#fucking love literature I have closets filled with books

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Why do I relate to heavy?

Simple

1: Big

2: Older Brother

3: mm big gun

[filmofhybe]

The perfect blend - YJW

part 3 of “IN EVERY MULTIVERSE”

In which..

can you ever imagine in this multiverse, you having the biggest fattest crush on your best friend - Yang jungwon, however knowing he already has a “girlfriend” hurts more than just a sting from a bee.

💌 PAIRING : yjw x reader

GENRE : friends to lovers , fluff

WARNING : angst , fluff , kissing , CHAPTER 2 NOT PROOF-READ!!

🗯️ FEATURING : huh yunjin - LE SSERAFIM

word count : 2,066

MASTERLIST to “IN EVERY MULTIVERSE”.

I strolled into the cozy book café, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloping me. Jungwon, my best friend and crush, was already there, immersed in a book. With a grin, he looked up and waved me over, marking the beginning of another one of our countless hangouts. “Y/n! Quick I’m on the next book already!” He cheered causing the owner to shush him up. I giggles as I quickly walked towards him ans sit beside him

As we spent hours laughing, discussing literature, and losing ourselves in the melodies of shared playlists, the warm atmosphere making his features and his personality stand out. I found my heart entwining with his in the multiverse we were building together within those walls. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken emotions, creating a bond that transcended the pages of the novels surrounding us. That was 2 weeks ago.

“Yah Jungwon why aren’t you joining my hang outs anymore?” I said with a annoyed tone, yet I was joking around. “Is nothing y/n just school okay? I’ll hangout with you soon.” And before I could reply, he hang out. I sighed, disappointedly walking towards the closet and picking out a outfit a planned out for other next reunion. I guess I’ll just wear it today to return to our sanctuary, hoping to catch him at our usual spot.

To my dismay, as I pushed open the café door, I witnessed Jungwon passionately kissing a girl in the corner we had claimed as ours. The world crumbled beneath my feet as I grappled with the realization that our connection might have existed only in my dreams. Heartache and confusion overwhelmed me. Confusion spread across my face. “Y/nnie~ your here!” My hearing was blurred in that heartbreaking moment, I felt like a character in a tragic novel, betrayed by the person I thought knew me best. The emotions were so vivid that it became unbearable. Just as the pain peaked, I snapped out of the dream, gasping for air. Tears streaming down my face.

“Y/n wait please let me explai-” pushing the café door, rain mixed with my salty tears. The café that was once filled with love and warmth, was now just a feeling of coldness and bittersweet memories. Feeling the world absolutely crumbling beneath my feet-

“Fuck omg…” i jumped, snapping out of my crazy multiverse that felt a bit too real. Realizing I’m in my boyfriend - jungwon’s arm calmed me down. “Hey baby you alright? A bad dream again?” The word “again” felt like a knife to my heart. How many times have that multiverse must torture my thoughts. As we lay there, I couldn't shake off the echoes of the dream. The emotions lingered, haunting me like shadows from an alternate reality. It made me appreciate the tangible moments with Jungwon even more, cherishing the genuine connection we had built together. His hands softly massage my hair as he tries to calm me down by whispering sweet nothings. “Is okay if you don’t want to tell me but I wish I could beat those demons and monster in your dreams.” I don’t think you want to beat yourself up… “maybe a little date to your café would work?” He asked. Not sure would I really want to go after the so called dream. I just nodded as we held each others hands, walking towards the café that’s filled with bad memories in our next universe.

The book café remained our haven, but now with an added layer of vulnerability. We continued to share laughter and music, our bond deepening with each passing day. The dream served as a reminder of the fragility of emotions, urging me to embrace the reality of our connection.

I know he knows something was off the moment I step inside the café. I didn’t bother to read our normal series nor even listen to the music we always dance to. I just sat there thinking, I know he would not do such a thing in this life. But it scares me. And for what?

jungwon’s multiverse POV

I couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that settled in my chest every time he canceled plans with y/n. The temptation to see the mysterious girl from school, whose name I had heard whispered in hushed tones, proved to be too strong. Me and y/n’s café, tucked away in a quiet corner, became our secret haven.

I grappled with the conflict between my feelings for y/n and the magnetic pull I felt toward the enigmatic girl from school. The thrill of secret meetings with her overshadowed his sense of responsibility. Despite the guilt gnawing at him,I found himself canceling hangouts with y/n more often, weaving a web of lies to conceal his true motives.

“jungwon should we hang out again today?”

“I’m sorry I can’t y/n..”

“You never hang out with me anymore.”

“I will next time ok?”

“Fine..”

One day, I met up with the girl, at the café, sharing a stolen moment in our café, we both leaning in, her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her as our lips connect like a perfect puzzle. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The café owner's excited voice echoed through the air, calling out a familiar name. "Y/N!" The realization hit me like a tidal wave as I turned his head towards the entrance, only to find Y/N standing there, eyes filled with tears.

In the most beautiful outfit I had ever seen her wear, she looked like a vision. Panic set in as I tried to explain, don’t know how to explain to her, why he kept canceling their hang outs, why he decided to take another person to their secret hang out spot. "No, Y/N, it's not what you think it is." But the words hung in the air, too late to catch her as she ran out, leaving me helpless in my remorse.

Desperation fueled my actions as I attempted to reach her, but before my fingertips could brush against her, I felt the world breaking down below my feet.

The bustling café faded away, and Jungwon found himself in y/n’s arms, realizing that this vivid scenario was just a cruel illusion. Relief washed over him, and he embraced the solitude, grateful that y/n was in his this reality.

The weight of the dream lingered, prompting Jungwon to reassess his priorities. The guilt he felt was a stark reminder of the potential consequences of his actions. Determined to make amends, he resolved to be honest with Y/N and prioritize their relationship.

“Hey you alright? You slept for like 45 minutes while reading the book.” She chuckled.. the girl that makes him cold Just by his laugh.”

“Yeah I’m fine baby. I’m sorry I fell asleep…” he sighed rubbing his eyes

“No is okay, maybe we should go home now.” Grabbing his hand, and pulling him out of the store. Jungwon felt lucky to be able to have his arms around his beautiful girlfriend in this universe. He made a conscious effort to be present for y/n. In this reality, y/n and Jungwon's bond strengthened, proving that sometimes, even in the face of temptation and mistakes, true love can prevail. Jungwon, grateful for the second chance, cherished every moment with her. ensuring that their story unfolded authentically, free from the shadows of secrecy that once threatened to tear them apart.

; AUTHORS NOTE : omg part 3?!? We are almost coming to the end of jungwon’s series!! (2 more to go!! I’ll be posting twice a week soon🤭)

series taglist : @enhaz1 @dubuii @in-somnias-world @ultimatestayandminoronce @yenqa @euncsace @hoondiors @yannew @mrchweeee @ariadores @oldjws @frukkoneeeeg @dimplewonie @seobstarr @asteria-wood (white = i cant tag)

[holistic-alcoholic]

This is a fill for today's WI Server Pride Prompt Party prompt, In the Closet.

Rating: T Pairing: winteriron Tags: established relationship, dimension travel, softness & love

The morning was the best part of the day, Tony thought and then immediately laughed at himself. If anyone had told him that only five years ago, he’d laugh at their faces. Then he would stop and laugh some more, for good measure. His hate for mornings was more prominent in the past, in those first few years after following Bucky into the closet and finding out that Narnia wasn’t as good of a deal as the children's book implied. Not that it was similar in any kind to Narnia, this world, apart from the entry point. He used to grumble about it, Tony did, during the first days. Bucky heard him once and laughed and then got all defensive about his literature tastes when it spurred into a whole argument about the book. That was when Tony found out Bucky was a nerd, hoarding books in his free time and having opinions, strong ones. That was their first normal conversation, the first time they tried to talk to each other, not fearing any minefields to come out. That was the first time they discovered both that they were just people, under all the history and pain and cruel jokes of fate, people who could agree, who could get on.

How time flew. Now, Tony thought of it with fondness, remembered their first steps with joy. Now, Tony was content, lying in bed, meeting the new morning with joy. It was a long time since their mornings were filled with battles for survival, wild beasts going after their house. Since then, the house turned to home, grew big, spurred new limbs into being, a workshop and a studio, and that new room they built to let off some steam after an argument and still hadn’t figured out its purpose. Now, Tony’s new suits worked their magic — most likely literally, to his displeasure, for the alien technology of this world, this pocket dimension was way too unstable and just plain weird to be called tech, not magic. They were a work of art, those suits, however, and they could work without him perfectly, at least in the matter of new pests. Bucky kept arguing that it was less the suits and more his pet that helped to keep the intruders out, but Tony was determined to prove him wrong. No cat, even the one with tentacles and its own TARDIS inside of it, could be that helpful. He loved Alpine, of course. But she was too lazy for it.

“Morning,” came a sound from behind him, and Tony couldn’t keep a still sleepy smile from his face. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You, mostly,” how marvelous it was, even after all those years, to be able to just say so. “How lucky we are.”

He heard his husband’s quiet laugh.

“We are, aren’t we? And you were so negative in the beginning. Those dinosaurs will kill us. I wish I was dead instead of trapped here with you.”

There was laughter in Bucky’s tone, and yet Tony couldn’t but worry at his words. He turned to him and looked in his eyes.

“Never been more wrong about anything in my life. You know that, right?”

The tenderness in Bucky’s stare was encompassing.

“Of course I do.”

They were the only humans in this world for seven years. Fucking hell — years! That came with a lot of lessons. Don’t provoke an alien dinosaur to fight you, that was one.

Trust your companion. You and he work well together. He understands more of you than you can admit. He’s a great man, so kind, so brave, so resilient. You love him.

He loves you too.

It was a great morning to have, as it was true for mornings past, together, happy in their self-made life. Yet, that was the morning quite unlike the others.

“Come on,” Tony cajoled, “just come with me, here—”

“Tony?”

“Bucky?!”

It was were their friends, their world. The closet’s doors closed behind their backs. It was their world — exactly as they left it, all those years ago.

“Right,” Tony said faintly, holding to Bucky’s hand, as Rhodey stared, mouth open, at his clothes and hair (made sense, when they last saw each other, it was black). “I’m feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

[insufferablelust]

Revelation (Spencer x Reader)

imagine thats Older!Spencer :)

Warnings : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, heavy daddy kink, belting, shameless smut, a bit of size kink i suppose, pet names, degradastion by name calling, punishment, squirting, gagging, just a dirty dirty daddy Spencer smut, subspace and huge  fluff! and reader is his goddess. :)

Masterlist Here.

All you could feel was exhaustion, exhaustion that lingered from the very tip of your skin to the rattling of your bones. The soft musk of Spencer’s scent filled the room so nicely, bringing you to an edge of calmness, you are home— with your love, your baby, your daddy.

You smiled as you tug your scarf down , placing it gently above the couch before you call out to the very man that owns your body and soul, “Spence?” the exhaustion was prominent in your voice, even though tried to brush it off.

“In here, kitten! wait a sec.” He yelled, jogging down from the kitchen to where you were sitting at the couch, He smiled tenderly with the kitchen towel perched on his shoulder, he looked so domestic, so much of the boyfriend-ness of him yet the way he holds himself is daddy, your daddy.

He immediately gathered you up on his arm, plopping down next to you and bring you to straddle his waist, “So pretty, so so pretty, i miss you, kitten.” He whispered, pressing a delicate kiss on your lips as his hand rest on your throat- the very side of your pulse.

You giggled a little, nipping his lower lip, pulling back only to whisper a tiny “i miss you..” kiss “daddy.” Heaven is what you are, he thinks. Because here he is, having the knowledge of everything, absolutely everything this word has to possibly offer yet.. nothing, nothing feel as complete as you. as having you perched on his lap, being good.. such a good little girl.

“Look at me.” His voice changed a little, it was deeper, huskier that it caused the sweet nectar flowing down south from the heat of your belly. God, your eyes snapped to his.. your socks covered feet tucked under his knees as he gently, just gently press his palm against your pulse, tightening his grasp— not enough to choke you yet enough to draw a pleasure filled gasp emitting from your sinful lips. “daddy—“

“Shush, been a good girl, haven’t you?” He cooed gently, his other hand slide itself around your waist to gently rub your back with calming warmth. “Uh huh.. The test went well today..” You murmured, eyes still focusing to his as you latched onto his strong arms.

You are 10 years his junior, you practically met when he was holding a lecture on the academy where you trained to be an agent.. an FBI agent just like him. The first gaze you laid upon each other, ignited the fire like no other, the desire and lust and.. gentle itching feeling of blossoming crush embedded deep inside both of your insides, practically screaming at yourselves to just.. get to know each other.

Getting to know each other, you did. It started off as a nervous filled dates, though he was a proper gentleman, bringing you on classic dates to libraries where you would borrow books you both haven’t read or something you just want to read and then reading it together on the window sill. Your first kiss was over a cup of coffee perched on the sill with Anna Karenina on your lap and Russian Literature on his, the kiss was magnificent that you were sure that if soulmates were real, he was— is your soulmate.

The first time you were intimate with each other was a rather cliche experience, cliche and romantic. After the 5th official date where he asked you to be his, you both went to his place which funnily was only a block away from where your apartment building sits. Rounds and rounds, you both savored the moment like you were made for each other; Ares & Aphrodite, Apollo & Calliope, Orpheus & Eurydice. The first one was gentle, desire filled love making against the bed, where he touched your skin like he touched your soul, where he kissed your lips like he kissed your fluttering heart, where he thrusts into you like a mad man, your mad man.

The next round varies, from the one where you were both on the edge of the bed when you accidentally slipped out the word “daddy.” which only made him thrust harder with an impossibly loud groans of “Call me that again—fuck!”. There was one where he choked you, fucking the soul out of you that you both ended up on the floor— not even bothering to stop by then. After the 4th round, you were both spent.. spent and absolutely basked in heavenly reality— reality that will always engulf you both.. Soulmates.

“You’ll nail it, i know you will, daddy knows best doesn’t he?” He chuckled, but his gaze darken, his grip tighten, and his head.. his head tilted in a mocking way, not mocking your ability of course but rather.. ‘Daddy Knows Best, Doesn’the?’ You knew then he found out, found your dirty dirty little secret that you tried to keep hidden (or at least for the most part)

You see, a week ago, Spencer left for a case— a pretty short one though you were desperate every time you separated from each other. You missed him so much, missed spencer but also.. you miss your daddy, your rock, your dominant. You missed his touch, missed his cock, missed his kisses, fuck you missed him so much that you were willing to break one of his most important rule. ‘No touching yourself without daddy’s sole permission, and no cumming without his permission too.’

You knew you could’ve asked, could’ve begged for him to make you cum over the phone but you couldn’t.. one part because you knew he was busy, and you had to wait at least until midnight to get him to call you.. but the other part of you, the nasty brat he calls it, was eager to be punished, to be settled back on its place. You craved the way his palm.. those genius palm slapped your ass and cunt raw until they sting so painfully that you knew you wouldnt be able to sit down tomorrow. You craved the way you were on the brink of consciousness as his hand choke your neck like he owns you.. and yeah.. he truly owns you.

So you did the most obvious, you touched yourself, you came without his permission, and you used the new vibrators he specifically asked you to not use it until he comes back. 3 rules broken and you were happy.. giddy about it. But know that he knew, you felt.. almost guilty, lust still covered you, the severe thrill still clouds you but you feel guilty, guilty that you have disappointed your daddy.

“Daddy, I—“

“Shh, Good girls gets to speak, Brats like you gets nothing.” He hissed, demeanor changed 180 as his grip tighten as much as he could and his palm goes from giving you calmness to slap your ass cheeks like you were his punching bag. You mewled and whined, before he hoist you up his arm, to move both of you to the bedroom.

“Gonna show you just what nasty desperate kittens like you get, gonna ruin you like a rag doll.” Thrown you into the bed like a rag doll is exactly what he did, you bounced a little before propping your body with your elbows to watch him sauntered over to the closer. “Was going to make you a nice dinner pet, romantic and shit, but you just had to be a slut.. for daddy huh?” He said from the closet, making you bit your lip in guilt.

“Please daddy, i’m sorry!”

“Told you to stay fucking quiet.” He rasped, pulling a few things from the closet, then making his way back to where you were laid, clothes already off. “But, i was just—“ He cuts you off by pinching your nipples hard as he placed a handcuff, a belt, and a gag— a ring gag to be exact.

“Since you can’t keep your filthy whore mouth shut, i’m going to place this—“ He grabbed the gag, carefully scurrying it around your head, “There you go, looking like a cute slutty brat that you are.” He pats your head, before securing the handcuffs around your wrist up above your head.

“Aw my baby drooling already? You’re practically begging to get your face fucked, princess.” He cooed, god he’s so different in private like this, he knows every one of your weak spots, every word that makes your heart leaps and your pussy clenched, every damn move and touches that have you begging for more, yearning for more, and being so needy over it. A man like Spencer, thrived in the feeling of having control over something for extensive amount of time, he doesn’t mind not being the typical alpha male on the streets, but here in his sheets every night— he’s the predator, and you my darling, is his frail prey.

The only thing you could let out is a pathetic mewl as he slapped the skin of your gorgeous breasts, his gaze hungry as he trailed them down your body, your gorgeous curves, it almost as if he’s worshipping every damn mark and inch of skin— silently thanking whoever made you possible for how your body just as it is.

“beautiful, could be eating you out right now, but you decided to be bad.” He tsk’d, causing you to whimper and buck your hips which he slapped your thigh for, “No buckin’ up on daddy. Be good.”

Be good,

Be good,

Be good, Y/N.

Suddenly, suddenly your eyes droops just a little, you were still so still you held in your breath, your cheeks warmth as you feel yourself entering the very very fuzzy space where the only thing that exists is Y/N and Daddy. Be good, she has to be good for him because she has disappointed him again for being a— your thought were cut short as he cup your cheek, noticing how your body language changes, your daddy always knows after all.

“Shh, you’re good princess. hey are you with me? want me to stop? take the gag off, little one?” He cooed, as you momentarily shake your head with such eager, gesturing for him that no.. no you don’t want him to stop, you did a bad naughty thing and you need to be punished. Spencer has spent all his time studying your behavior, your every little detail— expression, body language, every damn thing to know just what it is you want, you need, you.. crave.

“Alright but if you feel any discomfort you’ll tap daddy with your legs okay? you can even kick him, daddy won’t mind..” He chuckled, which earned a strangled laugh from you— “Oh go and speak now angel, love watching you all messy and drooly.” He laughed, before flipping you so that you were laid face down with your ass up as your hips being propped up by a pillow.

Crack!

So sudden , it was so sudden, the loud impact sound of his belt against your skin echoed on the very walls of your room. Your head thrown back as your saliva steadily running down your chin, your eyes breaming with tears, and you let out a very very adorable strangled cries. “Fuck, thats it, take it, take your punishment and maybe, just maybe daddy’ll be a little lenient towards you tonight.”

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

You didn’t count, you lost track of how many times the harsh leather has hit your skin, now burning with tremendous guilt and burning lustful desire. Your tears soaked the pillow case like a damn river, yet he didn’t relent not until he felt like you’ve learned your lesson.

and honestly.. you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

-

“Pretty girl, so so good for daddy shh, come here.” He wrapped you up in his arms as he remove the gag and handcuffs altogether, you were a panting drooly mess as he presses tiny loving kisses on your forehead— body completely engulfing you in his warmth. “D-daddy.. am i.. am i forgiven?” You hiccups, looking up at him to seek for comfort.. for his forgiveness, his his his.

“Oh sweetheart, i wasn’t mad at you, was just putting you back on your place. You’re so so good for me.” he cooed, gently easing you up his lap, trailing his fingers from your hair down to your arms, your tummy, and heading further south. “I love you daddy... thank you for correcting me.”

Spencer could drown, drown inside your pretty eyes, just get lost in it forever, until he suffocates and die a happy man. He would be the prisoner in your version of heaven no doubt, he was never a religious man, but if there’s a higher power— it’s you, a damn goddess— his true revelation.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Let me take care of you okay?” He whispered, positioning you properly, your back against his chest, your head adorably tucked under his chin, and your thighs spread with his knees below yours. You were a giggling mess, hazy in your space but so so drunk on pleasure, “Please please please!” You whimpered greedily, trying to grind down on his bare cock.

“Patience is virtue, angel. Let’s get you nice and ready hm? know you’re too tight to take all of me.” He whispered, which resulted in you yelling— cutting him off a little way too loudly.

“But i can! i can take it, daddy! please let me show you!” God you didn’t know what you did to him, what your damn gorgeous eyes did to his psyche, to his cock. Begging like that, making him wants to ruin you, making him wants to release the very very hungry beast inside of him— ruin ruin ruin you oh so beautifully.

“Alright, you asked for it. Don’t go blabbing about being too full, you brat.” He smacked your thigh before positioning his hard, thick hard long cock on your entrance, slowly pushing his impossible length up your tummy. “Oh! oh oh! daddy!” You cried, cried and mewled like a kitten.

His length was not even halfway in and yet you were filled so fully that your head spins. “Take it, just a lil more, doing so good.” He rasps, feeling your cunt impossibly tight around his cock, warm and snug. “Please daddy...” You whimpered, not even know what the pleading was for but you pleads for him— with him.

When he finally got all his length stuffed deep inside your weepy cunt, his mouth nip and bite at the skin of your neck, trying to hold back the grunts as he moves slowly, thrusting up to your tight cunt.

“Fuck so damn tight, kitten.” You shuddered as the tip of his cock hit your spot perfectly, he was in so deep that all the sound that dripped from your lip was ‘ah! ah ah! d-‘

“Take it, take it, take it.” Was all he chanted as he settled you so you seated up right on his lap, before bouncing you up and down his length. Spencer was deeper this way, way way deep inside your walls, massaging every pulsing need you’ve held for awhile.

“So big! so— oh! please daddy faster!” You moaned wantonly, bouncing yourself up and down his cock, gasping as he places his palm on your tummy where the imprint his cock nestled deep inside you was so prominent that he cried out loud. “Feel it huh? feel it deep inside your tummy?”

“Yes yes yes oh fuck! S-Spencer!” You knew just how much he loves it when you moaned his name, so even in your fuzzy space, you moaned it, because you love him and he was practically fucking the living soul outta you. “I love you— fuck me i love you, gonna cum hm?” He whispered, moving his hand down, down down down then pressing his thumb on your clit to rub it.

“Daddy no! no i-i’ll make a mess!” Of course he knows this, knows that the burn on your ass constantly slapping against his thigh turns you on like nothing else, knows that his cock was filling you up so good that you could practically feel him inside your throat, knows that the rubbing of his thumb will have you squirting on his cock in no time.

“But daddy— shit, daddy wants you to make a mess, go on little one.. make a big mess.” And so you did, you did hard— squirting on his cock like river was streaming down your cunt, your walls pulses around his cock like a vibrator and the grip was like vice, sending him to absolute bliss himself— cumming inside you shortly after as you shake and writhe above him.

“I love you Y/N fuck— fuck i love you so fucking much.” He fucked you through your and his orgasm like a mad man, burying his face on your neck as his cum was buried inside your cunt. You were panting so hard, body still shaking as he leave trail of kisses on the column of your throat before tilting your head to kiss your lips softly.

“D-Daddy?” You meekly whispered, lips trembling as you spoke after he hummed, “can you stay inside? want to keep you inside please..”

And who’s Spencer Reid to deny his goddess’s wishes

-

xx,d

[yikesharringrove]

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

-

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense  to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it. 

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

-

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

-

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

-

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

-

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

-

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

-

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

-

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

[thisbrokenmask]

Matching Pair

pairing: female reader x Kim Namjoon

genre: fluff, very light angst

word count: 2,266

warnings: brief mentions of struggling to conceive, hella fluff

summary: you return from a day of shopping with a surprise for your husband.

a/n: so, this fic is unbeta’d and was written on my phone, but I was too excited to write it after getting some very wonderful news today - I found out I’m going to become an auntie for the very first time next summer! I’m beyond excited, and it ended up giving me inspiration for how to finally use the ‘Fuzzy Boots’ prompt on my @btsholidaybingo​ card!

“Joonie?” you call out for your husband as you close the front door of your home, already feeling the heat of the house warming you from the growing winter chill outside. Gently putting the shopping bags containing your few new purchases down to the side, you take off your shoes and your coat and put them in the closet by the front door. You don’t hear an answering call from Namjoon, but you do find his house keys still in the little cubby in the closet when you hang yours back up, so you know he’s home.  

Heart fluttering and excitement rolling in your tummy, you grab the handles of your shopping bags and head upstairs, your bare feet sinking into the carpet of the stairs with quiet relief. Even though you decided against heels today, the several hours you spent searching for the perfect items has still left them aching and you once again pat yourself on the back for choosing a thick pile when you decorated the house.

You bite your bottom lip to try and hold back your grin as you head to your bedroom to deposit all but one of your shopping bags, although you can’t help the slight skip in your walk as you once again go over what’s about to happen. Leaving your discarded purchases at the foot of the bed to sort out later, you clutch the most important one tightly as you seek out your spouse. 

Surprisingly, he’s not in his home studio, the small soundproof room normally your first port of call on the rare days Namjoon doesn’t head into the BigHit buildings to work. No, instead you find him in the little snug-come-library at the end of the hall, a slight dip in his brow from how concentrated he is on the words in front of him.

The library was a room you both insisted on having when you found this house, as you both needed somewhere to store your vast collections of books you had amassed over your lives. The custom floor-to-ceiling shelving had been fitted perfectly for the room, with a few open spaces left for artwork to break up the visual of hundreds of book spines. 

While your respective hoards of literature had combined, there were still traces of your individual hobbies nestled among them. Several small houseplants contributed pockets of green and, as Namjoon pointed out, a sort of poetic contradiction to the many books you owned; the living among the dead, as it were. He tended to them daily, whereas your offerings required much less attention. 

In your many years of travelling before and after meeting Namjoon, you’d developed the habit of collecting one small trinket from each country or city you visited. Whether they represented particular landmarks, native animals or cultural figures, you always brought home something to remember each place by, and now many of those trinkets filled the spaces left behind by oddly-shaped books or accompanied a bonsai as it grew between the shelves. 

In the centre of the room, on top of the plush mauve rug you’d fallen in love with at first sight, sat two armchairs. They didn’t match each other, but matched you and your husband instead. You’d gotten the idea from UP!, knowing when you’d first seen Carl and Ellie’s individual chairs that you wanted to do that with your future partner. And the library became the perfect place for these perfectly mismatched chairs, another way to show how the two of you had come together in this room that housed so many of your joint passions. 

Your chair, currently empty, was the plushest wingback chair you’d ever seen; a beautiful, royal blue velvet chair that made you feel like you were in a house that could be found in a Jane Austen novel. Your husband’s chair, in which he was now sat, was burnt orange in colour, square and simple in shape, with arms curled over to remove any harsh lines. You’d hated it, initially, but the more you’d seen it on the shop floor and then saw your husband lean back into its cushions, the more you decided that it suited him, and that was what mattered. Despite its simplicity, it was a bit too big for you to sit in comfortably, although you would often climb into it and burrow under several blankets when he was away.  

You’d now grown accustomed to the barrage of colours and styles in your little library, a fondness for the apparent chaos that still shocked newcomers, making you giggle every time. 

As you so often find yourself doing, you take a second to admire Namjoon in his studious reading pose: one leg resting across the knee of the other, his right elbow propped up on the armchair and his hand cradling his chin, index finger extended across his lips in contemplation. His left hand cradles his book seemingly effortlessly, his simple gold wedding band glinting in the warm orange of the afternoon winter sun that pours in through the window across the room. It’s still the only golden piece of jewellery he wears, and it still makes your heart bloom every time you catch sight of it. 

In the split second you’ve taken in his appearance, he’s become aware of your presence. Only his eyes move at first, flicking up from the page to the door to see who’s walked in. When he sees you standing in the doorway, however, he immediately slips his bookmark into place and puts the volume down on the little table between the chairs. The ease and immediacy with which he gives you his whole attention never fails to make you feel a little giddy. 

“Hey,” Namjoon’s expression melts into his warmest smile, all traces of his previous concentration vanished at the sight of his wife. His eyes briefly drop to the bag in your hand before returning to you. “Have fun shopping?”

You nod as he extends his hand towards you, slipping your palm into his and letting him gently pull you close. He sits you in his lap, one arm curled around the back of your waist and the other gently resting across your thighs, his hand melding to match the curve of your flesh. The warmth of his palm is noticeable even through your jeans, rippling throughout your body like a breeze kissing the surface of a lake. 

“Is that for me?” he nods towards the bag by his feet, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple. 

“Nope,” you smile, then pause. “Well, I guess it kinda is. Wanna see?”

If Namjoon is confused, he doesn’t show it. He loves the way you think, loves how you can see something completely different from him when you both look at the same art pieces on your gallery trips, loves how you can find even the loosest connections between two ideas in a way he’d never thought of. He doesn’t always understand you at first, but he loves that about you, so he waits patiently for you to explain. 

You lift the bag into your lap, the hand across your thighs moving to secure it in place while you open it. You turn it away from him as you pull out the contents, but he’s not even trying to peep inside; his eyes are focused on you, on the little ways your expression changes when you get thoughtful, or excited, or anxious, and right now you’re a bit of all three. 

“Ta-dah!” you singsong proudly, presenting him with a pair of fuzzy, light brown slipper boots. You try not to giggle as his expression falters slightly, although he quickly covers up his obvious confusion with bemused intrigue, gaze jumping between you and the boots as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on. 

“These… are for me?” he can tell just by looking at them that the boots are way too small for him, they’re definitely your size, and he’s struggling to figure out how they could be ‘kinda’ for him. 

“No, these ones are mine, silly!” you laugh, gently bopping the tip of his nose with your finger. The relieved sigh that falls past his lips only keeps your laughter rolling and he loves the sound, cheeks dumpling as he grins up at you. 

“Of course,” he agrees easily, smirking down at the boots as you gently run your fingers through the fluffy material, then cocks his eyebrow. “So how am I involved in this?” he pauses, then tilts his head to one side. “You’re not going to wear them to bed, are you? I know I said your feet are cold but I actually don’t mind it so much anymore-”

“These ones are mine,” you say, cutting him off, holding up your boots for emphasis before twisting in his lap to put them on the floor. His hand on your waist reflexively holds you tighter to keep you from toppling. 

When you then look at him with a smile he can only describe as mischievous, he knows he’s fucked: he’s a sucker for your playfulness, willingly walking into even your silliest pranks just to see your face light up and hear the melody of your laughter when you celebrate your victory.

His mind whirs through every option he can think of that could somehow relate those fluffy little boots to himself. Maybe you’ve bought him new slippers too, but like your mismatched chairs they’ll be different styles, perfectly suiting each of you in a way that makes them work together. Maybe you’ve actually bought him matching ones and he can’t decide what will be worse: having to wear them to please you or refuse to wear them to please himself. He feels the smallest flicker of heat in his cheeks when he considers fluffy handcuffs, but he dismisses that though when he remembers how your gaze darkens whenever you get out the pairs you already own rather than brightens, like it has done right now. 

He’s at a loss, but you don’t make him wait much longer before you grant him an explanation. 

“They didn’t have matching daddy boots, unfortunately, but-” he doesn’t have time to register the term when you pull out the remaining items in the bag with a flourish. “They did have these matching baby boots, and I just couldn’t resist!”

He stares down at the little pair of fuzzy boots, the same light brown colour as yours. They’re barely bigger than your palm as they sit side by side and he doesn’t know how something so small can knock all of the air from his body. 

He can’t speak, can’t swallow, almost can’t breathe. He can only stare. 

You watch as Namjoon’s features drop and give him a few moments to process the sight in front of him. You’re sure your lip is about to bleed with how hard you’re biting into it, desperate to cry and cheer and celebrate with him but wanting to give him his processing time. 

When he doesn’t say anything after a longer time than you were expecting, you begin to worry he’s upset rather than shocked. When he finally speaks, though, his tone is so level you genuinely think he’s angry. 

“Y/n,” he says, gaze lifting to meet your eyes and locking onto them. You feel his body grow tense beneath you, the grip on your waist tightening and releasing as he battles with the emotions building in his chest. “Who are these for?” His throat bobs with a dry swallow and you feel your stomach drop a little bit, suddenly realising how this may have come across to him. 

You and Namjoon got married nearly two years ago now, and you’ve been trying for a baby for just over a year. During that time, Namjoon has found more than one or two bags of baby clothes tucked away in your side of the closet, onesies and booties in varying designs and colours despite the fact that none of your attempts had been successful. His heart had broken for you every time, knowing how desperate you were to become a mother, but, despite his own deep-seated desire to be a father, he’d insisted you return the items each time and forbade you from bringing home anymore baby items that weren’t gifts for expecting friends or relatives. It was painful for him, too, to keep seeing the negative pregnancy tests in the bathroom trash, but he knew that it would only hurt more if you kept the clothes with no baby to fill them. 

It had been months since you’d last even looked at the baby aisles in any stores, but today was the day things changed. 

“They’re for us,” you told him gently, the words barely above a whisper yet filling the space between you. You see the tears begin to well in his eyes at the same time his grip on you tightens one last time. He stares up at you, eyes wide and watery and full of hope, and you let the widest grin loose on your lips. 

Leaning forward to touch your forehead to his, both yours and Namjoon’s eyes fall closed. Shuddering breaths push at the air between you, your hand pressing to his chest to feel the way his heartbeat gallops under your palm. Your own tears start to glide over the apples of your cheeks as you finally let the weight of your news overwhelm you, knowing that you’re both finally going to see your dreams come to life. 

“They’re for our baby.”

If you would like to read any of my other works, please follow me and head on over to my masterlist ♡

[vxlkyrie]

through my lens

pairing: spencer reid x reader

genre: fluff (god so much fluff), friends to lovers!au

warning: mentions of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.8k

summary: spencer comes up with the best birthday gift a girl could ask for – along with the best confession

a/n: hey y’all, it’s been a hot minute. i apologize for going m.i.a. for a bit and only reblogging fics and gifsets. i’ve been trying to give myself a little break from writing after finishing my classes for the semester, and then i found myself having writer’s block. but now i’ve found the motivation to write again! i’ve gotten into criminal minds during this quarantine, and became whipped for reid. so why not start writing for him? hopefully i can write more for him. and with that said, i hope you guys enjoy this fluff-filled oneshot!

everyone in the bau had their hobbies. spencer loves to read, penelope knits, hotch golfs on weekends – just to name a few. 

when you weren’t creating profiles and catching unsubs, you were roaming around d.c. taking photos of literally everything. a rose bush, your lunch at the cafe down the street from your apartment, the beautiful cotton candy sunset. you were seen always taking a picture, whether it was with a dslr, a polaroid, or simply your phone. you also took pictures of the bau team whenever you all decide to hang out. 

a night at the club? pictures of emily, jj, and penelope drunk off their asses while grinding on each other. 

dinner after successfully closing a case? pictures of derek and spencer having a mini food fight and hotch trying to stop them. 

christmas sleepover at rossi’s mansion? pictures of rossi cooking and the ladies making cookies. 

jj’s wedding? pictures of the blushing bride and groom and everyone slow dancing with each other (until derek pulled your camera out of your hand and forced you to dance with everyone). 

let’s just say you have a wall filled with polaroids of your second family.

photography has been a passion of yours for the longest time. although, when you first started in the bau, you felt like a burden you stated taking pictures of the team in their happiest moments. but over the years, everyone assured you that it was fine and even encouraged you to continue, which made your heart flutter. 

but what made your heart flutter even more is when a certain doctor asks you for tips on how to get into photography.

“hey y/n!” a male voice greeted you while you were working on paperwork. you snapped your head up to see spencer giving you a small smile as he leaned on your desk.

you became close with the doctor shortly after you joined the unit. probably because you two were around the same age, but also probably because of the similar interests you two had. 

he would come over to your apartment frequently for movie nights and whenever he just wanted to unwind after a case and didn’t feel like going back to his place. 

the first time he slept over, you had to apologize for the lack of literature books on your shelves that were filled with scrapbooks instead. he told you it was no problem and found himself getting lost in one of your scrapbooks.

“no way! is that y/n in high school?” he practically squealed.

“what?!” your eyes widened as you ran towards spencer and attempted to get the embarrassing scrapbook out of his hand, only for him to lift it high into the air and out of your reach.

“why didn’t you tell me you wore glasses? you looked so cute!” he laughed as he looked up at the scrapbook that he held above his head.

“i looked horrible! give it back!” you whined.

“only if you can reach it.” he smirked.

“fuck you. you just had to be 6′1.” you pouted as the doctor continued to go through the rest of your scrapbooks (he especially enjoyed going through the scrapbook that was filled with pictures of the team).

and even though you complained the entire time he went through your collection, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as your feelings for spencer grew.

“what’s up, doc?” you beamed back.

“nothing much. i just wanted to ask you something.” he said as he fumbled with his hands.

“yeah, what is it?” you asked politely.

“i-i want to learn more about photography, and i was hoping you could help me?” he answered softly as a tint of pink spread across his cheeks

god help me, he’s so cute.

“yeah of course!” you chuckled. spencer’s eyes lit up with joy as he smiled wider. “what do you need help with?”

“well, the basics, and what kind of camera to use. although, i’ve heard digital cameras have been getting more expensive these days. maybe it’s because more people are getting into photography. i’ve seen a lot of websites that garcia showed me where people are starting photography businesses and i- i’m rambling again, aren’t i?” spencer scratched the back of his neck. 

you weren’t one to cut spencer off while he’s talking. mostly because he looked so attractive while doing it, and it still baffles you how that’s possible.

“it’s fine spence,” you softly smile at him, which caused his heart to speed up a little. “and honestly, using your phone is a great start into learning basic photography.”

“really?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“yeah, give me your phone,” you asked, holding out your hand. he pulled it out and handed it to you. “i know you’re like a technophobe, but this little guy is pretty useful, especially when it comes to photography.” you explained as you opened the camera app, showing him the different features on it. “now here’s a grid. ever heard of rule of thirds?”

spencer shooked his head, which surprised you.

“oh really? well basically...” you started to speak.

spencer started zoning out. he already knew what the rule was, but he just wanted an excuse to stare at you.

the resident genius has been in love with you ever since you joined the unit. and his feelings grew even more after finding out you both have a love for halloween and science fiction. but of course, he never acted on it. the poor boy was already shy enough, and after being rejected several times, he especially doesn’t want to ruin his friendship with you.

oh y/n, if only you knew...

“so overall, it’s a great way to line up your photos,” you finished explaining, turning your head to see spencer spacing out. “you okay spencer?” you waved a hand over his face.

“w-what? oh yeah, i’m fine. rule of thirds is my best friend when taking pictures. got it.” he blinked, making you chuckle.

“hey pretty boy, we’re being summoned by garcia.” a deep voice said as a hand slapped over spencer’s shoulder.

“hi derek!” you smiled.

“hey sugar,” he winked. “come on reid, let’s go.” derek turned to spencer. spencer nodded at the older man and started to walk.

“thanks again y/n!” he yelled over his shoulder.

“of course! if you need anything, just let me know!” you yelled back as you continued working on your paperwork.

“anything?” derek whispered, teasing spencer as they made their way to penelope’s office.

“stop. she was just teaching me some stuff about photography.”

“you are such a sucker for her. just tell her you like her already. we all know you both are in love with each other.” derek rolled his eyes.

“she’s not in love with me.”

“you have an iq of 187 and for what? you don’t have to be a genius to know that she feels the same way.” derek said as he opened the door.

-

“ah my lovelies are here!” penelope said as she hugged derek and spencer.

“what’s up baby girl?” the formal asked.

“i’ve already told emily, jj, hotch, and rossi this, but i am planning a surprise birthday party for y/n at rossi’s place!” she clapped joyfully.

“isn’t her birthday like a month away?” spencer raised an eyebrow.

“i don’t even think she remembers that her birthday’s coming up soon.” derek added.

“which makes this even easier,” penelope smiled. “the week of her birthday, we will be going over to rossi’s house after work and we will help decorate. the night of the party, spencer, you will be driving her to rossi’s. just say that we’re all meeting up to go to a club or something.” she quickly said.

“i guess that’s possible.” the younger boy slowly nodded.

“are you sure she isn’t gonna be suspicious that reid’s willing to go to a club?” derek asked.

“hey!”

“he’s a genius, he’ll come up with some excuse,” penelope said. “okay great. let’s go team! now get out please.”

spencer slowly walked down the hall that lead back to the bullpen.

what am i gonna get her this year? i already got her the whole star wars saga collection. this gift has to be more sentimental. 

he bit his lip in deep thought.

then suddenly, a light bulb flickered on above his head.

that’s it!

-

a month passes by quickly when you're working on cases mostly every day. 

there were a few times where you would have the day off or at least the night off after a long day at work. you spent those times with the bau, whether it was having a night in with the girls, checking out the costume stores with spencer (who cares if it’s nowhere near october?), or even a spontaneous night out at the karaoke bar.

the rest of the team have managed to sneak around during the week of your birthday, gathering party decorations and gifts, making sure everything is set up correctly before the big day.

spencer worked very hard on his gift for you, adding the finishing touches as he stored it in a closet that was filled with the rest of the team’s gifts.

set up for y/n’s birthday party – check.

and in a blink of an eye, it was your birthday and the night of party. the team was flying back from a case that took several days, and you want nothing more than to knock out on your bed.

“the night is still young! let’s all go out!” emily exclaimed as you all gathered your belongings in the bullpen. derek nodded his head in agreement, catching on to emily’s little scheme.

“hell yeah, i’m in!” jj responded. “how about you, y/n?”

“i don’t know guys, i’m pretty tired.” you yawned.

“come on y/n, you have to come with us.” emily pouted.

“what’s happening?” penelope walked in.

“we’re gonna hit the clubs, you in?”

“definitely. spence, you coming?” penelope looked at him as if she had telepathically sent him a message. spencer widened his eyes.

“u-uh, yeah. i’m in.” he gave a small smile.

“look y/n, even reid’s coming! you love clubbing with us. it’s gonna be a great time!” jj said as she held your arms. you sighed.

“fine. i’ll meet you guys in like two hours, okay?”

the ladies cheered in victory.

“perfect! let’s pregame at rossi’s and then we’ll all go together.” emily said.

“great! spencer, do you mind driving me to my apartment?” you said as you turned towards him. he shook his head in response and you both headed towards the parking lot.

get y/n to come over to rossi’s – check.

-

after you got ready, spencer drove to rossi’s mansion as you sang to throwbacks.

he changed into a simple black dress shirt and jeans (and of course, his converse) while you wore a black off-the-shoulder mini dress and heels. your makeup was flawless as well as your curled hair.

spencer couldn’t help but think you looked beautiful in this moment, and can’t wait for the surprise he and the team had in store for you.

soon, you two were parked in rossi’s huge driveway.

“she’s here!” spencer texted penelope as soon as he put the car in park. he ran over to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

“what a gentleman! thank you, kind sir.” you smiled and reach out for spencer’s hand as he helped you out of your seat. you two walked to the front door to see rossi standing with a huge grin on his face.

“hey rossi!” you greeted while hugging him. he grabbed your hand and opened the door and slowly let you in, with spencer trailing not too far behind. “where is everyone?” you asked as he led you to the dark living room.

“surprise!” many voices shouted. your eyes widened as the lights turned on, only to see your closest friends and everyone from the bau and their families smiling at you. even the kids were there.

there were balloons that floated onto the ceiling. foil curtains that filled up rossi’s wall (he wasn’t a big fan of it, but he was willing to hang it up because it was all for you). tables filled with drinks, food, and gifts. and don’t forget the banner that hung across the threshold leading to the backyard that read ‘happy birthday y/n!’

you felt yourself tearing up.

“oh my god!” you patted around your eye area. “i love you all, but goddamnit you almost made me ruin my mascara!” you yelled jokingly, earning laughs from everyone (even hotch).

“happy birthday!” rossi said as he hugged you and kissed your cheeks. everyone gathered around you to hug you, take pictures with you, and say their happy birthday’s.

“happy birthday, sugar.” derek hugged you.

“i honestly forgot that it was today.” you laughed as he joined you.

even spencer gave you a bear hug and a kiss on the forehead, which made your face heat up.

“happy birthday y/n.” he smiled at you.

you were in euphoria as the party went on. you were dancing with your best friends and the bau ladies (and derek) as music blasted throughout the backyard. everyone was occupied, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves, even spencer, who was having a beer while conversing with hotch.

“so when are you gonna tell y/n you like her?” he asked spencer who was looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. spencer turned his head towards his boss.

“soon.” he smiled, sounding very determined.

“as much as i love seeing you guys dance your asses off, it’s time for the birthday girl to blow out her candles.” rossi announced.

everyone gathered around the table as you walked towards the table, seeing a beautifully decorated cake with lit candles placed in front of you. they all sang happy birthday (with hotch recording everything), making you smile from ear to ear while trying not to tear up again. soon, you blew out your candles, followed by cheers. rossi helped cut the cake and distributed it to everyone.

“as soon as everyone gets their slice, please go to the living room so y/n can open her gifts!” he shouted. everyone obeyed and started to walked back inside. spencer’s eyes widened.

shit. 

“you okay, kid?” derek asked, approaching spencer.

“uh, yeah?” he answered, clearing his throat as an attempt to try to hide his panicked expression.

“what’s got you nervous?”

“i-i didn’t know she was gonna open her gifts in front of everyone.” spencer practically whispered.

“why? what’d you get her?” derek smirked.

“i guess you’ll see.” spencer sighed.

-

everyone sat in the living room, facing you as you opened your gifts. every time you opened one, your heart melts even more.

when you opened rossi’s gift, you thought you were gonna pass out.

“rossi, i cannot take this!” you exclaimed as you held a box that contained a new camera. “this must’ve costed you a fortune!” you tried to give rossi the box, but he simply shook his head.

“you’re like a daughter to me, y/n. of course i had to spoil my child!” he said as everyone laughed around him.

“i can assure you buying that camera certainly did not put a dent in his bank account.” emily quipped. you thanked rossi with a hug and continued to open more gifts in your seat between spencer and emily.

you were curious when you lifted a slightly heavy bag from hotch. you gasped as soon as you looked inside to see a brand new laptop sitting inside.

“hotch, you shouldn’t have!”

“i know you recently broke your laptop, so i figured why not save you the trouble of getting one. you also deserve it after being such a great addition to the team.” he said, giving you a small smile as you hugged him.

emily bought you a ton of polaroid film and sd cards, as well as a bottle of wine – the key to a girl’s heart.

“these are exactly what i needed, thank you babe.” you kissed her cheek.

jj and will bought you a vinyl player along with a few vinyls from your favorite artists. they also added a few drawings of you that henry made that had ‘auntie y/n’ written on all of them.

“i am definitely putting these on my fridge.” you said as you lightly ruffled the little guy’s hair.

derek got you a pair of headphones (from the same brand as his) so you didn’t have to borrow his during the plane ride home.

“now we can both listen to our own music with our own headphones.” he teased, hugging you as you chuckled.

penelope’s gift had you screaming. you opened the box and moved the tissue paper to see a whole lingerie set laid out. spencer’s eyes widened as derek whistled, while hotch and rossi where trying not to laugh their asses off. jj immediately placed her hands over henry’s eyes.

“how did you get my size right?!”

“i have my ways.” she winked at you.

you had one more gift to open – spencer’s gift.

“you don’t have to open mine.” spencer whispered to you. you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“why not? i opened everyone’s.”

“it’s not as good as everyone else’s.”

“spence, it doesn’t matter how expensive a gift is. you could literally give me a fake plant and i will love it until the day that i die.” you smiled at him, causing his face to slightly heat up.

“well, prepare to be disappointed because i definitely did not get you a fake plant.” he said. you scoffed.

“come on spence, how bad could it be?” you said as you pulled out an object from the gift bag. you curiously looked at it.

is it a book?

“what is it?” you asked spencer.

“well, o-open it.” spencer shyly said.

you turn the cover to see a collage of pictures. it was a small scrapbook. you examined the pictures only to realize they were picture of you. you started blushing as you flipped through the pages and recalled where several of the pictures have been taken. you didn’t even realize spencer was taking pictures of you half of the time.

-

you were having a sleepover with the girls, drinking and crying over captain america. you heard a knock on the door.

“must be the pizza guy, i’ll get it!” you stood up. you opened the door to see spencer standing there.

“hey y/n! ready to watch the new season of doctor who?” he clenched his messenger bag in excitement as he entered your apartment, shocked to see his coworkers sitting on the couch while the tv played.

“that was tonight? oh spencer, i’m so sorry. i completely forgot.” you said, feeling guilty.

“oh, that’s fine. we can always watch doctor who another time.” he reassured.

“how about you join us spencer?” penelope chirped in.

“i don’t want to intrude on your sleepover.” spencer shook his hands in front of him.

“yeah, come join us! you’re already here, and i think you left some of your pajamas somewhere.” you raised your eyebrows at him with a pleading smile on your face.

how could he resist when you’re looking at him like that?

“fine.” he gave in as the girls cheered.

as soon as he knew it, he was listening in on the gossip as the girls did each other’s nails. you laughed as you smeared a green substance on your face.

“what’s that on your face y/n?” spencer asked, earning a few giggles from emily and jj.

“it’s a facial, spence. it’s good for your skin. you want to try it?” you asked as you held out the container towards him. he nodded. “you want me to put it on for you?” he nodded again.

spencer tried his hardest not to blush while your fingers brushed against his face. he could smell the faint scent of mint from the facial along with the lavender from your shampoo.

“okay, and we’re done. wait for half an hour and then wash it off.” you said as you both took a seat on your couch.

once you started paying attention to the movie, spencer stole glances in your direction, watching you react to the movie. he couldn’t help but pull out his phone and snapped a picture of you (thank god his phone was on silent).

he smiled to himself one more time before putting his focus back onto the movie.

-

“spencer, what are we doing here? it’s july!” you said as you two entered the costume shop.

“it’s never too early to plan your halloween costume, y/n.” he laughed as you looked at the masks that hung from the wall. he busied himself, browsing through different costumes.

should i be frankenstein? maybe i should go for steampunk this year?

“check this out spence!” your muffled voice caught his attention. he looked to see you dancing around while wearing one of the masks. 

spencer laughed at you while you continued to dance in the middle of the aisle. he took out his phone and took a photo of you, not caring that your arms turned out blurry while you were flailing your arms around.

“that was fun,” you took off the masks. “anyways, what kind of costume are you going for this year?” you asked as your ran your fingers through your hair, trying to fix it.

spencer was too busy looking at you.

“spencer?” you said with confusion. “spence?”

he slightly shook his head.

fuck, she caught me staring.

“what? oh, i don’t know yet. how about you?” he asked back.

“hmmm, i’m not sure either. i might just play it safe and be a devil or something.” you said as you tried on headbands that had plastic horns glued onto them. you looked at the section next to the devil costumes and saw a bunch of angel costumes. you took one of the halos and placed it on spencer’s head, practically jumping to get it on him. “maybe you should be an angel this year.”

“you think so? why?” he asked, suddenly feeling shy.

“well, maybe cuz you are one?” you grinned.

spencer’s heart raced for hours afterwards.

-

“happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you! happy birthday dear emily! happy birthday to you!” the whole team sang as they raised their glasses to the girl of the hour. you couldn’t help but take pictures of everyone as they downed their drinks and hugged emily.

after the team found out it was the brunette’s birthday, you all collectively decided to spend the rest of the evening renting out a room at the karaoke bar to celebrate.

“thank you guys! i fucking love all of you!” emily yelled. you could tell she was tipsy. “now someone put something on, i want to get drunk and sing until my vocal chords explode!”

“well, actually, your vocal chords-” spencer started.

“shh, not right now spence. someone give me a microphone.” emily bit back. you patted your hand on spencer’s back.

after a few rounds of singing from everyone, you decided to do a number with the rest of the girls. you were in the zone, belting out notes you never thought you could do. but with a little bit of liquid courage, you channeled your inner whitney houston as you all sang ‘i wanna dance with somebody.’

hotch was recording (as always) as rossi and derek cheered you all on.

“let’s go baby girl!”

spencer was clapping along, watching you have the time of your life. he had the biggest smile on his face as he took pictures of you singing. he knew that he had it bad for you once you started dancing. but when he didn’t see coming was when you placed your hand on his and pulled him up to his feet.

“dance with me spencer!” you giggled as you whipped your head side to side. you definitely had too much to drink.

“come on pretty boy!” derek hollered. spencer started to pick up the rhythm and moved with you and the girls. the rest of the guys soon joined in and started dancing.

at times like this, spencer is grateful that he chose not to stay in.

-

as you flipped through the rest of the pages, you felt a few tears started to form in your eyes. you skimmed through the rest of the pictures. 

some of them were pictures of you sleeping. on the jet, on the couch in your pajamas during a movie marathon, on rossi’s bed in one of the guest rooms after having one too many glasses of wine.

some of them had spencer in it. once you taught him what selfies were, he took one with you every time the team flew out of state, or even if you two were just getting coffee before work.

there were some where you weren’t even paying attention and spencer was closer to the camera and made it look like he was squeezing your small head.

and there were even a few where you had your hand close to the camera. they were pictures of you when spencer would catch you off-guard. they weren’t the best pictures, but it felt right for him to print them out.

“spence, what are you doing?” you asked as you tried to push his phone away from your face.

“i’m just taking a picture of you!” he giggled.

“why? i look ugly!” you whined.

“no you don’t!” he blurted out as you playfully shoved his phone towards him as he continued taking pictures of you.

“sometimes, i really do hate you.” you joked, ignoring the fact that he said he doesn’t think you’re ugly.

you laughed at the pictures as your heart picked up its pace. aww’s were coming from everyone, making spencer blush an even deeper pink. you got to last page of the scrapbook. instead of seeing a page full of pictures, you saw a familiar handwriting that filled the page.

is this a letter?

“what does it say?” one of your friends asked.

you looked at spencer for permission to read it out loud. he hesitantly nodded. by the looks of it, everyone already knew why he made you a scrapbook, might as well go all the way.

you took a deep breath and started reading.

for the part-time photographer, full-time badass profiler:

dear y/n,

you have been a light in everyone’s life, especially mine. you brought happiness to a team during their darkest times, and you have always been there for me during mine. 

to the girl who is always seen taking pictures of everyone around her, you deserve to be photographed. 

through your lenses, i am one of the many people that fill up your scrapbooks and walls, but through my lens, you are the most beautiful person my camera has ever captured (and even then, these pictures don’t do you justice).

you are the kindest, brightest, and most breathtaking person i’ve ever met, and i am so lucky to have fallen in love with you.

happy birthday!

love, spencer.

you didn’t even notice the small pool of tears that sat over the letter. thank god the pages were protected. even penelope, emily, and jj were crying.

“oh, spencer.” you sighed as you pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. he immediately hugged you back, placing his face in the crook of your neck. you pulled away to look at him.

“did you like it?” he whispered as he wiped away the stray tears on your face.

you smiled at him and leaned towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. he smiled as he kissed you back. loud cheers and applauds can be heard from around the room, but the only things you can hear are yours and spencer’s beating hearts.

“my man!” derek yelled. everyone pulled out their phones to capture this sweet moment.

you both pulled away from each other, not being able to wipe the stupid smiles off your faces.

“i’m guessing you liked it.” spencer quipped, making you laugh.

“i love it. and i love you too.” you grinned. 

spencer pulled you in for another kiss, until you hear several clicks. you turned to see everyone with their phones pointed at you two. you hid your face in his neck in embarrassment, spencer laughing as he held you.

“this is definitely going in the scrapbook.” he chuckled.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Without You (Keanu x Reader)

Summary: Part 4 of Always the quiet ones series. Keanu is gone and you have to deal with his absence and fixing your brandnew apartment on your own. Part 1 - Always the quiet ones | Part 2 - The Proposal | Part 3 - Dark Paradise

Author’s notes: Finally a new part of this series. I’m still in love with it, I promise. Feedback is always appreciated. I always want to know what you folks think!

Wordcount: 7115

Warnings: alcohol consumption; smut (masturbation; use of toys; dirty talk and squirting)

You woke up with soft lips pressing wet kisses all over the exposed skin of your shoulder, coarse beard tickling you, and making you smile against the goose feather pillow beneath your head.

Soft rays of sunshine warmed your body, trying to pierce through your closed eyelids but you refused to give in. You were cozy and comfortable, the only thing missing was the solid body next to you but you had a feeling that if you put a bit of effort, you could maybe convince Keanu to return to bed and sleep in a little longer.

“Come on, sweetheart. Time to get up. I know you’re awake.” The sharp slap on your ass made you jolt and yelp. Keanu’s deep and throaty chuckle making you glare at him. “I did try a nice way first.”

He pressed his lips to your pout for a quick kiss before he got up from the bed, revealing his attire of dark trousers and white button-down, not formal enough for meetings at Arch but not casual enough for a stroll in the city. Your gaze moved past him and you caught sight of his suitcase resting against the wall next to the empty closet.

You had forgotten Keanu would be leaving today. Or maybe you were in denial about the fact because this past week had been one of the best of your life and you didn’t want it to end. You had spent all your free time with Keanu, mostly in bed, talking and fucking and just getting to know one another a little better.

At first glance, Keanu had appeared to you as smooth and charming, completely in control of everything but as you spent more time together, you began to realize that, yes he was all that, as well as a genius, his interests varying from technology – as expected considering his company – to motorcycles, art, literature, cinema, and music. However, you were pleasantly surprised to realize that, once Keanu let that carefully constructed public image fade away, he was a complete, lovable dork.

It was in the way his eyes burned brighter with excitement when he was talking about the latest book he was reading or the wild hand gestures that accompanied. His awkward little laugh whenever he was unable to operate something simple like a coffee machine, or the outraged tone of his voice whenever you made him watch a movie or a show he didn’t like and Keanu was left to complain to you and the screen at the absurdity of the characters’ actions.

You were beginning to realize that the real Keanu was quite different from what he let out to the world and you were thrilled and touched that he was beginning to trust you enough to let you see this side of him.

You only feared that this was making it even easier for you to fall for him and you had to keep reminding yourself that this was mostly business and casual for him, so it should be the same to you. Maybe it was for the best that Keanu was leaving again, give you room to shield your heart instead of getting caught up in his spell.

“What time’s your flight?” You asked, stretching and yawning. Letting his gaze drink in your naked body.

You were starting to feel much more comfortable being completely bare whenever you were together especially because you never knew when Keanu might pounce you and ruin a perfectly good pair of underwear.

“In four hours,” he replied and you smirked, crawling closer to the edge of the bed, your face hovering inches away from his crotch as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“So we could stay in bed a little longer?”

“We could,” Keanu smirked down at you. “If someone didn’t have class.”He pulled away from you, walking over to the small sitting room of the master suite and you groaned in disappointment, getting up and putting on a shirt so you could follow him.

“I can skip it,” you said, humming appreciatively as the smell of coffee reached your nose. Keanu had ordered room service and food was already set on the dining table.

“You could, but you’re not going to.” There was a warning in his eyes and even if you knew he was just thinking about the best for you, you couldn’t help but pout. You wanted to spend a little longer with him. “Besides, I can’t stay. Apparently, I’m needed at Arch.”

Keanu rolled his eyes and pulled the chair for you, waiting until you were seated to push it in place and start serving you. It was kind of his thing, taking care of you like this even if you insisted he didn’t have to. Keanu just liked to do it and after a couple of days, you stopped arguing and just let him get his way, as he always did.

“Well, the branch is just starting, makes sense they rely a little more on you,” you reasoned and Keanu snorted as he poured your coffee: two sugars, just a splash of milk like you liked it, setting on your left.

“I pay these people a lot of money, so they don’t need to rely on me.” Keanu settled on his chair across from you once he had filled your plate, sipping on his coffee. “What I need is someone I can trust to oversee things for me, be my representative.”

“Maybe you should stay a little longer, find someone to fill that role,” you said, trying for a nonchalant tone but from the little smirk Keanu flashed over the rim of his cup, it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I really wished I could, but I have a lecture at MIT this afternoon, a conference in London in two days, and several meetings back in LA for the next three weeks.”

You knew that Keanu was a busy man, of course. Being CEO of one of the leading technology companies in the US took time and effort, still, you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment in your heart. This week, you had him mostly to yourself so you were going to miss not having him at all.

“I guess we’re going to have to learn to do this long-distance,” you said, managing a smile that didn’t really reach your eyes.

“That reminds me…” Keanu said, getting up and for the first time you noticed the dark paper bags on the couch. “I got you a few things.”

With a frown, you got up too and stood next to him as he unveiled the items. You gasped when you realized he just got you the most expensive laptop from his company, as well as an ARCHpad, one of those tablets everyone in your class seemed to have.

“Keanu, I can’t take this…” you said, even if your fingers were running over the smooth dark surface of the laptop, the sunken lines of the word ARCH in bright red making the device slick and modern.

“You can and you will,” he took a seat next to you on the couch, one arm around your shoulders as you explored the illuminated keys of the laptop. “I’ve seen that piece of junk you call a laptop and I’m surprised you can get anything done with a thing that old. Besides, having an ARCHbook will make it easier for you to sync up your account with your ARCHpad and phone.”

“I don’t have an ARCHphone,” you told him, and Keanu just smirked, reaching inside his pocket, and pulling a mobile. “Keanu, I…”

Before you could form a protest, he sealed your lips with his, distracting you with a searing kiss that had you burning with need for him.

“Ok…” you sighed against his mouth once he let you away for breath and Keanu grinned. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” setting the phone on your hands so you could explore it. “Just don’t let anyone take too close of a look. That model isn’t out yet.”

You nodded, still distracted by the device, noticing that it was already set up and there was only one name on its contact list: Keanu’s, along with one of the silliest looking ID pictures you had ever seen, which made you giggle.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough,” you said turning your attention back to him and finding him with another box in his hand and a big smile on his lips. “What’s that now?”

“Take a look,” he encouraged with a wiggle of his eyebrows and you tugged on the ribbon, untying the box before you could lift the lid.

“It’s a key,” you frowned in confusion and it took you a second to realize what that meant. “Oh my GOD! Is this…?”

“Yeah,” Keanu chuckled.

“So, I can…”

“Whenever you want,” he assured and you couldn’t contain yourself, you just climbed on his lap and pressed kisses all over his face, chanting your gratitude as he laughed. “One last thing and I promise I’m done.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you slowed your kisses, focusing on his lips now and making them longer, sensuous and you could already feel him hardening underneath you.

“That’s the point, sweetheart.” He lifted his hand by his head, a black credit card between his fingers and you knew what that was without even looking. “For furniture and other expenses as you settle in the new apartment.”

You hesitated in taking the card and you had no idea why. Keanu gave you an apartment, why a credit card linked to his account was the thing that gave you pause? Why taking his money made you guilty when you had been very willing to enjoy the nice, expensive things he bought you with it?

“I can hear you overthinking it,” he whispered, freehand coming to your nape to pull you closer and catch your mouth in another searing kissing that left you gasping and rolling your hips against him. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t feel comfortable with it, but if you don’t you’ll have to wait a month for me to come back and we can get that place furnished. Do you really want to wait?”

You didn’t and he knew it too. For this week, you had experimented the heaven that it was to have an actual comfortable place to live with plenty of space and without a noisy and annoying roommate. A place where you didn’t have to share a bathroom with several other people and you could study without anyone interrupting you or worrying about slow wi-fi or working hours.

You had had the taste of freedom and Keanu knew you weren’t ready to go back to the hell that was your dorm. So, you snatched the card from his hand with narrowed eyes at his little victorious smirk.

“You’re sure I shouldn’t skip my class and you shouldn’t tell everyone at Arch to fuck off?” you asked, lips brushing against his as you grabbed his hand and brought between your legs, to your soaked folds.

“No,” he heaved a sigh, biting your lip before he grabbed his phone and brought it to his ear. “Cheryl I can’t make it to the meeting. Just email me the issues and I’ll take a look at the plane.”

Keanu hung up before there was even a word out from the other side of the line, which made you smirk. Especially when he wrapped his arms tight around you and got up from the couch, your legs coming around his waist to give yourself some more support.

“You, young lady, are a bad influence,” he declared, walking back to the suite.

“I learned with the best,” you grinned, catching his lips in a new kiss.

You could feel the weight of the stares at your back as you made your way to the breakroom. After a week of coming and going from the presidential suite, everyone in the hotel knew about you and Keanu and the whispers and rumors started flying. You were trying your best not to let it affect you but it was hard when every time you stepped into a room, everyone fell silent making painfully obvious that you had been the topic of conversation.

Still, you only had to deal with it for another week since you had delivered your two weeks’ notice. You could handle some gossip for another week. It wouldn’t be enough to make you fall from your high of having a brand-new apartment and the shot of a better life for yourself

Leaned on the reception desk, you flashed a big grin at Maggie, showing her the key. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands, muffling her little squeal of excitement, getting weird looks from one of the other receptionists.

“Already?”

“Yes!” you grinned, happiness brimming in your heart. “What time do you get out? We’re going to celebrate.”

“Seven.”

“Perfect!” you pulled one of the notepads closer, scribbling down the address before pushing it her way. “Just drop by when you’re done.”

“I’m so happy for you!” Maggie grinned wide and you could feel the sincerity in her tone and her eyes. She had been your first real friend in New York and supported you through thick and thin. You knew she would support you through this too.

You waved at her, walking out of the hotel with that silly grin in your lips, wide enough your cheeks were starting to hurt but you couldn’t help yourself. Things were really starting to brighten up for you and it was hard to disguise the relief and excitement. Maybe it wasn’t the way you have pictured, but was that so bad? Plans didn’t always happen how we imagine, but that doesn’t make it a bad thing, right?

You took a taxi to your dorm room, having way too much expensive stuff to risk taking the subway and as you strolled around campus you couldn’t avoid having a little spring on your step, giddiness filling your chest. You were almost hoping that your roommate was around so you could give her the finger as you left your personal hell.

However, she didn’t show up, so you had to settle for leaving a note while you hauled the two suitcases with your possessions, plus your backpack out of the dorm. You paused at the sidewalk just outside the building that had been your home for the last three years. They had been good years despite everything, but you weren’t going to miss it. Not when you knew what was waiting for you on the other side of the cab ride to Morningside Heights.

You rested your forehead against the cool window of the car, watching the city lights passing you by in flashes, excitement bubbling in your chest as the metal of the key heated up against your hand. You couldn’t let it go. It was the ultimate sign that your life would never be the same.

The cabbie parked by the front doors and helped you with your bags, leaving the doorman to take them inside for you while you paused by the front desk to sign up, all the documents needed in your phone.

Once all formalities were concluded, you could take the elevator to your apartment. No, penthouse. The giddiness growing as the numbers moved up and finally the polished metal doors slid open, revealing the well-illuminated hall with one solitary door.

With your suitcases resting by the wall, your hands trembled as you tried to push the key in the hole and you giggled like a kid at the click of the lock and the silent sway of the door, revealing the ample space of the living room, dark except for the dotted lights of the buildings all around you the came through the window panels.

You hesitated, wishing Keanu could be doing this with you, stepping inside your home for the first time. The thought was almost enough to deflate your entire mood, so you quickly shoved aside, taking your first step into your new life. This was it. This was your world now and you would be damned if you were going to let anyone stand in your way.

Flickering the lights on as you walked through the empty space, you took deep breaths, letting the smell of polish wood floors and gleaming new metal fill your nose. There wasn’t any furniture except for the kitchen cabinets and basic appliances, and you tried to imagine how each space would look as you walked around, hands touching the walls and windows.

You wanted a big dinner table and a long couch so you could always have people over and a chandelier – nothing too flashy – above to brighten up the room. You wanted the halls in a light shade of grey and the rooms white to soak up natural lights.

In the master bedroom, you wanted the bed to face the windows so you could always wake up to the sun rising in between the buildings, the orange hues of the sky turning blue as the sun brightened up. You also wanted a window bench so you could sit and read with the city as a background. Your work desk, however, couldn’t face the windows. You would get lost in the view.

Sitting on the duvet you spread on the ground in the exact place where you envisioned your bed, you let your mind wander with home design options and ideas until you heard the intercom and jumped to your feet, knowing Maggie would be waiting outside.

“Oh. My. God!” she said with round eyes as she shoved the sparkling wine in your hands and walked around the apartment. “Oh. My. God.”

You just chuckled, putting the bottle in the fridge and following as she explored the place. When she stepped on the terrace, her eyes grew even wider and her grin brighter.

“OH. MY. GOD!”

“I know!” you giggled covering your mouth. You couldn’t believe yourself just yet.

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” Maggie’s smile was soft and sincere as she drew you into her arms. “I really am. You’re one of kindest, good-hearted people I’ve ever met in this city and you deserve a good life.”

“Thanks, Mags,” you grinned, your eyes burning with the unshed tears. Your heart bursting with emotion. She really was such an amazing friend. “Let’s pop that bottle and order Chinese?”

“Fuck yes!” she cheered, following you back to the kitchen.

The days blurred together as they went by. You still had class every day and finished your two weeks-notice at last, which gave you plenty of free time. More than you knew what to do with. So you focused your energy on getting the apartment livable.

You took Maggie shopping for furniture. Your first purchase was a bed because your back was starting to hurt from sleeping on the floor. You got a king-size bed with padded headboard, bedside tables, and an office desk and chair because you were never good at working in bed without falling asleep or getting distracted. Next was the kitchen stuff you needed since you couldn’t live off takeout forever.

You never knew nice china and cutlery were that expensive. It was almost as if the uglier they got, the price went up, even more, to convince buyers it was worth it. Fortunately, you weren’t a moron, so you settled for plain white ones because you were planning to eat from them not put it on display.

Keanu was less than thrilled with your picks though, and everything you two video chatted and you showed your latest buy, he would get that look on his face that told you he was trying to pretend he didn’t hate it. Or when you sent a link of something you were planning to get, and he just shot it down in three seconds.

“Oh my God! You’re so pretentious,” you complained good-naturedly at your nightly chat as Keanu vetoed the couch you intended to by.

“It’s not being pretentious, sweetheart. It’s having a taste for the finer things in life,” he replied with a smirk, laying back on his luxurious bed in LA.

You could see dark sheets and an elegant bedframe of twisted metal in decorative loops. His torso was bare, and his hair curled slightly behind his ears, showing he had showered recently and let it dry naturally.

“You’re saying that just because your bed cost twice as mine…”

“A little more than twice,” he corrected, making you roll your eyes.

“Fine! Just because your bed cost an obscene amount of money, doesn’t mean it’s better than mine.”

“Ours,” he corrected again and this time, you smiled. “Our bed and yes, it does. I make sure to only get the best for my places and that penthouse isn’t going to be an exception.”

You mulled over his words, tapping your index finger on your jaw. Truth was, you did walk by Horchow and Modani that first day, but the posh looks of the displays and salesperson made you run to the familiar halls of Ikea. At least there you could blend in. Everyone went to Ikea and you still remembered the days that you walked between their products, picking the furniture for your dream house, which you were doing right now.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of dreaming a little bigger, love,” he smiled gently at you once you confessed that and that familiar warmth that you always felt when Keanu granted you that look, all soft and caring, filled your chest. Damn you missed him.

Saturday after your conversation with him, you were awakened by someone leaning heavily on the doorbell and when you finally managed to groggily drag yourself from your bed and pad barefoot to the open it, your apartment was invaded by a small entourage of overly energetic and sharply dressed people.

“He was right! It is perfect!” the man that seemed to be leading the party cooed, walking past you like you were part of the furniture as he admired the window panels and the morning light that filtered through it.

“I’m sorry, but who the hell are you?” you asked after a moment of watching them scattering around your place, browsing through everything, measuring tapes coming out every once in a while.

“Didn’t Mr. Reeves tell you?” he asked, spinning on his heel to look at you, his lips crisping in distaste at your messy hair and oversized sleeping shirt. “I’m Ryan, the interior designer that did his offices here in New York.”

“I guess he forgot to mention,” you replied, rubbing your eyes and moving towards the counter to get some coffee. “I’m guessing you’re here to fix the apartment?”

“I wouldn’t say fix…” he trailed off, looking around, but his grimace was quite obvious. “Alright, I would. Honey, do you have any idea how lucky you are? You got a high-end apartment in one of the best areas of the city and unlimited funds to get it just the right way. Think big!”

“People keep telling me that,” you sighed, leaning against the counter, holding your mug like it was a lifeline in the brand new world you had just been thrown into. “I’m a simple girl with simple needs.”

‘I can work with that,” he smiled at you and this time you could actually feel some warmth behind his words as he moved closer, ARCHpad in hand. “And simple doesn’t have to mean cheap.”

You spent the rest of the day with Ryan and his team, going through each room of the apartment selecting the right color scheme, wallpapers, and furniture, browsing the website of some of the most expensive design stores you had ever seen.

Ryan tried his best to be gentle and kind with you but you could tell he was losing patience with your hesitation every time your gaze landed on the price of a specific product, making you once again scared by the amount you were spending.

“You know we could furniture several small houses with what we’re investing in this one apartment?” you asked Ryan as he kept pushing you into buying this gorgeous couch that costed more than what your mother made in a month.

“Yes, and that’s dreadful,” Ryan heaved an annoyed sigh. “Would not buying this couch fix anything?”

“Well, no…”

“Good!” he cut you off, clicking on the purchase button. “That settles then. And we’re done for today, tomorrow Alicia will come over with options for your wardrobe.”

You looked down at yourself. After Ryan and his team invaded your home, you put on a pair of leggings under your sleeping shirt and pulled your hair up in a bun. You didn’t think you looked that bad, did you?

“What’s wrong with my wardrobe right now?” You asked and Ryan let out a sharp laugh, putting away his things in his briefcase.

“You’re funny. I can see why Mr. Reeves likes you,” he pecked your cheek like you two were best friends and led his crew to the door, handing you a card. “Call if you need anything else.”

You waited until they were out of sight to grab your phone and text Keanu, asking if he was available to talk. His answer was to make a videocall you.

“I have five minutes before an acquisition meeting, so talk fast.” You could see the tension in his shoulders, on the crease of his brow and the steel in his eyes. It made you immediately regret having reached out at all.

“It’s not important. Have a good meeting,” you said, thumb already hovering over the end button.

“Wait,” Keanu sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. It’s been a shit week. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“No, I just…” you paused, looking away. Part of you wanted to be there to ease whatever tension seemed to be lingering in his frame. Part of you didn’t know if you should feel like that considering you were just his… you didn’t even know how to describe it. “Do you not like how I look? How I dress?”

“What?” Keanu frowned in confusion. “Of course, I do. What makes you…” he paused realization coloring his features. “Alicia.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“It’s not like that, sweetheart,” he explained. “One: I could care less about how you dress. As a matter of fact, if you could walk naked for the rest of your life, I’d die a happy man.” That made you giggle, a blush creeping up your cheeks because Keanu was talking about you two in the long-term and that made you undeniably happy. “Unfortunately, I can’t take you to a charity ball in t-shirt and leggings… I mean, I could…” he smirked, and you chuckled again. “That’s where Alicia comes in. I’ll make sure to tell her not to bug you with anything other than event clothes. How about that?”

“I can handle that,” you smiled at him, tucking one lock of hair behind your ear as you looked at his considerably more relaxed expression. The creases in his face this time from amusement and not tension. You preferred those much better. “I miss you.”

The words escaped you and for a moment you regretted, but Keanu’s expression softened up even more as he gazed at the screen.

“I miss you too,” he breathed out. “Wish I could fly over for the weekend, but there’s so much shit going on…”

“It’s alright, Ke, We can handle another two weeks,” you tried to fake a cheerful tone but from the look in his face, he didn’t buy it and neither did you. Someone called his name from out of the frame and he looked away for a second, nodding before glancing back at you. “Have a good meeting.”

“Thank you. Call you tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The next day, you were dressed and caffeinated when Alicia knocked on your door, also with her small crew of people. You had given a lot of thought about the entire thing after talking to Keanu and even if you didn’t want to do a complete makeover, you wouldn’t mind changing a bit to better fit in his world. In your new world.

Maggie agreed that if you had the chance to look a little nicer, with fancier clothes and professional help for your hair and nails, what would be the harm? It would even help with job interviews. Every advisor you had even been to always told you that the way one looked could make or break their chances.

So, you let Alicia and her team work on you. Waxing every hair of your body – and sweet Jesus that hurt – leaving you so smooth your skin felt soft like a baby’s. Cut your hair in a modern new long bob that flattered your face; fix your eyebrows and give you tutorials on makeup for different occasions as well as saddle you with so many beauty products the marble counter of your sink looked like it housed a small army.

When it came to clothing, Alicia took time to hear your needs as she offered several new choices with your style in mind and you loved every single one of them, from the basic tees and jeans to the pencil skirts and button-downs for business occasion and the party gowns and cocktail dresses. They were all gorgeous.

“Now, lingerie…” she said, opening a different case and giving you a sly smile. “There are a few sets that Mr. Reeves picked himself.”

“He did?” Your voice squeaked slightly, as you rubbed your nape and looked anywhere but, Alicia.

“Yes. He has excellent taste,” she said, spreading five pairs of bra and panties, three corsets, two slips, and a robe on the bed.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, touching the rich lace and silky soft satin of the slip and the robe. They were all gorgeous and heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of putting these on for Keanu, letting him devour your shape and curves as you paraded for him. A shiver ran down your spine and you finally met Alicia’s eyes.

“Yes, to all of those,” your gaze moved to her case. “What else do you have?”

By the time you were done picking all kinds of lingerie imaginable, the sun was starting to set and you knew Keanu would be calling soon, so you said your goodbyes to Alicia, thanking her profusely as you guided the way to the front door.

“One more thing,” she said, digging something out of her bag, a square black box and handing it to you. “He told me to give you this.”

“What is it?” you asked with a frown, undoing the bow on top, but before you could open the lid, she rested a hand over yours.

“Maybe you should take a look in private,” she smirked at you, eyebrows raised and the rush of blood to your cheeks made your face hot.

“Oh.” Alicia winked at you before stepping out, leaving you alone with the black box and your thoughts.

You let the box on the bed, still too afraid of opening it; choosing instead to take a long bath. It had been a long weekend with too many people coming and going. You just wanted the chance of soaking up in the bubbly water, enjoy yourself before putting on one the slips Keanu picked and settling in bed to take a look inside the box.

It wasn’t as terrifying as you first thought, just a purple silicone thing, shaped like a U and for a while, you wondered how exactly it worked. You had never owned a sex toy before, so you had no clue what to do with that one. And from what you could see, there weren’t instructions included.

The vibrations of your phone made you startle and you scrabbled to put the toy out of view before picking up, sighing in relief when you saw it was Keanu. You accepted his video call, leaning back on the headboard to make yourself more comfortable.

“Wow!” he breathed out when the video connected and he saw you, making you grin. “You look… wow.”

‘I made you speechless,” you chuckled. “That has to be a first.”

“Not a first, but very rare,” he said, his voice turning lower and you could already feel the shiver running down your spine. “Let me see all of you.”

With a nod, you moved to stand in front of the mirror, shifting cameras, and Keanu let out a sharp and shaky exhale, shifting in his own bed and you could once again see his bare torso.

“You look amazing, sweetheart.” The hunger in his eyes was enough to make you flush, your skin suddenly hot. “Did you get my gift?”

“You mean this?” you asked, returning to bed and showing the toy. “Yes, though I have no idea what to do with it.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t get it for you to play alone,” he smirked at you. “Now, I’m going to send you a link so we can move this to a private channel. You’re gonna need your computer for this.”

You obeyed his instructions, setting up the computer between your legs and clicking the link he emailed you, it loaded into a simple videoconference app with no identification and you wondered if Keanu made this especially for these occasions.

“That’s better,” he smiled at you and now you could see more of him, of his naked body and you swallowed hard at the sight of his cock resting on the nest of dark hair.

You could never get tired of looking at Keanu like this, completely naked for your hungry gaze. He was fit, but not overly defined. You knew his broad torso housed solid muscles, hard and strong and he was capable to pin you down or lift you up and that was all that mattered. The sight was much more appealing than a model’s six-pack.

“This is safe?” you asked, the idea of doing this on camera making you shy.

“Perfectly safe. I promise,” Keanu smiled reassuringly. “Now, I want you to touch yourself. Pretend it’s my hand.”

You settled back on the pillows, letting your fingertips travel down over the hollow of your throat, and the valley of your breasts. You closed your eyes to try and imagine his hand, his touch, but your digits were too small, too soft in comparison. Still, his pleased hum was enough to spur you one and you, circled one nipple over the silk of your slip, making the nub harden, raising goosebumps on your arms and legs. You could feel the slow, lazy tendrils of pleasure waking up in your center, sending tiny sparks of enjoyment and heat through your veins.

“You look so fucking sexy like that,” Keanu breathed out, his voice rougher than before, breathier. “God! I miss your taste. I miss your smell. I just wanna bury my face on your cunt, lick you up until you’re writhing and riding my mouth.”

You keened softly, pressing your legs together as the throb in your core started, his words panting such an enticing picture.

“We haven’t done that yet, have we? Have you sitting on my face, let you ride it, suffocate me with your juices.” His smirk was one of the dirtiest things you have ever seen and as the need grew inside you, your grip on your breast tightened, making you moan. “Do you want that? Do you want to ride my face?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed out, shoving the straps of your slip down so you could better touch your breasts. You sucked a thumb, flickering against your nipples and you arched at the sensation, your skin so hot, your lungs tight, making your breath come out in desperate pants.

“And after you drench my face, I’ll put you in all fours and fuck that pretty cunt,” Keanu continued, making the throb more intense and your core wetter. “Are you soaked, sweetheart? Dripping on the bed?”

You lifted your skirt and spread your legs to the camera, watching as Keanu cursed and fisted his hardening cock.

“Yes, sir,” you pushed one finger inside yourself and swirled your clit with your thumb, making a bolt of pleasure shot through you. “So wet.”

“Good,” he growled. “Get the toy. You’re gonna put the larger end inside your cunt, the smaller one should press against your clit.”

You obeyed through the hazy of your pleasure. It felt weird at first, the texture foreign against your entrance and your walls clenched slightly, keeping the toy out, but you played with your clit a little more, while you teased your slit with the rubber and finally, your walls allowed the toy passage.

It wasn’t a large as Keanu’s cock, but it did give you a sort of fullness and it teased your g-spot slightly, but not enough to do anything for you. You figured there should be some kind of vibrating function, but as far as you could see, there weren’t any buttons.

Before you could ask Keanu, the toy came to life, making you shout and shake, the vibrations coursing through your clit and center, kindling your pleasure like an erupting volcano and when you managed to finally open your eyes and look at the screen, Keanu had a huge, shit-eating smirk and was holding his phone in hand. He was controlling the toy.

“Feels good, sweetheart?” he asked, stroking his cock and you nodded, getting lost in the sensations. “Keep those thighs open, baby. I wanna see you.”

“Sorry, Mr. Reeves,” you whimpered, forcing your legs apart. The pleasure was so intense your first instinct was to close up, keep that pulsing deep inside so you could enjoy every second.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he asked.

“So, fucking good,” you sighed, rolling your hips, trying to find more of that sweet pleasure, your hands squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

“Better than my cock?”

“No,” you whimpered, looking at him with heavy lids. “Never.”

“Good answer,” he smirked, and the vibrations went up, making you moan and writhe, your walls convulsing around the toy, as if unsure if they should try to push it away or deeper inside you. “Fuck! You looked so pretty all flushed and undone for me. I wish I could record this. I can almost taste how desperate you are to cum.”

“Please, sir,” you whined, head thrown back, back arched. The knot in your center so tight and so good but you still needed something, that little nudge to send you over the edge.

“If I was there,” Keanu said, his hand working faster around his hard, leaking cock. His words punctuated by little grunts. “I’d have you on your knees, sucking my cock while that toy worked that cunt. I’d make you choke on my cock until you could feel your throat around my head. Do you want that?”

“Fuck! Yes, Mr. Reeves,” you were rocking your hips steadily now, tears of frustration running down your temples as the pleasure got unbearable, but not enough to make you come undone.

“Or maybe I could fuck that tight ass? Take yet another virginity of yours?”

The mere suggestion coupled with a sudden increase of vibrations nearly made you scream as your orgasm surged through you like a crashing wave, pulling you under. You cried out his name, feeling the gush of warm liquid soak your thighs and the sheet beneath you.

“Well that was unexpected,” Keanu chuckled at little, breathless and flushed himself, his belly and chest smeared with pearly white cum as he turned off the toy. “I didn’t know you could squirt, sweetheart.”

“I, uh, I didn’t know either…” you panted, your cheeks burning, and you could barely look at the screen, too busy staring at the huge wet spot under you.

“It was fucking hot,” he called out, making you peer at him. “Next time, I want you to do it all over my cock.”

“Yes, sir…” you gasped, your center pulsing as you looked at him. “Thirteen days and counting.”

“Too fucking long,” he sighed, looking almost angry as he cleaned his chest with a tissue. “I just want you with me. One week together and I already miss having you pressed against me when I sleep.” Keanu chuckled to himself. “I’m spending most of the night awake because you’re not there. How pathetic is that?”

You bit your lip and shifted in the bed, avoiding the wet spot as you met his brown eyes, your hearts doing acrobatic flips due to his confession.

“It’s not,” you whispered. “I miss you too. I miss your smell. I even bought a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon to see if I can get the room to smell like you. It didn’t work.”

Keanu snorted, his gaze locking you in place as he stared through the screen.

“What did you do to me, sweetheart? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way.”

“Me either,” you confessed, that giddiness returning along with a boldness you didn’t recognize. “Keanu, I think…”

Before you could finish your words, his phone started ringing and he looked over at the caller ID and cursed.

“I need to take this, sweetheart. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

He turned off the videocall before you could reply and you sighed, lowering the lid of your laptop down and cuddling the pillow. Were you really about to tell Keanu you loved him? A man you barely knew? That your entire relationship was based on a contract? Did you lose your mind?

Then again, could you even deny to yourself anymore? You did love him. You were pretty sure you fell the second your lips touched his that first time around. Even if you shouldn’t have. Even if it would only bring you trouble.

But whenever Keanu said stuff like that; bared himself to you like that, you felt maybe you weren’t crazy in wanting him as much as you did. You thought you saw through the cracks of the armor he kept raised something that went beyond the contract. More than plain affection or desire.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be more to his, but if you were to find out, you needed to be with him in person, push past his walls until you could find out if you were right or out of your mind.

You needed to go to LA.

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[missingartist]

The Witcher’s Mate- Chapter 20

In his 350 years, he had thought he had seen it all. Vesemir the unofficial head Witcher had spent years traipsing up, and down the country, he knew every path and detail of any town worth knowing to a Witcher. However, in his lifetime he did not foresee having to deal with a Witcher’s mate. Barmin, his master had glossed over it in training, dismissing the idea of it being any use. In his training, he and other fledgeling Witchers had become intrigued with the concept, but the master had been dismissive enough to toss them a copy of The Witcher- A History. With a whole chapter dedicated to the Witcher’s Mate. Being privileged enough to witness the building of the Witcher home he knew every book placed in the library and this battered copy preserved the only mentions of soulbonds in the entire Witcher section of the library. Barmin had mentioned that it was a Witcher’s Curse to be bound to another who would wither and die or who would face dying of a broken heart as the life of a Witcher was a dangerous one before placing the book back on the shelf where it gathered dust for the past 300 years. Till now that was.

Making his way up the gritty staircase, books wedged underneath his arms, he let the soft glow of the candlestick light his way from the archive and through the winding halls. Mermaid literature held little room in the main library; Witchers had no dealing with Merfolk for 400 years, he himself only met two. The first was a stunning female, long green hair and pale olive skin, a tail of metallic blue scales, pulling the fresh Witcher from a stormy sea when drowners pinned him down in the murky depth. She had all the makings of the predator, savage and vicious yet in the cave which she dragged him, she had all the tenderness of a maiden. She was inquisitive and powerful, and to the newly made Witcher, she was direct in her wants, spending the night and day making very extensive use of his body. A smile stretched across his feature, and he remembers the dalliance of his youth. The other had been a Trition, the male of the species, while not a beautiful as the female he had been majestic in his airs. He had been just as predatory as the female but seemed to lack in power of the female, it did not have the sharp barbs of teeth, or the ability to walk on earth demanded help to free a water sprite from a tree curse. If indeed the Adva girl was a mermaid it would cause a lot of difficulties. Mermaids where predators plain and simple, with very complex social structures and even more complicated mating rituals, one that they kept closely guarded. This was going to be near impossible. Witcher bonding was going to be difficult enough to get their heads around it didn’t really need the extra stress of figuring how a mermaid bonded.  He envisaged many nights slaving over a manuscript.

The library fire is dying. The low flame dominated the dwindling wood giving the room a soft light. He had, on being regaled with all the details excused himself to the archives, Barmin having moved all the Merfolk down there to add a room to the main collection. It had taken the best part of the afternoon to weedle through the mass of papers and books that had chaotically thrown into to achieve with no accord. Dropping the various scrolls and manuscripts, he settled himself into his leather-bound seat and placed the candlestick back in its holder—the soft flare of flame illuminating a slim figure perched on the window ledge.

‘Dove, I thought you would be in bed.’

‘Not sleepy…been an eventful day.’ Ciri rolled her shoulder, standing.

Moving from her perch, she fed the fire three thick blocks of wood, watching as the room was lit up with the roaring orange flame. The food she had gathered of dried meat, cheese and wine still sat untouched, Jaskier had tried to tempt Adva with the cheese and wine to no avail. Picking up the jug, she poured two generous helpings into the spare goblets and sat opposite the master Witcher.

‘I don’t think I would be able to sleep if I had seen Geralt finally put it to Yennefer. I would have properly celebrated so hard I would be drunk for a fortnight.’ The older man laughed picking up his goblet and throw back his contents, red droplets staining his white beard pink. ‘It would be Geralt that got mixed up with a soulmate who had to be a mermaid. He can’t live simply, even as…Has someone fixed the wall.’ Vesemir gawped at the wall by the window. The peeling stone wall had been replastered and the drafted that has previously whistled through the library on a cold night was no more. He had meant to repair it for the last fortnight, but the north-west staircase was in need of refurbishing, the barn needed to be mended, three chimneys needed sweeping and renovating and the long list of other restorations.

‘Adva and she reputtied the windows.’ the answer was tense and dry as she brought her cup to her lips and took a sip of the strong liquid.

‘She’s been her ten hours, and she replastered a wall and fixed a window? At least Geralt has the brains to pick a useful mate; I wonder if she does roofing.’ Vesemir gruffed, filling his goblet and downing it once again.

Ciri could feel annoyance rise within her, Vesemir was always dismissive and so distant from his emotions he couldn’t understand her concern. Since arriving, Adva had used the plaster in the hallway, despite their protest she spent most of the day fixing the wall and cleaning, Jaskier had tried to pull her away, but she looked near tears and battered their concerns away. Both Jaskier and Ciri sank back and watched Adva flit around the room, dusting, mopping and polishing. Ciri had never seen the library look so clean. In the space of ten hours, she had fixed the library and cleaned three full rooms before her eyelids began to droop, and Jaskier scooped her away before she could protest and tucked her tightly into a bed in one of the many rooms while Ciri searched through many garments that had cluttered up closets and chests from long forgot herbalists and Witchers that had come and gone to replace her outfit.

‘Vesemir! I am worried about Adva; a person doesn't start repairing buildings when they learn that they are a Mermaid and a Soulmate.’

‘And you know the extensive guide on how someone needs to react when they discover they are a Mermaid or a soulmate, was hardly worth me spending all day in the archives with such an expert already here.’ Vesemire scoffed, his eyes glancing against the bundle he had gathered with some concern. The few books that he found would have little in them to help with their… unique situation.

‘That not what I meant.’ the young woman sulked, pushing her bottom lip out as far as it could go.

‘Do you remember when you discovered your bloodline? It took us three weeks to stop you hacking the dummy to bits. People cope with things differently. If I had to meet Yennefer again, I probably devote myself to fixing the whole castle. You care a lot about Adva, don’t ya? Empathy is the downfall of a Witcher.’ Vesemire scolded. He didn’t know how many time he had tried to drum that into her and Geralt.

‘I…I do I see a lot of myself in her. Alone and confused, betrayed and powerful but scared about it.’ Ciri sighed.

It hurt to admit; it was traumatic. The early years of her life had been so lovely, but the last decade, wave after wave of people had tried to claim her for themselves. Kings seeking power, Witches seeking power, Cults seeking power. They were all the same, trying to imprisoner, impregnate or kill her. It left her feeling insecure and uncertain; she had been betrayed so many time she had lost count. That unlimited power made her a target for every crazed group that emerged from the shadows, but it also made her scared, the power within her had a fine line between chaos and control, and with that enormous pressure to remain in control. Her deepest fear was herself, and what she could do or become, she sensed that same fear in Adva.

‘You have only just met her, don’t get too attached. Yennefer will find a way to get rid of her if not that she’ll turn into a she-daemon knowing Geralt's taste in women.’ Vesemir scoffed dryly.

Geralt was the son he had never had, but his taste in a woman was shocking, there had been that redhead succubus who tried to eat him. The doomed princess in the tower, Renfri. Three herbalists, Triss and Yennefer. He should just stick to a whore like everyone else, it would save a lot of time and effort, and the damage Kaer Morhan would be minimal, the amount of time Yennefer had destroyed something because of a petty argument was unbelievable. Ciri stood abruptly and started to pace.

‘Dove, what troubles you?’

‘I…Yennefer has been….I dunno. She has been difficult…’

‘Yennefer difficult? Never?’ The laughedffff trickled from the witcher lips.

‘Before they…parted. Yennefer did something….horrid and tried to get Geralt to finish it… he refused, and Yennefer was vicious, and then the spell broke and….’

‘Went batshit?’

‘Batshit is an understatement…. I thought Geralt was wrong… that he should have but I dunno; I was so angry I was blinded.’ Ciri winced at her confession.

For the most part, she never admitted when she was wrong; she was too stubborn for that; her pride would not allow her the humiliation of accepting it. But there were times, time like these when things became a cluster fuck that she could admit it. Her love for her mother figure, her nurturer and teacher had blinded her to the sheer despicable nature of Yennefer plan, so much so it had made her hate Geralt. But with every passing day, she realised how stupid she had been.  Looking back made her wince with shame as she recalled all the unpleasant thoughts that went through her mind and the things she said. Ciri felt ashamed of herself, more so now she was in the Witcher’s Fortress where the memories of their relationship[ resurfaced, all the times Geralt had protected her from the violent tongue lashing of Vesemir for wondering off and training on her own. The times when he gave her a silent hug because he knew what she needed.

‘Don’t blame yourself, Yennefer has a knack for playing on one's emotions.’ The master witcher soothed in his gruff voice.

Looking up, she felt herself smiling. For all his stubborn grumpiness Vesemir was the kindly grandfather figure she needed. The bias spectator, guiding her through Geralt and Yennefer many, many arguments with a scoff and an eye roll.

‘I worry about what she will do to Adva. She already seems resigned to being cast aside, and Yennefer will play on that.’

The confession was not something she needed to say out loud; all of them were worried about what Yennefer would do; even Adva could sense it. Yennefer was capable of being truly malicious especial again those who had wronged her,

‘Maybe that is for the best. A Witcher’s life is one fought with danger having a soul mate would be even more so.’

‘You should have seen the way Geralt was with her Vesemir. The way he looked at her was…’ Ciri paused for a moment in thought ‘it was worshipping…I don’t even know how to describe it and when she flinched away from him, I thought he could break down. When she went through the portal, I thought he was going to roar in after her. I love Yennefer, I always will, nothing and no one will change that, but at the minute I don’t even what to be near her.’  

A dull pain began to throb in the corner of his left eye; there was not enough ale and wine in the whole of the castle to get him through the next couple of weeks. Damn Geralt. First, he had brought Yennefer, who destroyed every room she stayed in and threw furniture carved by their Witcher founders out the window. The elder had lost count of how many times in the past decade, Geralt had found himself at the end of a difficult situation. And this situation was the worse; soulmates were messy, and for Witcher, mates were rare and unpredictable. Geralt would be a muscle-bound mess of raging hormones, worse than when he first mutated and with Yennefer roaming around, lurking in every corner, he could feel the annoyance and irritation begin to build.

‘It will work out, for better or worse. But from what I know about soul bond, they are very powerful, and it would take more then Yennefer to do that….besides if she is that good at repairs, we need to keep her around.’

If he survived this, it would be a miracle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kaer Mohen was beyond anything that she had ever believed. Nestled in the middle of a vast valley, built into a mighty mountain, the almighty structure was awe-inspiring. Surrounded in greenery and limpid pools as far as the eyes could see, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. Inside did not disappoint; it was elegant, chequered marble flooring, latticed woodwork, majestically carved furniture, and rugs that while worn and dusty were exquisite. However, it was sure that the castle had seen better days, gaping holes in the roof leaked into the rooms letting in the local wildlife. Plaster was coming off the wall in large chunks, and a sharp draft came whistling through the castle. Still, it the most amazing place that she had ever seen. The library included. The vast collection of books held in sturdy mahogany shelved held behind thick sheets of glass, it was an extensive collection, most in languish she had never seen before, and the desire to pull each one out and read was overwhelming. The library seemed sadly empty just one large table and one comfy chair perched in the middle, books and quills surrounding the work area.

Vesemir seemed to be making the most of her, giving her a list of chores in the morning and then after their midday meal they would group together and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in the library. In all honestly, that was fine with her, she didn’t want to think about soulbond or Geralt. A sickness bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Waking up in the bed in a musty room brought back that only the day before she woke in the warmth of the Witcher. At least the chore distracted her from the churn of emotion that built inside of her and the anxiety that came with letting her mind wander.

‘How can you read this.’ Ciri slipped down next to the women who was engrossed in a book that contained mostly scribbled lines and dots. Just looking at the page was enough to give the former princess a headache.

‘Lunch’ Vesemir called slamming what could only be loosely described as a strew on the table. Four clay bowl slide into the various place, as they stared down at the brown slop. ‘That is my famous stew.’

The elder Witcher glared at the bard who grimaced at the pot in front of him. The mixture was brown and gritty, whatever meat was unrecognisable, the smell of a mixture of fermented broth and fried meat, it was not unpleasant, but it was not particularly appetising especially with strange unknown bits floating on the top. Jaskier twisted his face in disgust as he poked at it with his wooden spoon.

‘Famous because it kills anyone who eats it?’ Jaskier question letting the food slide off his spoon with a spatter.

Vesemir stared daggers at the bard as he is inhaling another spoonful of stew, most of it coating his beard.

‘Don’t you have any more books on Merfolk Vesemir?’ Ciri asked, leafing through the pile of red books scattered over the bench.

‘Mermaid isn’t the sort of thing Witchers deal with.’

‘But aren’t they supernatural creature.’ Jaskier retorted his right eyebrow inching up his forehead.

‘Aye, bard they are but never given us cause. Merfolk sticks to deep water and out the way of humans and creature alike. Humans have tried to wage war on them in the early days, but it futile. You aren’t ever gonna win against a creature that can sink whole fleets of ships in one go.’ Another heaping spoonful of stew smeared across his mouth. ‘Time from the time they appear near land but never bother anyone; it does not like they would abandon one of their pod on land…especially a child. I will have enough look in the archive but the literature of the Merfolk in rare. Not many have ever got close enough. I know a while back Geralt helped some duke marry Sh'eenaz, a mermaid, but she became sad, and the couple went back to the sea kingdom.’

‘So we have no idea about anything.’ Ciri spoke, slowly eyes resting on the deflated other woman.

‘You are more than welcome to search down in the archive,  but most merfolk literature is hoarded by private collectors.’

‘So we don’t know anything.’ Ciri bite out and throw a thick book across the room, pages fluttering across the marble floor.

Jaskier reached a hand across and took Adva’s giving her a reassuring squeeze. The brown-haired woman closed the book, shoulder sagging.

‘Adva If you promise to cook from now on I will go in the archives myself and battle the army of spiders in search of anything else.’

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vesemir brought down the axe forcefully as he broke down the log and tossed it into the giant pile of firewood. From his place on the verge, he watched Adva.

Though, not the most skilful and hone in her technique Adva was accomplished. For a simple kitchen, she had a strong stance which made it hard for Ciri to break through her defence. There was no obvious contest between the two, Ciri was the more skilled and her magic more adaptive, there had been several points in which his young ward had the upper hand, but Adva managed to put on the defence, which she played well. The master Witcher didn’t see that predatory creature that he had met in his experience, just a determined young woman, strong and sweet. He found it hard to believe that she could be a mermaid. Her ability with water being the only real characteristic that they shared. There was no killer insisted, no savage passion within her, no flailing tail or hissing fangs, just a scared little girl that he now had to keep safe.

Slamming the axe down Vesemir took himself to the side to watch the pair closely. Ciri seemed to tire of being pushed back, stepped up her attack by using her blink power, teleporting her way around her. The gruff Witcher couldn’t help but smile, the little girl who would sneak off to practice on her own was no a skilled warrior. Adva’s movement became panicked and jilted as she dodged the attack, frustration ebbing in her every movement. Collecting his roofing tools, he made his way across the stall and once against back to the field to collect the ladder. This time Ciri seemed to be on the back foot. Adva’s attacks were precise and direct, one after the other. A water blast threw the young Witcher off her footing, causing her to stumble back, and whip of water then appeared out of nowhere lashing itself across her side and wrapped itself around her wrist slamming her into the dirt.

Vesemir stilled, his body is tensed his eye trained on the pair, grabbing for the axe he embedded in the tree stump. He saw it, the killer instancing, the way her eyes shone that little bit brighter. Ciri recovered well, shifting her body to the left in a blur of blue light escape the confines of the water vines before rolling up on her feet and brushing the dust off.

Adva blinked, several times swallowing heavily as she took a step back as she felt the adrenaline still racing through her vein.

‘Good attack. Never really seen anything like that.’ Ciri smiled, standing to her full height. ‘Next time I won't go so easy on you. I better go see how Jaskier is doing. The spiders have properly cornered him in archives. We will pick this up again tomorrow…but you are going down’ Ciri smirked, nodding at Vesesir before ascending the step of the balcony.

‘I see Ciri found you some clothing, more practical for doing maintenance. You can help me patch up the roof, get the tar and meet m by the ladder.’

Looking down, she pulled at the outfit she had been given from a large box of items left by the various people that passed through. The bottoms were a pair of duelling trousers made from a shammy leather material, making them soft and stretchy, that held her tight across the arse and allowed for free movement. They were at least 50 years old but kept pristine by the mothballs packed in the trunk of clothing. The deep red material suited her and at least didn’t show the dirt from the unkept castle. The top was an oversized tunic that fell to mid-thigh; it was thick enough to keep the chill that had started to cling in the air. A cracked old belt clinched tightly around her waist to keep the oversized garments from slipping off her body completely.

Pushing her way up the steep bank to the courtyard, Adva pulled the bubbling tar from its fire. The courtyard held the shed and the stables it was up at the top of a sharp incline; it leads all the way round to the training grounds which Ciri had been handing her ass to her for the best part of the day, a sense of pride swelled within her as she laid the foul-smelling tar into a bucket. She had managed to keep upright and had a few good hits, she was improving, and her powers had developed in the passing weeks with Triss. Training with Ciri proved that.

When the bucket was full, tentatively she pulled it up the ladder on top of what she thought was a storage shed beside the kitchen. Vesemir was already hard at work, hammering in think sleet slate into the missing patches. Wordlessly, the master witcher tossed her a tarring brush, a thin stick with a rag attached to it and nodded toward the slates. Between the old tiles was a thick layer of tar, filling any minute gaps in which the water to seep through and flood the room beneath. Adva swilled the brush into the thick liquid and plastered around the edges of the shingles.

The height was not her favourite, the mere thought of going any higher made her head spin. They worked in silence for the best part of an hour, as soon as he finished one, she would swoop in and slather the thick goop on the slabs. It was clear to see where Geralt got his mannerisms, the way they both puckered their brow when they were concentrating. The way their eyes shifted as they worked, head shifting at every noise. These features were not different that Geralt could not pass for his son, but Adva had made a deep study of Geralt, his features where sharper, more defined. Both men had strong physic, after years of training and monster hunting, but Geralt's frame seemed bulkier, shoulders broader and arms solid with muscle.

A deep wave of shame consumed her. She had promised herself she wouldn’t think of him, but he crept into her mind. A melancholy fell over her, it was a numbness, at gnawed at her core.

‘Next is the west staircase, I will teach you how to tack and shave down the boards.’ Vesemir grunted as he threw the hammer into the dirt as he made his way down the ladder. Holding out his hand to help Adva down, grabbing the bucket and brush and tossing it to the side.

Adva nodded, thankful for something to do.

‘Never thought a little girl would be much good a roofing you are a strange little thing.’

Adva laughed awkwardly, wiping her hands on her piny. ‘You know what brothel is like, all hand on deck. I cooked, cleaned, mediated, fix roofs, walls, beds.’

‘Not much of a life for a little girl.’ Vesemir stared down at her; it was an uncomfortable gaze, that pierced through her.

The master witcher looked at her, his medallion didn’t vibrate, but there was a warmth to it, just enough to heat the skin beneath the wolfs head. He wasn’t sure that she was a Mermaid, but there was something. Something strange. Something different that he could put his finger on. But now she looked like a scared little girl, a girl being dragged from one bad situation to the next. Tough and hard-working but most of all, frighten of that power within her. It bubbled under the surface, threatening to rear its head.

‘Last time I check I was a woman…well, Mermaid.’ Adva shot him a steely determined look. He wasn’t sure what she was determined about, but it made him give out a snort, it reminded him of Ciri when she first stumbled into his home.

‘Well, Mermaid…we better get back. I think Jaskier is dying for more of my cooking.’ The older man gave her a small smile as he guided them through the courtyard.

For once, he was as near as excited as a Witcher could be to see Yennefer again, as he could tell that sweet little maid was going to give her a run for her money. A deep smirk set into his features, if he had anything to do with it, Yennefer would definitely have a run for her money.

This was supposed to be out last weekend, but drama has got real. I work in a school, and it’s a mess. I have been trying to sort out all my evidence for a qualification I have been doing, which is draining, and family are having health issues. But I am happy to announce that smut is insight. I have been planning out future chapters, and they are looking good.

For those of you who are confused about Adva’s coping strategy, I sort of based it on me. When I get stressed or anxious I turn into a clean freak.  Recently, I got so stressed I actually put up several shelves, despite not having anything to put on them. I thought it would make her a little more realist. 

I am also having flashes of inspiration for a GeraltxOCxEskel story if anyone is interested. I love Eskel he is like a giant cuddly teddy bear! It properly won't be out till I finish The Witchers Mate, but I am also playing with a squeal which is just a series of one-shots.

Please let me know what you think!

@threepupsinapuddle @broco8 @introvertedmouse @luxyash @vikingsbifrost @pastelblogsposts @wastingmypotential @whitespring21 @ayamenimthiriel @wonderlandfandomkingdom @shesthelastjedi @fandom-lover-4 @sageandberries-png 

[poutyhannie]

Also, I have no idea whether or not Jeongin is insecure or not (I don’t think he is bc have you seen that boy) but please keep in mind this is a fanfic and not reality.  It’s just really sweet to comfort a significant other.  

warnings: fluffy as jeongin’s hair, college student!jeongin, fem!reader comforting and loving jeongin, showering together

word count: +2k 

part 1, part 2

Wearily walking out of your lecture hall, you sling your burdensome backpack over your aching shoulders and prepare for the twenty minute walk back to your apartment.  It wasn’t unusual for a college junior to have moved from dorms and into an apartment but it was unusual for a college junior to not have a car.  

Because your university was in a densely populated metropolitan area, rent was through the roof.  Though school was easy and you could keep up your GPA with relative ease, ‘adulting’ was currently the most difficult part of living for you.  Taxes, landlords, jobs, and finding out what to eat consumed what little time left that you had.  Though stress and anxiety often left you drowning, you could find comfort in a very special someone.

His bright and cute smile meets you from across the courtyard, despite thousands of students milling about.  You exhale a sigh as relief floods your body.  Merely seeing Jeongin transforms your day.  

He makes his way towards you, dangling his car keys on a pretty little finger, a mischievous smile on his face.  “Did you really think that I would just let you walk alllllll the way home?” Jeongin asks, quirking his eyebrow.  You guys met in an advanced ancient literature class where the then freshman caught your eye.  You told yourself in the beginning that your interest for him was just because of his youth in a class for juniors up.  After all, your counselor didn’t even know if you could keep up with the class as a then sophomore.  But after you two were put together for a project, you quickly came to the truth that Jeongin was just so adorable and you had to squish his cheeks every day.

So you do.  He crinkles his face up and lifts his shoulders, uncomfortable at the public affection but you can tell by the glow in his eyes that he really loves it.  

“Yes,” you respond as you both start walking to the student parking lot, “I was gonna change into tennis shoes, actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jeongin pout a little, readjusting his backpack so you quickly add, “I thought you still have a midterm left so I assumed you were gonna go back to your dorm to study.”

This seems to placate his pout and he turns his body to you, legs walking awkwardly in an attempt to not trip.  “That last midterm was today and I waaaaas going to go back to my dorms but,” he leans closer to you as his calming scent fills your senses, his nose scrunches up in the most adorable way, “I wanted to spend time with you, Y/n.”  

You mask your endeared smile with a scoff and poke his cheek.  Jeongin rolls his eyes walking straight now, seemingly annoyed at you patronizing him, but you know that deep down he loves it.  “That’s good, babyboy.  You wanna sleepover?” You ask, peering intently at him.

He smirks as if that were his plan all along, “I packed clothes for it,” he says, gesturing to his backpack.  Jeongin grabs your hand, surprising you at the bold move, cutely swinging it around before smiling widely at you.  “You’re all finished too, right?  If it’s alright with you, my parent said they’re okay with me staying here over break to study but honestly, I just wanna be with you.”

At that, you can’t contain your smile, looking up to meet his playful gaze.  “Did you tell them that you’ll be staying with me?  Don’t make them pay for dorms if you’re not using it.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his free hand around, “I told them I wanted to stay with you.  You seriously sound like my mom though.”

In mock anger, you slap his chest as he pulls out his keys, laughing.  

The car ride to your apartment is literally five minutes and you’re so thankful that you don’t need to pass that creepy alleyway to get home.  Your apartment is at the top of the building, small, and basically empty other than your books, clothes, and shoes at the front door but its cozy when Jeongin is around.  He runs to your bedroom and jumps on your bed, smiling widely at you.  “What’dya wanna watch, Y/n?  Or we could cook.  Are you hungry?”

Though you intend to fling your backpack far into the closet, you don’t really take into account how freaking heavy it is so it thumps down halfway to its destination.  Groaning, you kick it all the way to the back of your closet and let out a sigh.  Making your way over to the bed, you try to ignore Jeongin’s concerned gaze.

“What’s the matter, Y/n?”  He asks cautiously, laying a big, clumsy but warm hand on your shoulder, “Did I say something?”

Pressing you lips in a firm line, you shake your head, guiltily looking up at Jeongin.  “I’m just really drained from that last midterm and my professor hates me so I really needed to do well so that she’d give me an A so that I can keep up my GPA for my scholarsh—.”

Jeongin presses a light, unsure kiss to your lips, making you lift your eyebrows in surprise.  “I’m sorry, Y/n, do you wanna take a shower to forget?”

A knowing smile spreads across your face at the cheeky boy.  “Now I see why you wanted to sleepover, Innie,” you say, laughing, “Sure, let’s take a shower, babyboy.”

He excitedly jumps up and grabs your hanging towel and and rushes to the bathroom.  Chuckling to yourself at his cute antics, you grab a pair of panties and root through Jeongin’s backpack for his boxers.  You pull out a pale yellow pair that has little green hearts all over them, smiling.  Having Jeongin here really lets you calm down and relax.  He almost alway seems to know what you want and is more than willing to give it to you.  

Almost always.  

After making your way into the bathroom, you’re met with a beautifully bare Jeongin, his faint abs in full view as water flows down his face and over his shoulders.  Seeing you, he covers his stomach with his arms while the hot water steams up the mirrors.  

You tsk your tongue, striping and stepping into the shower.  Gently removing his arms from his stomach, glaring up at him, “No, baby, we’ve talked about how much I love your body.”  

Jeongin’s cheeks fill with blush and it spreads down his neck.  He doesn’t look at you.  “I know, it’s just-I’ve seen your ex around campus gym and it just makes me a bit insecure sometimes, ya know?”

Sighing, you pump body wash onto your hands and begin stroking Jeongin’s wet arms, trailing up and down and into his collarbones, down his chest before resting your palms flat on his stomach.  “Look at me, babyboy,” you whisper, gazing softly up at him through the water.  Eventually, his wandering gaze finds yours and you tilt your head to the side, smiling up at him.  It breaks you to see how sad his eyes are though he wraps his arms around you.  “I don’t care about my ex.  I broke up with him for a reason.  You know what that was, Innnie?”

He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to hold back his emotions.

“It was because he was a fucking bastard.  I thought he was a genuinely good person but I was just wrong; he just wanted me for my body.  But you,” You tap his chest, “you’re a good person.  You’re so caring and considerate and not just to me.  You put your classmates and teachers first and everything around you feels your love, baby.  I fucking love you and it really doesn’t matter to me if you have something as silly as abs or not.”

The earnestness in Jeongin’s puppy eyes breaks you.  

“Plus,” you add, smiling, “I really do like your body.”

With that, Jeongin lets go into a wide, beautifully untamed smile, burying his face into your shoulder.  You’re not really sure if all of the wetness is from the shower.  Placing one hand on his head, running your fingers through his scalp, the other hand pumps some shampoo.  Gently, you begin massaging it into his hair.  He doesn’t lift his head.

“Babyboy,” you whisper, “you’re gonna get soap in your eyes like that.”

He begrudgingly lifts his head, a full, adorable pout gracing his lips.  You can’t help yourself; you press a delicate kiss on them.  Rinsing out his hair, Jeongin starts soaping you up to, smiling in spite of himself.  “Thanks, Y/n.  I really,” he sighs deeply, “I really needed to hear that.”

Closing your eyes, you let the feeling of Jeongin’s fingers in your hair take over your senses.  “Is that why you were acting so cute today?”  You ask, cracking one eye open to see his reaction.  

Jeongin flushes deeply, “No,” he denies, bashfully looking down, only to look back up quickly.

You smile, knowing the reason for his flighty gaze.  “Innie, you’ve seen me naked before, why are you like this?”

“I dunno,” he says, a dumb smile on his face, “You’re just really pretty that’s why.  And I was acting ‘cute’ because I was excited to be with you.”

You let out a groan at his overwhelming cuteness and nuzzle your nose against his.  “Lets finish up and cuddle, yeah?  How does that sound to my babyboy?”

Jeongin’s shaky breath fans over your face, “Actually,” he starts, causing your gaze to snap up at him, “I was wondering if we could…You know…”.  He trails off, averting his gaze.

A smirk spreads across your face but you quickly shoo it away in favor of a mock concerned expression.  “What do you mean, sweetie? I don’t understand what you want, babyboy.”

Jeongin's blush blooms from his neck up and spreads to the tips of his ears like a wildfire.  You know exactly what this brat wants and are willing to wait until he confesses.  “No-no.  Its okay, Y/n.  You’re right lets just cuddle.”

You roll your eyes, stepping out of the shower to towel off.  

You’re just in Jeongin’s sweatshirt and he’s in one of your shirts, sprawled out on top of you, his cheeks squished against your boobs.  He knows what he wants and he knows you know but this bashful baby won’t say anything.  Sighing, you sit up, causing Jeongin to roll off you, looking up at you wide-eyed.  Maybe you won’t wait till he admits it.

“I am fucking sick and tired of you acting like this, baby.”

The panicked puppy-eyes Jeongin gives you is almost too much to keep your angry act up but you push on.  “What were you gonna say in the shower, huh?  What was my babyboy wondering if we could do?”

Realization floods your baby’s eyes and his face turns red once again.  Knowing he won’t get out of it now, he stutters, “I-I just wanted—I was wondering if we could…You know, since we’re both done with school for now and we’re alone…Like-would you be okay with or do you want to…to like I dunno…make love?”  He coughs loudly, covering his face with a hand that you have to pry away.

“See, Kitten?” You murmur, voice dark.  Jeongin’s pupils blow out at the petname, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He shakes his head softly and you reach up to gently stroke his blushing ears.  “Okay, Innie, when I come back, I expect you stripped and kneeling on the bed.  Can you do that for me, Kitten?”

Jeongin gulps and nods vigorously, scrambling to get hisyour shirt off.  “Can I please touch myself?” He begs, his pretty eyes wide and glossy.  Your stomach burns at the thought of your pretty little baby stroking himself and you nod, “Just no cumming.  I know you want to be good for me.”  Jeongin whimpers and nods.  You smirk and leave the room, leaving him to obey you.

[kiatheinsomniac]

When the Party’s Over: Ezio M! AU

Part I here

When (Y/n) woke up, she and Ezio were still cuddled up together but he was awake and scrolling through his phone. She wasn't quite aware of her surroundings yet in her sleep-clouded mind as she turned over onto her other side, letting out a few soft moans. What brought her to her senses were two things: the arm that tightened around her waist and the heat that warmed her back.

Her (e/c) eyes burst open and she laid still, looking down. She was still wearing Ezio's shirt (though it had ridden up past her hips) and his arms were wrapped around her waist — the one that went over her was the one that he held his phone with. He was scrolling through stories of his party.

Her heart began beating quickly again — she'd never been this close to anyone before, let alone someone she'd hardly ever spoken to. She felt his low hum vibrate through his chest as he dropped his phone to hold her closer to him, his face being buried in her sweetly smelling hair.

"Buongiorno, (Y/n)." He spoke with a husky and sleepy tone. Usually, after waking up with a girl, he'd be calling them pet names, kissing their neck or shoulders and running his hands over their hips and thighs, as per his friendly/touchy nature. But he didn't want to make his new guest uncomfortable — they'd slept in the same bed, not fucked. They hadn't known each other for very long and he thought it inappropriate to try something on her after seeing how he found her last night. She shyly turned her head to glance at him from the corners of her eyes.

"Morning." She mumbled as she continued to lay in his embrace.

"I'll chase everyone out in a minute then I can make you something to eat." He spoke as he slowly peeled his arms away from her waist to sit up and stretch. (Y/n) turned onto her back to watch how his muscles flexed with the movement; and damn did he have muscles.

"It's ok, really," She spoke politely as he stood up, "I'll start walking home and I'll grab a coffee and a pastry on the way there or something."

"No, no," He spoke as he grabbed a jumper from his closet, throwing it over his head, "I insist." Really, in his mind, this was his time to get to know her, to win her over if he wanted her. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

(Y/n) sat in his bed a while longer before deciding to stretch and get up. She checked her phone but all of the messages were from Anne, Mary and Aya asking if she had stayed at Ezio's with Kassandra. Looks like she did pass out after arm wrestling then.

The (h/c)-haired female placed her phone down before deciding to walk around Ezio's room a little. She was intrigued by all of the Polaroid photos that he had in a grid on the wall above his desk. The (e/c)-eyed young woman leaned over the desk to investigate. A lot of them were clearly taken in Italy — many of them with who she assumed were his little sister and his mother. A lot of others were at parties or on days out with large groups of friends.

(Y/n) left the desk to wander over to his bookshelf. Her face lit up at the main genres — historical non-fiction and Victorian literature. She plucked up his copy of Wuthering Heights in her fingers, having read the book herself and began flipping through the pages. She stopped where he had boxed a quote in pencil and written why he liked it in the margin. She beamed a smile because she did that with her books too. She began flipping through the page numbers to see if he had liked any of the ones that she had too.

When the Italian male returned, she was still flipping through the book and she looked up to meet his gaze before putting the novel back in its place shyly.

"Sorry," she apologised, feeling like she may have invaded his privacy, "it's just: I really like books like these too and it's nice to see someone else that annotates them — I love doing that." She smiled softly. She couldn't lie, looking over Ezio, she wouldn't take him for a reader.

"Really?" He flashed a grin. "We'll have to talk about our favourites later then." He sat down on the bed and beckoned her to sit with him. She sat on the edge and he placed what was in his hand beside him. A packet of makeup wipes. "Do you mind if I. . . ? I mean, it's smudged all over your face." (Y/n) smiled at his generous nature but scrunched up her nose a little.

"Ok but at your own risk." She giggled, "I look nowhere near as good without makeup."

"I'm sure that's not true." He spoke softly as he took her chin in his hand and she closed her eyes. He gently began wiping away her eye makeup, being soft as he cupped her jaw with his large hand. He moved on to getting all the highlight and crumbled mascara off her cheeks before gently swiping her highlight off her nose, making her giggle, leaving her skin free of any cosmetics.

Once he was done, she opened her eyes and tilted her head to the side. Ezio smiled at her as a warmth filled him. God, she looked so cute.

"Told you so." She joked as she got up again. She reached up to take the pins out of her hair, her back facing him. The olive-skinned male couldn't help but watch as her stretching her arms up caused the shirt to lift, giving him a nice view of her thighs and a tiny amount of her ass. But her body was hidden once more when she raked her fingers through her hair and tied her locks up into a ponytail, yesterday's curls beginning to loosen.

"You are just as beautiful without makeup on, though." Ezio complimented. (Y/n) turned over her shoulder to raise a brow at him as she pulled a few hairs out of the ponytail by her ears and temples.

"Sicuro." She hummed sarcastically. Ezio smiled at that.

"I mean it: you're naturally pretty without it and supernaturally pretty with it." That caused her to duck her head away to hide her smile in her palm as her cheeks flushed with heat. She wondered if he was aware of how charming he was. "Come on, let's get something to eat." He led her downstairs once she'd grabbed her phone.

"Wow." (Y/n) puffed out as she looked around the house, "This is a mess."

"My least favourite part of parties: the cleanup." He sighed as he led her to the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the counter for her. She uttered a small thank you before taking a seat. "I was thinking about having some toast, is there anything you want?" He questioned.

"I'll just have some fruit and yoghurt but it's ok, I'll make it myself." She spoke politely.

"No, no, I'll do it. You're a guest here after all." He waved her off. She blushed gently. The two of them sat there eating their breakfast and he had tried to take her bowl for her but she insisted on putting it in the dishwasher herself.

"Do you want a hand with cleaning up?" She offered. Usually, he would decline considering he was trying to win her over but there was a lot to cover and he would appreciate an extra pair of hands.

"If you wouldn't mind. . . ?" He spread his hands and smiled somewhat guiltily.

"Where do you keep the cleaning products?" She smiled as she bounced off the chair and onto her feet. He went over to the cupboard under the sink and opened it. Meanwhile, (Y/n) tapped shuffle on a playlist on her phone and reached under the sink for two rubbish bags. She handed one to him and the two of them began picking up bottles and plastic cups that were littered all over the house.

"So, how often do you throw parties like this?" She quizzed as she chucked cup after cup into the bag, weary to not touch the rims where mouths had been.

"As often as possible. Usually whenever my mother's gone. Claudia used to sit in her room while I threw parties but once a drunk couple jumped on her while she was in her bed so she stays in my room now and upstairs is usually off limits." He paused for a moment, "But if you ever want to show up to one of my parties again, you'll always be an exception to that rule." He winked at her. She rolled her eyes playfully.

"I doubt I'll be coming here again, really." She laughed lightly. Ezio's face dropped sadly.

"Why not?" He tried to stop himself from looking upset about this but failed to chase the sadness from his tone.

"What other reason would I have to come here? And you saw what parties do to me." She shrugged, "I wish that I could enjoy them like everyone else, I really do, but I just can't."

"Who said you had to come here just for the parties?" He proposed. She paused for a moment, standing upright and looking at him from across the room now that there were no more bottles, bottle caps or cups in sight.

"Are you inviting me around to stay another time?" She raised a brow. The Italian tossed his head around a bit, cracking a smile with the faintest of blushes on his cheeks.

"Perhaps. I mean, only if you wanted to." He never usually felt flustered but there was something about the excitement of getting to truly know her that got to him.

"Maybe I do." She spoke softly, turning away to hide her own blush that was a prominent red against her (s/t) cheeks. Ezio smiled triumphantly at this as she walked into the next room to pick up all the litter. He followed her, not being able to help but admire the sway of her hips as she moved in his shirt, nor could he seem to take his eyes away when she bent over to pick up a water bottle from the floor, the shirt riding up and only just covering her assets. He forced himself to look away from her (b/t) body and help her to tidy up. The music stopped playing from her phone as she got a call from Kassandra. She declined the call and put her phone on do not disturb.

Ezio raised his brow at this but (Y/n) merely shrugged her shoulders.

"I'll let them know where I am in a bit. Was Kassandra still here this morning?" The (e/c)-eyed student asked.

"Sì, I told her that you were upstairs but I'm not sure if she was listening." He spoke honestly.

"Sounds like Kass." (Y/n) giggled to herself.

Once the two of them were done and had swept and mopped up anything as well as having tidied the furniture, they sat down on the couch together.

"—Really though, if you like learning about the Borgia and Medici, you'll love to read Machiavelli's The Prince." He spoke. (Y/n) tilted her head back on the sofa as she looked at him.

"I'll have to borrow your copy then." She smiled as she leaned into him. Ezio wrapped an arm around her cautiously before realising she was melting into his embrace. The two of them laid there cuddling while watching movies for the rest of the day.

—————

They were interrupted when Ezio's family returned home. (Y/n) went to sit upright in order to avoid an awkward situation but Ezio gently eased her back into his side, silently assuring her that it would be alright. Ezio's younger sister walked around the sofa to get a better look at the unfamiliar young woman in her house who was cuddled into her big brother - nothing out of the ordinary - but Claudia wanted to meet the (e/c)-eyed female anyway.

"Who's this?" The olive-skinned sister raised a brow, smiling cheekily, shooting her brother a questioning glare as to what they had done after observing that (Y/n) was wearing one of his shirts and seemingly little else underneath.

"Claudia, this is (Y/n); (Y/n), this is my little sister Claudia." The Italian male introduced the two young women to one another.

"It's nice to meet you, Claudia." (Y/n) smiled politely, subtly reaching for Ezio's hand out of comfort of having to try to act so casually when, on the inside, she was panicking about leaving a terrible impression that she would never be able to shake off.

"Did he throw another party?" The chestnut-haired female crossed her arms, looking at her brother smugly. (Y/n) shyly smiled, lowering her voice before answering:

"He did, that's how I ended up staying. Oh, and don't worry, I was the only person who went into your room. But that's just because parties make me uncomfortable. Can I be forgiven for that?" She spoke lightly. The young Auditore laughed, waving it off with her hand.

"Of course." She smiled before glaring ever so slightly at the (h/c)-haired female who cuddled closer into her brother for comfort, finding a sense of security in his warmth and touch. "Providing you're not going to be like the other girlfriends he's had." She added with an edge of bitterness to her tone.

"Claudia. . ." Ezio spoke up warningly, not wanting his sister to make their guest worry.

"Oh, we're not. . .Uh. . . We don't. . ." (Y/n) stuttered at the miscommunication - she'd only really spoken to him that night! They knew of each other beforehand, yes, but they had never spoken before he found her in a state upstairs.

"Oh?" Claudia raised a brow and opened her mouth to speak but Ezio threw a pillow at her, keeping his other arm around (Y/n)'s waist.

"Vaffanculo, Claudia! I see what you're doing!" He exclaimed, making his younger sister giggle devilishly.

"Oh, Ezio may seem like a flirt but he's actually-" She tried to continue.

"Zitta!" He exclaimed before jumping up, ready to tackle her - as would be the natural reaction of any sibling.

"He's spoken about y-" She continued, shrieking as she jumped over the sofa to avoid her brother who was chasing her.

"Ezio! Leave your sister alone!" An older woman's voice snapped. Claudia looked smug as she halted and straightened her back. (Y/n) grabbed a blanket to cover her lap with due to the fact that she didn't fancy being so exposed in front of his mother - especially seeing as it was their first time meeting. "Oh, hello." She greeted.

"Hello." (Y/n) smiled and waved politely over to Ezio's mother. "I'm (Y/n), how are you?"

"I'm quite surprised, in all honesty." She turned to her son, "Ezio did you throw a party?"

"No, mother." He lied quickly.

"He didn't, he just offered to help me with my Italian class project and I ended up staying the night." She covered up for him. She didn't like lying to Maria but she didn't want to lose Ezio's favour either. Ezio smiled happily at her before returning to his place beside her. (Y/n) leaned towards him, "I'm going to get dressed and head back." She spoke quietly before making her way back to his room. Claudia dropped into an armchair.

"So," She began, "This is the famous '(Y/n)'." She smirked, "It's nice to see you actually spoke to her after how many weeks of crushing on  her and stalking her Instagram?"

"Shh!" Ezio hushed his sister in case the (h/c)-haired female upstairs heard her, "And it's not stalking!"

"Oh, sicuro; but, you need to get her to fall in love with you, Fratello." She winked, "Doubtless, I'll be hearing about her even more now."

"Don't do anything to make her uncomfortable, ok? She wasn't just crying when I found her last night, she was having an anxiety attack - I didn't know that about her. I let her stay the night and she seems comfortable around me. I don't want to ruin that." He explained. While the Auditore siblings were often teasing one another, they still confided in each other.

"Alright then. But whoa, there's something about her that you didn't know?" She mocked a shocked face, "Oh, and she was wearing your shirt, did you-"

"No!" Ezio exclaimed, "Wouldn't I be taking advantage of her if I did that after the way I found her?"

"Fair point." Claudia replied before standing up and clapping her brother on the shoulder, "Well, good luck with getting her." And with that (Y/n) returned to say her goodbyes and leave.

She already missed Ezio's warmth and he missed the feeling of holding her.

[bluejeanlouis]

COMING SOON: The Yellow Roof, 1970s AU by kiddle

Louis is a gifted musician spending his days on the wrong side of a drive-thru window. Harry is the lead singer of a band in need of a little talent. Their big break is a thousand miles away. 

Preview under the cut:

With a deep sigh, Louis leaned his chair on its back two legs, propping one of his feet up next to the till in front of him. The sun was blinding between the trees of the neighbourhood across the street, striking his eyes through the drive-thru window. He yanked the blind closed even though he wasn’t supposed to when the Fotomat was open. But there was no one around and his ability to give a shit had decreased significantly today. Slurping on the can of Coke he brought with him, he pulled out his lyric book.

Louis was not a poet. In fact, the pretentious and dull poetry class he took in his second semester at college was detrimental in his decision to drop out a year later. He didn’t like the confusion of poetry and the rules despite being an art form that claimed to be free of them. Don’t get him wrong, he was confident in his own writing, he just didn’t want to be taught how to do it.

But one look under the cover of that notebook would reveal pages and pages of poetic garbage. Some of it was great, and a couple had even ended up as actual songs back when Louis was performing solo at bars before he gave up on that too. Most of it was scribbled chicken scratch. That was just his process.

He held the notebook against his knees, tracing dark lines across the last words he wrote last night with his pen. It was some bullshit angsty heartbreak harnessed from his high school first love mixed with the anger of being sacked from a band that he was the best instrumentalist in. Sometimes that kind of emotion makes for a perfect writing session, and sometimes it’s a diary entry you never want to see the light of day.

Louis bit the end of his pen, rereading the words on his page. ‘Heart’ had to be the most overused word in love songs, and he had it down in every verse and the chorus. Love songs weren’t even what he wanted to write about. It wasn’t the only feeling out there. It sure as hell wasn’t the most predominant one in his mind.

A loud and abrupt knock on the window made Louis nearly leap out of his seat. His notebook and pen tumbled to the ground as he dropped his feet from the desk. He yanked on the string to make the blind spring back up, knocking his Coke over in the process. He picked it up just as quick, groaning at the mess it made. All the commotion caused the stack of pickup envelopes next to the widow to splay out over the desk in front of him. Now that the customer could see him, he tried to push him all out of the way before he slid the window open.

“Hi, welcome to— Shit!”

One of the envelopes had landed in the small puddle of spilled Coke. He tried to wipe it off on his jeans as quickly as he could before returning it to the scattered pile with the others. Once he finally composed himself, he tried to greet the customer properly.

But then his face fell to disgust.

“What are you doing here?”

“You left so quickly yesterday, we didn’t have the chance to talk,” said Harry, the lead singer of Louis’ former going-nowhere band. Harry had one hand casually rested on the steering wheel, the other elbow poking out the window, and sunglasses sitting low on his nose. Louis hated how effortlessly cool he could always look. It made him the perfect goddamn lead singer.

Louis rolled his eyes. “What did you want me to do? Beg for you to let me stay? ‘You’re out of the band’ was pretty loud and clear.”

“I mean, I thought we could have a discussion about it.”

“So you showed up to my work to have a discussion about it?” He hunched over so just his head was sticking out the window, his fist squished into his cheek to hold his head up.

“You wouldn’t answer the phone last night.”

“Take a hint,” he snapped, then slid the window shut with enough force to make it bounce halfway open again. He pushed it the rest of the way closed in a huff.

But Harry hadn’t driven away yet, so Louis slumped over in his chair and refused to look in his direction. Why the hell would he show up here? Just to rub it in his face? The new guy always loses the band argument. Louis was over it, and he had the faint remnants of a hangover to prove it.

He took a swig of his Coke that was now almost empty. No one ever left any napkins around here, but a few tissues seemed to do the trick to sop up that puddle. As he tried to avoid getting sticky hands, Louis could see Harry getting out of his car in the bottom corner of his eye. Then he heard the window opening again.

“Louis, listen to me,” Harry pressed. He had his hand in the way so Louis couldn’t shut it, but it did cross Louis’ mind to crush his fingers just to get him out of here.

“Go away,” he stated, pulling the roller blind between them. If only it was soundproof.

The blind sprung up again, revealing a wildly frustrated Harry on one side and an indifferent Louis on the other. He was pretending to read a copy of Vogue that one of the girls from the after-school shift left behind last night.

“We have a meeting with a record company in L.A. and they’re expecting a four-piece to show up. There’s no time to find a new bassist, so you’re back in the band.”

Louis folded down one corner and peeked his eye over Carrie Fisher’s head.

“How’d you get a meeting? The band sucks.”

Harry stared at him, angrily chewing on his lip, then turned around with a huff. “Fuck you,” he muttered, opening his car door.

Louis waited for him to start the engine and leave, but then the words “L.A.” and “record company” flashed with lights and sirens in his mind, and he imagined this opportunity driving off and never looking back.

“Wait!” Louis called out, tossing the magazine to the side and launching himself out the back door. He ran across the front of the car and slammed his hands on the hood so Harry couldn’t move the car an inch further. They eyed each other, and when Louis trusted that Harry wouldn’t speed off the moment he moved, Louis ran around to the passenger seat and got in.

Harry shook his head, both hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for ten years, man,” he said.

So maybe Louis wasn’t being totally truthful about what happened with the band.

Louis met Harry in his first year of middle school. They ended up in the same gym class, which was hell for every twelve-year-old, but for people like Louis and Harry, it was just a little too much to bear. They found skillful ways to ditch whenever possible, especially when it came to running the mile. Sometimes they’d hang out near the back of the group when everyone was filling out the gym doors, then slip out the side and circle the building before the teacher saw. The equipment closet was full of plenty of hiding spaces that begged to be taken advantage of. The best days were when they had a substitute who wouldn’t even notice that they never came back from a bathroom break in the change room.

In high school, they drifted, hanging out in the same group of freaks and burnouts, but not often with each other. They’d find themselves at the same parties and bickering in the same cars full of friends, but that initial bond had faded. Once college rolled around, they weren’t surprised to find out they’d be going to the same state school, but discovering their dorms were across the hall from each other was quite the shock.

They had become inseparable again, except for the inevitable monthly fights that left them not speaking to each other for days at a time. That went on for about two years until Louis dropped out and Harry continued with his literature degree. During that time, they hardly saw each other at all. Louis began to wonder if their friendship had only ever been one of convenience. But just as the year of 1972 was beginning, Louis got a phone call from that on-and-off best friend of his asking if he wanted to join his band.  

Harry and Louis fought from day one, but just as much as they hated each other’s guts, they loved each other too. Louis would still consider Harry his friend, but he would have no problem telling him what an insufferable bastard he was right to his face. It was a brotherly bond. Sort of.

“How’d you get the meeting?” Louis asked, turning sideways in his seat. “When is it?”

“We sent in our demo and they want to talk to us. That’s it,” he said. “The meeting is next week and they want all of us there.”

“Me included?”

“You’re on the demo.”

The demo was pretty shit if you asked Louis, but he decided to keep that to himself. They recorded it at their old college in the crummy basement studio run by students, and you could guess that by the first listen. Louis looked out at the empty parking lot ahead of them. He had memorized every detail of this parking lot. It had become the scenery for his life. He couldn’t wait until he never had to look at it again.

“Do you actually want me back in the band?” Louis wondered, sincerity in his voice for once.

“I—” Harry started, but didn’t look him in the eye. “I want to be at a place where you could be in the band without the two of us constantly at each other’s necks.”

“That would be nice, yeah,” Louis sighed.

They sat in silence, Louis weighing his options and Harry wondering if he really should’ve taken that ignored phone call as a hint.

“So, what, is this to discuss an album deal?” Louis asked, hoping more detail might help his decision.

“It’s to discuss our potential. They didn’t tell me a whole lot, but if they want to spend their time on us then they gotta have some hope.”

A car horn blared loudly behind them, an impatient customer waiting his turn to desperately develop the photos from his five-year-old’s birthday party, surely. It startled them, but that was Louis’ cue to get back to work, he supposed.

“Can I think about it?” Louis asked. He was already halfway out the door.

“Not for too long. We meet them next week.”

The horn blared again.

“One second!” Louis called out. The guy in the car flipped him the bird and Louis wasn’t hesitant to send him one right back.

“What’s the label?”

“CBS,” Harry said.

Shit, Louis thought. CBS was no joke.

“Move your fucking car!” the guy behind them hollered out his window.

Harry glanced at the angry face in his rear-view mirror, then ignored it completely. Louis looked like he was about to leave, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. “Before you go, take this.” He dropped a roll of film into Louis’ open palm.

Louis looked at it curiously, his other hand on the door handle. “What’s this?”

Harry laughed. “Photos I need to get developed. This is a Fotomat, is it not?”

“It is,” Louis said slowly.

“I’ll be back in twenty-four hours,” Harry said, plucking his sunglasses off the dash and sliding them onto his face. “For those photos and for an answer.”

[dontshootmespence]

Random Chance

Summary: Y/N yields to peer pressure and Spencer loses a bet. Did fate bring them together or was it random chance?

Words: 1,689

Warnings: Gross fluff.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo​ 2020! This fulfills my meet cute square.

This was the fifth outfit change.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You screamed, glancing into the mirror before ripping off your shirt and pants for a sixth outfit. “Speed dating? Fuck my life. This is peer pressure. You suck.”

Under pressure, filled with nervous tension, you tended to run your mouth, and right now Piper was at the opposing end of your razor sharp sword. But she still had a smile on her face. “You need to get out there and you won’t do it yourself, so I had to push you,” she laughed, pushing passed the mountain of packed boxes and pulling one of your favorite dresses out of the closet. 

“A dress? Really? For speed dating?”

Dating sucked. It was the most horrible thing ever. All you wanted was to fall into the perfect relationship and then cuddle on the couch. Was that so much to ask? 

Piper laughed and stood behind you, holding the dress over your body. “Yes, it’s not an evening gown or anything. And it’s you. Just because you’re going speed dating doesn’t mean the guys you meet shouldn’t see exactly who you are.”

As much of a pain in the ass as she was, Piper was still your bestie, since you were in diapers. And she wanted the best for you. She’d pulled out your Harry Potter dress, the one with the first chapter’s words written all over. “Pair that with your cute red flats and the guys will be falling over themselves to get to you and the ones that don’t are stupid.”

You snorted and stepped into the flats, taking yet another glance into the dreaded mirror. “You know you couldn’t have picked a worse time for me to go speed dating,” you said, finally content with your outfit. Within the week, you’d be moving and starting a new job at the local community college. “Next week, dude.”

“Life’s too short to wait,” she said, playfully smacking your butt. “Plus, at least it’s at that kitschy bookstore you love. Now go take a nice relaxing walk and breathe. You’ll be fine. I gotta go to work.”

“Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” you call, hearing the thud of the heavy apartment door close behind her.

After grabbing your red sweater, you headed down the stairs, locking the door behind you. The bookstore was only a few blocks away and it was a beautiful day out, so you decided to take advantage of the sunny weather.

A breeze brushes through your hair as you walk and the sun beats down on your skin. There are a few other people around, but mostly people are at work. You would be too if it weren’t for the whole “new job, new place, new life” kick you were on. Decided to take a few weeks off before starting your new job. 

The entrance to the Old Fox bookstore was as obnoxious as could be, at least when compared to the rest of the stores on the block. The door was painted a bright red, but it was somewhat worn by age. The store opened up during the 60s and it was still just as popular today.

Like the three bears, the store wasn’t a giant chain or a teeny tiny hole in the wall, it was just right. The walls were a muted turquoise, which you’d alway loved. Everyone seemed to think that neutral was the way to go but you’d always been a fan of in your face color - at least after your goth teen years. 

Noise filled the air - not normal for this place - it was always on quiet side, but given the event you weren’t surprised. Seemed to be an equal amount of men and women, which made you feel a little better, not wanting to be outnumbered.

Since there was still a little time to waste before everything started, you figured there wasn’t any harm in looking for another book or two...or five. One of the first things you planned to put up in your new apartment was this scratch-off list, kind of like a lottery ticket, the listed nearly 200 classics. You'd read a lot of them before, but there were still some that you hadn’t, so maybe you could find one and pick it up before the nausea-inducing speed dating began. 

After reading Good Omens, you’d been hankering for another Neil Gaiman book, so you slithered between the masses in the store toward the section in question. American Gods, Anansi Boys, Eternity’s Wheel, you weren’t sure which one to pick. 

All - all was a good choice, right?

The colorful spines of the books called out to you, another one of Gaiman’s works. Your hand crawled along the edges of the nearby books, your hand just brushing up against someone else’s as you reached for The Graveyard Book. “Oh, sorry,” you said, staring up into the face of a beautiful stranger. He was thin and tall with delicate features, but he had a sharp jaw and deep set hazel eyes that were complemented by wavy brown hair. “I’m apparently on a Gaiman binge. Have you read any of his stuff before?”

“Yea,” he replied, eyeing the stack of books already in your hand. “American Gods, Good Omens and Eternity’s Wheel. I tend to read textbooks most of the time, but I’ve been told I should delve into more fun reading, so-”

He cut himself off and took the book off the shelf, offering it to you. “You saw it first.” Aw, gallant, too. “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand. “What brings you here? You live around here?”

Spencer glanced toward the tables set up for speed dating. “No, actually I lost a bet to two friends of mine and if I lost I had to go speed dating. Can’t say I’m all that comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” you laughed. “My friend Piper peer pressured me into it. I don’t drink but somehow she got me to agree to this.”

The owner of the store gave a five minute warning that speed dating was about to start. “So how long will it take you to read those?” He shifted on the balls of his feet, probably nervous, which you understood. 

“Well, I have a few weeks off while I move apartments and start a new job, so these...probably four, five days.” You laughed, feeling every inch the nerd you were. “Been an avid reader since I was a kid. Why do you read textbooks though? Fiction is so much more fun.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute and I’m always trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. Helps with the work I do.”

“Which is?” He was cute and intriguing.

“I’m an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

And smart. Shit. There had to be something wrong with him. Dream guys like this didn’t grow on trees. “Impressive, Spencer. What’s your background in?”

He looked down at the ground, almost like he was embarrassed, speaking softly. “I have BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy, as well as PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. Really smart. Like stupid smart. “That’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” How could that not be amazing? “Why?”

“It’s just that people normally think I’m a freak for having so many.” 

You wanted to punch whoever made him feel that way. “Definitely not a freak, just insanely impressive considering you’re so young.” He couldn’t have been much older than you. Maybe five years at the most.

“I started college when I was 12.”

As the owner called out to start the most awkward dating experience known to man, you turned to Spencer. “Hey, would you maybe want to get out of here? Go grab a cup of coffee? I mean, we both had friends insist we come here, but we never said we actually had to go through with it.”

Tension fell from his shoulders, like he could finally be at ease. “I’d like that. I’m really not good at this whole date thing,” he said nervously. “Just a heads up.”

Both of you shuffled over to the register, so you could pay for your books. “Neither am I, don’t worry. I’d prefer to just magically be in a relationship and not have to work for it, you know?”

“Absolutely, so Y/N, what do you do for a living? What’s the new job?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, well not embarrassed, intimidated. “It’s definitely not as fancy as FBI profiler. I have my master’s degree in English literature. I’m going for a PhD too, but to pay for the half of my doctorate that scholarship won’t, I’m teaching. First, it was an online course through a University in New Hampshire where I’d travel occasionally, even though I live her, but now I got a job at the local community college.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. “What’s the focus on your thesis?”

So few people asked you that. Most people’s eyes glazed over when you talked about books. Everyone except your mom. “Analyzing Othello through the lends of racism as it relates to the Elizabethan period.”

After handing the cashier your money, you and Spencer walked out together, talking about your favorite Shakespeare plays, when he bumped into someone. A muscular, equally tall black guy. “Hey, kid. Funny meeting you here. Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling your end of the deal? You lose, you speed date?”

He was one of Spencer’s friends. That much was obvious. But Spencer looked 1001% done with his bullshit - whatever it was. “Y/N, this is my friend Derek Morgan. We work together at the FBI. Morgan, this is Y/N.”

“Well, hello, Y/N.” A charmer. 

“Good to meet you,” you replied on a laugh. “Technically, he didn’t go speed dating. Neither did I and I promised my friend Piper I would, but...he is leaving with a date.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand, a jolt of something awesome moving through you at his touch. “We’re going for a cup of coffee now actually.”

“Yea, so as you see, I’m the one busy with a woman right now.” Morgan seemed quite the ladies man and Spencer looked mighty proud of himself right now. “See you tomorrow at work?”

“See you tomorrow,” Morgan replied, a note of surprise in his voice. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

“You too. I sense we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

When you both walked away, you pulled The Graveyard Book out of your bag and handed it to Spencer. “You read this first. I think this date might go pretty well, but if you have this, then you have to return it to me and I’m guaranteed to see you again.”

Spencer smiled, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’ll have to thank Morgan for being a pain in my ass.”

“So, you lost a bet?”

“Yea, he bet I couldn’t go a day without spouting statistics and I lost. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Piper just peer pressured me. Guess I’ll have to thank her too.”

The strong, heady scent of coffee began to fill your nostrils as you approached the cafe. When he opened the door, he seemed to finally catch a glimpse of your dress. “Wait, is that the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on your dress?”

“Yup. I’m a Slytherin by the way.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t need a guarantee to see me again, as long as you want to, I think I’m smitten.”

Piper was going to get a big hug later. Maybe dinner. And lots of wine.

[xfanfics]

Destiel Fic Rec List Part 2

Last Updated in October 2014. Posted in May 2020 for posterity.  Listed in no particular order - the total rec list will have ~250 fics. Header graphic used with permission.

This part of the list contains: 35 fics.

Other Destiel Rec Lists: [1]. [2]. [3]. [4]. [5]. [6]. [7].

—–

Kiss and Make it Better by annehiggins E | 9k

Both the forces of Heaven and Hell are after Dean and Castiel, but sometimes a kiss really does make it all better.

Sweet little loving and bonding fic.    

Retreat into Silence by annehiggins E | 16k | Fluff,  Angst,  Alt!Canon

Written for this prompt by deceptivechasm on the no longer exists LJ simon_says_dean: “Something very traumatic happens to Dean while he's with Sam (or Sam was away) which causes him to stop talking, *again*. Sam didn't know about the first time, and has to ask Bobby (or John) about what happened after his mum died.”

Sweet, adorable, and really schmoopy with added angst.    

I Know What You Like by JinxedAmbitions E | 4k | Pornstar AU, Bottom!Cas

Castiel agrees to help Gabriel out by being a production assistant at his porn company. However, when porn star Dean Winchester comes onto him on set, who is Cas to say no, especially when Dean seems to know all the things that turn Cas on most?

Hnnnghgggg.    

Consort by Valyria E | 139k [WIP] | Angst,  Medieval AU, bottom!dean

When King John of the West Saxons forms an alliance with a neighboring Christian kingdom, his eldest son Dean ends up playing a role he never expected.

Valyria's fabulous (currently WIP) Medieval AU is a must-read. Definitely a slow burn fic--includes very bad/painful sex, but with a great payoff.

What Was Lost Still Leaves Its Mark by shieldmaiden_of_celestial_intent E | 4k | Hot, Alt!Canon, Sub!Cas, Demon!Dean, Dom!Dean, Praise Kink

Demon Dean captures Castiel and tries to force him to play out a few of his fantasies. Cas soon finds himself willing because Dean still retains some of the good qualities of his human life. It starts out with dubious consent but consent is given later. There is a confrontation where Dean makes Cas strip. If you love Dean's panty kink this figures prominently. This is from Cas' POV and gets romantic and hopeful toward the end. This is canon compliant up to the season 9 finale. Castiel is powered down and has human drives like sex and sleep. Dean dominates him but does not hurt him.

I'm not usually a huge fan of subby!cas because it usually feels ooc to me, but this is. I'm. This is just... Yes. Really hot. Warning for dubious consent at the beginning.    

Words with Friends by betty days E | 22k | Human AU, Sub!Dean, Dom!Cas, BDSM |

"Dean Winchester is as straight as an arrow. He’s a lady’s man of epic proportions: the king of the one night stand, the messiah of the friends with benefits paradigm, the emperor of perpetual bachelorhood. Except, apparently, when it comes to his best friend, Castiel Novak. Wherein a longstanding acquaintanceship leads to friendship, then best friendship, then sexting, then dirty talk, then mutual masturbation, then, inevitably, fucking.

Smoking hot and full of feels.  

Little Motels by Lovely_Phrase E | 238k | Human AU

After John's death, Dean must travel to California to find his estranged brother and deliver the bad news. He takes Castiel with him, despite the newness of their relationship, and finds himself falling in love while staying in a series of little motels. What he discovers after arriving at Stanford is enough to destroy what's left of him, but Dean isn't willing to give up what they have together that easily.

Wow. This was RIDICULOUSLY long and I can't really believe I finished it. Regardless of the intimidating length (heh), it was a captivating story. Though it edged near soap opera levels of drama at times, the plot was sure, the characters grew and developed, and the writing was excellent. Very good read--highly recommended. Perhaps not for the sensitive (in regards to Drugs or abuse). Also not for john!stans.  

Dragon Healing for Pleasure and Profit by whelvenwings G | 6K | Fluff, Wizarding World AU, wizard!dean

When Cas, a zoologist and aspiring author, moves into the house next door, Dean can't help but go over and say hi. He hadn't reckoned, however, on Cas' determination to discover whatever it is that's living in the nearby woods. Dean should follow his instructions and send the guy away, and yet there's always something stopping him. After all, whoever said a muggle couldn't heal a dragon?

OMG AMAZING!! Wizarding World AUs are the best, and this muggle/magical person romance is super sweet.  

A Fine Frenzy by the_gabih E | 8k | A/b/O AU, omega!dean, alpha!cas

The rest of Dean's family have these romantic, almost fairytale stories of how they first met their mates. Dean? Not so much. But he's okay with that.

Super hot. Apparently an abandoned WIP, but it's mostly porn so that doesn't really matter.    

The Vessel by chellefic E | 7k | Alt!canon, body sharing

When his vessel goes missing, Castiel turns to Dean for help.

I love this fic! Vessel fics/sharing bodies is always a fun and sometimes sexy trope. This definitely delivers on both of those fronts.    

There's Only One Sure Thing That I Know ❤ by leah k E | 20k | Fluff,  Alt!Canon

Dean doesn't even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby's point: he's faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he's been defeated by the God damn Midwest.

This fic was AMAZING. I want to wrap it up in a blanket and cuddle it. Maybe hump it or something. Idk, I'm flexible.    

Unusual by Yosei E | 12k | ABO AU, omega!dean

Now that Sam was in college half-way across the country, Dean needed a roommate in order to keep the spacious apartment (with his own room!) that he'd come to love and call home. With Sam's non-stop worrying, he finally convinces Dean to meet a possible roommate. Who knew that it would be the beautiful dark-winged archangel with a PhD., Castiel Novak?

Come a Little Undone by  FagurFiskur E | 3k | Fluff, Teacher AU, Bottom!Dean, Top!cas

"Well?" Cas prompted, turning his face to the side to look up at Dean. "Are you going to get started?    Something about the annoyed tone in Cas' voice, as if he were the one doing Dean a favor and not the other way around, pissed Dean off enough so that his better judgment took the backseat for just a moment. Unfortunately, that moment was long enough so that by the time it ended, Dean was already straddling Cas' thighs. Written for this prompt: Cas and Dean are teachers. It's the end of the year. Cas is stressed out with grading. How does Dean help?

Short, sweet, and hot. Pining!dean and massages yay.    

Sex 101 by betty days E | 50k | Hot, Dancer AU, Alt!Canon, Slow Burn

or: That Time Castiel Asked Dean to Teach Him How to Have Sex. "I want to have sex," Castiel announces suddenly. Dean chokes on his gulp of Baha Blast. Wherein Dean teaches Cas how to have sex, and Cas teaches Dean why to have sex. This fic is filled with music, literature, fluff, angst, smut, feels, and glitter. Lots and lots of glitter.

This AU will just suck you in. God, I love dancer!dean. It started out with some super hot vouyerism, and progressed to self discovery and more super hot things. Yay.    

Dean Winchester Is a Gay Virgin by betty days E | 79k | Hot,  Angst,  College AU, Mafia AU, Gay Panic

"Dean Winchester has a grand total of two big secrets: Secret #1 is that he’s a virgin. Secret #2 is that he’s gay. Dean Winchester is a college junior, a full-time mechanic, and a baseball superstar. He's so far in the closet, he can't find a way out. Then he meets Castiel Krushnic, the totally dreamy President of the LGBTQA Alliance at school, and finds out that Cas has some dark secrets of his own.

Wow. This is not what I thought I'd be getting into by the title. I was expecting a nice college AU and then there was unexpectedly the mafia, gritty angst, and family feels. What a ride. If this were a book, I would buy the fuck out of it.

Learning to Breathe by underneathitall E | 114k | Fluff,  Angst,  Hospital AU

Dean Winchester was just admitted to the Psychiatric Ward for minors at Lawrence Hospital after a car accident that killed his father but left him alive. When he finds out his roommate is a kid he used to go to school with, Castiel Novak, they start to make a hesitant friendship. At first, Dean's only focus is to get out as fast as he can without any attachments. Soon after that, he discovers that making friendships with other patients in the hospital and developing feelings for Cas might be what he really needed to get through this all along.

ahhsgahahhHhhh I loved this so much! It manages to be weirdly fluffy and feel-good even though it deals with majorly angsty stuff (mental ward, hello).    

Just Kisses by tiptoe39 E | 2k | Hot, PWP

Castiel's not ready for anything beyond kisses. So Dean just kisses him. Everywhere.

Hot and sweet.    

Tales from the Bunker of Domesticity by teaandjumpers M | 17k | Fluff,  Alt!Canon

Moments of domesticity between Dean and Cas (and occasionally Sam) in the Men of Letters bunker. Essentially, this is a story about the boys building a home together.

NnoOoOooOoOooo this was so domestic and lovely!    

The One With Dean's Anal Beads by triedunture E | 1k | | Hot,  PWP, bottom!dean

Complete PWP: anal beads, multiple, dry/painful orgasms, & dirty talk.

Nnnghhhh    

Landing by ladyzanra T | 3k Angst,  Canon!verse

“You think in terms of days, Castiel, but there are no days in Heaven,” Hannah tells him, before he leaves. This, Castiel understands, is the reason she does not stop him.

Fuck everything I'm in PAIN.  

Simple As That by ashwinchester4 M | 2k | Canon!verse, First Kiss, First Time

Dean Winchester is not very good at doing things in the proper order. That includes his relationship with Castiel. After Cas becomes human, things begin to change slowly, simply, easily. Until everything is different.

Gorgeous. Simple as that.  

Let Your Grace Guide You by angel_kink E | 24k | Alt!canon, wing!Kink,

After Castiel heals Dean at Stull, the hunter finds himself with unexpected abilities. He becomes determined to use his newfound powers, with Castiel’s guidance, to rescue Sam from the cage. In order to ensure that their venture to Hell is successful, they are forced to team up with Crowley, who has his own agenda regarding what’s locked up in the pits of Hell. During the course of their alliance, secrets come out, feelings bubble to the surface, and Dean finds himself once again facing an impossibly dangerous situation in an effort to save his brother.    

Napoleon in Rags by linzeestyle E | 42k | Alt!canon, fallen!castiel

“So,” Dean says eventually, breath ruffling Castiel’s hair. “You gonna tell us about this place? “I don’t have to,” Castiel says, pushing himself up on his elbows. “If I’m right, it’s nearby. Near something called Tucson.” Dean looks at him incredulously and Castiel scowls. “I was hiding an invaluable relic, not purchasing real estate. There's no such thing as a hunter retirement plan.

Amazing!! Canon compliant from 8x17 and diverges from there :D    

Kryptonite in Shades of Blue and Green by Annehiggins E | 12k | Superhero AU

Dean is the only member of the Winchester family without super-powers and has lived with the threat of being used against him all his life. When Dark Angel finally makes threat reality, Dean ends up trapping them together for two months. A lot can happen in two months. Written for this prompt on the spnkink_meme. Technically Dubcon.    

Chasing Cars ❤ by ratherbehere E | 45k | Fluff,  College AU, Stripper!dean, demisexuality, Slow Burn

After an awkward accidental encounter at a local strip club, Castiel discovers his college roommate, Dean, has a secret career as a stripper, and their relationship begins to change and a bond begins to form. They face the joys and challenges of life together and discover along the way how deeply they've come to care for each other.

THIS WAS AMAZING! So much UST, Demisexual Cas, which is my favorite, and a long, slow burn romance where they are best friends primarily. Love it.    

A Weekend Project by narrativeimperative E | 16k | Lawyer AU, a/b/o, Omega!cas, alpha!dean,

Castiel Novak is a lawyer for an important firm. He’s also, to his chagrin, an omega. With the help of heat suppressants and some serious denial, it’s not a problem ... until he meets Dean Winchester. And then it’s very definitely a problem.

Literally the best.    

Viva by crowleyo E | 38k | AU, Stripper!Dean, doctor!cas, accidental marriagE |

Dr. Castiel Novak swears he will never let his sister talk him into a surprise trip again. Now he has just woken up in Las Vegas with a hangover, an unknown ring on his finger and a beautiful man next to him. It gets even better, though, when Castiel's last memory from the night before is seeing this man up on a stage in a skimpy cowboy outfit. Now, Castiel has to learn to live a cliche.  

Hush by Braceyourself & dresden E | 105k | College AU

He'd heard all he needed to know about Dr. Novak, really. Straight-laced academic, prioritizes punctuality, favours the smartest students; it doesn't bode well for Dean.

Wow, so great! Dommy!Cas, teacher/student AU. There is rape in it, but not between Cas and Dean.    

The Seraph by Hywar E | 135k | Creature AU, Dub!con, Dom!cas, Sub!dean

Ever since the seraph were discovered, there's been one rule society has had to adapt to: stay out of open water. Powerful, determined and aggressive, the octopus-human creatures are in a league of their own and have no qualms with taking what they want and attacking what they don't. Now, children learn to swim in man-made lakes and beaches are deserted save for researches and the fool-hearted. Dean Winchester is neither of those things. But a hunt has brought him and Sam, his brother, to one of the many abandoned beaches, where Dean is left with no choice but to take refuge in the water. He should be safe, he thinks, he doesn't go too deep - just deep enough to hide himself and to deter his pursuer. He forgot just how fast the damn things could be, and how determined they were once they had their eyes on something.

AMAZING. Love love love! Dominant!Cas who just wants to take care of his willful, human mate. Also tentacle sex. Be warned for dubious consent (because Cas is very convinced he's doing what Dean wants/needs but Dean is not so sure).    

Contact by clotpoleofthelord E | 16k | Alien AU, Tentacles

When aliens land on Earth the first time, Dean ignores it. When they land a second time, he's a little curious. When the third landing happens in his back yard, his life gets very complicated, very fast.

Taking Wing by riseofthefallenone E | 44k

Dean frowns around the cave, his head spinning as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing with his eyes and his echoes. The smell doesn’t hit him until he’s already staggered to his feet, claws clicking on the stone floor. It’s the scent of another bat; different than any kind he’s smelled before. It’s not exactly unpleasant, but it does strike home a realization that turns his stomach inside out. This place belongs to another bat and Dean has pretty much just basically invaded their home.

This is adorable. I didnt know I could get so attached to two gay anthropomorphic bat people.   

Rain by The MigratoryLane E | 2k | | Hot,  Canon!verse, PWP

The fact that Dean Winchester was a strikingly handsome man had not eluded him. But the low burn of arousal that now flowed through his veins was entirely foreign not a month ago. Where as an angel the mere sight of Dean’s neck elicited no greater response, now Castiel found that he wanted nothing more than to trace his lips across the stubbled flesh beneath his jaw—to lick and kiss and suck at it until Dean moaned with the sensation.

CASTURBATION!!    

Cheers, Angel Eyes by wannaliveindeansdimples E | 20k | AU, bartender Dean, Cop Castiel

Dean Winchester is a bartender. He's noticed a new semi-regular and even given him a nickname. Pretty soon he and "Angel Eyes" become friends. Dean wants more, but is secretive, awkward Castiel ready to give it?

As the author's tags say, no matter the universe or circumstance they always find each other and act all schmoopy.    

A Little Slice of heaven by authocracy E | 5k | AU, bottom!cas, wing!Kink

Welcome to A Little Slice of Heaven, where angels stationed on Earth can come, relax, and enjoy themselves. Dance your cares away at our nightclub, or treat yourself to our world-class spa treatments with staff specially trained in the art of wing maintenance. Let our experts turn your stress into pure pleasure. The War is over, and Castiel finds himself bored and lonely in Heaven. He runs into Gabriel, who remembers him from the battlefield and offers to give him a tour of the best places on Earth. The archangel introduces him to his friend Dean, a masseur with magic hands. Castiel, a little self-conscious and shy, doesn't know what Dean means by "extra services" but is eager to spend extra time with him regardless.

Long Time Coming by authocracy E | 13k | Hot, genderswap au

For the prompt: Okay, so in my head, girl!Dean likes her anonymous hookups, likes her slutty biker look and her oversized flannel shirts and skinny jeans. Granted, she's getting a little old for the club scene, but she's always been more of a bar girl. And maybe Sam kind of despairs of her because he's all "RESPECT YOUR BODY AND YOUR MIND DEAN(NA?)" but Dean's never really bought any of that - she likes feeling close to people, and it's hard to with her lifestyle. Plus, there's something powerful about being hot enough to attract as many guys as she does. Thing is, she's not that easy to get off. It takes her time and effort when she's on her own, let alone when there's some guy expecting things of her. And let's be real, a lot of guys in the kind of places she goes to don't really know how to get a girl off. Maybe she's never even come during sex with a guy. Enter Cas.

I love my genderswap fics, and this one is um... really hot.    

[forgottenpasta]

Wednesday

Summary: Each day of the week was reserved for one member: Jimin on Mondays, Namjoon on Tuesdays, Hoseok on Wednesdays, Seokjin on Thursdays, Taehyung on Fridays, Jeongguk on Saturdays and Yoongi on Sundays. Juggling a relationship with seven boys was difficult on its own. Add to that your insecurities, your mother’s disapproval and Hoseok forgetting your anniversary and you had the makings of the worst Wednesday ever. (...Or the best Wednesday ever?)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader, Ot7 x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Oral (female receiving), Rimming, Creampie Rough Sex, Public Sex, Fingering, Orgasm Denial

Word Count: 12.2k

A/N: Enjoy! :)

“Where is it?”, you muttered, throwing open your closet to scan the contents of your scarf drawer. After a short second you slammed it close with a curse.

Your favourite green scarf with pretty red lace tulips sewn in on the edges was nowhere to be found. You’d checked the laundry and every inch of your living space with no luck. Pouting at the thought of losing the precious gift Jimin had given you after returning from the European leg of their tour, you slumped on your bed. Snatching your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table, you dialled Hoseok’s number, not giving a mind to the loud clack as the charger’s adapter pulled free of the socket and fell on the floor, the wire still connected to the phone at your ear.

There were two reasons for your foul mood this lovely Wednesday morning. One was the scarf, and the other…

Hoseok hadn’t called like he did every Wednesday morning to confirm he wasn’t busy and that he’d be spending the night with you. But that wasn’t all. Today was special for the two of you. Just the two of you. And despite your myriad hints leading up to this day, Hoseok hadn’t shown even the slightest proof that he remembered. 

He hadn’t called you and now he wasn’t picking up his phone. 

With a frustrated sigh, you dialled Jin instead. He answered on the third ring.

“Babygirl.” 

A content smile flitted on your face at the eldest’s soft endearment of a greeting, temporarily easing the unknown frustration you’d been feeling the last few days. 

“Good morning Jin.” His name was a sigh on your lips, and you knew he’d be able to pick up on your current temperament from just that. Out of all of them, Jin was the most attuned to your emotions, often the one you sought out when you were feeling down or moody or if you just needed someone to cuddle away all your worries. No wonder he was the one you’d automatically called. 

Sure enough, he sounded more alert when he asked, “What’s wrong, __?” 

“I can’t find my favourite green scarf.”, you whined. You sounded like a petulant three year old complaining to her mother, but you knew Jin would never make fun of you.

An amused snicker sounded down the line. “Aww, did babygirl lose her blankie?”

You scowled at your iPhone, then slapped it back against your ear. “Seokjin, you traitor. You’ve been hanging out with Taehyung too much.”

“What can I say,” You heard the sound of a door closing, likely Jin coming out of his room. “He’s been unusually generous lately. Been paying for all our food, insists on it even.”

“He’s upto something.”, you said without a second thought. 

“Oh I’m sure. Likely wants in on the rap line now that he’s secured a spot on the dance one. That boy won’t rest till he’s had a cypher of his own.” Jin yawned and you heard the distinct sound of the fridge opening. “Just last week I saw him disappear into Yoongi’s studio for hours. Just to come out with an intense look of determination on his face. Like he was about to go to war. I was scared.”

You chuckled, a sudden urge came over you to kiss Taehyung breathless, till he could no longer conjure up all kinds of schemes in that adorable head of his. More and more often, similar surges of emotion regarding the guys would pop up in your brain when you were away from them. 

If a sweet love song played at the cafe you worked at, you started craving Jeongguk’s soft, whispered singing in your ear. If you read a particularly interesting book, you immediately wanted to discuss it with Namjoon. You shivered every time you passed a sex shop on the streets, remembering Jimin’s expert hands binding you with his silken ropes till you quivered with anticipation. Jin’s affectionate gestures were always at the back of your mind when you saw a couple on the streets or a lifetime movie with too much romance and not enough plot. And even the most random things reminded you of Yoongi. A cat cuddled into a ball outside your window, an oversized black hoodie on someone, the smell of brewed chocolate (his favourite drink ever since you’d rendered all his recording equipment unusable by pouring a cup of it over them). 

And Hoseok. He was the start of it all, the member you had met even before you knew seven boys were going to crash into your boring, monotonous life and turn it upside down. The first person you had fell in love with. The one who had introduced you to the rest of them. 

The one who was supposed to be your one and only boyfriend. 

Till you’d come to the horrifying realisation that you felt more than just platonic affection for the six other boys who’d come attached with him like a buy one get six free package deal.

Jin’s voice snipped that train of thought in the bud. “I can tell you’re not listening to me, babygirl. I’d feel offended but thankfully the size of my ego is directly proportionate to my handsomeness.”

You rolled your eyes, too used to his boasting. “Can you ask Namjoon if he saw the scarf? He was here last night when I was wearing it.”

Jin huffed and you heard him moving through the dorm again. “You only call me when you need something, __. I’m sure I don’t like it.”

You grinned. “What happened to your invincible ego? Besides, I distinctly recall you getting off to my moans when I called you last Thursday, just for you to turn it into phone sex—”

“I was 587 miles away from you, woman! We had a show the next day, I couldn’t just book a flight from Narita to Incheon just to spend a few hours with you like last time.” Jin groaned. “I needed you so bad and my hand was a piss poor replacement.”

Your heart was melting into a sympathetic puddle. But before you could reply to his impassioned declaration Jin started laughing. 

“Yo, what the fuck!”, he managed in between guffaws. 

Perking up , you asked, “What is it?”

“What did you do to poor Namjoon last night?” You heard a little shuffling, then a groggy voice groaned in the background. “He’s out cold on the couch, muttering in his sleep. Here listen.”

“…mmhfh y/n-ah, juft one mor paghe n weh cann fuk…hmf…”

“Oh my god!” You giggled, not being able to understand the sounds coming out of his mouth anymore. Jin must have brought the phone close to his mouth. 

“What did you do to him?!”

In between suppressed laughter, you managed to explain, “He wanted to have sex so bad last night but I had a ton of classwork, so he helped me complete it, hoping it would get done faster and he’ll get some. But he fell asleep on my desk writing an essay on Turko-Mongol war strategy and weaponry.”

“You and your essays on dead people.”, Jin teased, still chuckling. The boys were well aware of your love for history and literature, even indulged your interests by buying you all kinds of first editions of rare books and published articles. During your Medieval era European poets phase, Yoongi had bought you some early 16th century illustrations of Dante’s Divine Comedy. They were so priceless that you’d cried at the sight of them. When you’d haltingly asked where and how he got them when even reputed museums had difficulty finding early Dante illustrations, Yoongi had evaded your question like the plague. To this day you suspected he had some very high connections in the black market.

“Oh and by the way”, Jin said offhandedly. “I think he’s drooling on your scarf.”

Mirth disappeared and your eyes went round. “What?!” Then you remembered you’d wrapped it around his neck early this morning while you were still half asleep, hoping he wouldn’t catch a cold on his way to the dorm. “Aagh, get it away from him!”

The doorbell went off just then, surprising you. You weren’t expecting anyone.

“Umm Jin, I’ll call you later,” you told him, getting up from your bed. “Save my scarf please. That’s the only gift I have from Jimin that isn’t a sex toy. And also, ask Hoseok to call me please.”

 “Sure.”, he reassured. “Are you coming to our photoshoot today? I know you don’t have any classes scheduled.”

“Miss a chance of seeing you guys all dolled up and posing sexily? Hell no.”

Jin laughed. “I love you, you pervert. Bye.”

“Mmhm, I love me too.” You hung up, knowing full well that Jin would be rolling his eyes at your antics.

“I’m coming!”, you shouted as the bell went off again, striding out of your bedroom and towards the front door. The smiling face of your mother was the last thing you were expecting to see when you opened it.

“Mom!” You hugged her automatically. “What are you doing here?”

She patted your back, dropping a kiss on the side of your head. Her ever youthful face coming into your view as she pulled back. “I was in Seoul to attend a soiree some of my friends were hosting. I couldn’t leave without meeting you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”, you said cheerfully, ushering her in and closing the door. “Let’s talk in the kitchen. I’ll make some tea for you.”

She followed you into the kitchen, seating herself on one of the breakfast barstools as you set about making her a hot cup of her preferred beverage. “Thank you, dear. I really appreciate that you keep tea in your kitchen for when I visit, even though you don’t drink it.”

“Oh, umm, it’s nothing mom.” You stared at the water filling the kettle intently, not having the heart to tell her that you also kept it for when Taehyung stayed over. He didn’t like the taste of coffee.

Your mother knew about your relationship with the seven boys. Your father didn’t. After those first few weeks of being with them, you’d taken the risk of telling her because you had no one to talk about such a big change happening in your life. You couldn’t tell any of your college friends because technically Bangtan were not supposed to be dating anyone, let alone all seven of them dating one, lest their fangirls (and boys) get mad. You couldn’t risk outing them. The only one you hundred percent trusted to keep a secret was your mom. So you had told her. And as expected she’d kept your secret even from your father. 

 But that did not mean she approved or supported seven men being with her one daughter. 

“Hows college going, sweetheart?”, she asked, watching you put in a tablespoon of sugar in her tea, just as she liked. 

“It’s going good.” You paused. That was a lie. “Actually I barely get time to complete my class projects. It’s kinda hectic.”

“__, please tell me you finally broke it off with those boys.”, she blurted out as soon as you poured her a cup. 

There it was. Of course she would assume you didn’t get time because your boyfriends took up all of it.

Rubbing sluggishly at your eyes, you sighed. Your mother was never one to beat around the bush.

“Mom, I love them.” You looked up into her eyes so she could see how sincere you were. “I’m not going to end it with them.”

She took a cautious sip from her cup, a contemplative expression coming over her face. You braced yourself. When your mother got thoughtful, it meant she was about to drop some serious truth bombs and painful facts that you were likely not going to like or want to hear. 

“So, are you waiting for them to end it with you?” She raised a brow, phrasing her question like she was genuinely curious. You knew better. 

“ You’re a very intelligent girl, dear. Do you seriously see such an arrangement lasting?” Her mouth twisted at the word “arrangement”, like it tasted foul.

Gazing at the ceiling, you prayed for her understanding, even though a part of you understood her reservations and that she was only looking after you. 

“You don’t know them like I do, mom. They love me too. Very much so.” Your voice came out strained, ruining the conviction you’d wanted to infuse it with.

“I don’t doubt that. Look at me, __.”, she ordered softly.

You did and she offered you a tentative smile. “I don’t doubt that at all. You deserve all the love in the world and more. But a little pragmatism goes a long way, __. How is it possible that seven men keep themselves limited to one girl only?”

She took your hand that was fisted on top of the counter, slowly prying the tensed muscles open till you gave her your palm and she kissed the middle of it. “I don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. And you’re only setting yourself up for a seven times bigger fallout if you keep this thing up. Men are notoriously possessive creatures, if they don’t seek out other women, they’ll likely fight amongst themselves for you.”

Shaking your head, you took your hand out of her grasp. “No, mom. They’re very close, like brothers. They do get jealous when other men hit on me but never each other.” 

Your mother sighed, frustration creeping up on her face. Her tone hardened as she said, “Then they would not hesitate to kick you to the curb if you threaten their unity even the slightest bit. I did not want to do this but you have to stop being so naïve, __. Haven’t you thought about why they agreed to this thing with you so easily?”

You almost said because they liked you so much, but you knew that wasn’t the answer your mother had in mind. “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

She leaned forward with a scowl. “Because it’s convenient. They’re insanely popular right now. Everywhere they go they’ve got eyes on them. Even your recluse of a father, who only concerns himself with politics and sports knows their songs. It’s easier for them to keep and share one woman then deal with seven.”

The kitchen was deathly silent save for the blood rushing in your ears. You did not want to hear this. You did not want some half baked ideas your mom had raise doubts in your mind about the boys. 

Forcing back the tears that threatened, you softly murmured, “Mom, please.” 

But she wasn’t done. “You drop everything to go to them. You keep yourself available 24/7. At their beck and call seven days a week.”

“It’s not like that.”, you exclaimed. “They support me just as much, if not more. They never ask for more than I’m comfortable giving.”

“That’s the problem, y/n.”, your mother snapped. “You’re willing to give too much of yourself. Better reel yourself in before you find yourself utterly vulnerable and exposed, with no one to lean on.”

“What does that mean?”, you asked, just as harshly.

“It means…”, she paused, as if debating wether to continue or not, before shaking her head. “I’m telling you to be ready for the time when they find partners of their own.”

Aggravated at her continued belabouring, you threw up your hands. “I’ve told you they aren’t interested in other girls—”

“Yet.” She cut you off. “Or maybe who knows, they might just be keeping company of others behind your back. Though you’re smart you’ve never been very observant.”

“Mom!”, you almost shouted, horrified at what she was insinuating. Even the thought of them going behind your back like that was unbearably painful. But you trusted them, so this whole conversation was unnecessary. “You’re just saying that because you haven’t met them. Once you’ll get to know what kind of people they really are, you wouldn’t say such things.”

She sneered, clearly put off by even the idea of meeting them. Then she delivered the final blow. “That’s not gonna happen, Y/n. The day you bring home seven men at once, your father will have a heart attack. And I’m not ever going to be interested in meeting the men who treat my daughter like a communal shower.”

“Mom.”, you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose for patience and to quell the tears that were waiting to burst free. You couldn’t believe she actually said that. “I think you should leave.”

 “I think so too.” You heard her get up from the barstool, opening your eyes to gaze unseeingly at her half empty cup on the counter. 

The sound of her retreating footsteps stopped at the entryway. “I’m your mother, __. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. Remember that.” 

And with that parting reminder, she left. As soon as the door closed behind her, your tears fell like a dam burst free, crumbling all your emotional defences along with it. Slowly, and not-so-gracefully you crumbled to the kitchen floor yourself, your butt hitting the cool tiles as you buried your face in your knees, wrapping your arms around them to make a rolled up, human ball of woe. 

When initially you’d told your mother about the boys almost half an year ago she’d been disbelieving at first. Later, when she’d finally accepted you were not joking, she’d told you that you would get tired of “this new polyamory fad” soon, not being able to handle dealing with so many people in your love life at once. You guessed that after almost a year of you dating Bangtan, she’d finally come around to the fact that this wasn’t just a phase in her daughter’s life. Today was the first time she’d gotten so vocal about her disapproval though. Usually it was just snide remarks, invasive questions or straight up ignoring that you were even dating someone. You knew that keeping such a big thing from your dad because of the promise you’d extracted from her also weighed on her conscience.  

The chill seeped from the cold tiles to your whole body and you shivered as you wiped your tears, frowning when more rushed to replace them. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t asked all those questions your mother had raised yourself. Trepidation had racked you when you’d first ventured into such a daring commitment with them. Will you alone be able to satisfy them? How would you divide your time amongst seven men? What if they got bored with you, or worse, jealous of each other? Would they seek out someone else?

But slowly and surely, the boys had shown you that trust and loyalty, though hard earned, were bonds that survived the treacherous potholes of navigating a polyamorous relationship. You trusted them, you were loyal to them. They trusted you, they were loyal to you. 

Or were they?

Shaking your head, you got up off the floor with a huff, stalking to your bedroom with an irritated gait. This is why you did not want to talk to your mother. You were only human. The seeds of doubt once sown, germinated into assumptions and suspicion you absolutely loathed. Mainly, because you were self aware enough to realise that they had no real substance to them, they only reflected your own secret fears back at you. But again, you were only human and no matter how much you tried to shake off the encounter with your mom, your mood soured further when your overactive imagination supplied images of the boys with other women. 

And your age old enemy, insecurity, reared its ugly head. Taehyung was an ass man, maybe he’d like to be with someone with a bigger butt. Were you even intelligent enough for Namjoon? Jin would suit a more wholesome woman who knew how to cook something other than ramen. Yoongi liked breasts, maybe someone with a perkier pair. You could not sing to save your life, so why did Jeongguk like you when all his female celebrity crushes had killer pipes? Jimin used to train submissives before you came into his life, did he think about those happier times? 

Did Hoseok resent having to share you with his members when you’d pledged to love him and only him? 

You were angrily yanking open your closet to look for something to wear to their photoshoot when your phone flashed from where you’d thrown it on the bed before your mom had officially ruined your day. 

Peeking a look at it, you wondered if you should have read your horoscope. Because the day was far from over.

Hobi: Few high school friends invited me for drinks tonight. Rain check?

~.~.~

Exactly one year ago ~

The bookstore became eerily quite after 10 pm. Only a few last minute stragglers sometimes showed up to look for some obscure book they obviously couldn’t find anywhere else. 

You loved being with your lonesome self behind the cash register. Usually with a book in your hands, reading up on all kinds of historical fiction, medieval fantasies, long forgotten poems of equally unknown poets and of course the occasional bodice ripper. 

Which was what you were doing when the bell above the entrance chimed, indicating someone was indeed, on the prowl for some late night book hunting. You didn’t look up from the raunchy text in your lap as a dark figure passed by, clearly no more interested in exchanging pleasantries than you were. With a shrug you went back to focus on the guilty pleasure of a novel you’d picked for yourself tonight. A courtesan heroine during renaissance Italy who entertained patrons from not only the newly emerging Humanist circles but also the corrupt members of the clergy? Oh yes please. 

But when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw the newcomer heading for the comic book section you grew intrigued. Late night hunting for…comic books? 

Close proximity to the Seoul National University meant that the bookstore you worked at housed mostly academic readings. And as such the people who came here were also mostly students who wished to buy a copy of the expensive publishings they could otherwise also find in a library. That alone meant that the bookstore was never buzzing with customers. Let alone ones who were looking for some flashy illustrations and superhero escapism. The comic books you had on offer usually just collected dust. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you abandoned your heroine in midst of a wanton tryst with a nobleman to observe the anomaly currently browsing the comics on display. 

He had on a long black trench coat, leather pants encasing the muscular legs below and Dr. Martens on his feet. His hair was covered with a black cap and from what you could see, a mask of the same colour stretched across his face. It wasn’t unusual to see people with their face fully covered, so you didn’t think much of his all black ensemble. Though he would blend in perfectly outside at night, under the store’s bright lights he stuck out like a bat during the day. 

Maybe he’s a fan of batman. 

When he’d chosen his pick he turned around, making you duck your head down quickly. The light chuckle that reached your ears meant that you weren’t fast enough and he’d caught you checking him out. You flushed red. 

“Can I get these gift wrapped please?” 

Two comic books landed on the counter in front of you, the sound accompanying the husky lilt of the man’s voice. 

Left with no choice but to interact with him, you softly replied, “Of course.” Strangely, your heart beat spiked as you reached forward to pick the thin, glossy books up. He’d placed his hands on the wood counter, palms down, his sleeves pushed up a little. For a second you stared at his long fingers, a ridged vein stretching from the knuckles to the back of his right hand, forking out on his bare forearm before disappearing under his clothing like a purplish blue tattoo. 

As if on cue, he started drumming his fingers, snapping you into action as you quickly scanned his purchase. 

“That’ll be 15,430 won.” Opening a cabinet to pull out a selection of wrapping papers, you deliberately took your time to avoid meeting his eyes. What was going on with you? You couldn’t even see his face properly but you were acting like a teenager with her first crush. You decided it was time to stop reading romantic fantasies. 

Clearing your throat you presented the options to him with a flourish, this time looking him straight in the eyes. “Which one would you like?”

He gave a cursory glance to the colourful sheets before glancing back at you with a quirked brow. Was he laughing at your flustered form? You couldn’t tell what with the mask, but there was definitely mirth dancing in his eyes.  

A shrug. “Whichever. I really don’t care.”

“Fine”, you huffed, really not appreciating being the source of his amusement. You chose a blue paper with green stripes, placing the comics in the middle. 

“I like that one.”, he commented graciously. And you were just about to reply when he continued cheekily, “I also like your choice in books.” 

Your hands froze, eyes darting to the unfinished

novel you’d placed face up on the table. The salacious cover showed a woman in medieval garb, her mouth half open in a silent moan as a blonde man wearing a billowy white shirt kissed her bare shoulder, the open neck of her gown threatening to expose her breasts. 

In a flash you flipped the book, cover side down, opening a drawer to hastily throw it inside. Slamming it closed, you glared at the man who was now outright laughing at you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.”, he cajoled in a tone that suggested you should, in fact, be embarrassed. “Everyone’s gotta live vicariously somehow.”

Was he suggesting you read erotic books because you didn’t get laid in real life? 

You narrowed your eyes. “Is that why you’re reading children’s books?” You indicated the My Little Pony picture book and the Superman comic he’d picked up. “I must say you’ve got varied tastes.”

“Hey now.” He held up his hands. “Those are for my niece and nephew. They’re twins and it’s their birthday today.”

“Maybe that’s what you say whenever you’ve got to stock up on the latest My Little Pony issue. Have them gift wrapped so no one suspects.” Now you were just pushing it, but the burn of embarrassment still irked.  

He was grinning behind his mask. “No that one’s for my nephew. He likes ponies.”

You gaped at him. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

You held up the Superman issue. “And I’m guessing your niece likes superheroes?”

“Only the ones who can fly.” He shrugged. “According to her Batman is an imposter with no real powers.”

“Radical.”, you said in amazement.

“Look I didn’t mean to upset you.” His hand on the counter moved to cover yours. A shock of awareness jolted through your spine, making you sit up straighter. By the way he swallowed, he wasn’t unaffected either. But he didn’t let go of your hand, clutched it tighter actually. “I’m sorry if I was rude.”

“I, umm.”, you stuttered, not being able to look away from his sincere gaze. What were you upset about again? Yeah, the living vicariously comment. “It’s alright. Though I’ll have you know, I get plenty of action.”

No you didn’t get plenty of action. And you did not just say that.

At least you’d managed to shock him out of his sauve demeanour. “I’m…sure you do.” He cleared his throat, squeezing your hand. “I wasn’t insinuating anything. I read smut too, you know.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. “You don’t.” 

“I don���t.” He grinned again. “Just trying to make you feel better.”

“Hey!” You snatched back your hand, scowling at him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”, he breathed in between laughter. “You’re just too easy to rile up.”

“Ha ha.”, you mocked. “Are you living vicariously through me then? Not enough comedy in your life, huh?” 

He straightened then, his amusement disappearing. “Maybe.”

Reaching for the hand you’d pulled out of his grip, he brought it closer to him. Wrapping both his hands around yours, he made sure you were looking into his eyes when he said, “Maybe you’re exactly what I need in my life.”

Your breath hitched at that. “I don’t even know your name.”

His eyes crinkled at that. He was smiling behind his mask again. At that moment, you wanted to see his face more than anything in the world. 

One hand let go of yours to point at the large S on Superman’s chest on the comic’s cover. 

You frowned in confusion. “Your name is…S?”

“No silly. That’s not an S, that’s the Kryptonian symbol for hope.”

~.~.~

Present Day~

Your tears had dried by the time you left your house to head for the Bighit building. The occasional sniffle still persisted though, and you hoped you looked put together enough for the boys to not suspect anything. 

The talk with your mother was not entirely responsible for your persisting melancholy. You’d been reminiscing your first meeting with Hoseok ever since his text came in. Something about it being the first anniversary of when he’d come into your quaint little bookshop, all masked up in disguise and asked you out, after thoroughly embarrassing you that is. You hadn’t gotten to see his face on the first date either, or the second or the third. When he’d asked you why you still went on multiple dates with him when he didn’t allow you to see his face (which also meant he didn’t kiss you), you’d joked about having a taste for wanted fugitives. 

But the truth was that you’d fallen in love with him even before you really knew who he was. He made you laugh, made your heart flutter when he’d wrap you up in his arms, he wasn’t afraid to push your boundaries when it came to getting to know you. By the time the fifth date had rolled around he knew everything about you and you still knew nothing about him, except for the fact that he had some sinful moves, which you’d gotten to know when he’d gave you a fully clothed lap dance on your birthday. You’d fallen for his mannerisms. He’d pull out your chair, open doors for you, give you his jacket. He was different than all the guys you’d previously dated, he never once tried to get into your pants, the most you’d gotten was a quick brush of his lips across your forehead before he’d quickly slide his mask back in place.  

You were the one who’d grown frustrated at him taking it so slow. He’d only chuckle lightly and divert your hand to safety whenever you tried to grope him, all your amateur attempts at seduction thwarted when he’d cage you in his arms instead or pull your attention elsewhere. 

The day you’d gotten to see his face was also the day he introduced you to the rest of the boys. When he’d invited you over to his place for the first time you were ecstatic. Finally having his trust was a big deal to you. By now you’d realised he must be someone important (or dangerous) for him to hide his identity for so long, but you’d never pushed him to reveal himself. You’d thought he’d finally realised how serious you were about him. 

Oh, he’d realised it alright. When he’d opened the dorm door for you, the first thing he’d done was kiss your mouth senseless, even before you’d registered who it was you were looking at. When he’d pulled back after ravishing your mouth, you’d gaped at him in shock, both at his hungry mauling and the fact that  you were looking at, well, him. A world famous artist. Who’d just kissed you like his life depended on it. 

His words then were still etched into your brain. He’d smiled wide and you remember thinking it was the most beautiful sight ever. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to kiss you, __.” 

You clutched your coat around you tighter as you took the familiar route to your boyfriends’ workplace. A wistful smile graced your lips when you remembered how the rest of the boys had embraced you into their group seamlessly, like you were always meant to be right by their side. Your friendship with them had started out innocent enough, but they had always been very handsy when it came to you. You hadn’t minded and neither did Hoseok, when one of them asked you for a massage or laid their head in your lap or if the competitive younger ones tickled you ceaselessly when you’d beat them at a game. You’d developed a rapport with Namjoon and Yoongi, you enjoyed listening to them whenever they had something to say and you were flattered when they took your opinions and suggestions seriously. 

Slowly and surely they’d trusted you with all their secrets, allowing you into their private life as you and Hoseok’s relationship had deepened. So it really came as shock to you when one day you’d snapped at Namjoon when he’d come to you asking advice regarding the girl he’d been dating. It hadn’t been your finest moment and for a while it had mired your bond with the boys in confusion and uncertainty. Especially when Namjoon had broken up with the girl the very next day. 

The real shocker came when Jeongguk kissed you full on the mouth in the presence of Hoseok. And your boyfriend did not seem to mind at all! Gradually the boys’ handsiness had grown into full-blown PDA. They kissed you, pulled you into their lap during movie nights, back hugs became commonplace. Taehyung even loved to warm his hands against your bare waist, sneaking them inside your shirts whenever he could. Before your moral compass went haywire with guilt you had sat all of them down and talked about the nature of your relationship. 

Communication was always key. Hoseok had initially been unsure of the mere idea of sharing you but you’d assured him that you would never go ahead with it if he wasn’t onboard. But the fact was, you’d fallen in love with the rest of the boys too. And he could see that as well. 

You still wonder sometimes, if he’d said yes only because he risked losing you otherwise. You wouldn’t have been able to handle secretly pining for the other boys if he’d said no. 

As you displayed your id to the guard at front, you wondered if he’d really forgotten that today was your anniversary. It seemed like it.  Why would he accept an invitation to go out tonight of all nights if he didn’t? Should you remind him? Or maybe it just wasn’t as big of a deal as you were making it out to be. 

You didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that today was a shit day. And with that thought, you entered the spacious conference room converted into a studio for the photoshoot. Namjoon had told you that it was for this years season’s greetings. 

From the soft mood lightings against the panel of wall to wall windows spanning one side of the room and the light coloured casual clothing that hung from the racks pushed to the corners, you deduced that they were going for a soft, boyfriend look this time. 

You snorted. How ironic they’d sell such a concept to their fans when all seven of them were taken at the same time. By the same person. 

The familiar faces of the co-ordis greeted you as you moved in, and you murmured a soft good morning to them. “Where are they?”, you asked, looking around.

Solji, one of the older stylists, answered you with a smile. “You’re a little early. They’ll be here soon.”

“Great. I’ll set up somewhere out of your way then.” You returned her smile, she was your favourite out of all the staff, always friendly and understanding. 

Speaking of the staff, your eyes caught a new face flitting among the familiar ones when you scanned the room for a place to sit. You nudged Solji. “Is she new?”, you asked, flicking your chin towards the blonde girl assisting the hairstylist in pulling out all kinds of products from a bag.

Solji nodded. “Miso. She’s a temp. We fell short on hands when Hyoyeon took her maternity leave. Most likely will become permanent if she’s good.”

You frowned. “Does she know about me?”

The staff were well informed about your relationship with Bangtan, the Non Disclosure Agreement they signed when they were hired prevented them from going to the media with any kind of private details about the boys, lest they be sued for their weight in gold. But it always caused you anxiety when a new staff member got to know about you. More so when they got to know you were dating all of them. 

“Yes. I informed her myself. She was surprised, to say the least.”

“Everyone is.” Your mom’s sneer came to mind suddenly, but you pushed it away. Patting Solji’s arm, you said, “Time for me to catch up on my studies I guess.”

Spying a small love seat in one corner of the big room you headed towards it. Picking up the empty make up containers strewn over it, you placed them carefully on the carpeted floor instead. Perching yourself on the seat, you pulled open your handbag, pulling out your laptop and the textbook you and Namjoon had been pouring over last night. 

This is what you did when they asked you over on a photoshoot, or vocal practice or dress fittings. Watching them from a corner while trying to get some work done. But mostly just gazing at them go about their way from your front row perch, hearts in your eyes. 

You’d only just begun reading when the sound of their laughter reached your ears. Looking up eagerly, you promptly forgot your work. Yoongi was already headed towards you, looking downright sinful in a white Supreme hoodie, jeans and converse. Did he even need to change? This was boyfriend look right here. 

“My little bird’s already hard at work I see.” He bent to give you a heart stopping kiss, his hand cupping your nape in a proprietary gesture. “How am I gonna focus on the shoot with you looking so gorgeous today, hmm? Maybe we can convince the photographer to take your pictures instead.”

Oh, flirty Yoongi was in the house today. 

“I don’t think your fans would like that.” You bit his lip, not even trying to resist the temptation right before your eyes. 

Another deep kiss. “Their loss.”

“Hyung, Solji noona is calling you.”, a cheerful Taehyung said from behind Yoongi. 

The elder straightened up with a scowl. “Really? You’ll get a knuckle sandwich if you’re lying.”

“I’m not.”, he exclaimed, jerking a thumb behind him. “Go ask her yourself.”

As Yoongi left while muttering something under his breath, Taehyung sprawled himself on the love seat beside you. “I lied.”

You nodded. “Of course you did.”

The shout of “Tae you motherfucker!” could be heard as the subject of the loud curse brushed some stray hair behind your ears, an unbothered boxy smile directed at you as he asked, “So __, I heard Hobi hyung won’t be spending the night with you. This must come as a shock because I’m a busy man,” he polished his nails on the lapels of the Gucci coat he had on, before inspecting them like they were the singular most interesting thing, “but did you know I’m completely free tonight?”

You smiled at his attempt at nonchalance but your heart ached at the reminder. Looking towards Hoseok, you found him and the boys surrounded by the styling team. When Hoseok caught you looking, he grinned wide, moving to make his way to you. 

A small hand on his shoulder stopped him in his path. The new temp Miso held up a shirt to his torso, looking up at him with a smile as she said something you couldn’t quite hear. You saw Hoseok nod and reply to her, all plans of coming to you forgotten. 

“Is there trouble in paradise?”, Taehyung guessed, looking at his hyung then at you then back to his hyung like a ping pong ball. 

Halting his swivelling head by placing a palm on his cheek, you pouted, “Tae, do you know what today is?”

A scared look came over his face. “Oh shit, did I forget your birthday or something?”

You scowled. “No. It’s me and Hoseok’s one year anniversary. It’s the day I first met him. And he doesn’t remember.”

“Oh.” Then a strange look came over his face, somewhere between constipation and indigestion. He was hiding something. “Oh.”

“What are you ohing about?”, you asked curtly, your curiosity growing. “And why are you making that face?”

“What face?”, he squeaked, getting up from the chair in a flash. “Oh looky there, Solji noona is calling me.”

“Wait!” But he was already hightailing it out of there. “Tae you motherf—ugh!”

For the next hour you watched them from your corner seat as they went through multiple outfit changes and all different kinds of poses against the strategically placed props near the windows. The soft sunlight filtering in provided a natural lighting and their beautiful features seemed to glow from within because of the luminescent makeup they wore. All in all it was a mesmerising affair, they looked like angels. 

And throughout it all instead of focusing on getting some work done your gaze slipped to Hoseok again and again. All of the boys had come to sit beside you at one point or the other, except him. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. 

The pencil in your grip almost snapped to half when you saw the new hire, Miso, bend down to whisper something in his ear as she messed with his already perfect hair. One of her hands landed on his shoulder and you could swear she was caressing him. 

For his part, he rested his head on the back of the chair, eyes closed and barely giving her one word answers. But that did nothing to quell the embers of jealousy burning inside you. Solji had said that the new girl knew about you. You did not want to interfere in their work but if she continued feeling up your boyfriend...

You almost catapulted out of your chair when you saw her brush her ample chest against his arm whilst pretending to pick something up from the floor. 

But luckily Namjoon made his way to you at the same time, saving you from smacking a bitch into next week. 

“I’m sorry about your scarf, doll. I put it in the laundry for you.” He smiled, cheeks dimpling deeply, as if he expected a pat on the back for managing such a feat.

Reluctantly you looked away from Hoseok and the snake coiling herself around him, giving Joon a half hearted smile. “Thank you, baby.”

The dimples disappeared. “Is something wrong?”

The sincere worry in his eyes was all it took for your composure to shatter. The past few days, your mother’s visit,  Hoseok’s forgetfulness, your own insecurities and now the bitch a few feet away from you. 

With a pathetic whine you launched yourself into the leader’s lap, situating yourself between his thighs and wrapping your arms around him. Your face fit perfectly in the space between his shoulder and neck. You didn’t care if you were ruining his carefully put together outfit or the fact that you were in a room full of people. 

Thankfully Namjoon didn’t care either, he immediately pulled you close, bending down to kiss your nose affectionately. 

“Doll?”, was all he said in his soft, deep, ever understanding voice and everything you’d been bottling up came hurtling out in a hiccupy word vomit. By the time you were finished tears were running down your face and you turned to hide into his chest so nobody else could see you breaking down. 

“Aah your mother is wrong, so so wrong. You’re our centre, the best thing that ever happened to us.” Sighing, he rubbed your back. “But I understand where she’s coming from. If it were my daughter I’d be sceptical too. We’ll just have to convince her that we love you more than anything in the world.”

“She doesn’t want to meet you guys.”, you murmured against his chest, wiping your nose on his expensive designer shirt. 

He didn’t seem to mind, brushing away your tears with his shirt sleeve himself. Solji was going to kill you both. 

“I’m sure we can change her mind.” Namjoon nudged your chin up till he was gazing into your eyes. “As for Hoseok, don’t you dare doubt his love for you. He worships the ground you walk on.”

“Is that why he forgot our anniversary?”

Namjoon evaded your eyes. “Doll...”

“And why isn’t he pushing away that new temp?”

“Huh?” Confused, he looked up in the direction of the man in question. 

“Forget it. Do I even have any right to be jealous when it comes to you guys?”, you questioned softly to yourself. Something you’d been wondering about for a while. “I mean there’s one of me and seven of you. You don’t get jealous when I’m with Jimin or Yoongi. Why should I be jealous if you guys show interest in other girls, right?”

That snapped his attention back to you, and what you saw in his eyes made you shrink in on yourself. He was angry, furious even. He grabbed your jaw, made sure your eyes didn’t stray from him.

“Of the most ridiculous nonsense you could come up with, I never imagined you’d be questioning our loyalty to you.”, he said through his teeth. “Firstly, we have no fucking interest in dating another girl, get that through your thick head. Second, we don’t get jealous of each other but you very well know we can’t stand anyone else putting their hands on you. Thirdly,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I can’t say for other guys but I love it when you get jealous.”

“What?”, you breathed.

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you remember when I came to you asking for dating advice before you’d agreed to be with all of us? When you were only Hoseok’s girlfriend.”

“I do.” You were just reminiscing about your early days with the boys a few hours ago. 

“I didn’t really want your advice, I suspected you liked me too and I just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

You stared at him. “Is that why you broke up with the girl the next day?”

“Hehe.”, he laughed nervously. “I wasn’t dating anybody in the first place. I only wanted to be with you.”

Your jaw dropped. 

Solji’s voice cut through your intimate bubble then. “Namjoon, you’re up.”

“Time to get scolded for ruining my shirt.” He picked you up and set you on the cushions like you weighed nothing. 

“I’m sorry about that.” Glancing at the wetness that covered his front from your tears and snot, you winced. 

“I drooled on your scarf, you cried on my shirt. We’re a match made in heaven, babe.”, he said, a shit eating grin on his face. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You threw a cushion at his face. 

He flicked it away with a swat. “You’ve been sitting here for hours, you should stretch your legs. I have that SourPunk string candy you like so much in the drawer beneath my computer. Go get some.”

“Really?!” You jumped up at once. “It’s my favourite.”

“I know.” He left after giving you an indulgent smile, though you heard him mutter under his breath “it tastes like satan’s ass” before he was out of earshot. 

Ignoring him, you happily made your way out of the huge room, heading straight for Namjoon’s studio on the third floor. There was a spring in your step. Not surprisingly talking to the leader had put some sense back into you, he’d Expecto Petronumed your insecurities like they were dementors. For now at least, you were sure they’d rear their ugly head again in the future like a chronic disease. 

Striding down the hallway cheerfully, you did not expect a hand to shoot out of a door. You shrieked like a banshee when the hand clutched your arm, hauling you inside before slamming the door close. 

“What the—“, your shout was cut off by Hoseok’s hand over your mouth. 

“It’s me, __. Don’t scream.”

Narrowing your eyes, you licked his palm. 

“Aah!” He snatched it back, face scrunching. “What was that for?”

“For ignoring me all day. And scaring me just now.”

“Ignoring you?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. I don’t do childish stuff like that. I’m not Yoongi hyung.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Hoseok’s glare turned into a confused frown when he saw your face clearly, the dim lighting not helping his vision. “Were you crying?”

Flinching, you spoke sharply, “No.”

The frown didn’t abate. “__, I swear I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“That’s not why I was crying.”

“So you were crying.” He raised his brows, daring you to deny it. His eyes softened when you looked away instead. 

“Hey baby, I’m sorry.”, he murmured in your ear, his hands finding purchase on your waist. He nudged your face toward his, nuzzling you softly. “Whatever I did I’m so sorry.”

Melting in his arms, you allowed him to pull you close. “You don’t even know what you’re apologising for.”

Placing a hand on the side of your neck, a thumb at your chin pulled your mouth open. “It doesn’t matter. I hate seeing you upset.” 

He kissed your open mouth, his tongue immediately finding yours. The taste of him made you moan, coffee and the sugar coated lemon drops he loved so much. It was a strange but delectable combination. 

As you sucked on his tongue, his hands dropped to work on the buttons of your blouse. You pulled away for a second to ask, “We’re really doing this here? Right now?”

“Not we.” Pushing your blouse and bra out of the way, he freed one breast for his hungry mouth.

“I just want to make you feel good.”, he breathed against your nipple before taking the cold, hardened bud between his warm lips. 

Head thumping back against the door, you clutched him to your chest. “Hobi, oh my god!”

Taking your sensitive nipple between his teeth, he pulled, making a jolt of arousal go straight to your core. He chuckled as a moan tore from you. “I haven’t even started and you’re already invoking god. You won’t be able to keep quiet, would you? Do you want everyone to know your boyfriend’s worshipping you?”

Pulling him up for another messy kiss, you confessed against his lips. “Yes. I want everyone to know that you belong to me.”

Something primal and unrestrained entered his eyes, and you almost regretted your words for a second. With a swiftness that defied gravity, he picked you up and strode to a nearby table. After clearing the surface with a sweep of his hand, he placed you gingerly on top. The clink and clatter of jewellery and other accessories hitting the floor echoed in the room, but you only had eyes and ears for Hoseok. 

“Be careful what you ask for, __.” 

What had you unleashed? 

He made swift work of your jeans till you were clad only in your blouse and soaking wet panties. 

“Look at that, you’ve already made a mess.” Cupping your crotch, he stroked your clothed labia slowly, smirking when you swivelled your hips for more. “How badly do you want me to eat you out, __? Tell me and I might let you have my tongue.” 

You wanted him too much to care about how desperate you sounded. “So bad. Please! I want your tongue on my pussy.” 

“What my baby wants, she gets.” He dropped to his knees between your spread legs, pushing at the back of your thighs to expose your genitals in the most lewd way possible. Pushing aside your soaked panties, he dove in with fervour like he was about to devour the most scrumptious meal ever. 

The first flick of his tongue on your clit had you gnashing your teeth and fisting his thick, soft hair. From previous experience you knew that receiving oral sex from him meant that he was going to put all your vibrators to shame. 

And sure enough, the speed of his tongue on your clit blew your mind, as did the currents of pleasure coursing through you. How he was able to move his tongue so fast, you had no fucking clue. Pausing in his expert assault, he took the already quivering bundle in his mouth to suck, simultaneously thrusting two fingers deep in your slick channel. 

“Hobi! Fuck! Umfh..” That was all you could manage till he found the soft spongy spot on your inner walls, pressing on it in tandem with his licks on your clit. Most of the sounds that came out of your mouth were incoherent shouts and half pleas. 

Hoseok’s eyes met yours over the expanse of your tummy and you could tell he was internally laughing as you dissolved into a mindless being intent on reaching your climax. “Hobi please make me cum!”

The bastard pulled his sinful mouth away from your cunt instead. “What was that?”

“Aagh!”, you yelled in frustration. “Put that tongue back on my fucking clit!”

He pouted, his cheeks glistening from your juices. “Is that any way to speak to your boyfriend?”

“Hobi.”, you cried, about to burst into frustrated tears literally. “Please!”

Grinning, he dove back down. “Now was that so hard?”

This time he pulled his fingers out of your entrance to rub slick circles on your nub instead. His mouth tasted a path down your inner labia before tonguing your clenching, empty hole. 

“Hoseok, don’t tease me.”, you begged. 

Taking mercy on you, he thrust his tongue deep inside. The fingers playing your clit like a fiddle doubled their strokes.

“Fuck yes!”, you screamed. 

His tongue inside your pussy mimicked his dick thrusting in and out, your pussy trying to grip the muscle everytime he pulled it back out. You could come just from him tongue fucking you. 

“Hoseok don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

He stopped. Pulling away once again. 

“What?!”, you shrieaked, your orgasm slipping away from your grasp. Frustrated tears did, in fact, make their way down your cheeks this time. 

“Your pussy tastes like fucking ambrosia, __.”, he groaned, licking his lips. “But I wanna have a taste of something else too.”

Frowning, you half sobbed, half moaned, “What?”

He smirked. “Let’s see if you can come from having your ass eaten.”

The shudder that went through you at his words was overshadowed by pleasure when he licked down your pussy, giving a fluttering peck to your neglected entrance before venturing further south. Your perineum received a wet, open mouthed kiss and a nuzzle. 

“Hold your legs for me, baby.”, he commanded softly, his breath tingling both your holes. 

Snaking your arms around the back of your thighs, you pulled your legs up and away. You were nervous but excited, none of the other boys had rimmed you before. “Hobi, please hurry.”

A nip on your buttcheek made you yelp. “Don’t rush me. I’m going to enjoy this.”

Kneading your buttocks in his palms, he pulled them apart, a butterfly kiss to your asshole followed. Then he laved the puckered hole, making you gasp at the unfamiliar sensation. 

“Oh.”, you breathed. “That feels so good.”

You felt him smile. Another light kiss on your rim, then his tongue explored. Circling your asshole and probing at your forbidden entrance till you clenched at the foreign feeling with a groan. 

He tsked, clearly disapproving. “Don’t tense up, baby. Open up to me. I love this cute little hole.”

At his urging you relaxed and he began eating your hole with the same enthusiasm as he had your pussy. When his hand slid up to tease your clit once again, your arms gave from beneath you and you thumped on the table, arching your back from the insurmountable pleasure he was giving you. 

He was right. You could cum from having your asshole stimulated. The release that had slipped away earlier came hurtling back like a train wreck, with double the force. 

Stiffening his tongue, he pushed it up your anus as far as it would go. 

 “Fuck!”, you cursed at the intrusion. 

In your endorphin hazed brain, you registered a noise outside the door that sounded like Hoseok’s name. You ignored it at first, the dancer between your legs making you feel too good to care about anyone barging in. 

But then the hesitant voice grew louder. “Hoseok-ssi. It’s Miso, are you in there?”

At first sheer fury coursed through you. And then you smirked. 

“Hobi!” Your voice was so loud the man in question paused in his ministrations for a second. “Don’t stop! You eat my ass so good!”

With a shrug, he happily continued, circling your clit with his fingers just the way you liked it. 

“Oh fuck yes!” Though your volume was exaggerated, you could feel yourself get closer and closer to the precipice. 

This time you didn’t hear the squeak and the rush of footsteps disappearing outside, the blood rushing in your ears drowning out everything else. 

“Baby I’m so close.”

“Cum then. Let me see your pretty pussy cum.”, he growled, increasing the torture on the bundle of nerves he was assaulting with his fingers. 

When you came, everything went white for a second. The scream of his name was so loud, you were sure the whole building heard you climaxing. The seizure like shudders that racked you had you closing your legs and pulling away his hands because of oversensitivity.

Panting on the table, you flopped on your side to calm down. Hoseok bent over you to caress your hair. 

“Are you alright, baby? Did I overdo it?” 

Shaking your head, you got up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No. You are amazing. Your mouth is amazing.”

You tried to pull him down for a kiss but he turned his face away at the last second. “I just had my tongue up your ass, babe. Do you really wanna kiss me?”

“Shut up.” You gave him a deep, sloppy kiss. 

~.~.~

The crew and staff were packing up when you got back to the room after cleaning yourself up in the bathroom. So you headed straight to get your things as well. 

You found Jimin seated at the love seat, idly going through your textbook. 

You smiled at the adorable furrow of concentration between his brows. “You into history now, Chim?”

Jimin hummed, flipping the book shut before looking up at you. “No, but I heard you’re into rimming.”

Cheeks going tomato red, you stuttered, “D-did you—”

“Yeah. You were very loud.”

Groaning you buried your face in your hands. What felt like a good idea at the time, made you shrivel up in mortification now. 

Jimin got up to pull your hands away, giving you an eye smile of reassurance. “Don’t. I loved that you were so loud. I got to know that assplay is not a hard limit for you.”

You gulped. “Jimin.”

He gave you that predatory look, the one he used only in the bedroom, making you shiver. In fear or anticipation, you didn’t know. “Make sure you’re free next Monday.”

 Before you could reply, he picked up your bag, placing your book and laptop inside. “Now. Let’s get you home.”

Glancing around, you found the room almost empty. “Where’s everybody?”

Jimin took your hand, interlacing your fingers. “They’re already in the car. Let’s go.”

The driver held open the door of the Escalade when you two arrived outside. You slid in first, immediately snuggling up against Jeongguk who was seated near the other window. Jimin got in behind you.

Yoongi was up front, with Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung making up the back.

“Where’s Hoseok?”, you asked as the car pulled away from the curb. 

Jin answered you. “He was invited over for drinks remember.”

“Oh.” You remembered. But you’d forgotten to remind him of the anniversary, too preoccupied with his tempting mouth. 

“What’s the matter, __?” Came Taehyung’s sly voice. You glanced at the rearview mirror to see him grinning. When his eyes met yours, the grin vanished in a flash.

You narrowed your eyes, Taehyung’s earlier werid behaviour coming to mind. “Nothing.”

The rest of the ride passed by in relative quiet. Only Jeongguk’s voice telling you about his recent trip back to Busan filled the car. You listened with your head on his shoulder, though your mind was adrift. 

You did not fancy the idea of sleeping alone in a cold bed, one of the boys’ constant warmth against you throughout your nights had spoiled you. You were just about to take Taehyung up on his earlier offer to spend the night with him when the car stopped suddenly. 

Confused, you sat up straight. It usually took twenty minutes to get to the boys’ dorm, thirty minutes to get to your apartment. It had barely been ten. “What is it? Why did we stop?”

Yoongi turned from his seat to look at you with a fond smile. “Your stop’s here, __.”

“What?” You frowned when Jimin got out of the car, holding out his hand for you to take. 

“Just trust us.”, Jeongguk whispered next to you. 

With a deep breath you took Jimin’s proffered hand, getting out of the car in the middle of the street. 

“What if someone sees us?”, you asked, scared someone might click pictures of you two together. “Where are we?”

Jimin shook his head, turning you toward the footpath on the side of the road. “You know where we are.”

When your eyes left his to glance around, your breath caught. Because you did know where you were. 

The lights inside the old bookstore you worked at illuminated your surroundings. Taking a step forward in amazement, you peered up at the two story building, the grey stucco walls of the exterior filling you with nostalgia. After you’d moved into your new apartment almost a year ago, the bookstore became too far out of your way for you commute to daily. You’d also gotten a better paying job working at a cafe. But you’d always missed the quiet of this store, the hundreds of books at your disposal that you had loved to explore. The cafe was too loud, boisterous and hectic in comparison. 

A throat cleared behind you and you turned to find Hoseok gazing at you from above the mask he had donned. The car and the rest of the boys were gone. 

“Did you really think I’d forget, baby?”

Elation surged through you and you barely restrained the sappy tears that threatened to overflow. He held out his arms and you launched yourself at him, making him laugh. 

“So that text was a lie?”

“Hmm.”, he hummed against your hair, pecking your forehead. “They did invite me to hang out but I had to politely reject.”

Hoseok wrapped an arm around your waist. “We should go in. Someone might recognise me out here even with the mask.”

Frowning, you let him lead you towards the front entrance. “Umm, are you sure? Do you wanna pick up a book or something? The lady who owns this building won’t like us having a date in her bookstore.”

Hoseok opened the door, ushering you in. The store was unsurprisingly empty, but you frowned when you saw nobody manning the cash register. 

“The lady who owns this store loves me. So I think we’re good.”

Your head snapped back to him. “Who?”

He pursed his lips, clearly suppressing his amusement. Fishing for something in his pocket, he held your hand out, palm side up. 

“You.” Two keys on a Superman keyring dropped on your palm. 

For a minute you stared at it dumbfounded, not comprehending him. But he spoke before you could bombard him with questions. 

“I bought this whole building in your name. It’s yours.” He closed your fingers around the keys. 

Blinking up at him, you swallowed at the resurgence of emotion within you. “I-umm”, you looked away. “Hoseok I don’t know what to say. It must have cost a fortune. I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can.”, he replied breezily, pulling your chin to make you look at him again. “I know you don’t like working at the cafe. They pay you peanuts there anyway. Now you don’t have to. The earnings from this store will be more than enough for your rent, tuition, bills and everything else.”

“I-I don’t know.” The part of you that wanted to earn everything you received rebelled at taking such an expensive gift. 

“I knew you would be stubborn.”, Hoseok sighed as if pained he was having to say this. “If you want, you can pay me back on your own time, okay.”

Cracking a smile, you gave him a knowing look. “You and I both know you’re not gonna accept a penny from me.”

He gave you a “duh” look. “ See, you’re smart. Now be a good girl and just tell me you love me.” 

You laughed. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cupping your cheeks, he kissed you like he meant it. “Now shall we christen this place?”

“Hobi!”

“What?”, he whined. “The first time we met I wanted to bend you over that table and fuck all the sass out of you.”

Glancing behind you at the old desk and chair you used to spend most of your shift at, you smirked. 

Sliding out of his arms, you made your way to the table, swinging your hips just right. When you reached it you placed your elbows on the surface, bending at the waist to wiggle your butt. 

“Come get me, Superman.”

Hoseok groaned, stalking toward you like a tiger on the hunt. 

A “whooo” escaped you when he gripped your jeans and panties to slide them down in one fell swoop, the garments tangled at your knees. 

“I’ve been hard ever since I got the first taste   of your pussy. I need it rough and fast this time baby.”, he growled, stroking your pussy before sliding two fingers inside. They slid in without any resistance. “Shit you’re so fucking wet.”

“You ate me out so good, I’m still dripping.”, you moaned as he wedged another finger inside your slick entrance. “Use me, Hobi.”

“Fuck.” You heard the clank of his belt and his zipper going down. He gripped his rock hard length to rub the engorged cock head up and down your slit, spreading his pre-cum and your juices everywhere. 

“Put it in.”, you moaned, still oversensitive from earlier. Your battered clit pulsed like a mini heartbeat and from the way Hoseok’s grip tightened on your buttocks, his nails digging in, you knew you were going to be sore after he was done with you. 

Positioning his cock at your hole, he buried himself to the hilt inside you with one hard thrust of his dancer hips. The force jerked you up the table, your hands flailing for purchase. 

“Oh.” You felt full, so deliciously and utterly stuffed. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

Hoseok paused, letting you adjust and bringing his instincts under control. He did not want to hurt you. “You always take me so well. So fucking tight and warm.”

“Move, Hobi.”, you moaned after a second. “I’m ready.”

He set a punishing pace from the start. Clutching your hips in his hands he slammed you down on his dick as his hips surged upward in thrust after thrust. The slapping sound of skin against skin resounded throughout the store. You still had a hard time believing you were fucking in your old bookstore. 

Oh, how far you’d come. From reading smut on this very table to fucking your boyfriend over it. 

“I want to hear you, __. Don’t hold back.”, he hissed through his teeth, his hand snaking down to abuse your already sensitive clit some more.

“Shit shit! Oh my god.” Too much sensation assaulted you.

“Fuck, your pussy is squeezing my dick so good.” Hoseok adjusted his position, his length penetrating even deeper inside you. The speed of his pistoning hips doubled, if that was even possible. The table beneath you inched forward against the floor with his every harsh thrust. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head. This was the definition of a quick, rough fuck. The semi public nature of it shooting a thrill down your spine. The sign at the front said open, anybody could walk in any moment. Moreover though the desk of the cashier was placed sideways, if one wanted to peer inside the windows, they would definitely get an eyeful. 

The idea that someone could be watching you get your brains fucked out, made you even more wanton. Meeting Hoseok thrust for thrust, you reached back to pull his head down to your mouth, the difficult position and the hard slams of his dick inside you meant that you kissed not just his mouth but also his chin, nose and cheeks.

Hoseok laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re desperate, baby.” 

“Don’t call me desperate.”, you whined, biting his chin. “Also please make me cum.”

“Whatever you say.”

He looked entirely too pleased with himself, so you clenched your pelvic muscles till your pussy gripped his cock so tight. 

His thrusts faltered. “Shit baby.”, he groaned. “Of course you’re not desperate. I’m the one who’s desperate.” 

“Better.”

At that Hoseok hauled you up by your arms, circling his hands around your torso to hold you up. The upright position against the table forced him even deeper. He angled his hips just right, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot every time he drove inside you, coiling that impeding pressure in your belly more and more. 

“Are you close?”, he panted against your ear, his finger returning to circle your clit. 

“So close.” Gasping, you tilted your head when he bit the crook of your neck. “Just keep fucking me like that.”

The lewd noises of your love making echoed throughout the room, the rough slaps of skin, the incoherent moans, the table shaking beneath you. His thrusts didn’t relent one bit, battering your pussy till you felt that tingle in your spine building and building. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed a storm, his nails digging crescents into your hips. Your walls clenched around his thick length desperately, the friction of him moving in and out too much for you. 

“I’m cumming, Hobi! Shit, I’m cumming!”, you screamed, just as he circled your clit roughly one last time, pushing you over the edge. 

“Oh my god!” Your second orgasm of the day was just as powerful as the first one, leaving you a barely conscious mess as tsunami waves of pleasure spread like currents through your every nerve ending. 

With you reaching your end, Hoseok fucked you like you were a blowup doll, with the sole purpose of reaching his own climax. He used your poor pussy, thrusting inside with supersonic speed. You clenched around him to help him along. 

“Shit __!” With a shout of your name he buried himself deep inside you, thick jets of his warm cum painting your inner walls white.  After you’d milked him of everything he had to give, he dropped down over you like a sack of potatoes. 

“That was amazing.”, you breathed beneath him. 

“Yeah.”, he panted. Apparently that was all he was capable of enunciating. Both of you caught your breathing, your thundering hearts slowing to a gallop. Hoseok nuzzled your neck like he wanted to burrow himself within you. You chuckled at his neediness.  

Once you’d both calmed down, he got up, taking you with him. After turning you around, he knelt before you. For a second he just watched his cum dribbling down the inside of your thigh, before placing a feather light kiss on your mound, as if apologising to your sore vagina. He pulled up your panties and jeans, fastening the fly. 

Eyes softening, you stroked his hair back from his face, gazing down at him with a smitten look on your face. “I love you.”

He was whipped for you as well. Taking your hand he placed a kiss on the inside of your palm. “I love you too.”

Frowning, you looked out the window. “What if someone saw us having sex?”

Chuckling, he got up off the floor. “Then I hope they enjoyed the show.”

[theladyofdeath]

10 Things I Hate About You {1}

An ACOTAR fanfiction. 

Nessian. Feysand. Elriel. Elucien.

Story inspired by the 1999 classic, 10 Things I Hate About You, and a prompt from anon.

Summary: Cassian gets dared to convince the university’s notorious bitch to attend the Greek winter formal with him. Elain is conflicted between her lifelong crush or the boy with the hazel eyes who makes her feel like more than just a pretty face. Feyre finds herself captivated by her school’s new janitor, but little does she knew that he’s not employed there by choice.

Warning: Rated M for mature.

Author’s Note: WELCOME. Get ready for a hell of a ride. I love to know your thoughts! + comment or send an ask if you want to be tagged.

Nesta loved music.

There was something soothing about a song that could completely enthrall an average person within the first few notes. Nesta would close her eyes, lie on her bed, and listen for hours.

In her studio apartment, she had built floating shelves along one wall, that ranged from the floor to the ceiling. Vinyl records and cds were organized in alphabetical order, by genre.

No one else was allowed to touch them.

Not that she had that many visitors.

But, it was why she had left her last roommate and begun to live alone.

An old, beat up piano and an acoustic guitar sat in the corner, between what served as her kitchen and her bedroom.

There were many days when Nesta wouldn’t even step out of her apartment, or days when the only time she would leave would be to go to the old record store on the corner.

At least, that’s how it was during the Summer months.

Now, it was September and the first day of her senior year at VU had approached. One more year. All she had to do was get through one more year, and she never had to step foot in an educational facility ever again.

It was about damn time.

Nesta had always hated school. Unfortunately, many believed it was necessary for future success.

Nothing like getting into debt that is forever impossible to pay off, just so you can one day make enough to, hopefully, survive.

It was a fucked up system, but Nesta endured it, nonetheless.

One day, she was going to open up her own music store. She was going to be a business owner - a successful one, unlike her father.

Her father stupidly ran his own business into the ground and was so devastated that he neglected to take care of his three children.

She would never be like her old man.

Nesta dropped her towel in front of her mirror and looked at her body. She was much too thin for her liking. She practically had the ass of a twelve-year-old boy. Tilting her head, she took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her lips.

Maybe she should start eating more.

Too bad food was so damn expensive and she had just spent five hundred dollars on books for the semester.

Fucked. Up. System.

Nesta pulled on a pair of jeans and decided on a long-sleeved black tee. She hated how college boys neglected to hide their wandering eyes, so Nesta dressed to avoid such altercations at all costs.

After grabbing her book bag off her couch, she was walking through the warm Velaris streets, her hair still damp from her shower.

She glanced at her phone screen. She had ten minutes to make it to her 9 a.m. class.

After a short curse, she picked up her pace.

She had lived on campus for the first two years but wasn’t a fan of it. Campus life typically revolved around idiot boys pretending to be men and girls who snuck out after hours. Her roommate, the one who touched her records, had a squeaky bed with heavy movement.

It squeaked often.

Although it was more expensive, Nesta decided to live alone just outside of campus. Her apartment was convenient - next to campus, next to the diner in which she worked, and walking distance to the music store. Although she had a car, she rarely used it.

But as her legs began to grow tired, she wondered why.

Her 9 a.m. class was on the far end of campus, so she hurried through a series of courtyards before finally reaching the old, looming brick building.

She pulled out her phone and pulled up her schedule as she entered. British Literature 1. Room 303.

There was a line at the elevator, so she took to the staircase.

She had two minutes to get to the third floor.

And she would have made it if it weren’t for him.

“Hey,” he said, stepping in front of her when she made it to the third floor. “Greek night is tonight. Come?”

Nesta tried to step past him but he followed her lead, handing her a flyer.

“Move,” she snapped.

He grinned, and she met his eyes for the first time. Hazel, bright. His shoulder length hair was a deep, dark brown.

His smile was beautifully dangerous, beautifully horrid.

“I’m going to be late, asshole,” she scowled. “Move.”

He folded up a flyer and stuck it in the side pocket of her backpack. “Fine. See you later.”

“No, you won’t,” she mumbled, knocking into his shoulder as she hurried past him.

She could hear his laughter follow her until she walked into room 303.

~~~~

Rhysand entered Amarantha’s office, already wanting to puke.

She was sitting behind her desk, her red-gold hair in a tight braid. Her eyes met his and she grinned.

“Ah, Rhysand,” she crooned. “You’re late for your first day on the job.”

Rhys shut the door but stayed near it as he replied, “Considering school has been in session for an hour, I assumed it would be okay.”

She raised a brow. “I’ll allow it, just this once.”

He gave her a curt nod.

“Here are your keys,” she said, tossing a ring across the room, which he easily caught. “There is a closet by the gym with all of your supplies. I expect you here from eight to five every day, Monday through Friday. Any step out of line, Rhysand, and you will be sorry. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” he replied, through gritted teeth.

She smiled, charmingly. “So uptight. I like you better relaxed.”

“Is small talk a part of my job description?” he asked, irritated.

“No,” she said, smile unwavering. “You may leave.”

“Fine,” he said, opening her door.

“And Rhysand?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn.

“Say goodbye before you leave this afternoon,” she said.

Rhysand shut the door quietly behind him.

He attempted to reel in his emotions as he strode through the silent hallways. Three years ago, he had been a senior at North Velaris High. Three years ago, he thought he’d be nearing the end of his college career at twenty-one. But, now, he was a janitor.

It’s not that he had anything against janitors.

He actually respected them greatly. They had to clean up some pretty horrible shit, after some pretty disrespectful teenagers.

But, he had never imagined himself as one.

Until now, he was going to VU for psychology. He had worked his ass off year round, even taking Summer classes.

But then, Summer came, once more, and Amarantha…

Knew.

She knew, and she held it over him. She hadn’t been his principle, she was only a few years older than he was. Rumor was, her father got her the job. It was her first year, and she had taken Rhysand with her.

She was keeping him close, keeping him near so she could watch his every move.

And he wouldn’t have done it unless he had to, wouldn’t have taken the job and abandoned everything else if he didn’t believe her threats.

He was caught up in a dangerous game.

A game he hadn’t even wanted to play in the first place.

Rhysand found his way to the janitor’s closet by the gym. After attempting half the keys on his key ring, he finally managed to get it open.

It was filled with supplies, ancient supplies, all that had been used by his father. He stepped inside and flipped on the light switch, brushing his fingertips along the broomsticks and the rags that lined the shelves.

There was a schedule posted on the wall in familiar handwriting.

Handwriting that Rhysand had grown up seeing.

Handwriting that belonged to a man he’d never see again.

Without giving it too much thought, he slipped the coveralls over his sweatpants and teeshirt before tending to his duties.

~~~~

The day passed quickly for Elain Archeron.

She was so busy prepping for Greek night that she’d barely made it to her afternoon class, and when it was over, she ran to Greek Row and into the house of Alpha Delta Pi, greeting her sisters before grabbing a clipboard and beginning her checklist.

It was nearly half an hour after four when two familiar faces showed up on the lawn.

Elain grinned, running to the curb. “So? I just hung the banner. What do you think?”

Feyre nodded in approval as Nesta glared at girls in passing.

“It’s beautiful, Elain,” Feyre smiled. “You did a great job. Sorry we couldn’t make it here earlier, tryouts went longer than I thought.”

Elain had almost forgotten that Feyre was trying out for the varsity soccer team. In her will to get everything set up, it had slipped her mind.

“How’d it go?”

“Good,” Feyre beamed. “They’re posting spots tomorrow. They also let me into two art classes this semester, since I finished all my math credits last year. And we got a hot, new janitor. So, overall, not a bad first day.”

Elain huffed a laugh. “That’s great, Feyre. Only one more year until you’re here with me.”

Nesta hadn’t said a word.

She hated the Greeks and everything they stood for, hated that Elain had spent three years in ADPi, even if their mom had been a part of the same sorority during her time at VU.

“I’m going to go see if anyone needs help,” Feyre smiled, hurrying across the yard.

“She’s brainwashed,” Nesta mumbled.

“Don’t be so hard on her,” Elain scolded. “Just because this isn’t your thing doesn’t mean it can’t be hers.”

“She only wants to join because of you and mom,” Nesta said, crossing her arms. “I mean, look at all of this. You’re all working your asses off to have a bunch of wannabe's ask you a million questions in five minutes, then leave.”

“If you don’t want to be here, why’d you come?” Elain asked, refusing to get angry, but growing frustrated.

“Feyre wanted to come,” she shrugged. “I’m not letting her walk around a college campus alone.”

“She wouldn’t be alone. She’d be with me.”

“You’re busy,” Nesta said. “Aren’t you going out with Vanserra tonight?”

Nesta couldn’t help the way she was. Or, maybe she could and just didn’t want to.

The way she said Vanserra made his name sound like filth.

“Yes, and I’m very excited about it, so it’d be nice if you were excited for me, too.”

“Excited about what?” Nesta scoffed. “Going out with a guy who only wants to take you to dinner so he can leave before breakfast?”

Elain’s brows furrowed. “He’s not like that. He’s not like the rest of them.”

“They’re all like that,” Nesta snapped, before pulling out her phone and sitting on the curb.

Elain sighed, catching the glimpse of a visitor.

He was wearing his typical, black jeans, which had rips in the knees. His boots were old, dingy, falling apart. He wore a plain black tee with a plaid button-down tossed over his shoulder.

Nesta looked up from her screen, fury igniting. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I see you came,” he winked. “It was because of my flyer, wasn’t it?”

Nesta chuckled. “You’re in a fraternity? Seriously?”

He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he looked up. “Hey, Elain. Lovely to see you, as always.”

Elain smiled, even though she felt the need to roll her eyes. “Hi, Cassian. All set up for the night?”

“Nothing fancy,” he shrugged. “Although, there is a party afterward. You should come.”

“I have plans,” she said, politely declining.

Cassian smiled down at Nesta. “How about you?”

“I’d rather bathe in gasoline and jump into a fire,” Nesta spat.

He chuckled and walked away, hands in his pockets.

“He doesn’t look like he’d be a frat boy,” Nesta said after he left.

“Kappa Sigma,” Elain said. “Party frat. We don’t take them too seriously.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, probably wondering why someone would take any fraternity or sorority seriously.

“You know, you probably would have liked it if you finished rush week freshman year,” Elain noted, before crossing her arms and walking toward the house. “At least I made it.”

~~~~

Nesta sat on the curb for a long while, watching as hopeful freshman went from house to house on Greek row.

She had been in their shoes once. Four years ago, she had walked the same walk on Greek row, excited to follow in her late mother’s footsteps.

She hadn’t made it through Rush, though.

She had left.

Had secluded herself.

Had begun to push everything and everyone away.

That week had changed her.

Feyre plopped down next to her on the grass just as the sun began to set. “I think I’m going to stay for a little while. I can get a ride home from one of the girls. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“It’s a school night.”

“Have I ever proven that I’m not responsible?”

Nesta glared at her youngest sister.

Feyre glared back.

She wasn’t wrong. Feyre was probably the most reliable out of all of them.

“Fine,” Nesta said, standing to her feet and brushing off her jeans. “Make good choices.”

Feyre lifted a brow. “Fine. You too.”

Nesta walked back to her apartment, alone, as the Velaris starlight made its appearance.

~~~~

Chapter two coming soon.

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