#comes in after fourty years of making no content only to make something for a very specific gif set

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Burning desire

warnings: professor and student, fem!reader, shameless smut, creampie bc why not, choking (it's James what did you expect), readers a love(lust)struck loser who likes her teacher.

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: first time writing something on that more the 2k. This isn't proofread, but I hope it's to your liking. This is kinda old so it might be bad. Hope you enjoy!

You arrived fairly early on the first day. It wasn't really intentional—you live only a few blocks away and paranoid that you have somehow overslept, rushed to get ready. Thankfully you aren't too early for the door to be locked, just enough for the classroom to be mostly empty of students. There were two other people in the room, pulling paper and pencils out their bags and not paying you any mind. You make yourself comfortable in your seat—not too close but not painfully far from where the instructor will be—and follow in their example.

With nothing left to do, you pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll until class starts. In the midst of liking some random post, your phone buzzes—the low battery notification pops on the screen. You would forget to charge your phone last night. Sighing, you reach into your bag to grab your charger, sifting through the content of your bag only to find it not in there; you must've left it at home. Just great. After your phone dies, you have no other choice but to either look blankly at your desk or watch the few people here.

You find your eyes flitting across the room to them; it's not like you don't watch people when you're bored anyway.

When you've had your fill of observing, the door opens—it looks like your teacher has finally arrived. You watch the man get himself ready for the upcoming lecture; he’s busy arranging some paperwork so you take the time to ogle him shamelessly. He looks young, maybe around his early thirties. His hair is slicked down to perfection and he has a little pencil mustache—He is, admittedly, rather handsome.

You hadn't expected that. You weren't quite sure what your expectation was—probably thought he'd be some fourty-year old depressed asshole whose wife doesn’t love him. Yeah…that'd be the type of person who looks like they’d teach a course like this one.

Suddenly, he glances up, probably to check how many people had come in. Still, it scares the living daylights out of you—you rip your gaze away from him. Opting to snatch up your phone and pretend you have more interesting things to look at besides your teacher, you feel your face warm up when you still feel his eyes on you. The sound of his chair scraping the floor pulls everyone's attention to the front; he saunters over to the board and jots down his name with Expo marker.

“My name is Mr. March,” he declares with a smile. Oh fuck, he has a nice voice.

You don't pay much attention to the rest of his introduction, but you still enjoy the timbre of his voice. Instead, you go back to admiring his looks in a totally-not-creepy way. He looks like money-personified; the black vest, the white button-up underneath, and the pair of black pants are all crisp and obviously made with premium material. He even walks with a grace that most lack,talking in a manner like he is more of a socialite than a mere college professor.

More students start to flow in and by the time Mr. March is through with going over his expectations for the semester, everyone is seated and ready for class to start.

In the row ahead of you, a group of girls were quietly debating amongst themselves if he was single or not. You would've laughed if you weren't curious yourself. You spent the remainder of class staring at him without listening to a word that left his pretty mouth (later on you beat yourself up for not taking notes). His voice was hypnotic, each word sinking you deeper into whatever trance you were in. He was refined… elegant. Every movement looked calculated.

Honestly, he could be one of those old Hollywood stars. Face perfectly sculpted to be plastered on billboards; a smile born for posters. Briefly, you wondered if you were to go searching that you'd find him in a classical film.

Then, he's looking at you and the world stops—it shouldn't be anything mind-blowing because there's really nothing special about it, but still, you find yourself immobilized. His voice is syrupy, smooth, and mind-numbing. He clears his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something. He definitely asked you a question. Scrambling through your racing thoughts, you just stare dumbly at him, waiting for him to repeat whatever he had asked. He doesn't.

“I, er, don't know,” you mumble sheepishly. He quirks an eyebrow at that, painfully unimpressed. He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and his silence suffocates you. The only sounds in the class were a few chuckles from other students. You shift in your seat.

“You would've known if you had listened to me,” he lightly scolds. You nod, hoping that'll be enough to show that you get his point. He furrows his brows, and he looks like he's about to push it further. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and simply repeats the initial question.

A few more giggles, and the class is back to normal. You'd think being publicly berated would be enough for you to learn your lesson, but it isn't. Because soon enough, his words are going in one ear and out the other—the words meld together into a pleasant hum in the background.

Before you know it, class is over. You bite your lip as you hurry to pack your bags, the shame from earlier returning like a punch to the gut. You don't dare look in his direction, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You scurry out the door, and thank the lord he's your only class of the day.

You let out a long-awaited sigh as you burst through your front door, haphazardly throwing your bag in the corner—you can finally decompress. You study until you feel like your head is about to burst to keep your thoughts off of him and the rather embarrassing way your first day ended.

It's been a few weeks since you got chastised for being an absent-minded idiot, and despite the embarrassment you can't bring yourself to be mad at him. Instead of anger, or even mild annoyance, all you feel is attraction. You try to deny it, bottle it up and push it to the back of your mind. Innocent fascination is what you label it. His passè charm and unconventional way of speaking is why you can't get him out of your head. That's the real reason all your thoughts lead back to him. Why at night you get struck with downright obscene visuals of him. You don't touch yourself— At least not in reality.

The you— you’ve conjured up in your head does, she touches him too. She fondles him in places you'll never see—let alone touch in real life. He says things to her that you'll never hear. He gradually seeps into your dreams, when that happens you wake up with damp underwear, and humiliation that settles deep in the crevices of your gut. It makes seeing him so much worse, but something about him captivates you.

You find yourself sneaking glances when you're convinced he isn't looking– It's the only thing you can't seem to stop– so you indulge. The only rule: don't get caught. And that sounds pretty easy to adhere to. Just don't look too long.

Simple, right?

Naively, you were confident you could do it. It worked for a little while. But at some point, you got complacent. Assured yourself you wouldn't get caught because you were doing so well. Your eyes meet in slow motion, or that's how it felt to you. In the middle of personal study time, so you had no real excuse. Neither of you break eye contact for a few more seconds, and he has a plain, almost bored expression on his face.

Ducking your head down, you stare at your blank paper. You don't pretend to write anything. It's pointless now. You’d been caught red-handed. You simply sit there, wallowing in your shame. That's become your favorite pastime lately. Deciding enough time has passed, you peek up. He's gone back to whatever he was writing and you decide that now is the time to actually write on your paper.

Class ends and you're packing up. You don't rush today, taking your time collecting your things.

“a word, please.”

You swallow dryly, cemented in place. Hesitantly, you peer up at him. His eyes bore deep into your soul like two black voids sucking you in. Growing impatient, he adds: “Yes, you. I'd like to speak to you.”

You dwandle your way to him. He doesn't rush you, at least not verbally, but by the look on his face your torpor was getting under his skin. You pick up the pace. Finally, you reach his desk. “You, um, wanted to speak to me?”

“Mm,” He clasps his hands, sitting them on his desk. “I called you here to discuss your grades,” he says, “you're a clever girl, we're both aware of that. You could be doing so much better, but there's something distracting you, correct?”

For a brief moment thick, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You rummage through your brain for explanations. How could you tell him that he's the distraction? That all your troubles were somehow connected to him.

“I, uh, haven't been keeping up with my studies lately,” you stammer, “My sleep schedule has been kinda messed up,” Because of you. “So, when I get that in order I should be good.”

He frowns, narrowing his eyes slightly; he doesn't look convinced. Standing up, he makes his way to you. He stops in front of you, looming over you like a shadow. He's of average height, but you still have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You’re struck by the fragrance of his cologne— god, he smells amazing. He places a hand on your shoulder, you tense up almost immediately. His hand is so big. Shaking those thoughts away, you nervously await his next word.

“If you don't compose yourself, I fear I may have to take on a more… hands-on approach.” he tuts, giving your shoulder a nearly painful squeeze. You blink, dazed. You swallow once more, desperately trying to wet your throat. “I understand,” you utter, voice airy like you'd been running a marathon. You feel dizzy. His words buzzing in your head like tv static.

You honestly just want to get out of here, and wait out the heat that’s building between your thighs. Pleased with your response, he smiles at you. A lazy, feline grin, and you can see the slight indents of his dimples.

“Wonderful!” He replies, gleefully. His hand lets go of your shoulder. Your skin is still throbbing from the contact. “Well, then, you're dismissed.”

When you make it inside, you're panting, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from speed walking all the way home. You let your bag drop onto the floor, unconcerned with where it lands. You sigh, exasperated. There's a pressure in your chest, or it could be described as a warmth. Or an ache. Or all those things at once. You weren't sure— nor do you really care. All you know is his words keep replaying in your head, muddling all your thoughts.

You practically run to your bed, exhausted from your own thoughts. Before you can attempt to stop it, he's invading your head for the umpteenth time. You groan. That warmth in your chest begins trickling down, pooling in the space between your legs. You can still feel his hand on your shoulder, the dull ache of the squeeze. Flipping onto your back, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. You could only deny yourself for so long. Placing your feet flat on the mattress, your hand slips past the band of your panties. A little relaxation couldn't hurt. Especially with how pent up you've been, It was well deserved.

You let out a breathless little whine when your fingers brush your swollen clit. God, you needed this. You run a finger through your folds, the slick sticks your skin. Using your wetness to ease the friction, you rub slow circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You could see him on the back of your eyelids. Your hips buck up pathetically into your own hand. You're leaking, cunt quivering around nothing.

You could still smell him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, even now it lingered in your nose. Rich and velvety. Something that wealthy decadents would wear just to let you know you'd never be able to afford it. You push a finger in, various curses fall from your lips. His hands– my god, his hands. They're so big. So strong. You slip another finger in. The heel of your hand grinds against your clit, and the feeling sends chills down your spine.

You're a writhing, squirming mess on your bed. The squelching from your fingers thrusting into your dripping cunt has the tips of your ears burning, but you don't stop. You picture him, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, methodically fucking them in and out of you. You imagine him curling them inside of you, and you mimic the motion in real life, sending another rush of slick gushing out. You think about the sweet purr of his voice, urging you on— instructing you to cum, so you do. You come hard, mumbling his name like he's your new god.

The shower after is long and quiet, you spend a good portion letting the water run down your body to soothe your tense muscles. You don't play any music or hum anything. You’re barely thinking. Your only goal is to get in bed and pass out. And when you finish, that's exactly what you do. You snuggle into your covers and as soon as your head hits the pillow you're out.

Your eyelids slowly peel apart; heavy. Your entire body feels like a bag of rocks. You lie there, taking long, drawn-out blinks. There's a strange peacefulness in the air. None of the usual worry that fills your head, no noise besides your soft breaths, and the sweet song of the birds outside. You prop yourself up, reaching out to your bedside table to grab your phone. With a click your phone turns on, the sudden light blinds you. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes begin to focus on the big white numbers: 11:25

You stumble out of the comfort of your bed. You have five minutes to get ready and head out the door. Running to your dresser, you pull out some clothes to wear. How you manage the sleep through your numerous alarms was beyond you, but nevertheless that didn't turn back time. You shuffle into your bra, throw the shirt over your head, and jump into a pair of pants. You're able to get the important parts of your morning routine done. Besides a few things like washing your face and properly brushing your hair. Giving yourself a once-over, you decide you don't look too bad. Just a little lazier than normal but casual enough. Sighing, you depart to class.

Standing in front of the door, you take a deep breath, straighten your back. You can already see his face, his mouth pressed into a hard line. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You knock on the door, and wait for it to open. When you hear a soft click, you push the door open, hurrying to your seat. When you sit down, you glance at him and he's already looking at you. Face devoid of any signs of what he's feeling. You pluck the needed supplies out of your bag, and he continues the lesson.

The class goes excruciatingly slow. Focusing seems near impossible, so you resort to scribbling down anything you deem important without actually listening to what he's saying. Which you can only hope doesn't bite you in the ass too much in the future. The class comes to a close, and before you can even think about leaving he's calling your name. You wince, forcing yourself to walk to his desk. He's definitely gonna tear a chunk out of you.

“Sir?” You mutter, ashamed.

“You were late,” he states, plain and simple. His words linger heavily in the air.

“I, um, slept in. I apologize, it was a mistake on my part.” You sputter, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He lifted his head, eyes piercing into you. Your mouth squeezes shut.

“you slept in,” he echoes, empty. With a stern tone, he adds, “Excuses will not be tolerated, especially after I gave an explicit warning to get yourself together.”

You feel queasy, like your stomach rolling in on itself. You don't know what to say. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, rattles your ribcage, reverberating through your entire body. You don't know what to do that doesn't make you seem more of a fool than you already are. So you say the only thing that's worked for you so far.

“I know, sir. I am truly sorry.”

“Indeed you are,” he purrs as inches closer to you, fingertips dragging against his desk. His intense eye contact frightens you, makes you feel like he'd put a giant red target on you: open prey. A strange, uncomfortable heat flushing your body, feels akin to little fires starting from the tips of your fingers. He stops in front of you, closer than you would deem comfortable, but you couldn't move— something willing you to stay right where you are. A need.

You feel trapped, or rather, you're paralyzed. Even though there's nothing constraining you, and all you have to do is walk out the room. You can't move; his eyes immobilize you, demanding that you stay. Reluctantly, you obey. He settles a hand on your shoulder, “yet, you're not sorry enough to listen.” Before you can defend yourself, his hand slowly starts traveling up, gently wrapping around your neck. You notice, but oddly enough, you choose not to question it. “So, I must ask, what's distracting you? And there's no need for any falsities, my dear.”

You freeze, eyes wide. Dumb and glassy, fawn-like. “it’s- it's really not important, and I promise that I'll straighten out my behavior. It's been a rough week.” you murmur, the tips of your ears burning.

He frowns, hand flexing around your neck. You don't know if it was intentional, but it gets his point across all the same. “Like I said, there's no reason for further deception.”

Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you mentally agree he's right and getting it off your chest could probably do you some good. “It's you. You're my problem– or my distraction, in your words.”

He doesn't look fazed. In fact, he looks like he knew before you even opened your mouth. He looked like he could tell you every thought you had verbatim. After a moment of silence, he inquires, “how long?”

Innocuous, but still you shy away from him. Your mouth squeezes shut, and your head is about to turn to the side, but he's capturing your face in his hand— forcing you to look at him. His grip is firm, nails lightly digging into the fat of your cheeks.

“since the, um, first day” you murmur, skittish.

He gives a slight nod. He knew you were attracted to him, but he had ignored it. Flicking off your open desire as a fleeting crush. That, like the other girls, you'd move on. Unfortunately for the two of you, you never did. But day after day of seeing the desperation mixed with adoration swirling around in your big, bright doe eyes, even though he would never speak it aloud, stirred something in him. And now, you’re in front of him with your heart in your hands. that pathetic, helpless look on your pretty face. it set something off within him, a spark of heat he couldn't ignore.

“Is that so…” he responds, casually. Offhandedly, even. He’s pensive, looking at you with a blank face. He’s always withdrawn, always hard to read. You never can guess what's going on in that head of his, and that was something you admired. But right now, you wished you could crack open his skull and hear his thoughts for yourself.

The tension is tangible, turning the air thick. You wish he would do anything to rid you of this horrible ache in your chest. Shoo away the sinking pit in your stomach that grows the more his silence drags on.

“Do something,” you whisper. You don't know what to expect. You can't begin to predict what he'll do with your confession, but you figure he'll send you off with a broken heart and your tail tucked between your legs.

His face scrunched up, and then it straightened out. turning eerily calm with a strange sense of resolve. unceremoniously, his mouth crashes into yours. hungry and ravenous. For a second, you didn't reciprocate. you were stupefied by his forwardness. you had expected many things but not a kiss. After gaining your bearings, you carefully carefully began to kiss back, following the pace he had set. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. you whimper, and he lets out a low groan, lapping away the metallic liquid.

your heart hammered in the confines of your chest. you were high off the taste of him. a mixture of mint and nicotine. you wanted more, you wanted everything he was willing to dish out. your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. it was so surreal— his warmth, his scent, his lips on yours. it was something you couldn't let fall through your fingers. Then without pulling away, he’s spinning you around, backing you up until you're perched on the edge of his desk.

Your mind is misty. your vision blurs at the edges like a gossamer film is covering it. If it's from the lack of oxygen, or how incredibly unreal the situation is still impossible to ascertain. He pulls away to attach himself to your neck, leaving feverish open mouth kisses on your neck. You can feel him inhaling against your skin, breathing you in. Without warning, he digs his teeth into the thin skin between the junction of your neck and shoulder.

He laves his tongue over the indents left behind, and you take it as a silent apology. James squeezes your thigh, massaging it. You’re soft to the touch, pliant. Almost pillowy. His hand snakes down, down, down. Slipping into your pants, past the band of your panties. His fingers brush against your sensitive clit, and you spread your legs further to give him more room. You're leaking over the pads of his fingers, and he dips lower, collecting it. He smears your wetness on your aching bud in tight, deliberate circles. You let out soft pants, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more contact.

“More,” you whine. A small pout tugging at your plump lips.

“you want more, hm? Such a greedy little thing you are,” he croons, giving your clit a mean pinch. It yanks a squeal out of you. The melange of pain and pleasure confuses you, entices you. You give him a meek nod tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. He plunges two fingers in your needy cunt, and your back curves. He hums, pumping his fingers into you with a steady pace. He rolls your aching nub beneath his thumb. It's methodical, automatic. Downright robotic the way he splits you apart on his nimble fingers. He touches you like he's known you for an entire lifetime, strumming your chords like he knows exactly what to do to make you cry out.

His fingers are long, slender, and so, so pretty. And god does he know how to use them. With pinpoint precision, he's curling his fingers inside of you, pressing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into your skull. You're gushing around him, and the squelch of it is obscene. It's embarrassing how you fall apart merely from his deft fingers. Nonsensical babbles fall from your mouth, too high off pleasure to make sense, but he doesn't seem to mind. Soon, a coil begins to tighten in your groin. A buzzing heat in your lower region. It's undeniable, inescapable.

“M gonna cum, don't stop– please, please, please.” You babble, your fingers gripping for purchase on his desk.

Frissions of pleasure shoot through your body like lightning. Your mouth falls agape, and you tilt your head back. The coil snaps, and you quickly begin to unravel around his fingers. He eases you through it, doesn't stop until you've stopped trembling, and then he's sliding you off the desk. He turns you around, and places a sizable hand on your back, bending you over the table. He hastily tugs your pants down, leaving them bunched up at your mid-thigh.

You feel the tip of his cock probe your entrance. Nervous, you press your warm face against the varnished wood, letting a wave of relief wash over you from its coldness. He doesn't give you time to prepare before he's bottoming out. The stretch burns, a dull incessant ache. You don't realize you're gritting your teeth until the feeling ebbs and shifts into velvety pleasure. To your surprise, his thrusts are a measured pace, rhythmic. Maybe he was taking mercy on you, but he quickly loses the pace for something rougher. Fast and hard, thrusts that jolt you forward, edge of the desk biting into your hips.

“is this what you wanted? to be bent over my desk like the needy little harlot you are.” you let out a high pitched whine at that, cunt fluttering around his cock. he was so crude, so incredibly mean, but he was right. he's so right that it's embarrassing.

you feel a vascular hand wrap around your neck, tugging you into an arch. “say it, tell me this is what you wanted,” he grunts, hips snapping hard against yours, it was downright painful.

“this is what I wanted,” you cry out, nodding your head. “good girl,” he utters, his tone ominously dark. it sent chills racing down your spine. his other hand wraps around your neck, and he begins to squeeze. at first, it's harmless, it's not tight enough to do damage, just applying pressure. it wasn't until he didn't stop squeezing that you started to panic. eyes going wide and glassy, your hands tried to peel his hands away to no avail. so you tried to scratch at them, in hopes that he'd finally pull away. but he didn't budge. your lungs were starting to burn, your thoughts getting increasingly fuzzy.

despite all of this, he didn't stop his ruthless thrusting. your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him for all that he's worth. your vision starts to blur, everything begins melting together. your hands drop back down to the desk, and you can feel yourself going limp in his hold. you couldn't tell if you were simply going to pass out, or if you close your eyes you're going to die, but you didn't want to find out.

a dribble of drool slinks down your chin. your head is throbbing. there's a dull ringing in your ears, and it's becoming harder to keep yourself awake or alive. feeling your eyes closing on their own, you felt stinging tears rushing down your cheeks. then, you felt it, a sudden warmth in your lower region. that familiar ache in your womb. a few more harsh thrusts, and you were leaking all over his cock. he followed suit, thick ropes of cum fill you up soon after. thankfully, he let go. you thought he was going to kill you for a second.

gasping, you lurched forward, letting yourself rest on the desk. your head was spinning and your legs felt like jello. you didn't speak, just laid there. It takes you a minute to collect yourself. Especially after fearing for your life. You were pretty sure he was going to kill you. He pulls out of your wordlessly, slipping his cock back in his pants. Once you convince yourself that you're okay, you pull up your pants. The feeling of his cum gushing out of you is kinda gross but you can deal. You're going straight home anyway so you can wash it off when you get there.

He doesn't say anything until you're walking away, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. We still have much to improve after class."

The implications are enough to have you red-faced and very excited for the day to come. You don't know why you're still fooling around with him. Despite the fact that he may be dangerous. It entices you further like the dumb little girl you are. So, like an idiot, you give a coy smile over your shoulder, "yes, Mr. March. I'll be there."

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of war and the character's grandson fighting in it, the possibility of him having been killed in action and his parents' grief because of it, also caused by the fact that he is their only child, a President's assassination, a presumed suicide having happened that same day, the possibility of that death having been a murder and a witness coming forward to talk about it after fourty years.

•This fanfiction is a History AU inspired by my favourite episode of the TV show "Cold case", "Boy crazy".

•For the sake of the story, the members of the team are all around the same age, they don't have the same age differences as they do in the actual show. Most of them are also just friends and (for a part of the story) schoolmates, not co-workers, and none of them works for the FBI or even the police or anything like that.

•None of the member of the team lived in Washington either when they were young. In 2003, the most recent year the story takes place in, they are all scattered around the United States, but most of them (not David) were born and raised in Lancaster City (Pennsylvania). You will understand why I made this decision as you read the story. And no one is the same age as they were in the actual show, also for the sake of the story.

•And yes, I made Erin and Rossi a married couple with all their children alive, making her three children his too and his two kids hers too, to avoid all that mess with David's divorces and all that.

•Spencer will be 12 years old and in his first year of high school because he is a genius and skipped some grades, but just two, not as many as he did in the series. I couldn’t bring myself to make him a 9-year-old in highschool maybe. Sorry.

•The story's title, instead, is similar to the one I found in a titles-themed Wattpad story. I asked for permission from the story's author to use it, though.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @rynwritesreid, @chrrysgirl, @achillmango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @hugyourlungs, @cancersunthatsit, @strangermoonlove, @myastronomicallife.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 1: New information on an old case

When they were woken up by the sound of David's phone ringing at 6 am on June 12, 2003, the first thing both 80-year-old David Rossi and his 78-year-old wife Erin thought of was their 23-year-old grandson Samuel, who was a soldier and fighting in Iraq at that moment.

Had he been killed?

If he had, they needed to answer the phone and maybe even go to their daughter Nancy and son-in-law Michael's house immediately.

Even for Dave and Erin, who had five kids, the mere thought of losing one of them was heart-shattering, but if Samuel had actually passed away, Michael and Nancy would have to bury their only child.

The pain of that would have been unbearable and they had to be there and support them.

Fortunately, however, when David grabbed his phone and looked at the display, he didn't see their daughter or son-in-law's name on it.

Instead, there was an unknown number, and while the man would have usually rejected a call like that, something inside him told him that one was important, so he got out of bed as quickly as he could and left the room to answer.

And about ten minutes later, he walked back into his bedroom with a huge smile on his face.

"Who was it? What's going on?" Erin, who had gotten out of bed too by that time, immediately questioned.

"It was a man named Matthew Benton. He asked if he could meet me at a bar in our city tomorrow. He apparently has new information on the death of Emily Prentiss. Obviously, I said yes. We are meeting at 3 pm tomorrow" her husband replied, feeling and sounding more excited than he had been in a pretty long time.

"Who?" Erin asked at first, but a few seconds later, she remembered.

"Oh, yes, that 18-year-old girl who committed suicide in Pennsylvania on the day President Kennedy died! I remember now. You were obsessed with that case for weeks right after it happened" the woman added, feeling even more interested in that conversation by then.

Even after fourty years, she still remembered that case almost perfectly, but most importantly, she was certain she already knew what her husband was thinking at that moment.

"You already know I don't think it was a suicide, Honey. I never thought it was, and maybe tomorrow I'll find out I am right" Dave explained, already feeling sure he would have discovered he had been right all along the next day.

"And then what? Even if your theory was correct, you are not a policeman, David, just a crime writer, and you haven't written anything in fifteen years" Erin retorted, not to tear the man down, but to bring him back to reality in her opinion.

"And then I'll tell the police what I discovered, that poor girl will finally have the justice she deserves and her mother and son will get to know the truth about how she died" Dave responded, and at that, all his wife could do was smile.

When David put his mind to something, there was no stopping him from achieving it, and while that had caused even heated arguments between them several times in their fifty-eight years of marriage, that day Erin felt extremely proud of him because of it.

Whatever had happened to Emily Prentiss on November 22, 1963, her husband would have soon discovered it.

She had no doubt about that.

[goldie-fairbank]

have you heard about [ GOLDIE FAIRBANK ]? [SHE/HER] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TWENTY THREE YEARS ]. they’re [ FOURTY TWO ] yrs old and seem very [ CREATIVE ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ SPOILED ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ TEACHER ]. they often daydream about [ GUCCI SHOPPING BAGS PILED ON A MARBLE FLOOR ].

Full bio under the cut

Goldie grew up surrounded by luxury. Her parents were both movie stars who earned more than enough money to give Goldie everything she could possibly wish for. They paid for her designer clothes, a private education, and when she was old enough they opened doors for her to make it into the industry. By the time Goldie was nineteen she even had some fame in her own right although that was largely because she had started dating a well known actor, and not the overproduced pop album she had made under guidance from her agent. Her pop career never truly took off, something Goldie didn’t mind. She was perfectly content living under her parents’ shadows so long as she could always afford the latest Dior collection. Goldie adored fashion and glamour and anything creative. When her parents and agent finally accepted that Goldie wasn’t destined to be the next big pop diva they allowed her to shrink back into the shadows and pursue a degree in art history. If she wasn’t going to be a success in the entertainment industry at least she could get a world class education, her parents had told her. They didn’t care what degree she chose so long as she was studying, and out of their way. 

Fresh off a well publicised break-up with her famous boyfriend, Goldie felt free to pursue her true passions away from the watchful eye of the press. She flourished at university, finding her true creative streak. She’d never been much of an artist herself, but she appreciated the beauty of all forms of art. She attended museums most weekends (before going off to party in the evening) and her interest in fashion and particularly fashion history was piqued. She was good at pairing colours and knowing what looked good, and it felt like she was finally discovering who she was supposed to be. And then it happened. A zombie outbreak. It was like something out of a nightmare. 

Being the rich, eccentric types, her parents already had a bunker prepared for emergencies such as this and they sent a private jet to pick up Goldie and bring her back to them. Only the jet never arrived. To this day Goldie doesn’t know what happened, but after days of waiting in the airport for her parents to save her she finally had to accept that she was alone now. They weren’t coming for her. Maybe they were dead. Maybe they just didn’t think she was worthwhile keeping around. Afterall, she was just another mouth to feed with no discernible skills that would be useful in a situation like this. Fending for herself wasn’t something Goldie did well, but she at least had some sense and while the world was disintegrating her money and valuables were still worth something. If the world truly was ending she knew Gucci handbags wouldn’t be worth much for much longer and so she traded away those she could bear to part with for protection, food and water, and even a ride to Pittsburgh where there was word of a camp having been set up for survivors. 

Goldie struggled to fit in at the camp. She still clung to remnants of her old life. Despite everything that had happened she insisted on curling her hair every morning, and when she was accused of wasting electricity for such trivial matters she found new ways. She used rags to twist her hair in curls and set them overnight. She mixed drops of oil in with her lipstick just to make it last that much longer. She still took great pride in the way she looked, dressing up as if she were going to the red carpet whenever she was given an excuse to do so. She contributed very little to the survival of the camp, but Goldie truly did not see the point in her survival if she wasn’t able to experience the joy of admiring her freshly painted nails.

Finding a job for Goldie there was difficult. She had almost no practical skills. Goldie had never even had to cook for herself - even throughout university she’d had a home chef hired by her parents to ensure Goldie wouldn’t be living on a diet of take-out and cocktails. She found a good fit finally, as a teacher. Goldie was well educated in history and the arts, she even spoke some latin, and so it was decided she could provide the children of the camp with an education of the world before everything broke down.

Goldie loved her job. She preferred the company of the children of the camp more so than the adults - the children seemed to understand her. They too missed the silly little things of their lives. While Goldie longed for a new pair of black heels, the children in her classes cried about missing their favourite video games, or toys and so she did her best to provide substitutes. For a child who had complained about missing his Pokemon game she had spent her entire weekend creating her own version of Pokemon cards, drawing what creatures she could remember (but mostly making up ones of her own) and assigning them statistics to battle with. And when she couldn’t create a substitute herself she’d trade with the supply runners to get it. 

She’d always seen the value of the smugglers, and most of them knew just how much she would give for something so seemingly trivial. While they were out searching pharmacies for medicine, if they happened to pocket a tube of lipstick, they’d be well rewarded by Goldie. At first she traded some of the few valuable things she still had - an expensive watch or scented candles - but when they ran out she would trade food or water or even sex if the item were valuable enough to her. She’d get things for the children too, and fill her classroom with toys and interesting things from the outside world. She liked to think her classroom was an escape from the horror outside, and a place to discover the luxuries of the old world.

[deaniethebeanie]

[r-is-typing]

with a little help | s.r

summary: in which two co-workers need a little help from their friends… requested?: Yes! Requested by @night-sky-full-of-stars request: “hello lovely! I absolutely adored at first sight! would I be able to request a spencer reid x plus size fem!reader? a mutual-pining story where she's also in the BAU as a psychologist and they're both too shy to make the first move? bonus points if the other BAU members try to nudge them along a little. thank you! your writing is immaculate 🤍 (also no pressure for timing or length, you got this x)”

pairing: spencer reid x plus size fem!reader category: fluff

content warnings: a little bit of insecurities towards the end, but mostly just pure, tooth-rotting fluff and mutual pining, s7 reid because he has my heart 

word count: 1k+

Running late to work was not something Y/N L/N was used to in her normal routine, but, today was different. The train from D.C to Quantico was usually on time, especially for the train Y/N having to take, arriving at 5:30am to get to Quantico by 7, making space if changes were to happen. But, the train was running late more than usual and it had stressed her out awfully. 

“Y/N, hey.” 

She recognized that small, but familiar voice anywhere. The voice, in fact, being fellow FBI employee, profiler Dr. Spencer Reid. Her eyes looked up from her nails she was picking at to Spencer who stood awkwardly gripping his satchel. 

“Spencer, hi. I didn’t know you took this train.” 

Spencer shook his head, shuffling awkwardly, before settling his feet. “I don’t, normally, but I didn’t finish some paperwork because we got back so late from the most recent case, so I decided to go up early.” Y/N smiled at this. She never figured Spencer was the type to not get anything done, especially with how he was. Reading 20k words a minute, an IQ of 187, and his eidetic memory served well within the BAU, making him the smartest on the team, at least in Y/N’s mind. 

That made sense, considering she had been harboring a liking for the man for the past two years, since her first day of being a psychologist for the BAU when needed, but mostly for other departments in the Bureau. The train finally pulled into the station, it being 6:15 in the morning. The two boarded. “So, I’ll see you-” “Would you like to sit with me?” The two agents talked over each other, making the two share a small smile. 

“Oh, sure, Spencer.”

She walked over to where the tall man chose to sit, sitting next to him. “So, how was the case, anyway?” Spencer’s face lit up, which would be surprising to anyone who didn’t know Spencer, but only knew his line of work. Lighting up at the mention of talking about serial killers? What a Spencer Reid thing to do. 

“Well, it was actually a bit of a long one. This guy had been copying the Zodiac Killer, basically killing as a set-up to impress his childhood friend who had recently gotten engaged.” Spencer rambled. Y/N listened as he continued to talk animatedly about the case he had just returned from. 

The train had come to a stop 45 minutes later, the two timed it, high-fiving as it came to be fourty-five minutes, and not a second later. Spencer and Y/N walked together to the Quantico Headquarters, quietly conversing between the two of them. 

As the two walked in together, Penelope nudged her coworkers, watching as Y/N walked over to them, and Spencer walked over to make himself a cup of coffee. “Hi, Penny,” Y/N mumbled, walking over to her. “Oh my goodness, are those new jeans? Because they look absolutely amazing on you, I mean, your curves, I’m totally-” Y/N grabbed Garcia by the shoulders. “Yes, Penny, they’re new jeans. You’ve shopped with me before. A lot of shops don’t accommodate women in my size, so I actually got pretty lucky with this one shop."  

“Amen to that, sister.” 

Garcia smiled, hugging the girl once again. Spencer walked up to Y/N after a few minutes, handing her a mug. “I, um, know you don’t like coffee, so I made you some tea.” Y/N bit her lip, trying to hide a smile. “Wow, um, thank you, Spencer.” She took a sip of her tea, humming in enjoyment. 

Y/N joined Penelope, Emily, and JJ who were stood near Emily’s desk. “JJ, how’s Henry?” JJ, being the way JJ was, jumped at the opportunity to talk about her son, which all the women enjoyed.

“Pretty Boy? Are you listening?”

Spencer snapped his head over to Derek’s direction, who leaned against the younger man’s desk, smirking. “See something you like?” Reid’s eyes widened, spluttering out incomprehensible noises. “You like her, don’t you, kid?” Spencer couldn’t help but look down at his shoes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

But, Spencer knew he was caught. He made it annoyingly obvious he was staring at the girl as she awed and smiled as JJ showed the woman pictures of her child.

How could he not like her though? How pretty her smile was, the way her eyes sparkled and lit up when talking about something she thoroughly enjoyed, or the curve of her waist, even down to her thighs.

Was that weird that he thought about her like that when she probably never thought of him at all? That had definitely run through Spencer's mind plenty of times, but that didn't stop him from becoming infatuated with the girl, pining over her day after day.

Derek laughed. “Alright, well, if you don’t, maybe I’ll see if Y/N wants to go to dinner with me tomorrow night.” He stood up, causing Spencer to be, shockingly, the fastest Morgan had ever seen him move in the 7 years he’d worked with Reid. 

Across the room, Penelope Garcia also had a plan up her sleeve. “So, Y/N, Spencer's pretty cute, don't you think?" She smirked. Y/N looked between Garcia, Emily, and JJ, then to the guys across the room and back to the girls.

"'Course he is. Have you seen him? Although, I never picked him as your type, P."

Garcia giggled. "Oh, honey. He's not. But, what's your type?" Y/N looked over at her and glared, knowing exactly what she was referring to. "Penny..."

Emily looked between the two. "I feel like we're missing something.." Garcia nodded. "Let's just say, our favorite girl genius has been lovingly doting on our resident genius for months now, spilling how attractive she finds him after, hm, what is it? A glass and a half of wine?"

Y/N sheepishly smiled. She recalled the nights she was drunk where all she could remember at the time was Spencer. The way he talked, walked, dressed, and his mannerisms. Everything about the man starting from his sandy brown hair all the way down to his black converse, she loved it all.

The two meet in the middle of the room, spluttering out words including “like”, “date”, and “tomorrow”. Spencer then takes a breath before speaking. “Y/N, I really like you, and I was hoping, maybe, I, uh, could take you to dinner tomorrow night?” 

Y/N looks down at the floor of the bullpen. “Are you sure you’d wanna go out with me? I’m sure I’m not Dr. Reid’s type and all..” She recalls seeing what Maeve had looked like, so going from Maeve to her made thoughts run all through her head, thinking Spencer wouldn’t want to be with her. 

“You’re kidding, right? Looks don’t matter to me. All I can about is if we’re happy, and what’s on the inside; your personality is the only thing I care about, and, of course, if you can get along with the team. Which, you can. Besides, you’re so pretty, and funny, and just… everything I could ever ask for.”

Y/N smiled softly before looking up at Spencer, extending her hand. He takes her hand in his and shakes it, confused nonetheless. 

“It’s a date, Dr. Reid."

She linked her arm through his as they walked to the other side of the bullpen. "As long as we’re talking terms though, the tea you made me? I’m going to need you to make me that every day..” 

r is writing... this is my first time writing for a specific type of character, so I really hope you enjoy it. I really like the direction I went with it, but, then again, that is just my personal opinion. Again, thank you for the request!

r is signing off...

[lixiepeach]

Love Bites, Part 1

Summary: Fourty-seven years ago, Y/N’s life ended after a chance encounter at a nightclub with her now vampire sire Hyunjin. The arrogant ex-prince has hated her since that night, blaming her for everything and has made it his goal for the rest of eternity to make sure she knows it.

Another chance encounter has her pining after a very human university student. She knows getting close to him will put his life at risk, but she can’t help but be drawn in by his sweet nature and adorable smile. What happens when her vengeful sire learns of her interest in the human boy? Can she save him or will Hyunjin ruin everything once again?

Characters: Vampire!Chan, Vampire!Minho, Vampire!Changbin, Vampire!Hyunjin, Vampire!Jisung, Vampire!Felix, Human!Seungmin, Human!Jeongin, Vampire!Reader

Pairing: Starts Hyunjin x reader, but endgame is Jeongin x reader

Warnings: Blood (it’s vampires so…), violence, a little gore, pining, alcohol, lots of death, explicit sexual content, plenty of angst and some fluff, Hyunjin is a major asshole.

A/N: Here it is!! Part 1!! I really like this story and I hope you do too!! I’m really excited about it and I’m really looking forward to posting it. It’s going to be shorter than Red Moon, probably only 10 parts max. It also deals with some sensitive subjects, but pretty much all my writing does. Also, the closest vampire archetype to the ones I’ve modeled the vampires on in this story are the vampires from True Blood. I’ve made a few small changes, but they’re the closest to how these vampires function. Let me know what you think!! (I’m also very inept at making banners and images so have this sort of banner fort his series) Also this chapter does switch viewpoints for a moment but it’s the only one that does. The rest will be in second person.

1973

He’s like an angel. His body moves so gracefully to the beat of the disco music booming through the speakers. His shirt is barely holding on, two buttons in the middle the only thing holding it together. Smooth expanses of porcelain skin are revealed with every movement. The shirt billows around his slim hips, long legs encased in simple black trousers. His black hair is shoulder length, held back partially by a simple tie. He’s ethereal, completely lost in the moment as he dances. 

The bodies on the dance floor have left a clearing around him, most of them too intimidated to approach. Those bold enough have been ignored or downright shunned. He’s waiting for the one. The right one. 

You’ve been watching him for the past few weeks. He frequents this club on the weekends when it’s the most busy. You yourself don’t frequent it often, but this mysterious stranger has drawn you in. He comes early, never drinks, and disappears when the club is at its busiest. You’ve never been able to follow him; one second he’s there, the next he’s gone. You tug at the hem of your dress as his eyes scan over the crowd around the dance floor. You’re cursing yourself for wearing long sleeves as his eyes train on you. A beading sweat forms on the back of your neck, a smirk crossing his lips before he’s turning, eyes breaking contact. 

You continue to watch him move in ways you never thought humanly possible. He turns to look at you again over his shoulder, plump lips pulled back as he bites at his finger before spinning in a circle. You’ve never been much of a dancer, but perhaps tonight you were going to be. 

You down the rest of your drink before weaving through the crowds as they press closer to the dance floor, the beat of a new song starting. It’s not hard to find him, your body practically colliding with his, but he steadies you with hands on your hips. Something sparks beneath your skin at his touch, hands gripping his strong shoulders as he pulls you closer. He’s chosen you. Out of everyone in the packed club, you’re the one tonight.

His body moves, hands guiding yours as if he knows you’re inexperienced in this medium. His eyes are intense as they stare down at your face, your own eyes focused on his. His face is youthful, younger than you would have expected but you can feel he’s an old soul. There’s an age to him that you can’t find in his looks. 

He brings you closer, hips gently grinding against yours as he wraps you completely in his arms. You let your arms wrap around his neck, his mouth going to your ear. 

“You’ve been watching me.” He says, voice just as melodic as you had imagined. 

“Everyone watches you.” You say, pressing your face close to his neck so you can hear. He’s taller than you, even in your heeled boots he’s leaning down to reach you. 

He laughs at that, lips brushing against your skin. “But you especially. Found something you like?” 

You can’t help it, the alcohol starts to go to your head as you nod. He pulls away from you a bit so he can stare at you again, biting his lip. Desire is thrumming through your body to the beat of the music. You want him. By the way he’s looking at you, you know he wants you too. This angel that had hypnotized the entire club had chosen you. 

But you were soon to learn he was no angel. 

He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd of bodies. They seem to part for him, though no one gives you a parting glance. He leads you to the back of the club, exiting through the back door. The cold air outside the club chills your skin, the thin material of your dress suddenly not enough. Though it doesn’t matter, because he’s pressing you up against the wall of the building. Despite the warm club you had just left, his body is strangely cold as he presses it to yours, pinning you to the wall. 

His lips are just as soft as you pictured, sliding against yours as you kiss him. He wastes no time, hands lifting you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, sliding past it and right into your heat. He’s thick, stretching you as he presses inside. He’s far from your first, not even your first frolic behind the nightclub. But he is the first to make you feel as if you could cum instantly from the feeling of him inside you. 

His thrusts are as graceful as his dancing, lips on yours to muffle your moans as he fucks you in the alley. You wonder if he does this to all the people he disappears with. If you would ever see him again. 

He begins to get sloppy, chasing his high as he presses kisses across your jaw, working his way to your neck. “I’m sorry.” You think you hear him whisper moments before a sharp pain burns on your neck. 

You sober instantly, starting to panic as something tugs at your neck. You can feel something sliding down your skin. Blood. The slurping sounds are loud in your ears as you realize what’s happening. He’s drinking your blood. You try to fight him, but he’s insatiable, your vision beginning to blur as he sucks your very life away. 

*******

Chan grips the back of the younger vampire’s neck, yanking him away from the poor girl he was draining. He tosses the vampire against the dumpster with a loud clang, not giving him time to recover before he’s grabbing the ex-prince, holding his body against the dumpster. 

Felix checks the girl slumped in a heap on the ground. Her pulse is weak, getting slower and slower. Blood is staining the front of her pink dress, flowing steadily from the wound on her neck. 

“You’ve done enough damage.” Chan says, squeezing his neck so hard he can feel the tendons straining against each other. “This is out of control. You’re done.” 

“Turn her.” Felix says, looking up at the two younger vampires. They were older in human age, but he was older in his vampire age. “That will be your punishment. She will be your responsibility.” 

Turning a human was a big choice. It was not something taken lightly. Newborn vampires were a big responsibility, much like newborn human children were. Only newborn humans weren’t impossibly strong, fast, bloodthirsty monsters. It wasn’t something a vampire could just do and then walk away. They could, but then their newborn would be a danger to humans and to vampire-kind. Usually they didn’t live long without someone to teach them. 

Chan forces Hyunjin over next to Felix, Felix biting open Hyunjin’s wrist before placing it between the girl’s lips. He knows this is a gamble, forcing Hyunjin to become a sire. But perhaps having a life to look after would teach him the delicacy of the human lives he had toyed with for the past few months. 

Or he would not change, and he had just doomed another poor soul to endure his wrath for eternity. 

*******

The process is excruciating. As the vampire blood begins to take over, the human cells begin to die. Felix’s sire had once told him it was like a rapidly spreading infection, taking over every cell of the body. Most were unlucky enough to be awake for it, feeling as their body changes. Felix likened it more in these modern times to a cancer, rapidly spreading over days to destroy every cell and replace it with its own. It would start in the stomach, spreading outwards until it reaches the brain and the heart. The physical changes would already be starting before the brain and the heart give, the fangs developing, the chilling of the body as the blood leaves it, the brain chemistry changing until at last the heart gives out, stilling for the rest of eternity. 

Chan and Minho have left, unable to bear the screams from the basement. Felix had meant to get the room soundproofed, but he simply had forgotten. Chan was no stranger to turnings. He had been Felix’s first nearly five hundred years ago. Felix himself was over 700 years old, having been injured in war and found by his sire. He had taken Felix under his wing, teaching him everything he could about history, vampires, art, literature. 

He had fallen in love with Chan, a musician in the Joseon courts who had contracted a deadly illness. He had turned Chan, unable to let his first real love go. He passed the knowledge given to him by his sire onto Chan, who parted ways for a while in the early 1700s. 

Hyunjin had been an accident. He had been a Joseon prince. Third in line for the throne, likely to never see it. Chan had disguised himself as a servant and gotten close to the prince. It had been a fateful day during training that had made him lose control. Intense thirst had broken him when the young prince accidentally cut himself and Chan had drained him. Chan turned him out of guilt, seeking out Felix again to help him. 

Hyunjin had been insatiable from the start. He never forgot who he was, and the newfound power only went to his head. Felix had hoped the centuries would calm him but it had only slightly sated his bloodlust. The arrogant prince had turned into an arrogant vampire and he was their biggest threat. Perhaps this decision to turn the girl would help him. 

Minho had been injured in the 1919 rebellion. Felix had taken pity on him and turned him. He was strong, but he showed impeccable control. He had quickly joined Chan in his efforts to rein Hyunjin in, but the prince was fast. The fastest of all of them, and the sneakiest. 

Felix makes his way down the stairs to the basement. The girl is still alive, barely, on the edge of her last moments as a human. She’s damp with sweat but her skin has taken on a pallor. Her eyes are bloodshot, blood still on her mouth from when her fangs had split her gums open. She’s shaking, breaths shallow as she stares up at him. 

“I-I’m so-so cold.” She whispers. 

“I know.” Felix says, pressing on her gums to push the fangs out. They were fully developed now, her change almost through. “It’s almost over.” 

“P-Please...” She whispers, eyes drifting closed. 

He shushes her, brushing the damp hair from her face. “Soon. It will all be over soon.” 

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

Hyunjin wakes to screaming again. Felix had forced him to stay in the house as his newborn changed, forcing him to listen to her agonized screaming as his blood had worked its way through her system. He hates her already for ruining everything. 

He makes his way down to the basement. This screaming is not incoherent as the first had been. No, she’s begging now. Screaming for anyone to hear her. 

He stands over her, looking down at her. Her fangs are out and she’s struggling against the chains holding her to the stone table. The table is old, older than Felix. The house had been built around it, meant for their kind. The furnace had been added later, meant to help keep the dead bodies from piling up. 

“Please...I’m so thirsty!” She cries, begging Hyunjin with her eyes. 

He has half a moment where he debates leaving her there, letting her suffer and die of thirst. But he knows Felix will take pity on her before that happens. If he didn’t care for her, Felix would. Or worse, Felix would force him to. Instead he undoes her chains, grabbing her before she can move too far. He keeps his hand around the back of her neck, leading her upstairs and out the front door. He wraps his arms around her, taking off into the air, flying around the city before finding what he’s looking for. 

He lands on a rooftop, a lone homeless man digging through the trash in the alley beneath them. He doesn't let her go yet, forcing her to look down at him. “Smell that?” 

She closes her eyes, inhaling the sweet scent of blood. “What is that? Why does it smell so good?” 

“That’s his blood. You’re going to drink it.” 

He lets her go, interested to see what she’ll do. She moves without even thinking, jumping off the roof onto the back of the homeless man, sinking her teeth into his neck. She drinks until he stops screaming, sucking every last drop from his body. Hyunjin jumps down next to her as she pushes herself away, blood staining her mouth and neck, soaking into the front of the nightgown Felix had dressed her in. 

“What did I do?” She asks, gagging. 

Hyunjin grips her neck, forcing her to stop. “That’s the only thing that’s going to keep you alive now. Get used to it. You don’t want to throw it back up. You’ll just get thirsty again and kill someone else. Do you want to do that? Kill two when only one needed to die?” 

She shakes her head, lower lip trembling. He scoffs, pushing her away, moving to the homeless man’s body, slinging it over his shoulder. 

“Come on. I’ll show you what to do next.” 

*********

2021

You stare down at the people moving around the courtyard. The night classes were finishing, the last of the students heading back to their homes. You lean your chin on your crossed arms, watching one of the students make his way down the path. 

“You like him.” 

You don't jump at the sudden appearance of the elder vampire. You knew he was there, watching you. You were disappearing from the house more and more, and you knew he was just making sure you weren't doing anything dangerous. 

“I’ve never even met him.” You say, looking away as he disappears down the street. 

“Be careful.” Felix warns you. “Humans that get involved with our kind...it never ends well.” 

But you know this. You know it well. 

Their little pack had grown since you had been turned. Minho had found Jisung back in the 90s, and Felix had saved Changbin from a fire in the early 2000s. It had been almost 48 years since the night you had met Hyunjin and your entire life had changed. Well, your life ended. Most of the people you knew were in their 60s and 70s, your own disappearance going mostly unnoticed besides a few friends that had plastered missing posters over your neighborhood for a few weeks. The case had quickly gone cold though, and you remained one of the thousands of missing people who would never turn up each year. You often sat and thought about how many of them had become vampires, led into a life of darkness never able to return to the light again. And you thought about how many of them were the victims of those vampires. 

You run along the rooftop, following silently behind the boy as he makes his way home. You know the way already, the route he always goes to get there. It’s a simple two story house on a street that housed a lot of students at the university. He lives there with two roommates, all three of them undergraduates. Jeongin, his best friend Seungmin, and an acquaintance Young-hyun. Jeongin was the one you watched, the one that interested you. 

You had met by accident. You had been wandering the university’s paths unaware the night classes had just let out. You had walked right into him, trying to hurry away from the bleary-eyed students. He had apologized despite it being your fault, offering you a dimpled smile that had your frozen heart warming just the slightest. 

You had been following him since, having memorized his schedule this semester. He would get out of class around 9 PM and head right home to eat and study. Seungmin would greet him before heading to bed to get up early for his morning class. Young-hyun worked nights so he was always gone, sleeping during the day when the other two were away at classes. You had only caught glimpses of Young-hyun, usually on the weekends when all three were home all day. 

You lay yourself flat on the roof, listening in on the conversation happening in Jeongin’s room. His room was at the front of the house on the second floor. He liked the window open when it was nice out, preferring the fresh air. That also made your life easier. 

“Did you see JB is throwing a party this weekend?” Seungmin says, flopping back on Jeongin’s bed. 

“Why do you want to hang out with them?” Jeongin asks, spinning around in his desk chair. 

“Because, these are the people that are going to be running the companies that we’re going to work for. If we get to know them now, we have an in later after we graduate.” 

“I don’t know. I’m not much of a party person.” Jeongin says. 

“Neither am I. We just go, hang out for a while, and then we leave before things get too crazy. It’s a chance for you to get out. Maybe meet some girls.” 

A book hits the wall, probably thrown by Jeongin at Seungmin. An idea forms in your head, a smile grows on your face as Seungmin bids his friend goodnight, and Jeongin settles in to study for the next few hours. You lay there on the roof until he falls asleep, listening to the steady beat of his heart for a moment before getting up, heading back to the house before the sun comes up. 

You make your way up to your room, pausing in Hyunjin’s doorway. It’s open, your vampire sire sitting near the window with a laptop. It was his fourth one this year, having broken the other three in tantrums over something stupid you were sure. 

“Hyunjinnie I need money.” You say, approaching the vampire. 

He doesn’t bother looking up, still typing on the computer. “Why?” 

“I want to go shopping.” 

“Why?” 

“I want to buy new clothes.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I do.” 

He glances at you for a second. “No.” 

“Why not!” 

“You already have clothes.” 

“But I want new ones!” 

“No. Go ask Felix if you’re so desperate.” 

You sigh dramatically, stomping out of his room. You thought maybe you could annoy him enough to give in without having to explain but it seemed that wasn’t going to work this time. You could have just asked Felix, but he would want to know what it was for. Which meant you had to give away your plan and risk the elder vampire locking you away to keep you from executing your plan. He’d done it before. You’re sure he’ll do it again. 

You find him in the basement, closing the furnace doors. “Felix.” You lean against the wall casually. “I need money.” 

“Why?” He asks, pulling the lever to turn the furnace on. 

“I want to buy clothes.” You say, moving away from the intense heat coming through the door. 

“What for?” 

You chew on your lip. “A party this weekend.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you. “A party?” 

You nod. “At the college. I want to go.” 

“Does this have anything to do with the boy?” 

You nod slowly. “He’s going and...maybe...I thought I might...get to see him closer.” 

Felix grips your arms gently, holding you at arm's length. “You have to be careful. Things could go wrong very fast and I don’t want you getting hurt. Feed before if you have to. Just in case.” 

You nod. “I know. I just...really like him and I thought...maybe if I could just meet him once...I could get him out of my head.” 

Felix smiles a knowing smile, digging his card out of his wallet. “Be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt, or hurting anyone else.” 

You nod. “I promise I’ll be careful. Oh, and if we could keep this between us...” 

Felix nods, shooing you away. “Of course.”

[bonnymori]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

[bangtanpromptsfics]

hyacinth. (m)

dialogue prompt #3: “Your tutor is so hot”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: f2l(?), light smut

word count: 1,540

warnings: heavy making out, grinding, blonde!jk

summary: you think your new tutor at school is hot and jungkook is determined to change that

a/n: another mature oneshot. I basically die from embarrassment while writing smut lol.

masterlist

“Your tutor is so hot”. Jungkook turns around to your attention so fast he could probably snap his neck.

“Mr. Seokjin? ”, he knows who you are talking about. The new personality development tutor of your school, more like the entire population’s crush at this point. And Jungkook hated him just for the same reasons, it seems petty but he can't help himself.

“Go fuck him then”, he snorts, swinging his back pack from one shoulder to another while you grin. Almost as on queue, Seokjin appears on the hallways and passes a smile towards all the students.

“Oh yes. Look at that a--”

“I guess that's enough for today, come on we gonna get late”, he grabs your arms and pushes you forward to move, having enough of your daily ranting about angelic beauty and who the hell laughs at some dad joke?

“When were you ever interested in math Kook?”, you tease him, resisting him to walk slower, “Oh are you perhaps… jealous!? ”

“I'm not jealous. You are annoying”, he shoots cold face.

“Hey! I'm just saying he's attractive you don't have to be so mean about it”, you whine, hitting his arm.

You see, the fact that Seokjin stole Jungkook’s high school heartthrob position in two days is one thing, but he never expected you to act the same, especially when you were so different from most students on the campus. In fact he is shocked to see you crushing on someone. You despised people in general and he kept wondering what's there in their teacher to be so lurk about because he honestly doesn't see anything.

“He's old. And everyone knows he has a girlfriend, you guys dumb or what? ”, Jungkook teases back.

“Doesn't mean I can't praise a beautiful human”

“So he's the only attractive guy in the school? ”, he's curious now and also lowkey wants to find out if you had felt anything like this about himself.

Jungkook knew he was hot. He knew he could destroy Seokjin's reputation with one different hair color but that's too much drama over nothing. As if there isn't ten assignment waiting for him at home. Yeah he got better things to do.

“Nope”, comes your immediate answer. And man that hurt. You are smart and cocky and it would be cool to know someone like you finds him attractive, but you just hurt his ego.

“Not even me? ”, he asks, all squeaky and with a small pout and you return him a smile.

“See you at 7 Kook”

____

School ends at 5, and thankfully both of your residence are nearby and there's a party hosted by Jimin at his house which is a five minute drive so Jungkook has roughly one hour and fourty five minutes to make an appearance to the party. And by appearance he means to look absolutely endearing. He's never the type to bang a lot of chicks, he didn't even need to do anything than to wear a black tee and jeans to a party and could still get laid. If he wanted sex, he can have that any time he wants.

But today is different.

He's never been this eager to be at a gathering, took time to pick outfits and oh dye his hair. He has never experimented with hair colors except that one time he tried red and got famous by the name ‘cherry head’ in the entire locality.

You of course give yourself the usual thirty minutes to do slight makeup and wear shorts with oversized tee styled enough to merge into the party. And boy you have no idea what you are going to witness today.

Jungkook arrives ten minutes late because the highlights took time to dry off. He styles them, but not too much. He still wanted to look effortlessly handsome and got that long abandoned shear black shirt with blue jeans.

“Woah is that Jungkook!?”, some girls whisper beside the bar you are currently seated at and you turn around, only to feel a pang to your chest. Fuck. A completely look through shirt with fucking tight blue denim is he fucking kidding? And blonde hair? Yeah it's that complete ‘drool over me bitches’ package.

You suddenly feel self aware of how simple you looked. He should have given a heads up because one needs several business days to process blonde Jungkook. He seemed unrecognizable.

“Woah… What's up with this new look!?”, you approach finally. Many people eye him shamelessly in your peripheral vision which is pretty much obvious.

“Nothing. Just felt like it”, he grins, having won you. Jungkook is not attractive who? Yeah he bets Seokjin will never pull off this look.

“You like it? ”, and he undoes first two buttons, exposing a bit of his toning straight to your eyes. Is he fucking teasing? You want to confront him because he's acting weird. But you don't know if this is because you feel different around him.

“Y-yeah… It's good”, you tug a smile.

“Wanna dance?”, he asks and you nod, taking your hand to the dance floor. Most people are wasted but both of you are not. So when you feel him touching more than usual, you are absolutely aware that it's not an accident.

He holds you so close all the time, as if it's something you do daily. Fuck.

“Hold me like this”, he says out of nowhere and throws your hand behind his neck. He knows what he's doing. And you are aware too, but too weak in knees to retract. You hate that you are actually enjoying this and he loved it.

“Y/n….”, he whispers to your ear, tucking a strand of your hair behind it, “Can I kiss you love? ”

Your nod is so soft and innocent before you give in. Most people who were looking forward for Jungkook’s company give up and hook up with other guys around because they know he isn't here for anybody else.

He flushes your hips against his as he kisses you, obviously tongue all the way. He doesn't know why but he wanted to shut your mouth exactly like this whenever you swooned over Seokjin. And he is most certain that all those memories are perished along with the kiss.

He pulls your bottom lip out and looks into your eyes and grinds his hip on yours, and you moan lowly. He internally curses at how sweet you sounded.

“Come with me”. He pulls you out of the crowd and into a private cubicle where people usually make out. And thankfully there was one vacant.

But he isn't quick to act once inside the space. He takes his time to lock the door and to sit at that one chair in the centre, manspreading luxuriously for you to see.

You never did anything like this with Jungkook. It was not like you had friend zoned him, you actually don't know why, all these years you spent casually flirting and shrugging off with each other, and now you can't wait to devour him.

You make your way to his lap and sit right on his hips, sighing at the contact. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it towards him. His other hand taps your butt to continue grinding which you happily do so.

He continues exploring your skin, hooking his hands on your shirt and rubbing circles at the skin there. Feeling his cold hands, you move to undo two more of his buttons to get a peak of his pecs, something you wanted to do the moment you saw him.

He moans into your mouth when your movements start to get him worked up, feeling high and ecstatic. Even with the denim shorts on, the dent on his pants was enough to get you close to orgasm.

“J-Jungkook… ”, you trail off, head slightly falling back which he catches.

“Go on love, almost there”. Fuck. You loved it when he called you names, but this one was, exceptionally very much turning you on.

He detaches his mouth to suckle on your collar bone, exposing it by pulling your t shirt slightly down. It becomes all too much, and you focus on the knot forming at your stomach.

Jungkook stops kissing you, indicating he's chasing his high several moments after yours, glad that both opted for thick denims as bottoms to cover the mess you made.

“We should've done this way before”, you imply, separating the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“We could've, but you were busy drooling over some teacher”, he smugs.

“So you were jealous! ”.

Unfortunately his cocky being doesn't have an answer for that so he dodges it with another long kiss, breaking off with a loud smooch.

“God I can kiss you forever Y/n…”

“And...then? ”, you ask your confusion. You don't know what's your relationship with Jungkook is anymore, now that you had made out with him.

“... then… maybe you'll fall in love with me?”

“See you at the party Kook”, you peck the corner of his lips and get off his lap. After taking a moment to fix your outfit, you leave the cubicle.

And Jungkook knew exactly what he was going to do.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptfics

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog​’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious.  Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

[beau-draws-and-cries]

Late Night Demonics - Hunter Clawthorne AU Oneshot

Summary: Hunter is still adapting to the little demon sharing the bedroom with him

Tags: Hunter clawthorne au, king clawthorne, the owl house, fluff

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33452722

"Psst. Hunter. Hunter. Hunter." King baped him on the face. 

"What!" Hunter said, annoyed by being woken up when he was almost dozing off. The small demon was on his chest, holding one of the plushies Eda gave to him, with those big yellow and pink eyes seemingly staring into his soul "What do you want??? Stop baping me!"

"I, huh, need to go to the bathroom." He muttered, like he was ashamed of asking for it.

"You know where the bathroom is." Hunter said, a bit dry, trying to get into a comfortable position again. 

King looked between the door and Hunter, whimpering a bit, and when Hunter closed his eyes, King baped him on the face again.

"I really, really, really need to go." Now he got sad eyes on, begging something without words, the said eyes slightly glowing into the dim light. Hunter groaned, it looked like he had no choice. He slowly got up, and King went to the floor, near Hunter's leg. 

On the corridor, Hunter was already really annoyed and it got worse when something cracked on the house and King hugged his leg tightly, closing his eyes and whining. When he looked down to King to yell for him to let go of him, something hit Hunter like a truck. That was an actual demon child. Small, scared, needing comfort. He could talk like he knew about stuff and like he lived a long life before being this small child, but King was a 4 years old or so that still was scared of the dark and other stuff, and needed help to stop being scared and just…. Go to the bathroom.  

"Hey, huh, that sound is Hooty snoring. The walls are kinda alive so sometimes the whole house breathes. It freaked me out a lot when I moved here because it seemed like the house would fall apart with me inside. But after you get used to, it's kinda soothing." Hunter calmed him down, remembering that that was how Eda explained it to him on the second week he spent there.

"Really?" The house breathed again, making him scared, but not as much as before, looking around instead of hiding his face into Hunter's leg.

"See? Not scary at all. Just old Hooty-hoot doing his… stuff." They kept walking down the corridor, and finally got into the bathroom. King quickly used it, feeling brave enough to close the door while at it (which Hunter thanked), and then Hunter helped him to reach the sink and wash his paws.

"Every time you come here, wash your paws well. You can get sick and get other people sick if you don't."

King nodded, doing as he was told, and was put on the floor again. They walked half of the corridor when Hunter scooped him up, seeing that his small, short legs were getting tired, and after all, the fur and bone didn't feel that bad against his skin, unlike other witches' skin (one of the reasons he hated the playground. The kids would keep hugging him and touching without asking. And for some reason it always felt sticky and made Hunter want to cry and throw up at the same time), so he could stand it brushing on his arms.

He walked back into the bedroom, putting King into his bed and tucking him in, then laying down on his own bed.

"Night night." King said.

"Night night, little guy." Hunter answered.

"When I get back my powers, I will be remembering this." He said, again telling that story of his powers being stolen with his crown.

"Thank you, King. I would be honored." Hunter played along, smiling. Some minutes passed and Hunter felt something climbing his bed, getting on his chest "Need to go to the bathroom again?" 

"I can't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I am kinda awake too. Huh, have you ever read Demonics: a detailed encyclopedia?" 

"No! What is that?" 

"It's a book I checked in from the library a while ago. It's very interesting, but I never had an actual demon to read it with me." Hunter smiled at him, and got up to get the book in his wardrobe. After sitting on the bed, he lit up his bedside light and King cuddled up in his arms, looking at the book "Do you wanna choose a chapter or can we start from the beginning?"

"I wanna start from the beginning!" King said, excited. Hunter did so, starting to read the introduction for him, and at some point King stopped him "How do you know this is written there?"

"Oh, huh, I read the words on the page. Those formed by the little letters."

"What letter is that?" King pointed to a number 5.

"That's a number. They're used for counting things. Its name is number five. Here, let me show you the numbers. There's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine. There's also the zero that means nothing. Then you can mix and match to form bigger numbers." He skipped to the last page of the encyclopedia "Like the number 867." 

"That's a lot of numbers." King said, amazed.

"Yea, and those are the meanings." Hunter proceeded to show the numbers but now with his hands, closing the hands to show zero. King seemed to be interested, tail waving lightly "Then we got twenty, thirty, fourty… and we go on and on and on and on because numbers are infinite."

"What does infinity means?" King asked, raising his small fingers (claws?) To try to count them.

"It means that something never ends."

"Woah, that's so cool! I hope this book never ends."

"Sorry buddy, but we got only like, 820 pages worth of content. But after we're done with this one, we can get another book at the library."

"And then it will be infinite?"

"Well, no." Hunter said, scratching King's head "But there's a whole lot of books, and it would take a very long time to read all of them. It would look infinite for us." 

King closed his eyes, getting comfier into Hunter arms. After sometime like this, he opened his eyes again, pointing at a letter B on the page.

"What is this letter?"

"It's the letter B. Boiling Isles starts with a B."

"Ohh. So all words start with letters?"

"Yes, all words, like my name or yours."

"And which letter is the first on my name?"

Hunter looked on the page for a K, and got a piece of paper and pen from the drawer. He pointed at a letter K.

"It starts with this letter." He then wrote it on paper "Then there's an I. Can you copy the letter I am pointing at the paper?" He handed the pen, and King nodded, making a shaky I after the K "And now there's an N." He pointed at the N, and waited until King copied it "And then a G. K-I-N-G. King. That is your name."

King cheered, asking for another piece of paper and writing his name over and over. After he got tired of writing the same thing, he cuddled up on Hunter's lap again.

"Can we continue the book?" 

"Sure thing, King." Hunter nodded, continuing to read the book for the small demon, until eventually both fell asleep.

[dear-evanrosier]

Youtube Star (Muggle AU) (Parts 1-3)

Wednesday

Remus thought it was absolutely hilarious when the kids in his class were talking about the new video that Sirius Black had uploaded the day before, especially when one of them asked if he watched the latest. This specific set of questions had started when Remus had accidentally shown his screen saver- a selfie of him and Sirius, which Remus had taken right after making a corny joke, so Sirius was laughing in the photo- to a student while checking a text from said husband. It had sparked so many rumors that he still got bombarded with questions, and the slip up was over three months ago.

"So, Mr.Lupin did you watch Sirius Black's new video? He uploaded one last night!"

Yeah, I spent three hours helping him edit it and pick out the topic.

"No, I don't watch his content."

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

"Turns out Sirius Black is married! Did you know that?"

Yeah, I was the one who put his ring on.

"Nope, that's very cool. Now do your work."

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

"Did you go to his meet and greet in London last week?"

Yeah, I was backstage for ten hours waiting for him to finish talking to all of you.

"No, I went to the park."

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

He ended up having to change the lock screen so the students wouldn't try to go through his phone. He was just lucky none of his students had noticed the ring on his right finger matched the one shown on accident multiple times in some of Sirius' videos. He knew if the students found out then they would never get any work done, so Sirius agreed to keep it a secret.

That is until one morning Remus frogot his lunch at their house, and he only has twenty minutes to eat but their house is thirty minutes away. He decided to go without it, not wanting to make his students miss the test they had the next class. The period ended and he checked his phone, noticing a text sent almost fourty minutes ago.

Sirius❤-You left your lunch at home, can't have my Moony starving. I'll bring it over there.

He rubbed his face with one hand and listened outside, realizing the hall was louder than usual and there was laughter along with a heavy clacking sound that he knew belonged to the black combat boots of his husband.

"Who's that bag for?" Came from the hall, quite muffled due to the wooden door and chattering students.  He stood up and stretched, and walked over to the door, opening it slowly.

He immediately spotted the thick black curls down to the shoulders, wearing Remus' favorite outfit. Plain black jeans that hugged his legs, a chain dangling from one of the belt loops to the closest pocket, and one of Remus' dark green jumpers over top. The black hem of a band t-shirt just visible under the v-neck. He was also wearing a tad bit of eyeliner, which made Remus think he was even hotter. He was taking pictures with the students lining up in front of Remus' door, waiting for their next lesson with him. At the sound of the door opening, Sirius looked away from the camera and spotted the fluffy sandy colored hair and freckles covering his husband's face. He took the picture, muttered an "Excuse me." and ducked from underneath the outstretched student's hand. He walked past the rest of the line up to Remus, who was blushing terribly and had an eyebrow raised. "Yes, Black?" He inquired, and Sirius snorted.

"That's Lupin-Black to you, love." He replied, and placed a soft kiss on Remus' lips. Remus put a hand on his cheek and let the kiss last a second longer before he pulled away and gestured to the shocked expressions across the students' faces. "You know they had a test today, right?"

Sirius smiled and shook his head. "You did not tell me that. Sorry, love." He kissed Remus again and lifted up his hands, showing a paper bag with 'Moony❤' on the front. Remus rolled his eyes affectionately and took the bag. "Thanks, love." He looked back at the students. "I think you broke them," Remus told Sirius, who also turned around to look at the students' faces.

All of the kids who followed or knew of Sirius had their mouths open almost comically. Sirius let out a bark of laughter and turned back to Remus. "What, did you take your ring off?" Remus shook his head and held up his hand, showing Sirius that he still had on his identical ring. A student gasped and grabbed both of their hands, comparing the rings. "You alright there, Lavander?" Remus asked, and the bell rang. Sirius went to leave but the students wouldn't let him, blocking him from leaving the hall. The students in Remus' class ushered the two into the room, not giving them a chance to leave.

It wasn't that big of a shock that they were gay. Both of them had been public about it, actually. Remus wore little pins with pride flags on his jumpers often and would hand them out if a student asked. And Sirius' video with him coming out had gotten well over 10 million views. It was just the fact that their soft academia teacher who liked books, tea, minimal social contact, wearing oversized jumpers, and poems is married to the complete opposite. A grunge YouTuber who loved coffee, wearing band shirts and chains, adored being in the spotlight, and always had on some form of makeup.

After they had practically forced the door closed and sat in their assigned seats, Remus' couldn't help but chuckle. "I must say, this is the most focused I have seen them all year." Sirius laughed and sat on the edge of the teachers' desk, till Remus lightly pushed him off. He hopped off and eyed Remus. "Ok, where do you suppose I sit then?" He asked, and Remus got a cheeky grin, gesturing to an empty student seat in the front row.  "I am twenty-seven, not fourteen." Sirius scowled but took the seat, the students' eyes following him because Sirius Black, a youtube star, is in our classroom and is now sitting five feet from us.

Remus called their attention to the front of the room, but the students still glanced over a Sirius every few moments. "Ok, if we can get through this lesson, we can spend the last twenty minutes of class questioning my husband and me but only if you take some notes. I'll push your test back to tomorrow." A few of the students clapped, and Sirius did too, earning an eye roll and a shhh from Remus. Sirius chuckled but remained quiet during the class because he knew how much teaching meant to Remus. The kids still stole looks at Sirius whenever they could manage, but he kept his eyes on Remus the entire time, enjoying the sparkle he got whenever Remus did something he loved, not just teaching.

The class was surprisingly focused. Remus expected them to not shut up, but it was the complete opposite. Every eye was on him, but he was avoiding a specific set that normally would not be in there. He knew they were probably turning back to Sirius when he wrote something on the board. He ended up being done with the notes in only twenty minutes, giving them half an hour to question them. "Ok, we're done with notes. You can start asking questions."

The students began immediately. There were so many and they were so loud neither adult could make out the words except for few parts.

"Can-"

"Video-"

"Star-"

"Ring-" And that was basically all they could hear.

Sirius got up from where he was sitting and moved back to the teachers' desk, and didn't get shoved off this time. Instead, Remus came over and sat next to him. While the students were shooting their rapid-fire questions, Sirius turned and whispered in Remus' ear, "How often are they like this?" Remus whispered back, "Only when they talk about you, so I'd say all the time." Sirius just chuckled in response. The kids had stopped asking questions by then, so they were just staring at them while they had their short, whispered conversation. "Ok, since you guys stopped asking questions, please ask one at a time," Remus asked, and the students began the questions, just slower.

"Can you post a video so everyone knows?"

"Is his the voice the one in videos from a different room?"

"Since when did you like youtube stars?"

"How come you never showed us your ring?"

"How long have you been married?"

"Forget that, how long have you been together?"

And a lot more. After they stopped talking again, Remus and Sirius began answering questions.

"We've been together for twelve years, married for eight," Sirius told them, and a couple of kids swore because he started making videos ten years ago and nobody realized that he was married for the majority of that time. "How come you didn't mention it?!" A girl from the back shouted, and Sirius chuckled. The two kept answering questions until they got to the last one. "Are you going to make a video making it public?" One boy asked, and the two adults glanced at each other. "Er, I don't know. It's up to Remus, really." Sirius told them, then checked his watch. He jumped off the desk quickly. "Shit, I have to go. I have that meeting in about ten minutes." He placed a chaste kiss on his lips, then waved to the students. He opened the door, waved one last time to Remus, and left. The students in class turned expectantly to Remus, but they didn't get a chance to speak because the bell rang. It was the end of the day since it was an early let out.

A few of the kids in the school who drove managed to get pictures of Sirius on his motorbike, waving at them before he sped off, none of them knowing what he was doing there.

When Sirius got home two hours later, Remus was sitting on the couch, reading a book. After a small discussion, they went to bed, excited for the next day.

Friday

"Quiet down! Quiet down, everyone!" Remus began the class, attempting to call attention to the rowdy group of kids. After they all stopped talking, Remus began his speech. "Since you, all got great marks yesterday, you can have a free day today. Do whatever you like, just stay in your seats and please remain quiet." He sat down at his desk, leaving the students to their own devices. A girl stood up and walked to the front of the room where Remus's desk was. He looked up when she was standing next to him.

"Can I help you, Lavander?" He asked, and she smiled. "Actually, professor, I was hoping I could play a video on your computer?" She asked. Remus, who already knew what video she wanted to play, agreed. She searched up the video titled 'Introducing... My Amazing Husband!' and paused it before it started, turning back to the class. "Have any of you seen this yet?" She asked, and everybody shook their heads. "Good."  She pressed play and sat down, every eye on the projected screen.

Sirius was in his normal chair, his hair in a bun and wearing an oversized jumper and multiple rings on his fingers, giving a mixed vibe. "Ok. It's on. Hi guys! So yesterday, I went to visit my husband at work so I could drop off the lunch he forgot. He does that often."

"No, I don't!" A muffled voice came from behind the closed door, and Sirius snickered and swiveled his chair to face the door as he cupped a hand over his mouth. "Whatever you say, Moony!" He called back before turning his chair again to look at the camera.

"Anyways, I brought him his lunch and his students found out. So when I got home from a meeting later that night, we talked a little. And did more."

"Sirius!" Another muffled shout. Sirius just laughed in response. "Ok, ok! But my dear husband has decided that he is okay with everyone knowing who he is. So, will you come in here, love?"

The door opened to reveal Remus, standing in plaid pajama pants and cropped band shirt hanging just above the waistband of his pants. Sirius eyed him as he came into the room, sitting in Sirius' lap.

"Did you really have to wear my crop top? You know it distracts me." Sirius told him, wrapping his arms around Remus' waist. "Yes. Yes, I did. It's payback for when you wore it and you knew I had to grade papers." Remus responded, and Sirius let out a short bark of laughter. "Fine."

He looked at the camera again, gesturing to the man in his lap. "So, this is my husband. And I wanted to show some videos of a younger us, which Remus has agreed to show. Isn't that right, dear?" Remus nodded and Sirius pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Please be warned that there is some blood in a couple of these videos, I just figured I should tell you in case that stuff freaks you out," Sirius explained.

The footage changed, showing the two as teens, seventeen at the oldest. It was light out and looked to be around summertime. Both were only wearing swimming shorts. Sirius' were dark green and Remus' was a light blue. There was a large tattoo of the star constellation, Sirius, over his heart and the alchemy symbol for water on his right bicep. Remus had phases of the moon tatted on the inside of his right forearm.  They were standing on a roof, the footage shot from the ground. "Jump! Jump, Sirius, jump!" The cameraman yelled, and Sirius nodded enthusiastically while tying his long hair into a bun using the scrunchie on his wrist.

"Of course! You know I always will!" Remus grabbed his hand as soon as he let go of his hair, yelling back. "Absolutely not, James! I don't care if it's onto a trampoline, he will not be jumping off a roof! Peter didn't, so neither will he." Sirius gave a mischievous glance towards the camera then back to Remus, whose eyes widened.

He quickly tried to free his grasp, but Sirius clenched his hand tightly. "No, no no! Sirius Black, I swear on Merlin's saggy tits if you-" his promise was cut short by his own screaming. Sirius ran off the roof at a sprint, dragging Remus with him. The camera followed them as best as possible considering how fast they were falling.

Their hands broke free when they landed, and Sirius bounced away, almost falling off the edge of the trampoline had he not grabbed the metal. He climbed back over and jumped over to Remus, who was laying on his back in the middle. He rolled over him, pushing himself up by his legs and arms overtop of Remus. "Ok there, Rem?" He asked, and Remus huffed, staring away from Sirius.

"No! You could have bloody well killed me!" Sirius laughed and shook his head. "No, I couldn't have. It's barely a ten-foot jump. You've done worse." Remus huffed again and crossed his arms to the best of his ability since Sirius was still hovering over him. Sirius changed his position, moving his legs so he was basically sitting on top of Remus. He used one hand to cup Remus' cheek and force him to look him in the face. "You fell for me." Remus smiled slightly and cupped Sirius' cheek back. "Why, I suppose I did. But that didn't have a bad consequence, so I don't really see how that's worse." Sirius ignored the last bit and brought his face down to Remus' kissing him, who eagerly kissed back. A boy with brown hair jumped over them, causing them to bounce away from each other, and Remus really did fall off the edge.  

Sirius got over there as fast as possible, jumping off the trampoline. James followed him on the ground. Sirius was helping up Remus, who was holding his face with a hand. It looked like he had hit his face into a nearby lawn chair, which had blood on the leg. "Please, let me see." Sirius pleaded with him, and Remus winced as he pulled his hand away, exposing the wound. The large gash went from his left jaw diagonally up to the bridge of his nose. It was an angry red but the color was almost purple around the edges and bled freely.

"Peter! Get the car! We have to go to the hospital!" Sirius called, and Remus put the hand back over his face. The boy with light brown hair ran past the camera to the cars, apologizing over and over. And the camera changed scenes.

Now it was dark out, the stars lighting up the night sky along with fairy lights strung up. The people there were dressed in fancy dresses or long-sleeved collared shirts and slacks. One woman had red hair tied into an elegant bun, adorned with pins that sparkled, had on a wedding dress that was to the floor and flowy. The bodice was covered in jewels that shone when the light reflected off of them. She was dancing with an eighteen-year-old Sirius.

"You really do look beautiful, Lily," Sirius told her before spinning her around and dipping her. She giggled and replied with a "And so do you, Sirius." They kept dancing for a moment until Lily looked away and then quickly turned back to him. "So?" She asked, and Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So what?"

Lily rolled her eyes and gestured to two guys dancing, one in a tux and one wearing black slacks a light blue collared shirt. The one in a tux had glasses and unruly black hair that looked like it had a bad attempt at flattening it. The man in the blue shirt had a large scar across his cheek from his jaw to his nose and freckles covering his face. His soft honey-colored hair was fluffy and hanging over his face. They seemed to be laughing and having fun as they spun each other around. "When are you going to propose to Remus?" She asked, and Sirius stopped for a moment before he continued the small patterned dance.

"How did you know about that?" It was in a hushed tone, but the camera still picked it up. "I was in your flat getting the planner that James left, and I found it when I looked in the couch cushions. Turned out the book was under your bed." She was practically laughing as she told him, purely because of the shocked face. "Besides, it's not like it's a big secret, anyway. You give him this look every time you see him, and he does the same. I'm surprised he hasn't proposed to you yet." Sirius contemplated her words for a moment and offered a small smile. "Thanks, Lils. Oh! I think James wants to dance with you." He nodded his head behind her at the man with black hair.

He held out his hand to Lily and bowed. "Can I have this dance, my dear wife?" Lily giggled and freed herself from Sirius' arms, taking his hand. "Why you can, my dear husband." James chuckled and led her away from Sirius. Remus took her spot, resting his head on Sirus' shoulder as Sirius put both hands on Remus' waist. "Hello, love. Enjoying the wedding?" Sirius asked, and Remus shrugged.

"No matter how many times James said he would marry her, I never actually thought it would happen," Remus spoke freely, and Sirius laughed at the bluntness. "I don't blame you. It took him six years for a date, and I was worried he would screw something up at one point." Sirius responded, then caught sight of the camera on them, and his eyes widened. He murmured something to Remus and let go, walking to the camera.

"Peter! How much did you get?" Sirius asked, staring straight at them. "Almost all of your dance with Lily." The person behind the camera responded, and Sirius groaned and ran a hand through his hair, glancing back at Remus. "Please don't show this to Remus, I don't know when I'm going to do it, and I definitely don't want Remus to find out because you showed him this video." Peter spoke again, "Of course not, Sirius. I wouldn't want to ruin your plan."  "Thanks, Petey." Sirius flashed a grateful smile then walked back to Remus, spinning him around twice before dipping him and kissing him madly.

The screen changed again, showing young kids all wearing black shorts and white t-shirts, holding water guns. It looked like James, Lily, Peter, Remus, and Sirius in a line, in that order. They looked to be about fifteen and were standing in a large grassy field, a large stone manor off to the side. "Mum, are you recording?" A young James asked and someone out of shot responded. "Yes, hun. Am I going to be recording this entire thing?" James nodded eagerly and started talking. "Ok, I don't know if this will ever be put somewhere public, but we're recording this because we want to. Maybe we can show our future kids. Eh, Evans?" He turned to the redhead next to him and she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Really, Potter? I'm only here for Remus, and that's cause he's almost my brother. I am not here for your terrible attempts to get a date." She huffed and moved in between Remus and Peter to escape James. "Alright, I'll leave you alone. But anyway, it is our dear Remus' birthday and being the genius that he is, came up with the best idea for us to do. Tie-dye war!" He held the water gun above his head, the dark liquid sloshing around inside.

"All of our water guns are filled with a different tie-dye color. So we are going to put these goggles on so we don't get any in our eyes- Sirius will you get the goggles?" Sirius walked off-screen, coming back a moment later and passing out the goggles.  He returned to his spot in line and snapped his own pair on. "So. How this works is we just shoot each other until everyone is colored. The person at the end of the game who has the whitest shirt gets to give each one of us a dare later tonight when it gets dark and we set up a fire. Does everyone agree?" James looked down the line and got smiles and nods from everyone. "Ok, then. Mum, on the count of three?" He looked toward the camera as he said it, and the woman behind it immediately started the countdown.

"Three... Two... One... GO!!"

All of them took off, running in different directions trying to hide. Remus, before taking off, managed to shoot each of them with a long stripe down their backs, so that if they stood in a line you could see it. He ran to the side, hiding behind a large tree out so the camera didn't see him. There was a loud shriek, however. Remus ran out from behind the tree, Sirius following right behind him, shooting him with the gun so his back had turned into splatters of navy blue. Remus ran behind a large rock, out of Sirius' view. So he turned his attention to Lily, who was standing near a mound of wildflowers. Her eyes widened almost comically wide, and Sirius aimed for her shirt.

As he shot the dye, Lily was shoved out of the way by James, "Noooooooo." whose front was now almost completely blue as he laid in the grass. Lily knelt down beside him. "Why are you so dramatic?" She placed a kiss on his cheek then ran off, leaving him to be attacked by Remus, who had now left his place from behind the rock to take his turn at the sitting duck. No one noticed Peter and Lily from behind the trees, sneaking up on the group. Then they yelled, "CHARGE!!" and everything was fair game. Hot pink and navy blue and dark green and pastel blue and mint green were flying through the air, all of the colors landing on the others. Well, on most of the others. When the game was finished, Remus had won with his shirt only partly covered in color, the majority of his front was white. The others were completely covered in a mix of colors, hardly any white spots.

They stood back in the line, eyeing Remus with jealousy as James' mother declared him the winner.

TW: Mentions of Child abuse, blood

It was dark again, and they all had blankets wrapped around them, huddling in front of a fire. The camera shifted a bit then was still. "James, honey. I'm going inside to make sure dinner is done, your father will be home soon. The camera is set up in that chair so it can see you all. Don't do anything too reckless." The woman's voice was back. James smiled and looked above the camera. "Thanks, mum. I love you." "Love you too, James."

"OK, since I won, I get to give you each dares!" Remus bounced to his feet and the others groaned. "Should have known you were going to win, mate. You're too smart for your own good." Remus chuckled at Peter's remark and walked around the circle, eyeing them as he passed. He stopped in between Lily and James, smirking at them. Lily's smile dropped. "Remus Lupin I swear to Merlin if you do what I think you're going to do-"

"Oh, don't worry Lily. This is in your favor. Kind of." He waved her off with his hand. "Lily, I dare you to kiss James." Lily looked shocked, and James was elated. She stuttered, and Remus bent down to whisper something in her ear. He stood back up and smiled, but Lily only returned a glare. "Fine. I'll do it." She stood up and took a step closer to James, pecked his lips for less than five seconds, and sat back down. James had a large grin on his face, as did Remus.

"Ok, James. Your turn. I dare you to not ask Lily out for two months." James' grin fell and Sirius roared with laughter at his face. James glared at Remus and huffed. "Ok, then. Only cause it's your birthday. And cause it's getting a little old." Remus' grin spread and he walked back to Peter. "I know you don't like anybody, so I'm giving you something different. Jump off the tree. The small one, of course. I don't want you getting hurt." Remus motioned to the short tree next to them, and Peter stood up, dropping the blanket on the ground where he was.

He walked over slowly, climbing up as high as he could, which was only about four feet off the ground since it was a small tree. "You'll be fine, Petey!" Sirius called at his hesitation, and he yelled back, "Ok!" before jumping off. He rolled once he reached the ground, spinning once or twice before he stopped, sitting on his knees. He held his head for a moment before staggering up and back to his spot on the ground. Sirius clapped him on the back and looked to Remus, who sat beside him.

"Ok, Remmy boy. What's my dare?" Sirius asked, and Remus put a  hand on his chin in mock contemplation. "Kiss me." It was clear what he said, but Sirius still exclaimed in shock. "What?" Remus stumbled over his words at the reaction but stopped the moment Sirius grabbed the top of his shirt and smashed their mouths together roughly, getting catcalls and wolf whistles from the other three. Sirius pulled apart, breathing heavily and still holding onto his shirt.  "Was that a good dare?" Remus asked, and Sirius responded by kissing him again.

The footage changed once again. The room was filled with candles and it looked romantic. Sirius was standing in a white button-down and black slacks, his hair neatly parted. "Remus, can you come in here for a moment, love?" Sirius called, and a voice came from behind the door. "Just a minute, Siri! I'm making dinner!"

"This is more important than dinner!"

"Fine, fine!"

Remus came into the room, wearing just a jumper and jeans. He looked around at the candles, breathless. "Holy shit, Pads. This is amazing." He stepped forward cautiously, making sure to not knock any over. He looked Sirius up and down before practically jumping on him and kissing him madly. After a moment he put his feet back on the floor, still holding onto Sirius' shoulders and their foreheads together. "This is so beautiful, Sirius. I don't deserve this."

"You deserve the world, Remus. That's why I did this. And also so I could teach you to dance." He moved them into a waltz position, one hand holding onto Remus' hand and the other on his hip. Remus copied the position. "I know I suck, but why teach me?" Sirius chuckled and began the movements with no music. "We may need it someday. You never know." He placed a kiss on his nose and spun him, making a candle knock over. But it didn't catch on fire. Sirius took note of the shocked face and chuckled. "The ones on the floor are fake, I know how clumsy you are."

The footage changed once more, with a Sirius sitting in front of the camera and adjusting it, his dark hair curtaining his face. "Love, what are you doing?" Remus's tired voice came from behind, and Sirius finished with the camera, backing up and sitting next to Remus on a light blue couch, grabbing his hand. Both were sitting in Christmas pajamas and a tree was in the background, the colorful lights standing out against the grey walls. It had to be the previous Christmas or the one before since both men looked almost the exact same.

"Sirius, it is eight-thirty in the morning. I want to go to sleep. So, please, tell me what I'm doing so I can pass out until we have dinner with Peter, James, Lily, and Harry. I'm quite sure Marlene and Dorcas are going to come. And there's no doubt that Lily invited Frank and Alice, who are going to bring Neville. So that's seven other adults and two children. I need energy for this bullshit."

Sirius chuckled, kissing Remus' hand quickly. "Yes, love. I know. But I wanted to film a video while I had the idea. And I won't even think of posting it till you're comfortable with being out." Sirius smiled at Remus, who rolled his eyes. "Fine. What this amazing idea you had to wake me up for."

Sirius let go of Remus' hand to turn around and pick up a notepad that was sitting on a table just behind the couch. "Terrible pick-up lines." He grinned, and Remus groaned, grabbing a throw pillow and pressing it over his face. "Do you really have to? On this Holy day?"

His voice was muffled by the pillow, which just made Sirius chuckled again.

"Yes. You know I'm an atheist. So come one then, love. It'll be fun."

Remus took the pillow off his face, grumbling, "Tell me why I married you again."

"Because I'm handsome and you love me." Sirius grinned, and Remus grumbled something the camera didn't pick up. But it was enough to turn Sirius a tad bit pink. "Well yes, that too. But anyways."

Remus smiled at his flustered husband and looked at the camera, eyebrow raised. "So are you just going t say random pick-up lines, or are they all Christmas themed?"

Sirius shrugged, running over the list. "Little of both. I just wanted to see your reaction to some of these, considering you don't get embarrassed easily."

"I probably will since one, it's you and I'm one hundred percent sure that at least three-quarters of those are going to be dirty, and two it's on camera so you will definitely be using this against me in the future."

"Nah. Only half of them are dirty. So, can I start asking them?"

"Fire away, love."

Sirius smiled and kissed Remus quickly, then pulled his finger down the line until he found one that made him smirk. Remus' own smiled dropped lightly, trying the read the list upside down before Sirius pulled it away quickly. "Tch. Nope."

Remus groaned again and Sirius smiled before reading one of the lines.

"Good thing I have my library card, cause I'm checking you out."

He added a wink to the end of the line, and Remus shook his head.

"I sure hope you do, considering we're married."

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly and huffed before reading the next.

"You stole my heart, so can I steal your last name?

ubnbnubnnu9n9ubn9ne9uvnvnfsvns9nsfubnfb

Now James was holding the camera, trying to set it up on an unseen object. Remus was behind him, shaking his head.

"Let me do that, James. I usually help Sirius so I know how to do it."

"Sure. Knock yourself out, Remmy boy."

Remus rolled his eyes at the nickname and moved in front of the camera, only taking a few more seconds to put it in place. He moved back and sat next to a huffing James.

"I did most of it."

"Sure you did, James."

He huffed again and leaned back on the couch, stretching out. The full extent of the room was open, and it was beautiful.

A large ornate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above the sleek leather couch the two sat on. A large cabinet with no doors behind them was full of framed photos of James and an older woman and man, smiling at the camera. A few had Sirius in them, arm slung over James shoulder amd smiling widely. More frames lined the walls of the large room, some paintings and some pictures of James and his friends.

"James, what are we doing?" Remus asked after a moment of the other doing nothing.

"My dear Remus, we are going to-"

James cut off abruptly, turning his hesd to look at something off screen.

"Did someone knock at the door?" Remus asked, and James nodded, getting up and walking out of frame. A small squek signaled the door opening, before James shouted.

"Sirius! Oh my god, what the fuck happened to you?!"

Remus jumped up and also ran off camera, coming back with James half dragging a bloody Sirius between them. They set him on the couch and he winced and cried out, his injures fully  exposed to the camera.

A large cut ran from the corner of his lip to under his eye, similar to one of Remus' s scars and still bleeding a little. His lip was busted and swollen, along with a black eye. He tried sitting up and cried out again, clutching his side in a way that suggested he broke a few of his ribs.

"Sirius, what happenened?" James repeated, and Remus held a hand out to stop him.

"Hold on, James."

He bent down, taking one of Sirius' hands into both of his own. The other was still clutching his waist.

"Sirius, I need you to tell me what happened, ok? Will you tell me?"

He let out a broken sob and leaned forward, trying to put his head on Remus' shoulder, instead yelling out once more and falling back on the couch, panting and wincing every few seconds.

"Shh, baby. Please tell me."

He lifted Sirius' hand to his mouth, kissing it gently out of the view of the camera.

"She found the letters."

It wasn't much, but Remus visibly paled when Sirius said it.

"What does he mean? Remus?" James was looking between the two, face caught in a worried expression. Remus turned to him, lip caught between his teeth.

"We wrote letters back and forth instead of texting. His mother found them."

James paled too, and walked closer to the couch.

"James, the camera. Get the camera. We'll have to show this tape to the court."

Remus stood up, placing a gentle kiss to Sirius' forehead and leaving the room while James walked quickly towards the screen, looking angry amd scared all at the same time.

It went back to just Sirius.

"I am so sorry, I did not know that taoe was in there. I apolgize if I have triggered something for any of you."

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of threats to make someone pay for a mistake they made, a teenage girl humiliating a schoolmate in front of her boyfriend and friends and the humiliated teen girl being scared of the girl who had made fun of her and being mad at one of that person's friends because he had stood her up.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @chrrysgirl, @hugyourlungs, @achillmango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @rynwritesreid, @strangermoonlove.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 8: Elle Greenaway

"Was Elle someone who usually kept her promises?" David asked after listening carefully to what Aaron had to say.

"Of course" the younger man confirmed "She once gave a girl from our school a black eye just because, in her opinion, she had been looking at me for too long".

"And she was mad at Emily because she had humiliated her that day, right?" Dave continued.

"Yes" Aaron replied "Anyone who went against her ended up paying for it".

And hearing that sentence, David made his decision.

He walked out of the room with Aaron and told him he could go back home if he wanted to, then asked Elle to follow him to the dining room.

"Emily ridiculed you in front of your then-boyfriend and all your friends at school that day, right?" was the first thing he said to her when they sat down at the table facing each other.

"Yes, she did, and she was right" Elle responded "At 16, the only things I thought about were my physical appearance and impressing boys".

"But then you changed, didn't you?" Dave then asked her.

"Yes. Radically" the woman confirmed.

"And why did you do that, Elle?" the writer questioned "To make up for what you had done?".

"No. When I was 20, discovering my vocation for teaching changed my life. My husband and I never became parents, but my students are like the children I never had. If I'm so different from who I was as a teenager, it is above all for and thanks to them" Elle explained with a smile on her face.

"You threatened Emily that day, though" David reminded her, not to persist in bringing up the past of a woman who had definitely changed and matured, but because he wanted to find out the whole truth about that story.

"Look, I was very stupid back then, I can't deny it, and I was also scared of Emily" Elle then told him, clearly a little annoyed by that time.

"She had humiliated you and you swore you would have made her pay, so in the end, you got your revenge" Dave added, feeling almost sure he had already solved that case.

"Yes, I was angry, but not with Emily" the woman clarified "I was mad at her friend Spencer because he hadn't come to our stupid meeting in the afternoon of October 30. We had to do a research for school, although we weren't in the same grade or class, but I ended up discovering something else".

So then Elle, just like Aaron before her, began to reveal a secret she had kept to herself for fourty years.

[kisskisskayla]

New Life (Greed x Reader)

CHAPTER 2 BABY!

ahahahha let’s get into it...

i’ll be tagging all of this fic on my blog as ”new life fic” hehe! enjoy and if u are reading this PUHLEASE write something about my babie... i luv him so much..

(Note: this gets a bit morbid at the end, so be warned if that’s not ur cup of tea! also i PROMISE u will get the greed fan service soon but it must first be sad... because.. exposition)

”What can i do for you, baby?”

As soon as these words escaped his mouth, your world slowed down. The rain still poured, it was still freezing, your body still was wasting away, but everything seemed right. Like this man was the key to your survival.

This man you were about to steal from.

Too late for second chances now.

“Hello?” The man asked, cocking his head to the side, growing more confused the longer you stood before him. Oh right. You were in the middle of something. “Uh..” You blanked. Shit, shit, shit! This wasn’t going well at all! “My.. sister,” you eventually stammered out. “It’s my sister! Have you seen her?”

Weird lie. You didn’t have a sister. Whatever. You continued to talk, “She’s about eight years old... brown hair.. I just.. I lost her in this storm..” You attempted to make yourself look as beat down and scared as possible, even mustering up a few tears that were quickly washed away in the storm. You looked up at your target, trying to gauge a reaction. He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight side to side, hands deep in his pockets, but still managed to give you a sympathetic grin. “Well.. That is something to worry about, isn’t it doll?” he chuckled, peering at you closer.

Your heart began to race, knowing that this interaction should’ve already been cut short.

But you had to wait. Had to find an in, a moment in which you could use your knife quickly, a moment where you could grab his wallet and run. Before you could stutter out your next line of dialogue, the man took a step towards you, raising his arm to put a hand on your chin, tilting your head towards him. You freeze, suddenly being pulled back down to Earth. His fingers against your face were warm, giving you a taste of a sensation you were so starved from. His touch was quick, something he did, you assume, to get your attention. And It worked. As you stared up at him, he spoke, voice deep and playful. “You look like a little puppy lost in the rain, darling. I’m not sure I can help you.” His sentiment made your starstruck expression falter. What was that supposed to mean? You paused, struggling to look for words- time was of the essence, and you couldn’t exactly wait around for him to give you his money. Mind going numb, you continued to stare..

Do you have a picture of her? Of your sister?”

His worried tone made your heart twinge a little with guilt. You did not have a picture. Obviously. The only thing you had in your pocket was.. your knife. Right! Your knife! You tried to look into the eyes of the man, but were unable to see past the small shades, dotted and fogged up in the rain. Frigid fingers wrapped around your short blade, still hidden in your pocket. This probably wasn’t a good man, you thought, trying to convince yourself, I really need the money, he looks like he doesn’t. But what if he did? No, no. Too late now. Have to act. Getting one last look at your victims face, you initiate.

“Yes, I have a picture...I just hope it isn’t ruined with the water..”

You look towards your hand in your pocket, and the man’s gaze follows. You slowly unfold your weapon, and a few seconds later, you strike.

Thrusting your hand upwards, you firmly held your blade and aimed for the mans forearm, which was resting on your shoulder. Before he had time to react, you sliced up, into the tendons on his wrist- nothing that would kill him- it just had to hurt. Cold metal met skin, leaving a trail of harsh crimson spitting from what you could only assume to be a vein. You lunged forward, ducking behind the mans arm, grasping at his back pocket until your hands found the rough leather of his wallet. You did it. You saved yourself, and now the only thing you had to do was escape from this man.

That was the tricky part.

You booked it. Feet pounding against slick cobblestone, wind scratching your face. You didn’t dare look at the man you had just attacked. “Woah little lady!” You heard from behind you. “Come on! I would hate to hurt a pretty face. Let’s chat!” A quick glance behind you showed you the man standing in the street, unafflicted by the wound on his wrist. He wasn’t chasing you, he didn’t even sound angry. You must have been extra lucky today.

As you made your way down the street, money in hand, the adrenaline began to wear off- little by little. You still ran, but your heart had begun to settle a bit, the lump in your throat decreasing. After your nerves went away, your body decided to remind you of some very obvious things. You are still weak. You are still hungry, and tired, and cold. So incredibly cold. Your clothes are soaking wet and it’s about fourty degrees outside. And you’re running. You don’t have energy to run.

You don’t have energy to run.

As if on cue, you felt your knee buckle, and you tripped. And you hit the ground hard, feeling a stone dully punch you in the temple. Pain shot through your head, hovering behind the eyes. You didn’t move. You laid in the empty street, feeling the grime and blood mix together on your face. Lungs on fire, body starved and bruised, and now some type of head injury. This was fine. This seemed like a proper end, to you anyways. After spending years struggling and fighting to get by, it made sense that you would end the same way-struggling and fighting.

Closing your eyes, you felt the rain slowly melt into your skin, the freezing air becoming warm and pleasant. Everything was warm, actually. All of the pain in your body lessened, and you felt yourself sinking into the stone you laid on. You began drifting to sleep, mind blank and content...

“Stupid girl.”

Your mind stirred, what was that? Who’s voice was that?

You heard other voices too, an ensemble of three, maybe four people buzzed around you. No, this was a dream, you thought. Soon enough the sound of their voices merged together into white noise, and you were back to drifting off...

“Hey! Hey! She’s dying, you dumbasses!”

Oh? You recognized that voice.. or you think you did, at least. As you became more lucid... you were cold again, the rain still beating on your face. You were very aware of the pain lingering over all of your body, and the sensation of blood trickling from your forehead. You were no longer on the ground, however, and you could feel your body being held up off of the ground. Your eyes began to flutter open, eyes darting around violently in an attempt to understand what had happened...

“Mr. Greed! She’s awake!” A high strung voice rang out before you could process what had happened. You directed your blurry vision towards the noise and saw...

“Shhhh Bido, don’t startle the poor girl.” The man from before said again, walking towards you. Your stomach dropped. The man began to speak to you, but his words were of no use. Blood loss and exhaustion again got the better of you, causing you to black out.

When you awoke, covered in bandages in a real bed, you didn’t understand. You didn’t want to understand.

You didn’t want to believe that the man you had viscously attacked was currently taking care of you. That he and his friends had found you on the street, bleeding from your head and suffering from hypothermia, and took you in. It was embarrassing, to you, to be taken pity on.

But you had to accept. Three months ago, you decided to make a new life for yourself. Plus, being protected by Greed The Avaricious couldn’t be all that bad. Or at least you hoped.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 13th, Sunday 13:32

oh no, guys!!

I was out all day and just got back home to realise that I didn’t set the time when to publish todays’ clip... it just sat there in my drafts... so could everyone reading just imagine to be teleported back to this very early afternoon?

I’m so so sorry!! 😰

__ __ __

Hey Jens,

I know this may be a bit out of the blue as I hadn’t contacted you for over two years. I hereby do not ask for forgivness if any shape or form. A lot had happened and for a while it was close to impossible to have contact outside of work. Obviously it doesn’t excuse my absense. I am pretty confident that I may even not have written you yet, wouldn’t it have been for Helena.

Your mother was also the person to give me this email-address, I hope you aren’t too cross with her. She meant well.

I am very positive you aren’t interested to read of anything that had happened to me since our last meeting in 2016. Already four years have passed. It doesn’t feel that long ago. But obviously you may feel different about that.

So where to begin? 

Helena wrote me a long text, detailing the main events of the last year and her diagnoses. I had to read it a couple of times for it to settle. It still feels surreal to have to accept her leaving earth that early. I am most sorry for you. I wish I could have been of more support from the very beginning. But now I have the chance to do something and I hope you will consider my offer.

She told me of Lies and that she no longer lives in Belgium, which leaves you at home with your mother and Lotte. I can barely imagine how very hard that Must be on you. I do hope you have enough people who can take care of you, when you put your energy towards your family.

There isn’t much I can do from my position here. But be assured that I already signed the documents to waive my choice of guardianship over Lotte. You mother was strictly clear that that was your preferred arrangement and I am in no position to interfere in your affairs at home. So they should be on their way and at yours rather soon, hopefully in time early next week. Just in case, I attached a pdf scan. Should you need anything else, please do not hestitate to ak.

I also hadn’t forgotten that you turned 18 and unfortunately I haden’t yet congratulated you. I would like to do that now, even if it may seem shallow. But I send you all my best wishes and do genuinly hope that you will find success and love along your way. I am proud that you have the strenght in you to get through such a difficult and exhausting time and I believe with all my heart that you will make it to the other side.

Regarding my mentioned offer:

I want you to be able to persue your goals in life. Surely you must have some dreams about the future you’d like to see come true. It isn’t much, but I am obviously sending money into your mothers, and now your, bank account, for Lotte and yourself since our separation. And if you would allow me to increase the amount by whatever the house or the corresponding insurances may cost, I’d be more than happy to do that. As well as money for university. A good education takes you far in life.

This is not the greatest help of course, I know this. And I hope that you’ll understand that I can’t just leave my work behind, but I am already areaging to go visit Helena in January. I have to see her before I nay no longer have a chance, and she as well asked me to.

If you, for some reason, want to meet me as well, it would make me quite happy to see you too. I understand though if that is out of question for you.

I hope to hear back from you, so we can discuss the reality of help I can provide and anything I may have forgotten to bring up. I didn’t wanted this to get too long.

You’ll find my mobile number in the document as well, but as I said, a signal is a rare occurance.

With kindest regards,

Hendrik

— 

Jens, who had been hunched over his laptop for the better part of the email, leaned back, resting his head against the wall behind them on the bed.

Reading the long message hadn’t helped to clear up any conflicting emotions he had felt since the notification had arrived a couple days ago. Jens had expected the worst and the best simultaneously, and what he actually had received left him uncertain about the right reaction to such a message. Was it anger or gratitude?

„So? What does it say? Is it bad news?“

No it wasn’t really, was it? If it wouldn’t have been for the sporadic contact with his father, and the suddenness of this mail, Jens perhaps would only have a more positive attitude towards it. However it wasn’t that simple unfortunately.

Jens hadn’t told Robbe about the content of the mail or why he hadn’t opened it yet. But when he had announced that it had been his father, Robbe hadn’t asked anything else. Instead he had draped an arm around his back, before putting his attention on his phone, promising not to look. Jens trusted his best friend to keep his word and had thus quickly opened the message. Before he had a chance to change his mind.

That didn’t meant that the boy snuggled to his side wasn’t curious.

„I don’t know. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’m glad to hear from him, but I am so pissed about the way he wrote it. For example: Already four years have passed. It doesn’t feel that long ago. But obviously you may feel different about it.“ Jens read out loud, ending on a heavy sigh. He probably could have just quoted everything but that would be bringing up topics that Jens wasn’t ready to share.

„Or this bullshit of three sentences: I also hadn’t forgotten that you turned 18 and unfortunately I haden’t yet congratulated you. I would like to do that now, even if it may seem shallow. But I send you all my best wishes and do genuinly hope that you will find success and love along your way.“ He continued, almost mockingly, huffing an unamused laugh when he reread parts of the mail. „Like, fuck him. What am I supposed to do with that?“

„Seriously? That’s why he wrote you?“

It was very nice to know that Robbe seemed a little pissed off by it as well. It definitely validated Jens‘s belief, that this was a shitty thing to write given their history.

„No.“ Jens sighed again, this time a little deflated. His eyes darted briefly towards his best friend, feeling rather timid as he contemplated how to formulate his next words.

„I needed a signed document from him for the thing that is stressing me out.“ As if he couldn’t be anymore vague. „And my mom was so kind to get into contact with him first. So he basically just let me know that he send it off and attatched a pdf as well. That’s something I guess.“

„I see.“

Robbe’s second arm sneaked around his stomach, thus wrapping him into a tight embrace, as he rested his head against Jens’s shoulder.

„I think I would have preferred him to just let me know about the document and leave out the whole other stuff.“ Jens replied, leaning his own head into of his best friend’s.

He felt Robbe nodding, while his fingers stroked his back gently in an attempt to comfort his best friend.

„What did Lucas think?“ He asked Jens, receiving a soft snort in return.

„Nothing yet of course. I opened this for the first time here with you, dumbass.“

„Right. Sorry, my bad!“ Robbe shrugged a faint pink on his cheeks, as he instantly realised the his mistake at the same time Jens answered him.

„I think I’m glad that he wrote me. At least I know that he supports me in some way and I‘m not simply indifferent to him. It would have been worse, had I needed to chase him down for weeks to get the documents.“ Jens quietly said and swiftly closed the laptop. He pushed it away from them. Jens would definitely talk to his mom and perhaps let Lucas read the mail later on his own.

Robbe sat silent next to him. 

„He offered to pay for stuff if I needed him to. Don’t ask me why. But it feels shitty. It is good to have, and I may take him up on it. But it is not what I really need.“ I’d rather have him around, back then and now, Jens finished his thought unspoken.

It was the truth something that felt hard to say out loud. He wasn’t unaware of the fact that he close to never spoke about his father. It wasn’t an important part of his life for years now. He wasn’t even sure what people thought about his father, his friends included. He had met them all way after he left. Did they assume he was dead? No one ever had directly asked Jens before. At least he couldn’t remember anyone had before. There were only a couple of pictures that excist in his home that showed him, and they were almost all a decade old.

“If you want my opinion despite only getting the tiniest details from you, I’d tell you to straight up take the money. My father is always a little stingy if I need more for a month. So if your father offers you something, say thank you and accept it. It is the very least he can do for you. Don’t feel bad or sorry about it, as he should do much more for you. Honestly.”

Jens sat up straighter at his best friends words, Robbe following suit as the unwrapped themselves from each other. It definitely sounded like a shitty thing to do, but then so was the offer. Perhaps Jens would just as Robbe had told him. Why not?

“And if you don’t want to spend it on yourself, use it for Lotte or take out your boyfriend or help your mom with the bills. Whatever.” Robbe added and then shuffled of the sofa, as his phone was ringing on the desk calling for his attention.

Jens watched him, not paying much attention to anything but his thoughts and feelings regarding his father. He was glad that he had come to his best friend who simply accepted Jens withholding most of the details and still helping out. He appreciated it so fucking much.

“Alright, we’ll be there in fourty minutes, I think... yea... sure... okay see you then!”

Robbe told the person on the phone, his best friend’s hand reaching for him to pull him rather clumsy off the bed. Jens laughed at the sorry attempt. Robbe just wasn’t strong enough. But he gave in the second the other boy glared at him.

“Come on. Mayo is already on his way and I’m gonna text Aaron. You can bring your laptop and everything, or you can come back here later to get it.”

“Nah, I have to pick up Lotte at seven from her best friend’s place.” Jens replied, getting up while he packed everything as fast as he could around an impatient Robbe, searching for his missing board. As if a whole fucking skateboard could just vanish?

Seriously how did Sander managed to endure this daily?

Jens must have said that last question out loud, because he was hit in the chest, luckily not by the found skateboard, but by one of Robbe’s loose scattered sneakers.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[lixiepeach]

Vampire Stray Kids Teaser

Summary: Fourty-seven years ago, Y/N’s life ended after a chance encounter at a nightclub with her now vampire sire Hyunjin. The arrogant ex-prince has hated her since that night, blaming her for everything and has made it his goal for the rest of eternity to make sure she knows it. 

Another chance encounter has her pining after a very human university student. She knows getting close to him will put his life at risk, but she can’t help but be drawn in by his sweet nature and adorable smile. What happens when her vengeful sire learns of her interest in the human boy? Can she save him or will Hyunjin ruin everything once again? 

Characters: Vampire!Chan, Vampire!Minho, Vampire!Changbin, Vampire!Hyunjin, Vampire!Jisung, Vampire!Felix, Human!Seungmin, Human!Jeongin, Vampire!Reader

Pairing: Starts Hyunjin x reader, but endgame is Jeongin x reader

Warnings: Blood (it’s vampires so...), violence, a little gore, pining, alcohol, lots of death, explicit sexual content, plenty of angst and some fluff, Hyunjin is a major asshole. 

A/N: So here’s the untitled vampire au that has been haunting me since Play With Fire came out and it’s finally started to become something. Here’s a bit that I wrote today. I’m not going to seriously work on it until after I finish Red Moon, so it probably won’t start to be posted until closer to October. I’m not going to make it as long as Red Moon has turned out to be either (of course I say that but who knows?) Yeah, let me know what you think and if you’re interested in reading more. Also trying another reader insert. Let me know if you like it, or if you prefer an OC. I’ll write either. 

1973

He’s like an angel. His body moves so graciously to the beat of the disco music booming through the speakers. His shirt is barely holding on, two buttons in the middle the only thing holding it together. Smooth expanses of porcelain skin are revealed with every movement. The shirt billows around his slim hips and long legs encased in simple black trousers. His black hair is shoulder length, held back partially by a simple tie in the back. He’s ethereal, completely lost in the moment as he dances. 

The bodies on the dance floor have left a clearing around him, most of them too intimidated to approach. Those bold enough have been ignored or downright shunned. He’s waiting for the one. The right one. 

You’ve been watching him for the past few weeks. He frequents this club on the weekends when it’s the most busy. You yourself don’t frequent it often, but this mysterious stranger has drawn you in. He comes early, never drinks, and disappears when the club is at its busiest. You’ve never been able to follow him; one second he’s there, the next he’s gone. You tug at the hem of your dress as his eyes scan over the crowd around the dance floor. You’re cursing yourself for wearing long sleeves as his eyes train on you. A beading sweat forms on the back of your neck, a smirk crossing his lips before he’s turning, eyes breaking contact. 

You continue to watch him move in ways you never thought humanly possible. He turns to look at you again over his shoulder, plump lips pulled back as he bites at his finger before spinning in a circle. You’ve never been much of a dancer, but perhaps tonight you were going to be. 

You down the rest of your drink before weaving through the crowds as they press closer to the dance floor, the beat of a new song starting. It’s not hard to find him, your body practically colliding with his, but he steadies you with hands on your hips. Something sparks beneath your skin at his touch, hands gripping his strong shoulders as he pulls you closer. He’s chosen you. Out of everyone in the packed club, you’re the one tonight.

His body moves, hands guiding yours as if he knows you’re inexperienced in this medium. His eyes are intense as they stare down at your face, your own eyes focused on his. His face is youthful, younger than you would have expected but you can feel he’s an old soul. There’s an age to him that you can’t find in his looks. 

He brings you closer, hips gently grinding against yours as he wraps you completely in his arms. You let your arms wrap around his neck, his mouth going to your ear. 

“You’ve been watching me.” He says, voice just as melodic as you had imagined. 

“Everyone watches you.” You say, pressing your face close to his neck so you can hear. He’s taller than you, even in your heeled boots he’s leaning down to reach you. 

He laughs at that, lips brushing against your skin. “But you especially. Found something you like?” 

You can’t help it, the alcohol starts to go to your head as you nod. He pulls away from you a bit so he can stare at you again, biting his lip. Desire is thrumming through your body to the beat of the music. You want him. By the way he’s looking at you, you know he wants you too. This angel that had hypnotized the entire club had chosen you. 

But you were soon to learn he was no angel. 

He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd of bodies. They seem to part for him, though no one gives you a parting glance. He leads you to the back of the club, exiting through the back door. The cold air outside the club chills your skin, the thin material of your dress suddenly not enough. Though it doesn’t matter, because he’s pressing you up against the wall of the building. Despite the warm club you had just left, his body is strangely cold as he presses it to yours, pinning you to the wall. 

His lips are just as soft as you pictured, sliding against yours as you kiss him. He wastes no time, hands lifting you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, sliding past it and right into your heat. He’s thick, stretching you as he presses inside. He’s far from your first, not even your first frolic behind the nightclub. But he is the first to make you feel as if you could cum instantly from the feeling of him inside you. 

His thrusts are as graceful as his dancing, lips on yours to muffle your moans as he fucks you in the alley. You wonder if he does this to all the people he disappears with. If you would ever see him again. 

He begins to get sloppy, chasing his high as he presses kisses across your jaw, working his way to your neck. “I’m sorry.” You think you hear him whisper moments before a sharp pain burns on your neck. 

You sober instantly, starting to panic as something tugs at your neck. You can feel something sliding down your skin. Blood. The slurping sounds are loud in your ears as you realize what’s happening. He’s drinking your blood. You try to fight him, but he’s insatiable, your vision beginning to blur as he sucks your very life away. 

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

Chan grips the back of the younger vampire’s neck, yanking him away from the poor girl he was draining. He tosses the vampire against the dumpster with a loud clang, not giving him time to recover before he’s grabbing the ex-prince, holding his body against the dumpster. 

Felix checks the girl slumped in a heap on the ground. Her pulse is weak, getting slower and slower. Blood is staining the front of her pink dress, flowing steadily from the wound on her neck. 

“You’ve done enough damage.” Chan says, squeezing his neck so hard he can feel the tendons straining against each other. “This is out of control. You’re done.” 

“Turn her.” Felix says, looking up at the two younger vampires. They were older in human age, but he was older in his vampire age. “That will be your punishment. She will be your responsibility.” 

Turning a human was a big choice. It was not something taken lightly. Newborn vampires were a big responsibility, much like newborn human children were. Only newborn humans weren’t impossibly strong, fast, bloodthirsty monsters. It wasn’t something a vampire could just do and then walk away. They could, but then their newborn would be a danger to humans and to vampire-kind. Usually they didn’t live long without someone to teach them. 

Chan forces Hyunjin over next to Felix, Felix biting open Hyunjin’s wrist before placing it between the girl’s lips. He knows this is a gamble, forcing Hyunjin to become a sire. But perhaps having a life to look after would teach him the delicacy of the human lives he had toyed with for the past few months. 

Or he would not change, and he had just doomed another poor soul to endure his wrath for eternity. 

[eddie-boii]

Never Let You Go (part 1/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change).

Pairings: Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

*

Richie was settling for a quiet night in. He’d been invited to a premiere of some horror movie but, after the shit he’d seen, he found them kind of bland. No amount of fancy editing and special effects could scare him when he’d faced the real thing. And besides, red carpets and chatting cordially with interviewers and smiling for cameras while dressed in an uncomfortable suit all required far more effort than he was willing to give. He was more than content with staying home in a ratty old t-shirt and boxer shorts, a can of beer in hand as he watched reruns of old nineties sitcoms. But his classy evening was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Bev?” said Rich after he’d hastily tugged on some pants and opened the door.

“Hi, Rich. Sorry to just turn up like this...” Beverly gave him a tight smile, her eyes glancing up only briefly before moving to focus on the floor, and Richie frowned because something was obviously up.

“You okay?”

“I-” she started but broke off, swallowing. “Um… can I come in?”

“Oh shit,” said Richie abruptly, realising they were still hovering in the doorway. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He ushered her inside towards the living room, then quickly removed some empty beer cans and piles of clean laundry he had yet to put away so she had space to sit down. He sat beside her on the couch and she faced him, her legs pulled up as she leaned into the soft backrest of the couch. “What’s up?”

Beverly swallowed. “Um, something happened between me and Ben…”

“Oh shit,” said Richie eloquently. He’d thought she and Ben would last forever; the guy doted on her completely and they were perfect together. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” She frowned then looked up at him finally. “Rich, do you remember when we were kids and we said if we were both single by fourty we’d marry each other?”

Richie blanched. He had not been expecting that. “Um…” he said, face bright red as he looked anywhere but at Beverly. “I mean… Well, yeah, but... I- I’d had my heart set on being married to Eddie’s mom by now and -” Shit. How do you tell your best friend you’re actually super gay and have been hiding it from her for years coz you’re a damn coward?

“Richie,” Beverly said softly. She was still looking at him tenderly and reached over to take his hand. “Rich, will you -”

Shit shit shit.

“- be my man of honour.”

Richie blinked. He gaped. Then Beverly pulled a ring out of her jacket pocket and slipped it onto her ring finger, wiggling the impressive diamond in front of Richie’s face.

“Ben proposed,” she said, her facade finally cracking to make way for a grin.

“You- you-” Richie stared at her and then leapt to his feet. “YOU ASSHOLE!” he exclaimed as Beverly burst into a fit of laughter, her whole body shaking and her hand clamped over her mouth in a meagre attempt to stifle the sound. “YOU FUCKER! YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT TO A GUY! I WAS MENTALLY PLANNING TO JUMP ON A PLANE TO BERMUDA AND LIVE OUT THE REST OF MY LIFE AS A HERMIT!”

Beverly had tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she gasped out finally. “I-” More laughter - “I couldn't resist. Your face…” She pointed at him before dissolving into more giggles. “Fuck, my cheeks are cramping.”

Richie slumped back down beside her and glared at her, which was a mighty feat as he was trying not to laugh too. “You are such a dick,” he said, then tugged her towards him in a tight hug. “Congratulations, you fucking asshole, of course I’ll be your man of honour. Jesus Christ.”

Beverly just buried her face in his shoulder until her laughter finally died down. It took quite a while and when she finally pulled back, smile apparently fixed permanently to her face, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Do I get to wear a beautiful flowing dress?” he asked her, framing his face in his hands and giving her his best girly grin.

“You can wear whatever you like, babe,” she told him, then she gave a pointed look at his current attire. “As long as it’s not that.”

“Rude,” said Richie, feigning offence. “I am a fashion icon. So do I get to come help you pick a dress? Write the wedding invites? Uh… I don’t know what else happens at weddings.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll have Stanley to help you,” she told him.

“I thought people only had the one man-slash-maid of honour?” said Richie.

“Fuck traditions,” shrugged Beverly. “And no offence, but I do not trust you with organising a wedding.”

“That’s fair,” said Richie who could barely organise his own life. “So when’s the special day?”

“January sometime,” Beverly replied. “We’ll have a little ceremony with just the Losers, then a bigger one with family and colleagues and everything.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling like she could already envision the day.

Richie couldn’t help but smile too. “Sounds perfect,” he said, honest and sincere for once.

Beverly pulled him into another hug then stood. “I’d better be off,” she said. “There’s so much shit to do, you have no idea. I’ll let you get back to your-” She glanced around at the six-pack of beers, the TV, and the general mess - “busy schedule,” she finished.

“Do I detect a hint of judgement?” Richie said, raising an eyebrow as he walked her to the door.

“None at all,” said Beverly, smiling innocently. “See you later, babe.”

“Farewell, honey-bun,” said Richie with a wink and Beverly rolled her eyes before making her exit.

Richie returned to his well-worn spot on the couch with a grin still plastered on his face. He hadn’t been to a wedding in years, and definitely not one for people he actually cared about. One where he’d be surrounded by the people he loved most in the world.

Halfway through another sitcom episode, he pulled out his phone and shot a text to Ben:

[8:57] Richie: Congratulations hot stuff how much did you fork out for that ring?

A reply arrived only a few minutes later full of heart and sparkle emojis that Ben was overly fond of using. 

[9:01] Handsome Haystack: I can’t believe she said yes!!!!! And ok it was a lot but still less than she’s worth

[9:02] Richie: Thanks gonna go vomit now brb

[9:02] Handsome Haystack: You’re just jealous

[9:04] Richie: Well how can I not be? It’s not my fault you’re so stinking hot now!! Bev better watch out

There were a good few splurges of keyboard smashes before another text came through: 

[9:09] Handsome Haystack: Oh Rich you know you've only gotta ask ;)

Richie snorted.

[9:10] Richie: Hi Bev you got back quick

[9:10] Handsome Haystack: Ben was waiting down the street :)

[9:12] Richie: Give him a smooch from me

Another round of keyboard smashes, then: 

[9:15] Handsome Haystack: So Bev says hi

[9:16] Richie: Did she give you that smooch?

[9:16] Handsome Haystack: She did

Richie could imagine the crimson blush spread across Ben’s face and grinned.

[9:18] Richie: Soooo who are you picking as best man? Shame I can’t do both

[9:19] Handsome Haystack: Eddie and Mike

[9:19] Handsome Haystack: We have other plans for Bill

[9:20] Handsome Haystack: And uhh just so you know

[9:20] Richie: What?

[9:23] Handsome Haystack: It’s a tradition for the maid of honour to dance with the best man

[9:23] Handsome Haystack: Man of honour in this case of course

Richie blanched. He’d have to dance with Eddie… Or Mike, of course, but… Well, if he had to choose...

[9:28] Richie: What happened to Bev saying fuck tradition??

[9:28] Handsome Haystack: She’s very insistent on this one

“That sneaky little-” Richie muttered under his breath, picking up his can of beer for strength.

[9:29] Handsome Haystack: And you’ll also be walking down the aisle together

This was almost to much for Richie’s system and he started choking on the beer he’d just taken a sip of.

[9:30] Richie: Do I have to???

[9:30] Handsome Haystack: For the bride :) 

Richie swore under his breath.

[9:34] Richie: Fine.

[9:34] Handsome Haystack: Love you! xoxo

Richie grunted and turned off his phone, then turned it back on again to send a begrudging ‘Love you too’. He went back to staring at the TV but didn’t take any of it in.

He’d have to dance. With Eddie.

Walk down the wedding aisle. With Eddie.

He hadn’t even let himself dream of such things.

He ran a hand down his face, his stubble rough on his palm, and groaned. Then he grabbed another beer and decided he’d deal with this in the morning after he’d drunk every can he had. * Next