some big problem with my new place.”

“Well, let me pack and we can head out.”

“No, Chris, you stay here.”

“You don’t want me to come and help?”

“Chris,” you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself. “I don’t think this is going to work. Not right now, with how busy you’re about to be with filming and how busy I’ll be.”

“Are you...are you breaking up with me?”

“I think so,” you tried not to cry. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked and you ran past him and out of the house. 

Once everyone saw you leave the house with your bag they made their way up to Chris’ room. He was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. “Hey Bud,” his brother said. “You alright?”

“No, I’m not. Y/N just ended things with me and I have no idea why.”

“Maybe it was for the best, Chris. It seems like she has some stuff to figure out,” his Dad spoke up.

“What do you mean?”

“Well she doesn’t have a job and she doesn’t even have a place to live.” When he saw their looks and heard the tone from his Father he realized what they thought. 

“You guys don’t know anything about her,” he defended you. She said she was between jobs because the low income school she taught at before had budget cuts. They were going to keep her because she’s an amazing teacher and all the kids love her, but another teacher in her department couldn’t afford to lose the insurance because his wife is sick. She flips houses and makes a bunch of money off that so she decided to focus on that until she found another teaching job.

“The two weeks she stayed at my place was one, to watch Doger, and two because she finished the house she was working on and sold it. She was in the middle of buying her next one and needed a place to stay while it got finalized. What did you guys think?”

“We thought she was after you for your name and money.”

“You’re kidding? Did you say that to her?” They were quiet. “I can’t freaking believe this!” He shot up and threw all of his stuff back into this bag.

“Where are you going?”

“To try and catch her at the airport! I can’t believe you all. Y/N is probably the kindest person I’ve ever been with. And you guys assume that because she isn’t making millions that she’s after my money? Unbelievable.”

“We just wanted to protect you.”

“Well in doing so you might have ruined my one chance at happiness.” Chris grabbed his bag and left the house.

******

You sat at the airport and tried to keep your mind off of everything, you did not want to put on a show for everyone in the terminal. Your phone began ringing you and didn’t recognize the number. “Hello,” you answered cautiously, expecting a late night telemarketer.

“Y/N?” You recognized Chris’ brother’s voice on the other end. 

“Um...hi. How did you get my number?”

“We found it after you both left. It looks like your luggage tag fell out on your way out.”

“Your sister made the point very clear about what you all think of me. I don’t want to cause trouble between you and Chris, so what do you want? Why call me?”

“We wanted to apologize. We let what we read get in the way of giving you a real chance. Chris explained everything and we just wanted to tell you how truly sorry we are. We feel worse than you can know. Please don’t let what we said get in the way of you two being happy. You mean more to him than you know.”

“I appreciate the apology, I really do. I just don’t want him having to choose between you guys and me.”

“He’s already made that choice, Y/N, and rightfully so. The second he found out what happened he packed up and left.”

“He left?”

“Yeah, he said he was going to catch you at the airport.”

“Y/N!” You heard your name and turned to see Chris jogging towards you. 

“I have to go.” You muttered and hung up the phone. “What are you doing here? You should have stayed for your visit.”

“I wasn’t going to stay there, not when I knew what happened. I’m sorry they were like that, they meant well I guess but I let them have it. You didn’t deserve that. And I need you two know that you’re it for me. You’re who I want my family to be at the end of the day, and if I have to run away with you to prove it I will, no question.”

“Chris-”

“No, listen, what they did was awful. They don’t know you like I do, and if you can forgive them eventually and let them get to know you that would be fantastic. If you can’t ever feel comfortable around them and they never get to know you like I do, then that’s their fault. But either way, I’m with you.”

“You really mean that?” He nodded his head.

“Maybe we can invite your family out to come visit in a month or so?”

“I think they’d like that,” he grinned.

[queenismyprimejive]

There is a first time for everything – Present! Roger Taylor – Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Roger’s 71st birthday is only a few days away and you have no idea what to give Roger as a present. What do you give to a man who has almost everything and the money to buy it? Luckily, your best friend has a couple of ideas up her sleeve that might solve your dilemma.

W/C: 4,368 (she is long)

Perspective: You-perspective, reader-insert, use of Y/N. I plan on putting this in each of my future fics, just because I tend to switch between the two perspectives in writing.

Warnings: Some fluff, some smut, some naughty things happening,  people saying fuck a lot, you know, the usual.

A/N: None.

Tagging:

@joeneslee​

@hodgepodge-of-rog​

@ceres27​

@queen-paladin​

@march-of-all-queens

@jennyggggrrr​

@rhapsodyrecs

“So, do you have any idea what you’re going to give Roger for his birthday next Sunday?” your best friend asked you as she took a sip of her coffee.

Your best friend and you were on your bi-weekly coffee date, or at least you tried to meet up every two weeks as the both of you had terribly busy lives. As of right now, Roger’s birthday was coming up in the next three days and you hadn’t found anything for him yet. And time was running out fast.

“Nooo”, you whined as you took another sip of your almost cold coffee, “and his birthday is this Sunday, what am I gonna do?”

“I might have an idea”, she smirked. The look on her face didn’t predict a lot of good, and you were a bit apprehensive to find out what she had come up with.

“I’m almost to afraid to ask but what is it?”, you sighed.

“So, I know your relationship with Roger is fairly young, but…. have you guys had sex yet?”

“Natascha”, you scolded, “we’re in public!”

She laughed, “gosh Y/N, you’re such a prude sometimes, it’s a perfectly normal thing to talk about, but…. have you?”

You shook your head. “No, we haven’t, I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just, like, it’s a big step, and I don’t know whether I’m ready for it”.

“Do you love him?”, she asked.

You looked up at her in curiosity, “of course I do, why do you ask?”

“Well, since it’s his birthday it might be a good opportunity to take your relationship to the next level, if you know what I mean”.

“So, if I understand correctly, as a birthday present, you want me to have sex with him?” You raised an eyebrow at her.

“You don’t have to put it so crudely Y/N, you make me sound so unromantic. I’m just saying, I mean you’re going to see him for dinner on Sunday right?”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Well”, she continued, “why don’t you dress up extra nice, put on some sext lingerie, and see how the night unfolds from there. If it happens, it happens if it doesn’t, then no biggie. I know he’s a nice enough man to respect your boundaries”.

You twirled the necklace that Roger had given you a while back in your hands and smiles absentmindedly, “yeah he sure is”.

“What I’m trying to say is”, she started, “it doesn’t hurt to give it a shot, he loves you, you love him, what do you have to lose?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Absolutely nothing”.

“But only go through with this if you feel comfortable with it Y/N, I know what happened to you in the past, I don’t want to see it happen again”.

“It won’t”, you assured her, “I just hope he’s going to love it”.

You checked yourself in the mirror one last time before you had to go over to Roger’s for dinner. You were wearing a tight, dark navy blue dress, paired with black suede strappy heels. It wasn’t necessarily an outfit you would’ve chosen for yourself, but your best friend had picked it out for you, assuring you it looked absolutely gorgeous on you and that Roger would love it, and who would you be if you doubted your best friend?

“Wow love you look absolutely stunning”, Roger said in wonder while he let his eyes wander over your figure, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Happy Birthday Rog”, you smiled as you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his, “I love you”.

“I love you too darling, but to what do I owe this pleasure “, he said as he gestured towards your outfit of choice for the evening.

“What?, can’t a girl dress up nice for her man’s birthday”, you asked, feigning an innocent look as you twirled on the spot for him.

“Sure, she can, only one might think she has other intentions”, he replied, as you noticed his eyes turned ever so slightly in a darker shade of blue.

“Maybe”, you winked at him as you twirled a lock of your hair around your finger.

“Well, do you?”, Roger questioned.

“You’ll see Rog”, you said teasingly as you made your way towards the dining room.

The entire time you felt Roger’s eyes burning a hole in your back and you made a mental note to thank your best friend for picking out this dress. This was going to be fun.

“So, you haven’t told me what my birthday present is yet”, Roger remarked as the two of you sat huddled together on the couch with a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

“What makes you think you’re getting one Roger?”, you replied and smirked when you saw the feigned look of hurt on Roger’s face.

“Well love, with the way you look tonight, one might think she’s up to something, are you Y/N?”, he spoke softly as he carefully placed a hand on your thigh and rubbed the exposed skin there.

You watched down at his hand as it inched just a little bit higher than you were expecting.

“What are you up to Y/N?”, he whispered, “I mean I could guess but….”

“So, this really has been my best friends idea, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot”, you started as you grasped his hand that was placed on your thigh.

“What is it love?”, he questioned as he looked at me concerned.

“Well I’ve been thinking that this is a good opportunity for us to make the next step in our relationship?”, you said as you cautiously looked up at him.

“Really?, are you absolutely sure love, I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do.”

“That’s just it Rog, I really do want to, and I know you won’t hurt me Rog, I trust you, I love you, and I want you to show me how good it can be”.

He placed his hand back on your thigh as his other hand cupped your cheek. “Ok love, if you’re absolutely sure, but if at any point during the night you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, just say so and I will ok?”, he whispered as he grazed your lips with his thumb.

“I will Rog”, you smiled and closed the distance between the two of you to press your lips against his. At the moment your lips touched his, his eagerness took over. He pressed himself closer to you as he grazed your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for permission to deepen the kiss, which you granted without hesitation. You didn’t know a kiss could feel like this, his lips against yours, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling your chin, his tongue battling with yours, and you couldn’t help but to let out a moan against his lips, to which he grinned in the kiss.

“Come sit on my lap love”, he murmured against your lips as you shifted around just so that you could sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him.

He hungrily pressed his lips against yours again and you involuntarily grinded your hips against his, to which he let out a low groan against your lips as you pressed against the obvious hardness in his trousers. His hand slowly travelled upwards and grazed the underside of your breast. You smiled against his lips and in a bold move you took hold of is hand and placed it directly on top of it.

“Ready to take it to the bedroom love?”, he whispered against your lips.

“Yeah I think I’m ready”.

When you arrived in his bedroom, the nerves crept up on you again. This is really going to happen now.

Roger came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. “You still want to do this love?”

You turned around in his embrace and smiled up at him. “Positive Rog make love to me”.

“Well then”, he whispered as his hands moved from your waist down to your and pressed you flush against him, “we have to get you out of this dress now won’t we”.

“Please”, you whispered when he carefully unzipped your dress and slowly pushed it of your shoulders to pool at your feet.

You took a step back to step out of the dress, giving Roger a good look of what you had hidden beneath the dress.

“Well, what do you think”, you asked innocently while you spun around for him.

You felt very exposed as he looked you up and down. “Fuck Y/N, you look…. excuse my words love but you look absolutely exquisite”.

You blushed deeply at those words. Granted, you haven’t had many relationships in which you had felt desired, but right now, with Roger’s eyes on you felt you could do no wrong with him.

“So, I gather you like it?”, you asked shyly. You weren’t altogether used to receiving compliments like that so this was an entirely new experience for you.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind you and place a soft kiss on your lips. “I absolutely love it love, but I would love it even more if it were off of you, want to get on the bed for me love?”

You nodded slowly and lay on your back on top of the sheets. Roger never took his eyes off of you as he removed his jacket and shoes and made his way towards the bed.

“Now that’s not at all fair, now is it?”, you bit your lip as he crawled on top of you.

“All comes in good time Y/N”, he whispered against your lips, “this night is all about you and I want to make you feel good, is that OK with you?”

You nodded as you slowly stroke his beard-covered jaw and pecked him softly on his lips. “More than ok Rog, I love you”.

"I love you so much Y/N", he whispered softly before kissing you with so much fervour you gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth.

His fingers tickled your side as they travelled upwards to cup your breast. You couldn’t help but moan as he grazed your lace-covered nipple with his thumb at the same time he sucked a mark on your collarbone. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the thought of him hearing you. Sensing the shift in the air he looked up at you in amusement.

“Please love, don’t be embarrassed”, he spoke softly, “let me hear you, let me know how good I make you feel”.

“I will”, you said quietly as he reached behind your back and unclasped your bra.

“Is it ok if I do this love?”

You let your fingers slide down his chest.

“Only if I get to remove something off you too Rog”.

He seemed hesitant for a moment but agreed, nonetheless. You slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, all while never looking away from his penetrating gaze. You grazed the hem of the tank top and looked up in silent confirmation to take it off too, to which he nodded in consent.

With the tank top removed you could finally see him in all his glory. You let your hand graze up and down his arm, mesmerized by all the colourful tattoos etched into his skin.

“Gorgeous”, you whispered as you looked up at him.

A sentimental look crossed his face before leaning down and capturing your lips in a chaste kiss.

“My turn now”, he murmured as he unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere on the floor.

“Fucking beautiful Y/N”, he said as he enveloped one breast in his hand and slowly rolled a nipple between his fingers.

“Fuck….”, you breathed.

“Feel good love?”, he asked to which you bit your lip and nodded.

“How about this?”, he continued as he leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked on it carefully.

“Fuck Rog…. don’t stop”, you moaned, feeling the outline of his still clothed member pressing up against you as you bucked up at him.

“Want me to touch you love?”, he whispered, his mouth still pressed against your breast. His hand was rubbing slow circles on your lower tummy, close to where you wanted him to be but not close enough yet. Up till now this was the most intimate thing the two of you had ever done together, but you trusted Roger in knowing how to make you feel good. So, in a bold move you took his hand in yours and placed it exactly where you wanted him to be.

“Has anyone touched you here before?”, Roger asked as he started rubbing slow circles on your still lace-covered clit with his thumb.

You nodded silently, not trusting your voice to speak.

“And did they make you feel good?”, he continued as he pressed down a little harder on your clit.

You shook your head again in silence, and gasped as his fingers slipped below the waistband of your panties and slipped through your folds, “want me to make you feel good love?”

“Please….”, you croaked out.

With your permission, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

Now you were entirely naked in front of him and you had ever felt more exposed than you did right now, and you hugged your chest to preserve what little modesty you had.

“Don’t ever hide that beautiful body from me Y/N”, he said, his voice sounded hoarse. “Please don’t”, he said again and gently pulled your arms away from your body.

Your body heated up under his gaze as you relaxed against the cushions again and he settled in between your legs.

“If you want me to stop at any given moment, you’ll tell me ok?”

You nodded and bit your lip as he slightly spread your legs.

“So wet for me already”, he whispered as he slid a finger through your folds and brought it up to his lips to suck on the digit. You watched him intensely as he licked your wetness off his fingers and if biology worked that way, you could’ve come from that alone.

He pressed his finger against your folds again and slowly circled your entrance with it before slowly sliding a finger inside.

“How does this feel love?”, he asked as slowly started to pump his finger in and out of your pussy.

“Weird….”, you panted, “but good”.

“Want to try another finger?”

Before you could say anything you felt a second finger pressing up your entrance and after a little prodding his second finger joined the first one inside of you.

 “Better now?”, he smiled as his finger pressed a little deeper inside of you.

 “So full”, you moaned, “but so good”.

“Have you ever been licked down there before love?”

 You shook your head in embarrassment. Your previous boyfriend always wanted you to go down on them, but you never gotten returned the favour.

 “Do you want me to? If you don’t it’s fine but I have to tell you it’s my favourite way to get women off”, he winked.

 “I want to try”, you said quietly and with that Roger settled between your legs and licked a slow stripe from where his fingers moved in and out of your pussy all the way to your clit.

 “Ahh….. god”, you moaned at the new sensation as you bucked your hips up against his face, wanting more.

Roger said nothing but kept licking through your folds, both his tongue and his fingers kept an alternate rhythm between them which drove you completely off the wall.

You didn’t know which way was up or down anymore and you couldn’t stop the string of moaned and curses falling from your lips.

“Ahh …. fuck…. don’t stop…Rog…. fuck”, you blabbered; you couldn’t even come up with a coherent sentence even if you wanted to.

 His beard tickling the inside of your thighs only heightened your senses and you couldn’t help but to let out a soft giggle.

This time Roger looked up from between your thighs, his lips glistening with your juices.

“What’s so funny love?”

“Your beard…. it tickles”, you giggled.

“Does this tickle love?”, he growled before latching his lips onto your clit and sucking on it hard.

Your giggly mood went as fast as it had come as his fingers took on a more relentless pace than before and the sucking on your clit intensified.

“God…. Rog…. I’m close…. I’m gonna….” you moaned as you grasped the sheets on the bed until your knuckles were almost completely white.

“Then go on love”, he murmured against your clit, “let yourself go love…. cum for me”.

With a particular twist of his fingers and him biting down on your clit, your world whited out as you fell over the edge.

You rode out your orgasm against his face and then sagged back into the pillows, completely blissed out.

When you opened your eyes again Roger was still lying down between your legs, the lower half of his face wet with all of your juices and you bit your lip as your cheeks heated up.

“So”, he started as he slowly rubbed your aching thighs, “was I any good?”

“The best”, you breathed out as you grasped his face between your hands and pressed your lips on to his. Although you had only just cum, the taste of your wetness on his lips made your lower regions tingle once more.

As you deepened the kiss and fumbled with his belt and the button of his pants. His hands stopped you as you tried to push his pants and underwear down his legs. You looked up at him confused.

“You don’t have to return the favour love, I wanted to do this for you”.

“Can I at least touch you?”, you asked carefully, although slightly relieved he didn’t pressure you into sucking him off. With his help you pushed his remaining articles of clothing from his body. As they joined your other clothes on the floor, you got a good chance to finally see all of Roger.

You gasped a little when you looked down at his cock. It wasn’t fairly long as far as you could see, but it was quite thick, and you weren’t exactly sure how it was gonna fit.

“It’s so big”, you whispered in awe as you reached out to touch it. Roger let out a low groan as you closed your hand around it, or at least tried to close your hand around it. It felt warm and it throbbed to the touch. Even though you weren’t up for sucking his cock yet, you imagined how it would once feel in your mouth.

You slowly started to move your hand up and down, making sure you twisted your hand a little when you came to the top. You slightly rubbed your thumb over the head of his cock and pressed down into the slit, which caused a bit of pre-come to emerge from the tip, which made his cock only slightly slicker to the touch.

You looked up at Roger and he had his eyes closed, head thrown back and soft pants were leaving his mouth.

“Fuck… Y/N you’re so good at this”, he groaned as he opened his eyes and gazed down upon you, his eyes tinted a dark shade of blue.

You felt slightly elevated at that comment, so you decided to speed up your hand on his cock.

“Fuck…. Y/N I’ll come if you keep this up”, he groaned and placed a hand on yours to halt your movements.

“I fucking loved your hand on my cock Y/N”, he spoke as he pressed you against the cushions again,” but right now I really want to make love to you”.

You swallowed as you slightly spread your legs to accommodate him.

“How do you want to do this love”, he spoke softly, “I know I’m clean but…”.

“I’m clean too Rog”, you assured him, “and I’m on the pill so don’t worry.

He smiled as he settled in between your legs; you felt his member press against your bare pussy, and you knew this was the moment, this was it.

He put up his arms next to your head, caging you in as it were, and tenderly pressed a kiss on your lips.

“You ready love?”, he whispered and as you nodded he slowly pressed against your entrance, and let out a groan as he pushed in.

You moaned against his lips as he pressed inside you bit by bit. You never had something so big inside of you before so you really didn’t know what you should think. It was good, but it was also a bit uncomfortable. As if he was able to sense your discomfort, Roger stilled inside of you and looked at you concerned.

“All right love?”

“Yeah, you panted, “just need to adjust a bit that’s all”.

“If it hurts, let me know and I’ll stop ok?”, he whispered as he pressed a loving kiss on your forehead.

He pressed in a little deeper with each small thrust until you felt his balls resting against you’re ass.

Even though you really didn’t do anything you were panting with exertion.

“You want to stop for a bit and adjust a little?”, he asked concerned as he stroke away a lock of hair from your sweaty forehead.

“Yeah…. uhmmm, it’s big”, you chuckled a little.

“I know love I’m sorry, it will feel good I promise you. I’m so happy you’re letting me do this, so proud of you doing this my love so proud”, he kept on murmuring as he pressed kisses all over my face, trying to make feel a little bit more at ease.

You didn’t know whether it was the intimate situation the two of you were in or if it was something else, but all of the sudden you felt really emotional, and you couldn’t help but to let a few tears escape from your eyes.

“Love what’s wrong?”, Roger asked. Looking up at him he looked really worried.

You shook your head, smiling. “Nothing Rog, it’s just, I’ve never been with someone who cares so much, respects me, loves me, and…. I’ve never cared so deeply for someone before and I love you so much and I guess…. It’s a little scary”, you chuckled.

“I promise you love”, Roger started as he kissed those few tears away, “I will never hurt you as much as those other guys did, I will promise you that”.

You reached up and slowly caressed his cheek. “I love you Rog”. “I love you to Y/N…. but is it ok if I move now”?

You pressed your lips against his in a silent agreement, “please Rog, make love to me”.

As he gently pulled out of you, you no longer felt uncomfortable or weird, but it felt strangely good and you could already feel the pressure building in your lower tummy. You groaned as he pressed in again, setting a slow but torturous pace, wanting to draw this feeling out and having him fuck you faster all at the same time.

“Fuck you’re so tight Y/N”, Roger groaned as he sucked another mark on your neck, slightly above the previous one.

You clawed at his back, to try and get some grip on the situation but it was to no avail. The slow drag of his cock inside you felt so good and you felt your second orgasm of the night creeping up on you.

“Roger…. faster… please”, you managed to get out as he slightly picked up the pace. He pressed a hard kiss against your mouth, but he was more panting into your mouth than anything else.

“Close?”, he whispered against your lips.

He growled as you clenched around him trying to edge him close to an orgasm as well. He moved one of his hand between your bodies and started rubbing fast circles on your clit, making you whine out in pleasure.

“Close….”, you moaned in his ear as you moved your hips in rhythm with him; your legs started to tremble with the strain and the onslaught of your orgasm, and you knew you were almost on the edge.

With a particularly hard trust of his cock and his fingers pressing hard against your clit you felt the second orgasm of the night wash over you, longer and more intense than the first one.

“Fuckkk….”, was all you managed as your body trembled uncontrollably with the force of the orgasm.

“Y/N I can’t… fuck”, Roger grunted as you clenched around him and only just a few seconds later he pressed his cock inside of you one more time and spilled his seed inside of you.

The both of you lay together in silence for a few minutes, trying to get your breathing under control.

“Fuck I’m no longer 25 that’s for sure”, he panted as he pushed himself up on his elbows again.

“Can’t compare but I’d say you still have it”, you chuckled as you lovingly pressed a kiss against his lips.

He pulled out slowly and you hiss with the drag of his cock against your now oversensitive insides.  You grimaced slightly as you felt his sticky cum leak out of you.

“Sorry”, he murmured apologetically, as he lay down on his back and pulled you up against him.

“Have I told you I love you?”, he spoke softly, slowly grazing his hand up and down your arm.

“More than once”, you replied as you pressed a kiss against his chest.

You felt your eyelids become heavy and you shifted down until your head was in the crook of his arm.

“Happy Birthday Rog”, you yawned as your eyelids fluttered close.

“Best birthday I’ve ever had.”

[noladyme]

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 3

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. This Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

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@wolf-lover-bookdragon

@wonderlandfandomkingdom​

3

The next day I was woken by the sound of Jax talking quietly on his phone. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. “… and I want Fat Phil on her at all times”, he muttered. “Jax?”, I said. He looked at me. “Let me call you back”. He snapped his phone shut; and leant over to kiss me. “Did you sleep ok?”. “Yeah”, I said. “What was that about”.

Jackson frowned and sighed. “I’m gonna have one of my guys stay close to you for a few days. Just until we know, what this guy is planning on doing”. I shuddered. He stroked my cheek. “Hey. It’s ok. You’ll be safe. The prospect will be by the school all day; and I’ll pick you up afterwards”. “Phil?”, I said. “The big guy, with the glasses?”. Jax nodded. “You want him hanging out in front of a middle school all day… that’s not creepy”. “I didn’t think of that”, Jax chuckled.

I sat up, and took his hand; kissing his knuckles. “I’ll be fine Jax. Last night was just… a scare”, I said. “I know Josh. I’ve dealt with him before”. “Josh?”, Jax grimaced. “Sounds like a dick”. I smiled. “You’d be right”.

I began to get out of bed; but Jax grabbed my wrist; pushed my shoulder to lay down again. “It’s only 6.30. We got time”, he smirked; and laid himself on top of me; pecking my lips cheekily. “Oh, really?”, I smiled; and ran my hands down his strong arms. “Let me get under there…”, Jax whispered; and moved the covers from between us; to put them over us both. His fingers found my folds; already moist from his kisses and his soft voice.

Our lips and tongues moved more frantically; and before long; Jackson was inside me again; moving slowly – trying to gage my limit; as I was still slightly sore from the night before. His eyes searched mine. “Ok?”, he whispered. I nodded and smiled; and Jax kissed me.

—

30-40 very pleasurable minutes later; we were cuddled up on the bed; Jackson resting his head on my chest, and letting his index finger circle the outline of my nipple. “This here… I like this”, he smiled. “What; my boob?”, I chuckled. He raised his head; and pushed my breasts together. “I like both your boobs”, he smirked; and kissed first one, then the other. “I was talking about laying here with you”. I pulled his face to mine; and kissed him; nibbling lightly at his lower lip. “It’s pretty high on my list too”, I smiled. He rubbed his nose to mine, and pecked my lips.

“We should get dressed”, I whispered. Jackson groaned; and wrapped his arms around me – rolling over, so I was now laying on top of him. “That’s the worst idea you’ve had all morning”. I laughed and stroked my fingers across his forehead. “It’s still early. I can have plenty more”.

Jax grabbed my ass-cheek and pulled me impossibly tighter into his grasp. I felt his cock twitch against my stomach again. “Jax…”, I moaned. “As much as I’d like to spend the day letting you screw my brains out; I have a job, and you have a son you haven’t seen in 3 days.

Jackson sighed. “You’re right”, he smiled. “Let’s do it”. He rolled me off him and got out of the bed; before turning to me; flaunting his semi-hardon. “Quick BJ?”, he smirked. I threw a pillow at him. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going…”. I climbed out of bed myself, walking towards the bathroom for a quick shower. “You’re a horndog; Jackson”, I smiled over my shoulder. “It’s all for you, babe”, he called after me.

I got cleaned up; and let Jax step into the shower after me; fighting of his attempts to get me to join him. We got dressed; and drove towards a part of town I hadn’t been in yet.

Stopping in front of a nice, small house; Jax let me get off, before parking next to Gemma’s car in the driveway. He took my hand. “This is me”, he said; and we walked towards the door.

Inside, I was met by the welcome smell of coffee and toaster waffles. “Mom?”, Jax called out. “I’m in here!”, Gemma’s voice answered. “Go grab some coffee, babe”, Jax muttered, and gestured towards the kitchen.

The house was warm – homely. I felt completely at ease in it; as if I’d been here 1000 times before. Had it been my own home; I’d have changed the curtains – but it wasn’t my place. I grabbed a mug from one of the pantries; and poured myself some coffee – placing myself by the window, so I could look outside. The neighborhood was quiet, it seemed. Well-trimmed lawns, and well kept, modest houses.

Looking down; I noticed a baby-bottle waiting to be cleaned in the sink. I picked it up, and rinsed it out; before putting it in the steamer. “You didn’t have to do that”, Gemma said from behind me. I turned to face her. “I was just standing here, anyway”. She smiled at me kindly but warily. “Did you both spend the night at the motel?”, she asked. I smiled nervously. “My son is a grown ass man. He can do what he wants. Just make sure you know what you’re getting yourself in to”. I frowned slightly, avoiding her eyes. “Abel?”, I muttered. “Him too…”, she said.

Gemma grabbed a mug of coffee herself; and sat down by the table. “It seems everyone thinks I should back off Jackson…”, I said quietly. Gemma shook her head. “Not at all, sweetheart”, she said softly. “Just… take care of that heart of yours, ok? My boy has a soft spot for good people – which means you must be one”. I sent her a crooked smile. Gemma continued. “I haven’t seen him this caught up in someone in a long time – if ever”.

“What are you talking about?”, Jax asked, as he stepped into the kitchen carrying Abel. “Girl talk”, his mother answered, and got up from her chair. “Neeta will be here in 30 minutes. See you later, baby”. She kissed Jacksons cheek; and sent me a smile; before leaving through the front door. I saw her drive away.

“You good?”, Jax asked; standing next to me. I smiled at him. “Yeah”, I said. “She’s just protective”. He frowned. “I’ll talk to her”. “Actually, she was trying to protect me”, I chuckled. He laughed. “Well I am a dangerous biker”, he said. He was standing, bouncing a baby on his hip; with a nappy over his shoulder. “Yeah, you’re badass”, I grinned.

He leant in and kissed me softly. “Can I hold him?”, I asked. Jax’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, of course”. He handed me Abel, and I lifted him into the air; before lowering him to my face. “Hey baby. Remember me?”. The baby giggled in recognition. Jax looked at me cautiously. “Will you be ok with him, while I change?”. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before. “We’ll be fine. Just hurry. I might run off with him. He is the cuter Teller”, I smiled. Jax smirked at me; and kissed Abel’s head. “Don’t steal daddy’s girl; ok, buddy?”, he said, and walked towards his bedroom.

I made funny faces at Abel for a little while; before Jax stepped in to the kitchen again – looking every bit the hot biker I’d met a few days before. A crisp white t-shirt was covering his torso; over which he’d put a gun-holster. I grimaced a bit at the sight. “It’s part of the package, Cat”, he said softly. I nodded with a hesitant smile. “Are you going to be ok with that?”. He sounded worried. “I can’t say yes; because I don’t know why it’s necessary”, I said.

He stepped over to me; wrapping his arms around both me and the baby. The sensation was unfamiliar; but strangely comfortable. I was standing in the arms of a gorgeous man; holding his son in my own. “If this is what I think it is…”, Jax said, “… What I hope it is… I’ll let you know everything you want to”. He kissed my forehead. “Ok?”. I nodded.

Neeta let herself in to the house. “Hello?”, she said softly. “Hey, Neeta”, Jax said. “We need to run. He’s already eaten, and I just changed him a little while ago”. The woman smiled warmly, and took Abel from my arms. “You need anything from the store today?”, she asked. “Nah; we’re set. Thanks”, Jackson smiled. He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go”.

He kissed Abel’s head again; and we walked out of the house. Getting on the bike behind Jackson was becoming like second nature; and I quickly got comfortable in my seat. “A little closer”, Jax said over his shoulder; pulling at my arms; so I was wrapping them around his torso, instead of just holding on to his waist. “Are you afraid I’ll fall off?”, I said. I heard him chuckle. “Nah, you ride like a queen. I just like it when you rub up on me”, he smirked. “Horndog”, I chuckled. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, darlin’”, he said, and revved the engine; driving us down the street.

—

I slipped into a nice routine, my second week in Charming. I spent my days at the school making friends with my coworkers, who all seemed very nice. Ray hadn’t told anyone about my record; which I thanked him for when I met him in the hallway. “New job; fresh start”, he’d smiled.

My afternoons shifted between coffee-dates with Lyla – who had a much more flexible schedule than me – and grading book-reports. Jax had business in Oakland all Tuesday; so I didn’t see him until Wednesday night – when he showed up with a pizza and a sixpack of beer. We hadn’t eaten or drank much; but in stead ended up under the sheets; passing out from exhaustion a few hours later. At 5 am; he kissed me goodbye, and gone home to take over Abel from his mom.

We texted throughout the day – but it was frustrating to know I could only have him with me part time. I tried not to let it show in my messages.

I picked up my mail from the reception. I’d received the check from the scrapping of my old car, and a yellow envelope. I went to my room to open it. Inside the envelope was a picture of me, from my dancing days. I was dressed in a black corsage, and red frilly panties – a seductive grin on my face. On the back of the picture someone had written a message.

What do you think will happen, when they all find out who you REALLY are?

I tore up the photo; throwing it in the trash. I was about to call 911; when I realized they couldn’t do anything. I’d been through it before. “Sorry, miss. There’s nothing we can do, unless you have tangible evidence that this man is a danger to you”. “He’s an FBI agent! He knows how to hide evidence!” “Like I said… sorry…”.

I wanted Jax. I didn’t even really know him, but at that moment I wanted him beside me so badly, I could taste it. I counted the minutes until it was 10 pm – the time Jax had promised to call. Just knowing that I would hear his voice, made my breathing relax. This is still nothing. He’s not here. If he was, he’d show up himself.

When my phone rang; I picked up at the first ring. “Jax?”. “Hi, kitty…”. “Leave me alone, Joshua!”, I yelled. “I can’t, honey. You know I can’t. I just want what’s best for you… for us”. “There is no us. Don’t call. Don’t send flowers or pictures. We’re done”. “Is he there?” I didn’t answer. Josh’s voice boomed. “Is he there, I said!”. “Yes…”, I said; hoping my lie would put him off. “No, he’s not. I know when you’re not telling the truth, Catherine”. I heard him sigh. “This is such a breach of trust, honey…”.

I hung up; and ran to the door – putting on the security chain, and turning off the lights.

When my phone rang again, I didn’t recognize the number; so I didn’t pick up. 5 minutes later Lyla’s number flared up on the screen; and I answered the call. “Hello?”, I said quietly. “Baby?”. I exhaled in a sob. “Why didn’t you pick up?”, Jax asked. “I didn’t recognize the number”. “Did he call you again?”, Jackson growled. “Yeah…”, I whimpered. He let out a long breath. “Are you at the motel?”, he asked. “Yeah, I put the chain on. Turned off the lights. “I can’t come over, I’m so sorry”, he said with sadness and anger in his voice. “I’m safe here”, I said. “No, I want you at Opie’s”. “Aren’t you already there?”, I asked. “No, I’m at Cara Cara. Using Lyla’s phone”. The thought of him in a porn studio, while I was hyperventilating; made me sick. “Ok”, I muttered. “It’s business, Cat. I know it sounds bad, but it’s life or death right now. I’m meeting some people”. He sighed. “Look, I’m calling Opie right now. He’ll pick you up…”. “No, Jax. I can’t be around his kids right now”. “Shit!”, he yelled. “Ok, listen to me. Pack whatever shit you need; get in your car – and drive straight to TM. There’s a dorm at the clubhouse”. “What am I gonna say?”. “Chibs is there. Tell him you’re waiting for me. He won’t ask questions”. “Ok” “Bye, babe”. He hung up.

—

I arrived at TM 15 minutes later; having sped, and run two red lights. As Jax had said; Chibs was in the clubhouse; greeting me with a big smile. “Hello, my love. How can I help you this fine evening?”. I was desperately trying to calm my breath. “I’m waiting for Jax. He said to go to the dorm”. Chibs narrowed his eyes at me. “Aye… everything all right?”. I searched for an answer; coming up short.

Chibs walked over to me, and took my overnight bag. “Come on”, he said; and I followed him down the hall; to a room furnished with a bed, a desk and a couch. “It’s in here”. “Thanks”, I muttered, as he put down my back, and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get you a cup of tea. Jackson will be here in a couple of hours”. I nodded, and sat on the edge of the bed. Chibs sighed. “Don’t know what’s wrong, luv’; but you’re safe here – no matter what it is”. He lifted his cut; showing me a gun strapped to his side. “All right?”. I tried to smile.

A little while later, Chibs came back with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. “Out of tea. Hope this is ok”. He set the cup on the nightstand, and kissed my forehead. “There are nudiemags in the desk if you need a good read”, he smirked. This time I did smile. “Thank you Chibs”.

He nodded; and answered his phone, that had been in his pocket. “Yeah?… Yeah, she’s here…”. He turned his back to me, and walked down the hall. “You know I will… right… No, just me… I won’t”. His voice faded away, and I stood up to close the door after him; not feeling the necessity to lock it. I drank my hot chocolate; and got under the covers fully clothed – falling into a restless sleep.

A few hours later I was woken by the bed dipping. “Shh, babe. It’s me”, Jax whispered. He gently undressed me; not making a lewd remark, or touching me in any sexual way. He was just gentle. Once he was done, he undressed himself; and crawled under the sheets – pulling me into him.

“It’s not supposed to be like this, Jax”, I whimpered. “What isn’t?”, he asked. “I don’t want you to have to take care of me like I’m a wounded animal”. “But you are wounded”. “I hate that you have to see me like this… weak”. He kissed my forehead. “You’re not weak, baby. But you’re not safe either”. He sighed. “I’m gonna have Phil with you tomorrow. No discussion. He’ll keep a low profile”. “Ok”, I whispered.

He held me tightly until I fell asleep again.

—

The next day I woke up to Jax kissing me. “Hey”, he whispered. I smiled softly at him. “What time is it?”, I asked. “7.30”, he said. “Shit, I have to be at work in an hour”. “Phil picked up your work bag at the motel”, he said. “He swore that he didn’t go through your underwear”. I chuckled.

“Thank you, baby”, I smiled. “You’re welcome, darlin’”. Jax kissed me softly again. “After work, come back here. If I’m not around, someone else will be. Just tell ‘em…”. “I’m waiting for you”, I said. He smiled. “Good girl”.

He kissed me deeply one last time; before he had to run off for something.

I noticed the prospect they called Fat Phil, driving behind me in the TM tow-truck; on my way to work. He lifted his hand in greeting when I parked my car, and went in to the school. He, himself, parked a little down the street.

I found it difficult to concentrate on my classes; even getting to the point of checking my phone for unanswered calls while the kids were asking me questions. I didn’t know whether I was waiting for Jax to call – or Josh. None of them called.

When I started the old chevy, it stalled a couple of times, before I could get it running. Phil stepped out of the tow-truck to see if I was ok. I shook my head at him; and he got back behind the well. I mouthed a thank you; and the kind looking big guy smiled at me.

—

Arriving at TM; I parked the chevy by the shop. I didn’t see Jax anywhere; but Tig was having a cigarette next to an oil-can. “Living on the edge, Tig?”, I smiled. “You know it, sweetheart”, he grinned. “Car acting up?”. I shrugged. “She stalled a few times after work”. He took the keys from me. “I’ll look her over quick”, he said. “Here comes your prince”. He nodded in the direction of the clubhouse. Jax was walking out the door with Chibs and Happy.

A white Honda rolled in to the lot; parking near the clubhouse. The blonde who had given me the finger my first day in Charming; stepped out. She was wearing a barely-there denim skirt, and a tank top that didn’t cover her bra. Her presence certainly made me feel over-dressed – in my jeans and Ramones t-shirt.

“Who’s she?”, I asked Tig. He clenched his jaw, and looked at me almost apologetically. “Bad news”, he muttered. “Cara Cara”.

I walked towards Jax, who hadn’t seen me yet; but the girl made her way to him before I had a chance. He finally noticed me, looking over her shoulder; as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. I swallowed bile, and walked closer.

“You left this at my place, honey”, she purred. Handing him an SOA t-shirt. “We’re you trying to tell me something?”. Jax clenched his jaw. “No, Ima. I was just in a hurry to leave”, he said. “And that was weeks ago”. She ran a finger down his chest with a pout on her painted lips.

“Jax?”, I called out. The girl turned around. “He’s busy”, she sneered. “I can see”, I answered, with a sarcastic smile. Jackson tore himself loose from her; and walked over to me, taking my hand. “Sorry”, he muttered. Chibs looked at the blonde. “Go home, Ima. No one’s in the mood for the claps tonight”. Ima sent me a venomous look; and went back to her car to drive away. “Let’s go inside”, Jax said quietly. I took my hand from his; and walked in front of him into the clubhouse.

Once inside, I sat down on a couch by the wall; accepting a beer from Phil. “Thanks for hanging out today, Phil”, I smiled at him. “No problem, ma’am”. He walked back behind the bar.

Jax sat down next to me. “You have a smoke?”, I asked. He grabbed one from his packet, and lit it; before handing it to me. He lit one for himself. “I’m sorry, darlin’. You shouldn’t have had to see that”. “What? That you’ve had sex with someone else? I knew you weren’t a virgin”, I scoffed. He bit his lip. “Still…”, he muttered; taking a drag from his smoke. I clenched my jaw. “Her, though?”, I said. He frowned. “Yeah, I know”, he said. “It’s not a good look”.

I stifled a laugh. “She got a crow tattooed somewhere?”, I asked. He shook his head. “If she does, it’s not mine”. “I’m never getting one of those things”, I said. He gave me a half smile. “You’ve got ink”, he retorted. I raised my brows at him. “You’d have to get me drunk, and hold me down”. “That can be arranged…”, he smirked.

Jackson slid his arm around me; and pulled me in for a kiss. I put my fingers to his lips. “Please tell me you got tested afterwards…”. He grimaced. “I did… even the painful ones”. I grinned at him; and kissed his lips.

I took a sip of my beer; and Chibs joined us; having brought a drink for himself and Jackson. “VP”, he muttered; handing him the beer. They clinked their bottles, and drank. Jackson leant back in the couch; and playing with the hair at the back of my neck. “You don’t like porn stars, babe?”, he asked. “What about Lyla?”. I smiled brightly. “Lyla’s a doll. I love her”, I said, and took a sip of my own drink. “And her movies”.

Jax’s eyes widened, and he grinned widely at me. Chibs laughed out loud. “She’s a keeper, Jackie!”, he proclaimed loudly. “Ever thought of going in to the industry yourself, luv’?”. Jax stared at him with mock menace. “I’ve done my stint in underwear”, I smiled. “But I never got naked”. “This I have to hear”, the scot chuckled. “Another time”, I winked at him.

The sheriff from Gemma’s birthday stepped into the clubhouse. “Hey fellas. Got a beer?”. “You off duty yet, Unser?”, Bobby said from his stool at the bar. “When am I ever?”, Unser answered, accepting the cold brew from Phil.

The sheriff walked over to where we were sitting. He stuck out his hand at me. “I didn’t get to introduce myself at the party last week”, he said, as I shook his hand. “Unser. Sheriff of this… shithole”. “I dunno”, I said. “I like this town”. “Well, Samcro’s got you under their wing, so you’re set up”. “I’m Cat”, I said. “The school teacher”, the sheriff smiled. “Welcome”.

“Unser!”, Clay called from a doorway to what looked like a meeting room. “I need you”. “Duty calls”, the sheriff muttered; and joined Clay. I leaned back against Jacksons arm. “You’re working with the sheriff?”, I said quietly. “When we need to…”, he said. “Don’t worry about it”. He kissed my cheek.

My ordeal with the photograph and phonecall, disappeared into the very back of my mind; as I spent the next hour in Jax’s warm embrace – listening to stories from the road, and laughing at dirty jokes; even telling some myself. At one point, even Clay joined us. “How you doing, teach’?”, he asked. “I’m good”, I smiled. Jax squeezed my thigh; before noticing Tig calling him over. “I can see that”, Clay smiled.

Jax left me with Chibs and Clay; Juice taking his seat – though keeping his hands to himself. “I don’t know what you’re doing to that boy”, Clay said. “But he’s awful happy these days”. I smiled and blushed. “It’s the dirty jokes, Clay”, Chibs said. “Girls got a mouth on her”. Clay laughed. “Tell us one”, Juice said. “I think I’m fresh out”, I chuckled. All three men booed me; and demanded I think one up. “Ok, ok…”, I said. “Why does Santa have such a large sack?”. Chibs halted me. “Bobby; this one’s about you!”, he cried out. Bobby sauntered over. Chibs smirked at him. “Bob, why does Santa have such a large sack?”, he said. Bobby shook his head. “I dunno, tell me”.

“He only comes once a year”, I said; to a roar of laughter.

Jax came over to us. He looked worried. “Cat, I need to talk to you”. I took his hand and followed him outside to my car; which Tig had parked in one of the spots by the clubhouse. He handed me the keys; patted Jax’s shoulder, and walked towards the door. “I’ll tell ‘em myself”, Jax called after him. “Sure thing, brother”, Tig answered.

I looked at Jacksons concerned face. “What’s wrong?”, I asked timidly. Jax showed me a small grey box. “Tig found this in your car. It’s a GPS-tracker”. I shook my head. “Where did it come from?”, I said. He raised his brows at me, and shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me”.

I stepped back from him. “What are you saying?”, I sneered. He grabbed my hand, and pulled me back. “I’m not saying anything, babe. I don’t…”. He sighed. “We’ve been getting some heat lately; with our business”. I clenched my jaw. “What business?”, I said. “Cat…”, Jax began. “No, Jackson! What business?”, I demanded. “If you’re going to put your heat on me… suggest that I’m somehow…”. “I’m not suggesting anything”, he said softly. I tilted my head; and looked deep into his blue eyes. “Tell me”.

Jax sighed. “It’s guns”, he said. I parted my lips, stifling a gasp. “We mule guns and… other things. It’s why I leave town for days at a time… The ATF is on to us… we think”. “Shit…”, I whispered. He chewed his lips, before putting his hand to my cheek. “If you want to walk away; there’s your car. GPS-free. I won’t hassle you; or do anything about it”.

My heart was racing. This is bad, Cat. Run!

I took a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere”, I said. He put his forehead to mine. “Thank you”, he whispered. “Don’t ever accuse me off…”. He pulled back and shook his head profusely. “I would never…”, he insisted.

I slid my arms around him; and he held me close; kissing the top of my head. I breathed deeply again. “I need to tell you something”, I said. He looked at me. “That guy… Josh…”. I swallowed. “He’s FBI”. Jackson looked dumbfounded. “Shit”, he breathed. “That’s why you couldn’t get a restraining order”. I nodded. “He had too much pull”.

Jax shook his head. “Last weekend, a deal went south; when we were interrupted by the feds”. I sighed. That’s why he’d been bruised. “I did that…”. He pulled me tighter against me. “No, baby. No”, he said. “We don’t know this has anything to do with that… But – if you and I are going to do this – I need to take this to the club”. I swallowed. “I’ll go with you”. He shook his head. “No, Cat”, he muttered. “You don’t need to be a part of this”. “I might already be…”, I said.

He sighed, and nodded.

—

Ten minutes later Jax had most of his brothers sitting around the large wooden table, in their meeting room. I figured this was where they held church. It was clear women weren’t allowed at the table, so I’d taken a seat in a chair behind Jackson.

Clay folded his hands. “Why’d you ask for this meeting, VP?”. He looked towards me. “This young lady here is beautiful, but we don’t usually allow old ladies at the table”. Jax shook his head. “This isn’t church, Clay”, he said. “This is information. And it’s not to leave this room”. “Nothing ever does, Jackie”, Chibs said. Jax nodded. “Our situation with the Irish last weekend… I think I might know why the feds showed up. I’m not sure; but it looks like Cat might be involved”. Happy turned to look at me – fire in his eyes. “Cool it Hap’. Hear Jax out”, Clay said. “She’s innocent in this; and she didn’t know what she brought with her when she came here”, Jax said; and turned to look at me. “Tell ‘em”. His expression was encouraging.

I sighed, and looked at the floor. “I came here from Chicago… actually; I ran here from Chicago”, I began. “I’d been seeing a guy who… he wasn’t a good guy”. I noticed Chibs smiling at me. “Go on, luv’”.

I continued. “His name is Joshua Kohn. We went on some dates; and he… wanted more than I was willing to give. I tried to break it off; but he began stalking me… One time, he tracked me down at work; and when I tried to make him leave; he got violent”. Jax’s face turned to rage. “You didn’t tell me that”, he said. I looked at him timidly. “I didn’t think it would matter. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with him again”.

“So he hurt you”, Clay said matter-of-factly. “Yeah”, I nodded. “He planted a story about drugs on me; to threaten me to come back to him. But it didn’t work… obviously”. Tig shook his head. “I’m sorry that happened to you sweetheart, I really am”, he said. “But that doesn’t explain the GPS in the chevy”.

“He’s FBI”, Jax said. It was like all air went out of the room. “I’m worried he’s trying to get to me… through you”, I said. “I’m sorry…”.

“It’s not your fault, teach’”, Clay muttered. “We’ve been getting heat even before this… But the feds. We need to figure this out”.

Jax put both his hands on the table; and sat up straight. “Cat is my old lady”, he declared. A rush of heat went through my body; and I didn’t know whether to smile; or go hide under a rock. “I take responsibility for her”. “We all do, son”, Clay said. The rest of the table muttered in agreement. “This club is nothing without family. We are a family”. “Thanks, brother”, Jax said. “But what’s the next step?”.

Clay sighed, and clenched his impressive jaw. “Like you said; we don’t know if what happened with the Irish has anything to do with Jax’s old lady. So for now; we play it safe. Treat it as we see it”. He looked at me. “We’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. This guy isn’t going to get to you. If he shows up; and it turns out he’s also to blame for our situation with the feds – well, it’s two birds with one stone when we get rid of him”. “We’re not just going to get rid of the FBI, Clay”, Tig said. “That’s for church. Tomorrow”, Clay answered; and stood up. “3 pm. Juice brings donuts; he’s behind on his dues”. Juice shrugged an apology. “Take your girl home, Jax”, Clay said. “She looks like she needs some tlc”.

They all stood up, and began leaving the room. Chibs walked around the table; and gave me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry, my love. We’ve got you”. “Thanks”, I muttered.

Once everyone had left the room; Jax put his arms around me. “How are you holding up?”. “I just told six armed criminals that I might have brought the FBI to their doorstep”, I said. “I’ve been better”. He kissed me softly, making me melt into his arms. “You have nothing to worry about”. “Because I’m an old lady?”, I chuckled. “You’re my old lady”, he smiled; and kissed me again.

“This has got to be the weirdest two weeks for anyone, in the history of time”, I said. “Welcome to Charming”, Jax smirked. “Let’s go”.

—

I left my car at TM; and Jax drove me to his house on his bike. He unlocked the door; and followed me inside; hanging his cut on the coat-hanger by the door. I put my jacket next to it. “I’m gonna take a shower”, he said; and kissed my cheek. “Wanna join me?”. I smiled softly. “Yeah”.

He took my hand, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I hadn’t been in this end of the house. To my right I saw the door to a nursery; and to my left; what I thought was Jax’s bedroom.

Once in front of the bathroom door, Jax halted; and put his hands on my waist. “If you just want to sleep; I’ll understand”. I shook my head. “I need something to take my mind of things”, I smiled. He smiled, leant in; and kissed me. My lips parted; and his tongue found mine – softly letting them both brush against each other.

As I pulled back and met his eyes, I suddenly noticed specs of green in them. It made them even more deep and soulful.

He pulled off his t-shirt, and stepped into the bathroom. I followed his lead; and pulled of my own. He gently turned me around, and undid my bra for me; pushing the straps down my arms, kissing my shoulder gently. As I shrugged off my jeans and panties; he followed suit – and we were both naked.

Jax turned on the shower, and stepped inside, giving me a hand to follow him. The water was a perfect temperature. Warm enough to heat up my body; but not so hot it scolded me. Jax pulled me close, and kissed my neck; before pulling back to look at me. He smiled warmly. “Yeah…”, he said, and nodded. I smiled back at him.

He pulled out a bottle of soap; and squirted out a little of the liquid in his hand. “Turn around”, he said. He began washing my back gently; lathering up the soap. It was a masculine scent. Jax’s scent. And I loved it. He slowly ran his hands up and down my back, before running them over my bottom; and to my front, stroking over my stomach – concentrating on cleaning me off. This was all for pleasure; but also, to relax me.

His hands moved up; sliding over my breasts; covering them in the lather from his hands. His fingertips traced my nipples, finding my nipples erect; and gently tugging at them. I stifled a moan; and leaned back towards him – feeling his erection fold upwards against my back. Jax lowered his lips to my neck; and kissed the spot he had found those nights before; drawing the same moan from me he had gotten then. “I’m gonna use this against you, you know”, he chuckled against my skin, “Do whatever you want, just please don’t stop”, I breathed.

He ran his tongue in a trail down my neck; and turned me around by my waist – grabbing my lips in a kiss. I slid my arms around his neck, and pulled him closer – heat radiating from my core, through my body. I pulled my head back. “Let me wash you”, I said. He nodded, and handed me the soap.

I squirted some of it into my hand; and lathered it up: Running my hands over his chest; he smiled at me, and rested his hands on my hips. I worked the lather down his toned stomach, relishing in his firmness; and the stifled moans from his mouth. My hands slid around his waist, as I stroked his back; from his shoulder blades down to his ass – working them around the cheeks.

His cock twitched against my stomach. “Sorry”, he muttered with a grin. “No you’re not”, I smirked. “Yeah, you’re right”, he chuckled.

I slid my hands to his front; grabbing a hold of his hardness. He hissed in pleasure. “Stand still, Jackson”, I chided. “I’m trying to wash you”. “Yes ma’am”, he breathed; and moved his hands down to my ass. “Just gotta hold on to something”, he said. I giggled; and began stroking his length, slowly grabbing a firmer hold of it. “Shit, baby”, he rasped. “You think you can go twice?”, I breathed into his ear. “I’m up for a trial… oh!”, he gasped; as I let my other hand grasp his scrotum; massaging his testicles softly.

Jax had to put his hands to the wall to not topple over. I rubbed my breasts against his chest; and moved my hand faster. He looked down at his member in my hand; and furrowed his brow in pleasure. “Baby…”, he moaned. “Please…”. “Please, what?”, I said. He let out a long breath; and inhaled again; clenching his jaw and closing his eyes. “Don’t stop…”, he moaned. I moved my hand faster. “Look at me, Jax”. He opened his baby blues again. His pupils were blown; and his breath erratic. I felt his balls clench up; letting me know he was close. I bore my eyes into his; before with a final thrust with my hand; he came – spraying his seed up both our torsos. “Shit!”, he groaned. “Baby. How the hell… you’re… wow!”, he gasped and smiled at me.

I washed us both off with the water from the shower; and kissed him. “My turn”, he growled. “Get you ass in bed”.

He turned off the shower, and I stepped out of it; grabbing a towel to dry myself off. Suddenly I was lifted into the air; and with a firm hold around my waist; Jax transported me into the bedroom – laughing along with my shrieks of glee.

He threw me on the bed. “Jax; I’m dripping wet!”, I yelped. “Are you?”, he said; and crawled over me. “Let’s find out”. Two of his fingers sunk into me. “Oh, God!”, I yelped. “I thought we established it was just me”, he chuckled; and began rubbing his palm against my clit, as he massaged my front wall. “You’re right. You are wet”. I grinned at him; and he kissed me passionately; quickly drawing me towards my own extasy.

As I came on his fingers; he positioned himself between my legs. “I can go twice, as it turns out”, he breathed; and pulled out his fingers – replacing them with his penis. He sank into my still clenching warmth with a groan.

—

A good while and two orgasms later; I was resting against Jax’s chest. “Where the hell did you learn that?”, he chuckled. “I’m a mystery”, I smirked. He grinned, and kissed the top of my head. His fingers were drawing circles on my back.

“Actually, there’s something else I haven’t told you”, I said quietly. He raised a brow at me. “What? You a CIA plant now?”, he asked. “Nah, nothing like that”, I smiled. “It’s just, before I became a teacher… I used to dance”. Jax narrowed his eyes at me. “Dance?”. “Yeah”, I said. “I did burlesque”. Jax sat himself up a little; making me have to get off his chest. I sat up myself; pulling the covers over my chest.

“What, like stripping?”, Jax asked. He didn’t seem angry – more like amused. “No… it’s more a performance and an act, than just pulling off your clothes to get someone off”, I said. “So like that chick – what’s her name – Dita something?”. “Yeah”, I muttered. I bit my lip, not meeting his eyes.

Jax exhaled and took my hands. “Babe… I don’t know how to tell you this…”, he said. “But that’s probably the hottest thing I’ve heard you say. Ever”. I raised a brow at him. “What?”. “Please tell me you have pictures… Or video!”. I smiled crookedly. “I thought you’d be pissed when you found out”, I said. “Shit, no!”, he said. “Darlin’, the thought of you writhing around on a stage in nothing but a corset and panties, makes me hard as a rock! Seriously, feel it!”. He took my hand, and put it over his groin. He was right. I pulled back my hand, and laughed.

“I thought that would make you jealous; make you think I was a slut”, I said. “Oh, I would be jealous as hell”, he said. “But I would also know, that I’m the only one that has access to this gorgeous body”. He kissed my hand. “I’m the last person to slut-shame anyone. I’m lucky my dick hasn’t fallen off from the shit I’ve put it through”. I groaned. “Thanks, now I’m reconsidering our lack of condoms when we have sex”.

He pulled me to him again. I loved the feeling of his naked torso against mine. “Did you like it? Dancing?”, he asked. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Honestly?”. He nodded. “I loved it. Would have done it still, if it wasn’t for my teaching gig. Schoolboards tend to dislike it when you moonlight at a job that requires you to dance in your underwear”. He chuckled. “You can perform for me, any time”, he smiled. “Seriously… do you have video? And can I show the guys?”. I smirked. “Yes… and maybe”.

He smiled victoriously. “Show me!”. I did a naked run to the bathroom, and grabbed my phone from my pocket. I found a video from a few years back; where I was dancing with a folding chair as a prop. I pressed play, and handed Jax my phone.

Within seconds his jaw dropped. “How’s that… ok… now you’re upside down!…”. His eyes were ablaze with wonder. “So that’s where you got it from!”. Once the video was over; he put my phone on the nightstand.

“Ok”, he said. He grabbed my waist; and almost threw me down on the mattress; climbing on top of me. “Round three”.

My squeal of delight was stifled by his mouth on mine.

—