#he just climbed behind the front desk and started lecturing people about books

[mogcubed]

berdly the type of guy to twitch stream from the library computer desk

[usertala]

Catch Me!

MC randomly jumping from a window below the boys

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon

𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚘

Scrolling through your phone liking whatever Levi posted in his blog not even bothering to read it. You sigh as you throw your phone across the bed. Standing up, you head to your desk to at least have some studying done so you won’t upset Lucifer again.

Reading the book Satan recommended so you can do better at hex and spells, you write things down. Hearing a hearty laugh from outside, you peer from the window to see Lucifer talking to Diavolo with Barbatos on his side.

Barely containing your excitement, you started climbing out the window. “Diavolo! Look up!” jumping from the window, knowing he’d catch you.

And he did. Laughing at your antics, Diavolo refuses to let you go, arms wrapped tightly around your waist and behind your knees. “I must say, I’ve never been greeted like this before, much less by a human.” You grin at him. “There’s always a first for everything, right?”

Hearing a cough in front of you made you fully aware of a pissed-looking Lucifer and Barbatos who was holding back a chuckle. Knowing his friend would lecture you, he had already beaten him to it. “It’s fine, Lucifer. It’s not like I was hurt, they’re very light,” Diavolo chuckles again, although Lucifer doesn’t look impressed.

𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜

You were on the second floor of rad by the stairs talking to some classmates when you notice him talking to Diavolo outside, waiting for the Prince to leave. You tell your classmates you’ll meet them in the classroom.

Seeing as most of the students were in their respective classrooms, you climb out the window, “Barbatos!” you yell from above. He barely looks up but catches you successfully. He gives you a small smile. “I knew you were going to do that, but please don’t do it again. I can catch you, but what if other people can’t?”

You pouted, wanting to catch him off guard but failing. “Who said something about me doing that to anyone? I can trust the others at catching me but I want you to be the only one to do that.” Almost dropping you, you squeaked, “Whoa, Barb, I’m gonna fall!”

He coughed. There was a light pink tint on his cheeks, “Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen.”

Guess you caught him off guard.

𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗

Seriously, MC? You’re gonna give him a heart attack! He’ll catch, but just barely. Catching him off guard maybe wasn’t the best idea... But who cares.

You were in Simeon’s room at purgatory hall, scrolling through your phone, Solomon giving you the idea to jump from the window when Simeon’s arrives. You were reluctant at first, but Solomon made you choose to either do this or you’d be eating a week of his cooking. Of course, you choose to do the former.

Simeon walking towards purgatory hall, holding what seems like a Madam Scream’s paper bag. Another one of Michael’s request, maybe.

Climbing the window, you scream, “Hey, Simeon! Catch me!” before jumping out the window. Simeon, who was carrying a bag of desserts and was already panicking, changed to his angel form.

Flying towards you and meeting in the middle, “MC, what has gotten into you?! That was so dangerous! What if I wasn’t there?!” flying through the window, he sets you down, walking towards the kitchen to put the desserts in the fridge, just as you were about to explain you see Solomon walk in.

You point an accusing finger at him, “Solomon told me to do it or else I’ll have to eat his cooking for a week and you know how dreadful that is!” you hear Solomon’s offended gasp, “Hey, my cooking tastes great!”

“Solomon.” Solomon seemed to freeze as he looked at Simeon who was wearing a tight smile. “Uh, look MC seems to be dizzy from falling. Bye!” you laugh as Simeon runs after him, taking over him with taking care of the desserts.

𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚗

It was actually his idea; he had been practicing a spell that temporarily gives you a pair of wings and wanted to test it out. Frowning, you take the potion from his hands, gagging from the smell. Solomon flicks your forehead. “Don’t smell it, Idiot. Just drink it and you’ll feel the effects in a few seconds.”

Drinking the potion, almost throwing up from the taste. Solomon leads you to the rooftop of purgatory hall telling you to jump, you hit him on the head, “Are you out of your mind? Hell, no!”

He groans, “Don’t you trust me?” rolling your eyes, you respond, “No.” laughing he slightly pushes you towards the edge, “Fuck! Solomon, don’t do that!” raising his hands, you thought he was about to give up, “I’ll catch you from below,” showing you his pinky, “I promise.”

You roll your eyes, “If I die, I’m going to kill you.” positioning yourself towards the edge, you wait for Solomon to appear, testing out the wings your slightly unstable but you think it’s alright if you're just going to fall.

“MC, try jumping!” hearing Solomon from below, you take a deep breath and fall.

Having a peaceful feeling and a sense of freedom knowing you’d be safe - is what you thought you’d feel. Mid-fall the wings vanished. Now you’re screaming your head off, cursing Solomon.

Solomon curses, quickly casting a floating spell. “Don’t worry, I got you... You’re safe. I’m sorry, MC. You must’ve been so scared...” slowly setting you down, you fall to the ground, not having the strength to stand up, you sniffle, you can hear Solomon talking as much as you wanted to listen the ringing in your ears were preventing you from doing so.

You can feel his arms around you, “When the wings vanished all the other specialties were gone.” You were starting to cry, your body felt like it was being crushed, “MC, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now. Everything’s okay now.” Casting a healing spell on you, he tightens his hug.

“I was wrong. I’m sorry. You did well. Everything’s okay now... I’m sorry I was wrong.” Feeling you slowly lose consciousness, he carried you towards his room.

He tells the brothers you’d be staying with him for quite a while.

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[halstudandruz]

Research Purposes ~ Part 3

*Gif: Not mine; credit to @thompsonconnors

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader/ Adam Ruzek x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happened after Adam catches you and Jay? Part 1 (18+) here /// Part 2 here

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I used some dialogue from S6E10, but the rest of the episode doesn’t pertain

A/N 2: Wouldn’t you all be pissed if I ended up putting the reader with Ruzek 😂

You and Jay were on his couch silently eating pizza and watching Hulu. Not having said very many words to each other in the last two hours.

“I didn’t want him to find out that way.” You eventually broke the silence. Jay reached for the remote pausing the show to turn and face you as you sat up away from where you were cuddled into his side. “I mean I wasn’t ecstatic about him sleeping with Hailey, but if he would’ve just told me and been upfront about it I think I could’ve handled it better.” You admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have slept with me in other words?” He joked making you chuckle.

“Oh I still would’ve done that.” You smiled.

“I think he just didn’t want to hurt you. You know Adam. That would have never been his intention.” Jay replied.

“Well no I don’t think he did it on purpose, but I just turned around and did the same thing to him. What if he thinks it was out of spite?” You sighed.

“You don’t have any obligations to each other any more, [Y/N].” Jay shook his head.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, and it’s hard for me to explain to be honest. You have to remember we were engaged. It wasn’t some fling. Our relationship was serious. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to have a family with him, and when it ended it hurt like hell. I know I don’t have any obligation to him, but in order to see him everyday. Work with him everyday. There has to be a different kind of respect, a different kind of… regard for each other than we have with everyone else or it won’t work.” You tried to explain.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him about us?” Jay finally asked.

“Because I don’t even know what’s going on here.” You laughed, “I mean are we just fucking? Cause if that’s the case we should be doing a lot more of it.” You pointed out, reminding him how more and more nights have ended in just a cuddle session in his bed.

“You know I’m not good with emotions and saying how I feel, [Y/N].” He sighed, “I honestly didn’t expect for this to happen. One night of fun turned into wanting you here every night. Ya know? Regardless of whether it ended in us sleeping together or you just... in my arms.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Jay, if they go up in flames and Hailey comes running to you where does that leave me?” You eventually asked the question that had been pegging you for the last few weeks.

“You know that’s not fair to ask me when I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“You don’t think I know that?” You questioned, head falling into your hands, “I don’t know, Jay. Okay? I-I don’t know!”

“What are you saying?” He pushed.

“I’m saying maybe it shouldn’t be this hard.” You shook your head, emotions running through you, tense silence falling between you two again. “I’m really tired.” You admitted, leaning your head against the back of the couch.

“Alright come on let’s go to bed.” He stood up turning the tv off and moving to clean your plates up.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” You asked, biting at your lip and he turned to give you an incredulous look.

“Why would you think I would want that? You know I sleep better with you beside me.” He replied making you smile, body feeling just a little bit lighter.

“Yeah me too.” You agreed, helping him clean a little before going through your bedtime routines comfortably. Sliding naturally into his body once you laid down.

“Goodnight, baby.” Jay whispered into your hair laying a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight.” You said, returning a light kiss onto his chest, nuzzling further into his arms.

“Come on [Y/N] you gotta get up.” Jay tried to wake you with soft kisses across your neck and shoulder. Groaning you didn’t move, “I promise I let you sleep as long as possible.”

“Can we just get my car registered for a spot already?” You whined.

“You’re the one that said that was and I quote “testing our luck and a waste of money.”” He teased.

“I will give my life savings for ten more minutes of sleep.” You replied, sinking further back into Jay’s warm chest.

“No, no, no!” He lectured rolling away from you.

“Ugh, fine.” You grumbled pulling yourself out of his bed turning to see him lying in only his boxers, “Are you trying to provoke me?” You gestured to his body causing him to chuckle.

“If I wanted to provoke you I could do a hell of a lot better than this.” He smirked, “Plus I already got my own shower this morning so no go.” He shooed you away getting up to riffle through his dresser. Rolling your eyes you trudged to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The ride to the district was filled with a comfortable silence, the tension from the night before gone. He put his truck in park after pulling up behind your car.

“Just so you know I’m gonna stay at my place tonight.” You informed him, reaching for the door handle.

“What? Why?” He practically whined, but a nervous tone seeped in as well.

“Because I see you all day everyday and I would like to binge a carton of ice cream without your judging eyes on me the entire time.” You joked.

“I do not judge you.” He defended.

“Uh huh of course not babe. See you in a few.” You leaned over to give him a quick kiss before climbing out of the truck.

When you got to the district Trudy whistled to you summoning you over. You stood in front of it, hands clasped together on her desk. “Goodmorning.” You stated cautiously.

“Wanna tell me why rebel without a cause looks like someone pissed in his coffee this morning?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“No, I do not.” You replied.

“Well then just a friendly warning to step cautiously today.” She looked back down at her desk nodding her head towards the steps.

“Yeah..thanks Sarge.” You sighed moving to buzz in. You could feel the edginess when you entered the bullpen, but you couldn’t tell who else had noticed it. “Goodmorning.” You mumbled passing everyone on the way to your desk. Luckily everyone was able to work normally despite the obvious agitation in Adam’s demeanor, but per Platt’s advice you stayed out of his way as much as possible.

“Alright so we do it the old-fashioned way. Farm it off. Every beat cop and CTA worker, get every gang and tact unit across the city. If someone knows this guy, that picture’s gonna be enough to spark it. Ruzek, you run it past Mark.” Hank ordered before moving back into his office. Everyone nodded moving towards Jay’s desk to make plans. Adam moved off on his own and out of the corner of your eye you watched Hailey follow behind him. Sighing you looked back to Kevin making mental notes of the plan he was laying out to Jay.

“Alright let’s roll.” Kevin shrugged on his jacket when you heard yelling in the distance. The three of you exchanged confused glances before you easily picked up Adam’s voice.

“It’s Adam and Hailey. They’re downstairs.” You informed the two men, detouring your route to hurrying down the steps, their voices only getting louder as you made your way towards them.

“I’m not gonna talk about policing with you again!” Adam’s distinct voice carried.

“I care about you, I care about you and I-“ Hailey fought back, stopping to turn when she noticed the three of you enter the room.

“We can hear you guys in the stairwell. What the hell are you doing?” Jay asked, looking between the two. Hailey looking guilty and Adam standing at defense, restlessness clear in his frame, from more than just the conversation you were guessing.

“Nothing. It’s fine. Sorry.” Hailey cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“You cannot be having this conversation here. It’s not the time or place.” Jay warned, glancing back up the steps.

“Oh but it’s a perfectly fine place for you to stick your tongue down [Y/N]’s throat?” Adam bit back and you watched Hailey’s eyes go wide flicking between all of you.

“What?” She asked and the look in her eyes at the information pinged a feeling of jealousy deep in your stomach.

“Oh yeah you didn’t know?” Adam took a step towards Jay, anger radiating off of him.

“Watch yourself. Who do you think you're talking to?” Jay straightened his body, jaw clenched.

“I’m not scared of you, Halstead. I’m not some rookie straight out of the academy anymore.” Adam pointed out.

“All of you, cool it.” Kevin whispered harshly stepping between the two men, ”unless you want Voight to find out whatever is going on here I suggest you all get back to what you were supposed to be doing.” He ordered. Adam threw you a cold glare before maneuvering around Kevin and heading up the stairs.

“We’re supposed to be out securing an ID.” Jay grumbled stalking out of the door, Hailey following behind slowly.

“To be a fly on the wall in that car.” Kevin winced looking back to you.

“Yeah.” You laughed dryly. Starting to walk towards the parking lot.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” He tried to reassure you once he slipped into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Kevin knew more of what was going on then anybody else did. You and him had been partners in crime since your first day at the district and even before that in the academy. Your partnership was comfortable and he knew you better than most people. You had each other’s backs always, and even though he was best friends with Adam, who had without a doubt been chirping in his ear about his discovery the night prior, Kevin always remained neutral. So, you knew he would lay it straight for you. He found out about you and Jay the Monday after it had happened. You were pretty good at hiding stuff, but not with him. He could read you like a book.

“This is such a fucking mess.” You huffed watching out the window.

“Well I’m certainly not going to tell you you’re wrong there.” He agreed blatantly, “You should’ve been more careful.”

“You don’t think I know that, Kev? But it’s done now. He knows and I have to find a way to deal with it. I don’t even understand why he’s so mad. He’s doing the same thing with her, and I didn’t act like a jealous teenager when I found out. What he just did was unnecessary.” You sighed heavily knowing that there was more to the story. “I know he’s going through more than just this. I can tell this case is getting to him and he’s struggling and honestly it kills me that I can’t be there for him. It kills me every time I can’t help him through it. I miss him and what we had, but maybe it is for the best. But.. I don’t fucking know! How am I supposed to know?” You slammed a fist against the dashboard and Kevin didn’t even flinch. Adam was impulsive and had a short fuse, but what had happened a few minutes prior was not something Adam would do on a normal day.

“So, what are going to do about it?” Kevin asked looking over at you expectantly, but all that came was silence. You didn’t know. Did Adam still want to be with you? Was that why he was so angry or was it just a lingering reaction? If he was jealous, if this thing between you the two of you was still a possibility then what? Plus Hailey knew now. What if that pushed her in a direction you didn’t want her to go? Maybe it opened her eyes. Maybe she was confessing her feelings to Jay right now in his truck and that scared you. An uncomfortable selfish feeling radiated through your body at the thought. The unknown was starting to terrify you. The possibilities, the factors, all of it was too much and you weren’t sure how it was going to play out.

You had finished the case getting out of the district at a decent time that day. Which you were glad for. The room was starting to feel too small. You needed space to breathe and room to think. Which is exactly what you did. For hours until you came to a conclusion. You loved both of them, but in the end you knew who you wanted, who you needed.

You couldn’t keep dragging them around like this. Dragging yourself around like this. You were going to figure it out and you were going to face it head on. Walking up to his door your heart was racing. You had already made up your mind, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared to actually face it. Taking a deep breath your knuckles lightly rapped the door. How were you supposed to tell someone you loved you didn’t want to be with them? Shifting on your feet you couldn’t help, but chew on your lip, anxiety only heightening when the door swung open.

“We need to talk.”

All Taglist:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3 @wanniiieeee

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda @sofferderynnp

Taglist for series: @miranda0102 @5sos-imagine @5hundreddaysofsummer @a-f-f-a-n-c-u-l-o

[skei-seems]

Professor Reid (PART 2)

(Click here for PART 1:)  https://skei-seems.tumblr.com/post/642651570175148032/professor-reid

Summary: (con’t) After a steamy interaction with her professor on a school trip and a bad misunderstanding, Y/N tries to make up for her mistake when a new opportunity arises.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Category: Smut [NSFW]

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Swearing

A/N: Thank you for all the love on part 1. Please like/reblog, I would really love to hear your thoughts and feel free to send me requests. Hope you guys like it! :)

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Spencer didn’t know what had caused you to change so suddenly, he wanted to talk but you were so good at avoiding him. He wanted to tell you it was all a mistake, that it never should have happened, but the other part of him wanted, no needed, you in every way.  Prior to the trip he dealt with a bad breakup - his girlfriend cheated on him - and it had pushed him far enough to want your sweetness and innocence more than ever.  If only you would let him talk to you...

      A sharp wind of breath swirled into his lungs when he saw you that evening, you looked breathtaking.  Your hair flowed perfectly around your face, and your body fit so well in your tight clothing, he adored that you always wore sneakers despite the rest of the group’s formal attire.  He just couldn’t avert his eyes from this goddess of a woman.

-----------

      He was looking at you like a meal.  Those melting eyes still sent shivers down your spine. Annoyed, you occupied yourself with your phone while the group waited in line.  The booming music made it difficult to hear yourself think once you were all inside.  The place was modern and extremely crowded, and the music more popular and recent.

      The song playing was not to your taste, though there was something about the loudness sending vibrations through your chest, and the strong amount of perfume and cologne in the air that reverberated into an intense excitement in the pit of your stomach.  Some of the group seated themselves at a table overlooking the crowded dance floor, the rest scattered out to join the dancing bodies or to get drinks. After getting a drink, you took a seat across from Professor Reid. He watched you tentatively through the first bit of the night, and you shifted a little your seat. Those penetrating brown eyes through his blonde curls had the tendency to burn holes in you.

      You bit your lip, an idea had lit up in you. You downed the last of your drink and headed straight into the crowd, and joined their rhythmic movements. Soon, a good looking guy your age started to dance with you. He was cute, you couldn’t deny that, but he wasn’t... him. Nevertheless, it was part of your plan. Initiating phase two, you moved closer until you were dancing like you and Spencer had the other night. Your eyes wandered around until they landed on him, he was staring at you, eyes lit with a fire that you could see even from the distance where you were standing. You smirked, and continued moving without breaking eye contact. Suddenly, and without warning, the handsome stranger you were tangling with pushed his tongue down your throat. OK, none of that, you thought to yourself. It had not been part of your plan. Fed up, you pushed the horny man off of you and strode out of the club.

      The fresh air was a relief like no other. Not even halfway through a night at the club, and you had already had enough. You rested against the wall of the building, a spot where there wasn’t a crowd of people waiting in line. Before you could make a move to start walking home, a slim body appeared in front of you.

“What was that about?” Professor Reid’s voice came out as husked, right against your face as he pushed both of his hands on the wall beside your face, trapping you between him and the wall.

Unable to conjure up an explanation in the closed proximity, you gulped and looked into those two orbs of honey. 

You pushed him away, regaining some posture. “What was that about? Really,” you spat out. “What’s you-having-a-girlfriend about?!”

The bit of shouting had caused adrenaline to course through your body, your chest was heaving. He looked taken aback at your accusation.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his tone changing to a much softer one.

“I heard you on the phone in the cafeteria.”

He slowly took a deep breath. “That was my little sister, really.” 

      The look in his eye told you he wasn’t lying, you didn’t have to be a profiler to see that. For a moment you were dumbstruck, but the professor spoke again before the silence stretched too long.

“I did have a girlfriend,” this information came differently as you previously took it, when it was just an assumption. “I broke up with her not long ago,” he looked away, “she cheated on me.”

      Guilt quickly built up in you, unlike it had before when you thought you would be a wedge in someone else’s relationship. No, this was something new, something mixed with shame. 

“Professor,” you finally said. “I’m... sorry.”

The smart eyes studied you before he shook his golden curls. “You didn’t know. But if you think the other night was a mistake, I get it. It’s fine, we can forget about it.”

Hesitation and guilt kept you from telling him otherwise, your mouth just opened and closed. He pursed his lips, then called a taxi to take you back safely to the hotel. 

-----------

      It had been weeks since the trip, you hadn’t spoken a word to Professor Reid except for a few short answers in class. He seemed back to his old self. You tried, but each time you saw his beautiful golden hair and those god forsaken eyes, and those soft red lips - you could not forget how they had felt on yours - the slick feeling of hunger and lust grew from the pit of your stomach and rose up to your throat.

      You were deep in thought when the door of the classroom swung open and pulled every student’s attention from whatever they had been busying their thoughts with. It was the head of your University, what on earth was she doing here? She searched the class and her eyes landed on you, “Ah, Miss (Y/L/N).”

Trying not to freak out, you hesitantly replied, “Yes, ma’am?”

“Could I borrow a moment of your time after class?”

Wide-eyed, you bobbed your head up and down. “Of course.”

She smiled, then looked at your professor. “Oh, and you as well Doctor Reid, my office.”

      He immediately looked at you, but seemed much less alert than you had. Still, butterflies wove their way through your intestines at your mutual gaze. He broke the eye contact and nodded at the Head Mistress, with that, she left.

      You wanted to communicate with him through telepathy. “Does she know?” Ridiculous, you thought, then cheekily added, “your ass looks good in those pants.” The professor continued with his lecture, you desperately tried to fuse down the blush that had crept up your cheeks and resumed taking notes.

      Not until class was over did you remember the request of the Head Mistress. You didn’t even know where her office was, so you silently followed Doctor Reid. The two of you entered after knocking. She was sitting behind her desk with an eager expression.

“Please, have a seat.”

The two of you lowered onto the leather stools like two naughty school children in a principal’s office. 

“We heard back from the university of your expedition. They said without Y/N, their research project would have been drastically insufficient.”

Professor Reid looked over to you and smiled. “Well I must say, she is one of my best students.”

Your cheeks flushed crimson again. The Head Mistress nodded in approval. “But that’s not why I called this meeting.”

Frozen in your seat, you awaited your fate. Could Spencer hear your heat racing from next to you? Why was he not this nervous?

“I called you in, because I have elected you as your year’s representative to compete against other students across the country in FBI preparation and criminal analogy.”

“Of course,” she continued, “I called Doctor Reid here too as I would like him to be your mentor for the preparation and duration of the program.”

This information was baffling you. “I don’t know what to say, ma’am. I’m, honoured.”

In truth, you were mortified. Hours alone, studying with Professor Reid? You could barely focus in class, but one-on-one? Impossible.

--------

You were dreading your mentor meetings. The schedule the head mistress had set up for you indicated twice a week, and that was twice too many. Most of them were in the universities library, and some in his classroom. Nervously, you strode through the isles of old books until you found him in the far corner. He looked perfect, like a beam of sunlight, so at home between the rows and piles of books.

“Y/N,” he smiled up at you. It was so easy for him to act normal.

“Hi sir,” you avoided his gaze and sat down.

      Your study session went slowly, and with immense difficulty to concentrate. It was like he was burning you from the other end of the table, unaffected by your presence. Sometimes he would get up and grab a book to show you something, leaning over your shoulder to point out a certain word or image. 

      When it was over, you were so relieved you almost left without saying goodbye. You had started to doubt whether this was going to work at all, until you spoke to your best friend. Her advise was that, if he didn’t let you focus, why should you allow him to focus? You mulled it around for a while, and decided that it was either that, or you’d have to ask for a new mentor. But you knew that would raise question, or worse, hurt his feelings - which you had already done once. 

      From a distance, you could see how utterly childish the idea was, but he had not satisfied your need of him that night back at the hotel. You still craved him, his lips on yours, his hands over your body and him inside of you. You knew some part of him had wanted this too.

So, the next meeting you showed up in the shortest skirt you could find in your closet, and an oversized sweater. What was underneath was a mystery. Professor Reid’s eyebrows climbed his forehead when you entered, he had been reading a book but almost dropped it when he saw your bare legs. A smirk crept up your face, your plan was working.

Sooner or later you knew he would break, or stop you. Of course, he was a profiler, he could see the signs of attraction, nervousness, lust, and whatever else you could possibly feel for him - oblivious to the fact that he had the visible emotional range of a teaspoon. (I hope y’all got that reference) 

“Would you mind fetching the following encyclopaedia for me?” He asked with a layer of honey coating his sexy voice.

You happily obliged and after searching for a while you realised it was on the top most shelf behind him. Perfect. You grabbed a chair and walked over to the section, climbed on top and reached your hand to the book, making sure your skirt hiked up. “This one, sir?” You asked, looking down at him. A low string of swearwords were mumbled from below you. Doctor Reid nodded and quickly looked away from your exposed bottom, occupying himself with tapping his pencil.

Smiling, you seated yourself again and started rolling the back of your pencil between your mouth as he explained something to you. His eyes briefly traveled down to your lips, then back to your eyes. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie with those large, veiny hands of his - your thighs pressed together. He was making you squirm just by existing, literally anything he did turned you on. When he was deep in focus, he pulled his lip between his teeth or raked a hand through his loose curls.

You let him rest for the next twenty minutes, then decided to take things up a notch, test the waters, if you will. You two were sitting side by side, him facing a little toward you, each focused on diagramming statistics from multiple books, when you “accidentally” dropped your pencil between his spread legs. 

“Oops,” you giggled slightly, quickly getting down before he could.

Taking longer than needed to retrieve the fallen pencil and getting down on your hands and knees, you slowly looked up at him from your position. His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t look away. From between his legs you spoke, “I’m so clumsy today,” and batted your lashes with innocence.

“I see that,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. 

You got back into your seat, he resumed his work. Maybe your plan wasn’t working, he still seemed calm and collected. You sighed, and were ready to call it quits, when you felt a hand on your thigh. 

When you looked over he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were on the book on the table and his other hand was tugging on his collar. His touch was sending tingles straight to your core, and you almost moaned when he started rubbing circles on your inner thigh. Damn it, you thought, he was winning now. You didn’t want him to remove his hand, but you didn’t want him to have the upper hand either. So, you stood up - momentarily earning his gaze on you again - and sat on the edge of the table close to him, your legs dangling against his thigh that was facing you. 

He looked up at you with suspicion. “You aren’t supposed to sit on the tables, you know.”

Your higher ground provided some confidence, you leaned in a little to him and in a whisper voice said, “We aren’t supposed to fuck on them either, how about we break more than one rule today?”

His pupils dilated and he pulled his lip between his teeth again, then abruptly stood up. “My office. Now.” He pulled you behind him as he lead the way.

--------

By the time you had gotten to Spencer’s office, your nerves had worked themselves up into snakes in your stomach. He was pulling you by your wrist, and slammed the door behind you once you got inside. You were pushed once again by those strong hands against the door, he kissed you. The feeling of his soft mouth on yours sent fireworks off behind your closed eyelids. It was bliss. You wove your hands through his hair, but he suddenly stopped kissing you.

“What makes you think you can talk to me like that, and tease me in a library full of people,” he whispered in a husky voice next to your ear, sending tingles down your back.

You bit your lip, the dominant side had come out again - and this time, you were happy to hand over the role of the upper hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl, but I’m gonna have to punish you for that.” The excitement was building up between your legs at such a fast rate you were afraid it would soak completely through your tiny underwear.

“First” you said, and lowered onto your knees in front of him, “let me try to make it up to you.”

He watched you with his mouth open, and moved his hands to your hair. Smirking, you undid his belt and took him out, he was already hard. You licked up the underside, then swirled your tongue over the tip. This earned a loud moan from the professor, and an even louder one when you took him in completely. He guided the rhythm with his hands in your hair as you bobbed your head along his length, taking in what you couldn’t fit with your hands. You felt him twitch, then he suddenly drew you away and pulled up his pants.

“Enough,” he breathed out heavily, “I still want to fuck you.” His words sent chills down your spine. His hair had fallen into his eyes, his shirt and tie hanging askew - this messy look was your favourite.

You wrapped your hands around his neck as he picked you up and carried you you over to his desk, where he reattached your lips. You weren’t getting enough of him, even though your hands were exploring all the places they’ve been missing, until he grabbed your thigh and pushed his hardness onto your core. Electricity sparked between you two. A moan left your swollen lips, and he took this as a sign to continue rubbing onto you.

“You like feeling me against you?” 

“Ahuh,” your reply came out as a half moan.

He put his mouth next to your ear again, “Wait till you feel what it’s like when I’m inside.”

His lips attacked your neck as he pulled off your sweater, only to discover you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. He clicked his tongue, “bad girl.” Shaking his head, he turned you around so you were bent over his desk. A hard hand landed on your behind. Instead of moaning, you inhaled sharply. “That’s it, not too loud.” He approved, and trailed his fingers up between your unclothed thighs.

You felt a little nervous like this, of course you had been fucked before, but never like this. But you wanted, and needed him so badly. “Sir,” you pleaded.

He chuckled, and rubbed you through your underwear, causing you to close your thighs around his hand. In disapproval, he separated your feet again and pulled off your underwear completely. You were left only in your skirt.

“We’ll leave this on,” he huffed, stroking the waistband softly.

The anticipation was too much. He snaked both of his hands around your waist and pulled you closer into a standing position. Now, his lips sloppily kissed into the crook of your neck as his hand moved down your stomach. A gasp left your mouth when his hand reached down there, slowly rubbing your sensitive part. Your body was squirming against his hand, and his free one came up to your throat. 

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed against your cheek.

“I-” you moaned again when his finger started rubbing faster, “-I want you inside of me!”

He smiled, “That’s what I like to hear.”

His fingers left your soaking area, causing you to moan at the loss of contact. You heard him fumbling with his pants again, then felt his bare harness stroke against you, which produced another moan. He bent you over his desk again, and without warning, slammed into you. Adjusting to his size was difficult, but when he gradually started pumping in and out it gave some relief. Your breathing was now coming out as loud sighs every time he dragged back into you, steadying himself by holding your right hip by hand and using the other to hold onto the desk.

“Faster,” you pleaded.

He swore and started pounding harder, in and out. Moans filled the air of his office. The fast rhythm was now building into a climax, you were getting closer with each thrust. You knew by the sounds coming from him that he was close too. “More,” you almost yelled. He obliged and thrusted until you were hitting the desk each time he pound into you. Pressure started to build up in your legs, you were so close. He grunted and continued slamming into you, every thrust feeling harder and deeper than the last. You moaned loudly as you reached your climax, the warmth causing him to reach his own. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he pulled out. You shakily sat down, out of breath and satisfied beyond what you had ever imagined possible. 

“That’s my girl,” he cooed and kissed you once again after pulling on his pants.

Professor Reid looked at you with the same intrigue that made you need all this in the first place, and for the rest of the mentoring, this continued.

--------

A/N: I will be writing more Spencer Reid x reader, please send me requests (I will also write for characters from other shows/movies/books).

[doormarrow]

The Infamous House of Lamentation Cuddle Pile

Idk if this is a headcanon or a fic, but here we gooooo

The Curious Incident of the Infamous House of Lamentation Cuddle Pile

Let’s just say MC had a no good very bad day. It might have even been a lost-a-bet-and-had-to-eat-Solomon’s-cooking kind of a day

When they got back to the House of Lamentation, it was time to collapse. The floor of the common room looked *very* tempting, but they trudged up to the attic.

It turns out that Belphie was there first, much to MC’s surprise. MC noticed lumps in the bed, sure, but assumed that they were pillows and did their best dramatic flop, squishing the demon in the process. 

You would think Belphie would be startled; But if you think this exact same situation hasn’t happened with Beel before, you’re wrong.

He just lazily turned to MC, long enough to give them a grumpy look, and then buried his face back in his cow pillow. He may or may not have been secretly glad to *be* a pillow, but he would never tell. 

But where there’s one, there’s undoubtedly the other. Beel came looking for Belphie a minute or two later, wanting to relax and watch a movie (possibly with some popcorn). When he saw Belphie’s head peeking out from underneath MC, he smiled a bit to himself and settled beside his two favorite people in the world, propping himself up on the headboard. He’s a careful cuddler, and if he can’t be on the bottom of the pile, he will be as gentle as demonly possible.

MC was satisfied that the attic sandwich was now complete, but now there were voices downstairs, echoing in the entryway. They tried to snuggle deeper in between Beel and Belphie to drown out the noise, but the door burst open.

In came Asmo. He had been looking for the MC ever since he heard they came home tired, wanting to make sure they were alright, and that they got enough sleep last night. He was stopped in his tracks though. He had always thought the attic sandwich was overwhelmingly adorable (and maybe he was just a bit jealous of it as well) but this was a whole other plane of existence. He rushed over, and promptly put an elbow on Belphie to lean over and tell MC how adorable they were. He began to chat about his day, and the best posts he saw on Devilgram, never stopping to acknowledge the occasional snarky comment from Belphie. If allowed, he will absolutely begin playing with MC’s hair. 

Luke shows up a bit out of breath and peering around the door. He had just escaped the commotion downstairs and almost turned around when he saw yet more demons, but when Beelzebub motioned him over he sighed, defeated, and trotted over to the bed. Beel pulled up his knees, and Luke plopped down cross legged in front of him, beginning a tale of being called a chihuahua yet again by Lucifer. And so the pile now numbers 5.

Simeon marched up the stairs to find the very smol angel. Simeon, like Asmo, wholly endorses cuddle piles, albeit he suspects not in the same way. He politely asked to join the pile, and somehow manages to do it quite gracefully, lying side by side with the MC, while staying in head-pat range of Luke. He couldn’t help but think about how wonderful it was that the MC had brought them all together like this, and he began to drift off, wondering about how best to translate that quality into Henry...

Satan came up to try and find a quiet place to study, as now his least favorite demon was tearing up the house, trying to find Mammon. He debates briefly whether or not to move on to the library, but Asmo caught him as soon as he poked his head in the door, and pleaded for him to join the rest of them. Satan sighed, but a puppy eyed look from MC convinced him to settle on top of the headboard and try to continue his reading as best as he could. MC, now thoroughly squished by demons and some angels to boot, was positively beaming. Satan could swear that if he listened close enough they were actually purring, and a smile crept across his face, almost without him realizing it. Once he did however, he used his book to shield his face (and his now very prominent blush) from view.

Levi shows up with a laptop, looking very grumpy. He has been spam texting the MC for the last half hour because they said they would stream the premiere of the new TSL movie with him. He is even more grumpy when he realizes that the MC is sandwiched in a bunch of normies, but when given puppy eyes will begrudgingly set up the projector in the attic to watch the movie there. When he’s invited to attempt to sit on the  now-very-full bed, he gives them all the look of utter horror, but once more pleading eyes from his Henry win the day. Levi gingerly sits on the very edge of the mattress closest to MC, mumbling about normies and covering his face. He startles a bit when Belphie starts snoring from the depths of the pile, but otherwise settles in.

This did not last long. Shortly after the movie starts, in a tense scene between the Lord of Corruption and the Lord of Fools, the door bursts open again, scaring Luke into Beel’s chest. Mammon was doing his best impression of Cerberus’s zoomies, and dove headfirst into Levi, knocking him further back into the pile. He then proceeds to burrow as fast as he can, trying to hide. After explaining in very hurried terms that unless he hides now his future is upside down and attached to the ceiling, he covers himself with the edge of a blanket. His brothers (except perhaps, for Beel, who personally thinks that Mammon is great for hugs and therefore great for cuddle piles, and Belphie, who at this point is mostly unconscious and couldn’t care less as long as the MC remained on top of him) all internally debate kicking him out of the pile, but a murderous look from the MC puts a stop to that. MC grabs another edge of the blanket, and they create a tent to keep in the warmth. Levi.exe stopped working, as after being knocked over he was now directly on top of the MC. He might’ve complained about Mammon, but at the moment his brain was too overloaded from how impossibly cute the situation was. Not even in his favorite team sport anime was there anything that could have prepared him for this. 

Solomon shows up not long after, waving his DDD in the air with a suspiciously familiar picture— Levi nearly shushes him, but when he took a closer look at the picture on the phone, he blushes hard and retreats under the blanket. On his DDD is a selfie Asmo took with the whole pile behind him. 

“Asmo, you called?” Solomon is grinning ear to ear, and without asking sets himself down beside the mischievous Avatar of Lust. Asmo does his best to make room for him, not wanting to exclude anyone from the monstrous pile. Solomon, being a human, takes up no where near the amount of space that, say, Beel does, but his legs just couldn’t quite fit. He solves the problem by making an ottoman himself, drawing some glowing purple rings and symbols in the air beside the bed and crossing his ankles over top of them. He congratulates Levi on his choice of movie, and leans against the pile to watch.

They all get to about the midpoint of the movie, when Asmo feels that he’s somehow forgetting something. Something, or someone important… He was about to forget it when Diavolo climbs through the window asking “dID yOU FOrgET ABOuT ME” appeared in the doorway, looking utterly offended.

He quickly forgives them for apparently forgetting to invite him to the cuddle party, and advances on the bed. He stops, turns around and oh no he’s doing a trust fall—

The whole pile groans and Levi wonders if he’ll be able to breathe again. Diavolo, on the other hand, could not be more delighted, putting his hands behind his head and asking about the movie. 

Barbatos watched, amused, from a corner of the room. No one is exactly sure how or when he got there, but that wasn’t at all unusual for Barbatos. MC asks him to join, which prompts Levi to silently plead for his lungs, but Barbatos politely declines. Being pestered further however, the prince in particular putting up a strong argument, Barbatos gives a slight smile and manages to find a single open edge to precariously balance on. He laughs a bit to himself, at the very least glad that everyone is getting along for once. MC is pleased, but both they and Asmo could still tell someone was missing…

Lucifer was having a difficult day. He couldn’t find Cerberus, who was due for a brushing, and he had begun to worry about the MC, who came in with a face so beaten down that it made him of all people feel beyond exhausted. On top of that, Mammon had the audacity to inform him that he had planned a spur of the moment get together at the House of Lamentation with Purgatory Hall, Diavolo, and Barbatos in which he promised that Lucifer would do the cooking.

Mammon had disappeared, and so Lucifer sat down at his desk defeated. He would message Diavolo in the meantime, asking to perhaps try a different day, or to go out to Ristorante Six instead. He picked up his DDD to do so, but something nagged at the back of his head. The House of Lamentation was too quiet. The last time the house had been this quiet, Satan had rigged a glitter bomb in the kitchen that took several decades to wash out. He still shuddered at the thought of green glitter. He was brought out of his thoughts as the DDD rumbled in his hand. A new Devilgram post? The image that came up was from Asmodeus’s account... 

Mammon was busy arguing with Levi about how no I don’t want ta cuddle with you weirdos, I’m just lookin out for my best interests, s’all. What dya mean tsundere? Look who’s talking scale boi when the poor, beaten-and-abused attic door was slammed open once again. 

Lucifer loomed, putting on his best lecture face. Mammon was so far beneath the pile at this point that Lucifer would have to pry them all apart to get to him. 

“What in the Devildom do you think you’re doing? Being cute won’t get you out of this.” Lucifer begins to explain that snuggling the Prince of the Devildom is improper at a time like this, Mammon should learn not to pull others into his promises, etc. Barbatos is unimpressed. Lucifer definitely thinks this is cute, but he would never, in any time or realm, admit it.

He continues uninterrupted, but something can be heard padding up the stairs. A minute or so into his speech, he is suddenly toppled over, careening headfirst into the pile.

Absolute confusion from everyone involved, and a very, very grumpy Lucifer. Also chaotic laughter from Satan, who is now directly above Lucifer, sitting on the headboard.

Cerberus has arrived, claiming his spot atop the pile. He proudly sits on Lucifer’s chest, as if to say to the MC, look what I brought, aren’t I a good boy?

Lucifer makes an attempt to get up, but then Diavolo, Asmo, Simeon, and the MC began pleading with him to stay a while. He melted a little on the inside, but when the MC grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving he broke, and resigned to stay, just for the moment. He closes his eyes, for once relishing the fact of being surrounded by his family and closest friends. Cerberus curled up on top, content that he had brought the last piece to his puppy pile.

And so they stayed like that for the rest of the night, even after the movie ended, only pausing for Asmo to get his softest blankets and pillows from his room. Satan got drowsy while reading his book, eventually nodding off and moving from the headboard into the pile, and accidentally leaning on Lucifer and Cerberus. Lucifer was more than surprised, but he vowed not to move a muscle so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping bookworm. Diavolo took the other side of Lucifer resting his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, and even Barbatos relaxed against the pile, folding his hands on his chest, and glancing every once in a while at Luke to make sure he was comfortable. Mammon and Levi shared their spot squishing the MC, heads together and snoring lightly. MC hugged and held hands with whoever was closest by, occasionally shifting their weight to hopefully make Belphie more comfortable. Asmo and Solomon leaned on each other on one side of the bed, Asmo co-opting his magical ottoman and curling up as best he could. Simeon, oddly content with his spot near the bottom at the pile, was dozing away peacefully, somehow still graceful but letting out a small, perfectly pitched whistle as he breathed in and out. Last but not least, Luke had rolled himself into a tiny angel ball against Beel’s chest, and Beel left one hand on his head at all times. Beel was the last to fall asleep. He was too busy smiling, feeling fuller now than he had in ages.

All photo evidence of the event mysteriously disappeared, and that was how the infamous House of Lamentation cuddle pile happened, cross my heart and hope to sneeze.

RIP Belphie

PS Asmo is platonic and non-platonic cuddle king, fight me on it.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Case Closed

note: Chris talked law on Prime Time again last night, so I felt inspired to write a second part of my Lawyer!Chris fic (you can read the first part HERE) sorry for eventual typos

enjoy :)

words: 2900

warnings: swearing, smut (dirty talk, oral, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it irl, please))

“Your honor, the jury finds the defendant guilty of all charges.”

Oh. OH.

This was absolutely glorious. You couldn’t dance in court, of course, but on the inside, you were definitely having a victory parade.

A triumphant grin split your face as your gaze wandered across the courtroom over to the defense desk.

Chris Cuomo, the defense lawyer, looked absolutely crestfallen. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and he couldn’t even utter a word. Serves him right, smug bastard, you thought.

You had made an excellent case, a new witness and some very compromising documents were able to convince the jury of the defendants guilt despite all of Cuomo’s efforts to keep his incredibly whealty client out of jail.

The judge announced the sentence, and now Chris just slammed his fist on the table. This was getting better and better, but you told yourself to keep your smugness at bay, no need to stoop as low as your opponent and gloat.But there was something else you definitely needed to do, something you couldn’t let Christopher Charles Cuomo get away with.

After the defendant was taken away and you had packed up all your papers, you slowly made your way over to his desk.

“So, I was wondering if you are going to keep that horrendous tie on for dinner tonight? Because I plan on wearing a dress and I would hate for us to clash color-wise, you know.” You said, barely able to remain serious.

The look he gave you was so murderous, it sent a shiver down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was out of fear or arousal. You were still a bit sore from your encounter in the parking lot yesterday, and you really hoped on repeating it. Riling him up was just foreplay to you.

“If you’re really suggesting that I will take you out for dinner after that dirty game you played today, you are even crazier than in originally thought.” he hissed. The vein on his temple was back, pulsating as if it was threatening you.

“Dirty game?” you almost shouted, then pulled yourself together so you wouldn’t draw the attention of the people still lingering in the courtroom.

“Your client was guilty as hell, even you with your twisted sense of morality should see that. And you lecturing me about playing games, pot calling the kettle black.” You whispered furiously, unable to keep your unfazed façade on any longer.

“About dinner, you invited me yesterday, so you’re either not a man of your word or a coward. Maybe even both.”

You hit home with that, you could see that on the way Cuomo’s fists clenched around the papers he was holding, scrunching them up. Men were so predictable, you thought, call them a coward and they will do every stupid thing in the book to prove you wrong.

But you wanted dinner and, most of all, dessert, so playing into his insecurities was fair game this once.

“There’s a new Italian place on 5th avenue, across from the Public Library. I know the owner, I’ll get us a table. Be there at eight.” He muttered and was gone in a hurry.

Of course he knew the owner.

“I look forward to it.” you called after him, fake cheeriness in your voice.

+++

As agreed, you stood in front of the restaurant at eight. You wore your favorite dress, it was bright red and showed just the right amount of both legs and cleavage. You thought that you looked stunning, and you knew Cuomo would appreciate the look as well.

The roar of an engine pulled you out of your thoughts, and you spun around to where a familiar black SUV was pulling up. You rolled your eyes, if you didn’t know it better you’d think Cuomo was compensating with that car.

It stopped and he emerged on the driver’s side. And Lord help you, he looked fantastic. He wore a tight-fitting black suit and a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, showing a peak of tanned skin beneath. You wanted to climb him like a tree in the middle of 5th avenue. The confident, almost arrogant way in which he carried himself was infuriating and incredibly hot at the same time. Why was he so attractive while being such an asshole?

Your thoughts about his appearance were clearly written all over your face, because when he addressed you, he sounded even more smug than usual.

“Hi, Y/L/N, enjoying the view? I have to admit, you really clean up nice, I’m impressed.”

“Shut it, Cuomo.” You said, unable to suppress a smile. “You don’t look too horrible yourself.”

“Come on, I look great and we both know it.” he chuckled. And of course, he was right, but his ego was already big enough, no need to feed it any more.

“You look alright, I guess, but don’t to get ahead of yourself.” You said, “And now you better take me inside so I can have the amount of wine I need to make your company tolerable.”

+++

The food was absolutely delicious, and the wine the waiter recommended was so good that the two of you drank a whole bottle. It was Friday anyway, so no need to hold back.

What was really shocking too you was how good the conversation was. After a bit of initial bickering and arguing about which country produced the best red wine, you slowly started getting more comfortable with each other. The atmosphere was eased by the wine and you discovered that Chris wasn’t a completely horrible person.

Yes, he was a smart arse and cocky, and so fucking full of himself, but he was also incredibly clever, had surprisingly progressive views and on top of all he loved dogs!

When he told you that his favorite food were his mother’s spaghetti marinara, you could not suppress a little “aaw”. He looked at you funnily, but you just gave him a smile.

Your were slightly confused. This evening was supposed to be about you eating some fancy food for free and getting on Cuomo’s nerves (and maybe getting laid later).

But now, you were actually enjoying his company, and he didn’t seem hostile towards you, either. He hadn’t even brought up the trial, or how you allegedly played him dirty. Instead, he was actually listening to what you had to say and engaged into meaningful conversation.

You really were surprised, and when he was signing the bill later, you took your time to appreciate his appearance again while taking your newfound knowledge about him into consideration. Maybe he wasn’t the devil in person. Maybe, there was an actual decent human being under that expensive suit.

The two of you decided to go for a little after-dinner walk in the nearby Bryant Park, your favorite in NYC, and, as is turned out, Chris’ as well. Conversation shifted to growing up in New York and how your experiences differed from each other. But, as you found out, Chris actually grew up in a Queens neighborhood not too far from your own home, a fact that surprised you immensely.

“I could’ve sworn you were born on the Upper East Side.” You admitted “You certainly look and act the part.”

“I’m not gonna lie, prep school and Ivy and Law school certainly played a role in this. And of course, the firm I’m working for is high end. You’re expected to conduct yourself in a certain way. It’s a shark tank, you eat, or you get eaten. But I don’t have to tell you that.” His voice was quiet, almost wistful. He sounded like a totally different person.

“If that’s Queens Chris I met tonight, then I like him a lot better than this Cuomo guy from court.” You said, stopping and looking up to meet his blue eyes.

“You’re not the only one, I like him better as well.” He replied, meeting your gaze and reaching out to take your hand. His fingers were warm and rough as they intertwined with yours, holding his hand felt shockingly natural.

There were definitely sparks flying now, you could not deny it. You were drawn to this guy, and not only because of his good looks, but really attracted to the person behind the persona, you desperately wanted to know more about him.

“Tell me.” You whispered. “How did this happen? We were about to kill each other this afternoon and now were standing here, holding hands?”

“You tell me.” He murmured, and then he leaned down to kiss you. It was nothing like you expected, he was tender, gently cupping your jaw with his large hand, his thumb stroking over your cheek. His lips were soft and pliant against yours, a contrast to how hard and broad his body felt when you leaned against him to deepen the kiss.

The hand that was previously holding yours slipped around your waist and pulled you closer. You fisted your hands into the lapel of his suit jacket and what began as an innocent kiss grew increasingly steamy.

You groaned as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue inside your mouth and reached up to grab the short hair at the nape of his neck. He hissed into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening.

You felt heat starting to pool between your legs and telling from the bulge that was beginning to press against your abdomen, Chris was sharing your sentiments.

“How fast is that ridiculous car of yours?” you panted, a bit breathless from the kiss.

“Very fast.” He replied, a grin on his slightly flustered face.

“How about we take this to your place before we get in trouble for public indecency?”

“You weren’t that concerned about it yesterday.” He chuckled “But I don’t care for the headlines either, so let’s go.”

+++

The door to Chris penthouse (you were right, of course he had a penthouse) slammed shut, and a second later, you were pressed against it by two strong arms. Chris effortlessly pinned your body against the wood with one hand while the other one fumbled with the side zipper of your dress.

The garment dropped to the floor, leaving you with only a matching black set of underwear on. Chris eyes wandered over your body and he swore under his breath before attacking your bare neck with his mouth, kissing and sucking on the skin, probably leaving another bruise.

“You’re really marking me like a fucking caveman, Cuomo.” You gasped, the effect of his lips on your skin evident, you were already slick with need.

“Come on, Y/N, you know you enjoy it.” he whispered, and you only groaned as an answer as he softly bit the junction of your neck and shoulder. You could hear his dark chuckle before his hand started to unclasp your bra, exposing your tits to the cool air of the hallway.

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, and you couldn’t suppress a whimper at the feeling of his hot mouth against your sensitive skin. Slowly, his large hand wandered between your legs, rubbing your pussy through your panties before pulling this last item of clothing down as well, only your black high heels remaining.

Releasing your hands, Chris slowly dropped down to his knees and grabbed one of your ankles to prob your leg over his shoulder. You let out a sharp hiss as his mouth wandered to your inner tight, leaving a trail of soft kisses before he reached your center. His fingers slowly dipped into your wet folds, spreading your arousal before he started to lightly circle your clit with his tongue. You cried out and threw your head back against the door, one of your hands fisted into his curly hair, pushing him closer between your legs.

“So bossy.” He murmured. “And so fucking wet for me.” Suddenly, he pushed two of his thick fingers into you while harshly sucking on your bud. White, hot pleasure surged through your body as you came on the spot, your knees almost giving up as you bucked against Chris’ face, coating it with your arousal.

“Fuck.” You whispered, slowly coming down from your high. Chris got up, looking very pleased with himself. You grabbed him by his dress shirt, pulling him in for a deep kiss and grinding your naked core against his very prominent erection.

“Bedroom. Now.” He groaned against your lips and kissed you again. Your hands were busy unbuttoning his shirt, tearing it from his body. It joined the rest of the clothes on the floor. You took a moment to admire his now exposed, well-muscled torso. He looked like fucking Greek god, and you wanted to run your hands and tongue over every inch of his tanned, smooth skin. You needed him, now.

“Fuck me right here, I don’t care.” You whispered, palming his erection before starting to work on his zipper.

“Filthy girl. You want me to rail you against the door.” Chris murmured, before pulling his pants down along with his underwear. His cock sprung free, hard and heavy, making your mouth water. With a swift motion, he grabbed your tights, effortlessly lifting you up against the door. The blunt display of strength just made you even wetter, your hands were grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Stop talking and fuck me already, Cuomo.” You groaned, and a second later, he pushed his cock into you, the sudden stretch making you cry out in pleasure. He wasted no time, immediately starting a hard, fast pace.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Chris hissed through clenched teeth. “You are so fucking tight. Taking my cock so perfectly.”

“Shit, Chris, please keep moving, just like that.” You whimpered as he fucked you relentlessly, a stained expression on his face. He never slowed down his thrusts while he was holding you, it was like watching somebody run a marathon. Seeing him handle you like that was mesmerizing, bulging muscles glistening with sweat, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. You were starting to feel slightly dizzy as your head hit the wooden door with each thrust, but you didn’t care.

Chris leaned forward to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, biting into your lower lip and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You let out a guttural cry as he eased his grip on your ass a bit, making you sink down onto his cock even more. The different angle created a totally new sensation, causing both of you to groan as Chris was thrusting into you even deeper now. A powerful, burning feeling was beginning to form in your lower stomach, quickly spreading through your whole body with every hard snap of his hips. Chris name was falling from your lips like a chant now, begging him to keep fucking you, to go harder, deeper.

“Who would’ve thought that you’d beg me to fuck you against my front door.” Chris said in a husky, breathless voice, never slowing down his thrusts. “Little Miss Perfect is not so perfect after all, huh?”

You couldn’t answer, your mind was fuzzy, and the only thing existing was the feeling of Chris, his large hands grabbing your ass, his hot breath on your skin, his cock filling you over and over again.

You were already hanging on the edge of your orgasm, but when he leaned down to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your shoulder, the raw pain and the sheer possessiveness of the gesture were the push you needed to spiral down into your climax.

You came with a shout, your whole body convulsing, squirming against Chris. He moaned as he felt your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing him until he came as well, calling out your name, his cock buried so deep inside you that you were sure you’d be limping tomorrow.

Neither of you moved for a minute, your sweaty foreheads pressed against each other as you tried to catch your breath. After a moment, Chris carefully pulled out and lowered you onto the floor before collapsing next to you with a huff. His hair was sticking to his forehead and his breath was tickling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. You were surprised by that motion, you had expected a cocky comment or a crude joke, but not this.

When he broke the kiss, you could see his trademark smirk spreading over his face as he inspected the hickey he left on your neck, tracing it with his fingers.

“I might really be into leaving marks on you.” He said, “A little reminder of the good time I gave you.”

“You really are just a caveman, aren’t you? Also, it seemed as if you enjoyed yourself as well.” you replied, your hand involuntarily reaching out to play with a lock of hair that clung to his face.

“I did, immensely so. In fact,” he said, voice going serious for a moment. “I’d like to repeat it, sometimes. Maybe even with another dinner, if you would like that.” His face was passive, but there was a softness in his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“Are you really asking me on a date, Cuomo?” you exclaimed, the fake astonishment masking the giddy excitement you felt about the question. You wanted to go out with this idiot so bad, you could hardly believe it yourself.

“Looks like it, huh.” He murmured, and if you didn’t know it better you would’ve thought he was embarrassed.

“Hey, I’d love to go out with you, Chris.” Your voice was as sincere as you felt.

Chris gave you a brilliant smile, then winked at you.

“You know, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway.”

[im-pretending-imthere-already]

by the warm current

As kids, my sister and I spent our summers near the river, often falling on our long garments. Our knees scraped and bruised by the sharp rocks that lay beside the strong, warm stream. The hot days rushed by as we spent our hours playing under the hot, blinding sun. If my sister adored anything, it was birds. Often we spent our days searching for them in the scorching heat of the summer, looking for all the wings that have been neatly crafted, threaded into shape. Our collection of feathers of all colours were kept safe, hidden to preserve their infinite beauty, kept in a wooden rustic box under our bed. The box neatly tucked away between the sheets that were perfectly stored by mother. One grim evening, one of my older siblings had found our box hidden between the worn out blankets, that night we were forced into womanhood, our childhood was stripped away from us. Our summers were no longer warm, our knees left with scars.

What is it to truly be a woman? A question I still struggle with. Reverend Michael often referred to womanhood as preparing to serve God by serving your husband, which we spent the following years doing, leaving our ambitions and dreams of independence behind. Our personalities were to be crushed under the high expectations of becoming nothing other than slaves which men used. Our days were spent caring for our younger siblings who occupied our time dirtying the floors we just scrubbed. Our womanhood, reduced to becoming mothers and leaving our aspirations for our sons. Too tall, too confident, too short, too skinny, too immodest, too fat, too lanky, too talkative, too hairy, too loud, too aggressive, our existence is nothing more than a checklist for men to choose from. Growing up, I admired adulthood. I admired the idea of growing up to serve my husband, the idea of dressing modestly and spending my time cleaning, to become a woman. But as I grew into that woman, I began despising it.

My teenage years were regulated by the women of the church who made it their mission to crush my dreams, my life was to be sacrificed for god. Waking up to the screaming children of the church who demanded breakfast, my days were the same every single day. After the tedious mornings of cooking, cleaning and caring tirelessly, we met the citrus trees sprinkled with the soft dew on their delicate leaves in the community garden as we planned to prepare our annual lemon pie. Every year we were to prepare a feast full of food, including our lemon pie as the dessert for the mating party. This glamorous party was only a facade, a sweet glaze over a dark oppressive, controlled, and abusive future. This year was different, however, as I was becoming a woman of age, all day I had been thinking about what was to come, the life I was forced to have, pushed into a designated role my whole life. This is it, this is the dream of the church, this is what my life was to be, what my family had planned, what the reverend had envisioned.

That day I realised I couldn't do this, after seeing all the women blatantly eyed by the men of the church, scanned from bottom to up, graded as if they were a gift to be expected, a helpless little kitten to be chosen from a shelter or rescued from a basket left on the road. My older sister stood beside me, we glared at each other exchanging the same thoughts. Our life was more than this, our dreams were not to be forgotten, hidden in the blankets of our mind. I had heard about a couple of people who had escaped before, I didn't know how to but we had to get out. That night I decided to do the unthinkable, I had to make a plan, I had to take action, I had to escape this cage and fly away.

Reverend Michael was my father however he was never a typical father, more like a shepherd grazing his sheep, controlling us to become nothing more than slaves for his sick fantasies. He slept in the cabin house beside ours, but I knew he was going to arrive late today due to the ceremony, like every year before. It was the perfect time as if the universe aligned for our freedom. In my nightgown, I slid out as my sister was fast asleep. The night was dark, the air thick and foggy, the moon barely lit watching over me as I ran barefoot, in my white gown to the reverend's cabin. I knew where to look, under the vase he kept his spare key, which I used to unlock his door. I walk in knowing exactly where to find what I'm looking for, his diary, kept in the last drawer of his desk conveniently hidden in between his bibles. I flick through the delicate pages looking for something useful when I stumble across the gold mine. It wrote the name of a woman named "Angela Zachery" and her cabin number''14", suspected of breaking out "Mary Williams". I quickly close the book, return his diary precisely into its spot and leave the same way I entered, leaving no trace behind me.

The coming night my mind was occupied with one thought, cabin 14. I couldn't just leave, I had to make sure it was clear. It took a couple of nights which felt like forever but eventually, I got there. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a Friday night, everyone had got to their cabins early after a hard day of work and the daily evening lecture was longer than usual. The pathways were empty, the road clear. I made my way, a little more professional than the night of the ceremony, in my brown dress and handwoven cardigan that wrapped its threads around my shoulders supporting me through my journey. If I was found by any person or even if "Angela" was a scam I would end up 6 feet deep into the ground before sunrise. I took the chance walking across the church to his cabin, no one was around, no one to be seen spying. I knocked on the door anticipating the worst, painting the images of my death. My life dissolving into nothing more than a forgotten story in the depths of my memories, an old story tale kept at the back of a dusty bookshelf. The door opened ever so slightly as I felt the fear shake through my body. She grabbed me inside so hard I stumbled inside falling to my knees in front of her as he shut the door aggressively. I introduced myself and explained my story and she sat there listening. Her eyes stared at me aggressively yet with a shadow of love. Her agreement brought me feelings, flushing my skin, red. Independence, freedom, individuality, expression, life. All books that she dusted alive within an instant. My dreams of independence and freedom rushed back through my bones to the crevices of my every thought. It was scheduled for Thursday night.

The night before the escape was probably one of the hardest and most important nights of my life, I was breaking the cage and finally getting the opportunity to fly, but the thought of leaving everything and everyone I knew terrified me. I wasn't to ever clean after my siblings, but I wasn't ever going to see them again. I wasn't going to have to make lemon pie for the church, but I wasn't going to celebrate with all my family ever again. Laying in my bed I couldn't get my eyes to shut as I laid there staring at the ceiling. The only support holding me together was the sheets I laid in and the light breathing of my sister beside me.

My bags packed, my thoughts collected, my breathing stable. This was it, this was my freedom. I get to leave and not look back. It was starting to get dark, the last evening to spend in this hell of a place. The trees rustling in the wind and air smelling of wood fire. I had kissed each of my younger siblings goodbye, hoping I would remain alive in their memories. My sister spent that evening reading, which we did often. An outlet we used to let our imagination roam free to live the lives we wish we had. As we put our coats on we stared at each other with fear, the sun had set and the sky was so empty reflecting the withdrawal we were to be hit with. We looked at each other and left, never to set foot in the cabin ever again.

Angela has sent some, waiting for us. He had a car organized outside the fence, we just had to make it outside. In the dark night, we threw our long dress off and climbed the fence gripping the holes with all our strength, looking back I could see Angela in the distance leaving. Climbing faster and faster, our bodies shaking with fear, our hearts anticipating our freedom. Hand over hand, foot over foot, we rose higher and higher. It felt like forever until we reached the top, then at the tip I stared into my sister's eyes when I heard a bang! My soul left my body for a moment from the fear as I saw my sister's body growing limp, her back falling into the fence becoming one with it. I stared into the sky for a moment, knowing I was targeted, I had no time. I had to leave my sister behind, running my way down the fence. I felt the wind brushing my cheeks, the heat irritating my skin. As I reached the last few steps I fell onto the floor, my vision blurring into two. There was no option but to get up, leaving my sister hanging on the fence and running into the truck.

As fast as my life gained sweetness it got bitter again. I stayed in a home with many people, I had food and clothing. But life without my sister was hard, the image of her murder remaining drilled into my head. I saw the soul leave her body, I saw her life end. I often wonder how different things would have turned out if I never left, if I was caught, if we moved a metre to the right if we left on Friday?

My favourite place grew to become the beach, reminding me of the warm river my sister and I loved ever so dearly, connecting our dreams to every nook of the world. As I sit here today, on the warm sand, I often find myself looking beside me to find my sister's spirit constantly gifting me with feathers. Today I have the privilege of sitting on this beach, feeling the wind through my hair, the cool breeze on my shoulders and my sister's feathers can be forever stored, kept safe and loved, not to be a secret but to be a memory of resilience.

-F.A

[kitsutaes]

pluto protector

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, coming of age-ish, bffs2lovers!, astrophysicist!reader, & artist!taehyung

word count: 2.6k

rating: pg-13 i guess

warnings: none

a/n: this is inspired by rex orange county’s song pluto projector, a song i love so so much. also this fic is split up into small parts & it focuses more on tae’s and reader’s small but important moments together !! i hope you like it even though it isn’t too heavily edited. p.s. thank you teresa / @sketchguk for looking this over !! you da best !!

summary: you and taehyung have been in the same galaxy, orbiting one another for as long as you could remember. but as time passes, gravity pulls you in closer and closer, ready for the two of you to collide.

Kim Taehyung was your protector. Just at the age of nine, Kim Taehyung held your hand as the two of you ran around the playground, feet hitting the wood chips that spewed around. His disheveled chocolate brown hair bounced around as he ran, eyes bright as he turned around to look at you. He had a goofy smile plastered on his face, exuberant as any nine year old at the park with his best friend should be.

“___! Let’s go on the swirly slide!” Taehyung yells, pointing at the bright red slide ahead. The playground near your neighborhood was huge since it was already part of an already massive park. While the park had its own variety of plants and wildlife, the playground consisted of slides, swings, monkey bars, and corkscrew climbers that allowed you to climb up and slide down like you were going down a fireman’s pole; only round and round instead of sliding straight down.

“Okay, but only if we go on the monkey bars next Tae!” You respond, swinging your arm that held his hand. Your eyes matched his, bright and bubbly. Taehyung nodded as the two of you climbed the blue steps that led to the big red swirly slide.

“You first or me?” Taehyung asks, letting go of you hand to grasp the yellow metal bars on the sides of the red slide. You roll your eyes, seeing his mischievous grin, basically telling you he was he was ready to go first.

“You.”

Sticking out your tongue at him, Taehyung takes off, gravity pulling him down until his sneakers hit the ground. He turns around, motioning for you to slide down.

“C’mon ___!” Taehyung calls from below. His arms are crossed as he waits for you to come down. You nod, your own hands gripping the metal bars Taehyung previously held onto as you’re seated on the bright red plastic. Letting go, you slide down, feeling parts of your hair stick up to the underside of the slide.

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he knows what’s coming next. You’re up and off of the slide, ready to chase him and zap him with your finger charged with static.

“___! Come and get me!” Taehyung giggles running off to the opposite side of the playground to avoid getting shocked. You’re right behind him, but you trip on your own foot, falling onto the wood chips.

Instead of a smile, you’ve got a pout on your face. Eyes turning red, brimming with tears, ready to cry. Taehyung’s looking back at you with a worried expression, heels turning around as he’s running back towards you.

“Tae!” You cry as his arms are helping you up, feet standing upright once again. His hands are gripping onto yours, leading you back to where your parents were.

“It’s okay ___, I’ve got you.”

At the age of twelve, Kim Taehyung was still your protector. Although you ended up with different teachers and classes, the two of you didn’t drift apart like most friends did as they entered middle school. Most kids ended up finding new friends, groups, cliques–forgetting and leaving the friendships they made when they were just a few years younger. But, you and Taehyung weren’t like most kids. The two of you stayed together in gravity’s grasp, never leaving the solar system you shared.

Just like always, after school, Taehyung came over to do homework with you since you shared the same subjects. His green backpack would be plopped onto your carpeted floor right beside yours, colored pencils and papers almost spilling out of them.

“You had to read The Monkey’s Paw too?” You ask turning around in your seat, nose scrunching at the thought of the story Mrs. Tang read to your class today that gave you the chills. It was a story written by W.W. Jacobs that just had to be a part of your English class’s “Poetry and Short Stories” unit and you couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Taehyung was seated on your bed while you were seated at your desk. Taehyung looks up from his math homework, nodding at you. 

“Yeah, I kinda liked it.” He says, giving you a small shrug as you shudder.

“It was creepy!”

Taehyung laughs at your expression, your face showing that you were totally repulsed that he slightly enjoyed the supernatural short story that was required to be read in every 7th grade class.

“Just a little bit,” he responds as he looks down at his homework, “I bet you’re enjoying science right now though.”

Taehyung was 100% correct, you were loving science this week. This week’s unit was about space and that was something you held close to your heart. There was just something about the universe, galaxies, protostars, and planets that intrigued you to no limit. You wanted to be like Neil deGrasse Tyson and Carl Sagan, exploring the vast universe full of the unknown. Just last year it was announced that Pluto would no longer be considered a planet and just that, broke your heart to pieces; Taehyung was there to witness it. Your love for the little planet was undying, feeling as if it deserved much more appreciation just like Neptune and Jupiter. In your eyes, Pluto was something special.

“Yes, oh my gosh! We get to make a presentation of a planet of our choice, and I’m still picking Pluto. I don’t care what Mr. Peterson says.” You scoff, a determined look gracing your face as you turn back around in your seat.

In that very moment, in Taehyung’s eyes, you were something special.

Graduation had finally fallen upon you. After days of graduation practice, you were finally here; sitting in the risers, that was placed on the fifty-yard line of the football field, clothed in your graduation gown that possessed one of your school’s colors. The night had overtaken the sunny skies, leaving you and your fellow classmates and friends underneath the shining stars as well as the bright stadium lights your school used for all sorts of events.

Your parents were in the stands, most likely with Taehyung’s family, along with other parents and family members of graduating high school seniors with their phones and cameras taking pictures to capture this once in a lifetime moment.

You didn’t graduate a valedictorian or salutatorian, but at least you made it until the end. It may pain some to hear it but grades aren’t everything. Despite getting kids into higher level colleges, grades don’t and can’t define a person, you learned that the hard way. High school’s about learning about yourself and the people you surround yourself with. Are they real friends? Do they talk about you behind your back? To you, it’s about exploration, finding the people who fit you well and help you shine brighter like the stars, and hopefully avoiding space debris that just get in the way.

Taehyung’s seated a few rows above you with only a few people separating the two of you, meaning you’re still able to make faces at each other, winking and scrunching your noses while the ceremony proceeds.

He looks great, handsome even. Dark locks trimmed just for this special event, since his mom made him. His bright eyes are shining even brighter with the reflection of the stadium lights as you peer up to look at him. 

Seeing him like this, you realize how grown up he looks. Despite only being eighteen, the Kim Taehyung sitting a few seats away from you definitely does not look like the Kim Taehyung you met in 3rd grade. That Taehyung you met years ago is still somewhat the same as the Taehyung now, but just older, more mature–not mature, but more. It makes you realize how time flies, because it literally just seemed like yesterday where Taehyung first moved in a couple houses down from yours. Your neighborhood was full of elderly people, so when you found out a kid your age had just moved into town, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic to the point where you bugged your mother to take you to meet your new neighbors.

You smile to yourself as you look away, eyes reaching the stars that you were always fond of. 

This was a moment you hoped you would remember forever.

“I felt like gouging my eyes out.”

Taehyung’s eyes roll at your complaint. You just came out of your physics class with Mr. Garcia’s lecture picking at your brains during the entire hour and a half. You and Jungkook (the only person you knew in that class) walked out looking as if your souls had left your body; even though that was exactly what happened. The two of you part ways with a tired wave as he had another class to attend. 

Taehyung had been waiting for you since his class finished a few minutes before yours. He was nose deep into a book when you find him sitting on a bench just outside your building. His bright blue hair made him easy to spot anywhere. He made you dye his hair before the semester started, insisting on trying a brand new look.

Before the two of you graduated high school, you’d done college applications. You’d gotten into one of your dream colleges, opening the acceptance letter in front of Taehyung and your parents. Taehyung on the other hand, didn’t tell you what college he got into until after the graduation ceremony. It led to you punching his arm while exuding tears of happiness. Now, at the age of 21, you’re spending your time attending classes, studying for exams, while downing cups of coffee during breaks with your best friend.

“Seriously ___, your fault for wanting to be an astrophysics major.” Taehyung scoffs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you head off to one of the coffee shops you and Taehyung frequent the most. Fortunately it was close, just a couple blocks away.

Smacking his arm away, you frown. “You say that every single time.”

“I’m just stating facts.” Taehyung shrugs, wrapping an arm around you again, and this time you don’t fight it.

Your own arm wraps around his waist, gripping onto a part of his coat. Taehyung, even though you didn’t want to admit it to anyone else but yourself, made you feel safe. Whenever he’d scoop you up into his arms for a hug, or just had his arm around you as you two walked down the street, it made you feel loved. Knowing that someone cares in this world full of fortunate and unfortunate events, is one of the greatest feelings in this world. 

“I wish I was still in astrology 101 or 102, learning about the stars, black holes, and the Milky Way,” You say, grinning cheekily at the man beside you. “—not the chocolate.”

“I literally wasn’t even going to say that.”

“Liar.” You snort, nudging his side with your elbow. The two of you have reached your destination, ready for caffeine that you’re desperate for. Taehyung’s arm has left your shoulder, a certain warmth departing with him, as he opens the door for you like the gentleman he’s always been.

“What do you want?” He asks as you both reach the cashier and glass display case showing an ever so wonderful variety of pastries to eat with an already amazing cup of coffee.

Peering through the glass you see some newly added goods, alongside the usual but you already have your order in mind.

“I’ll have a macchiato and some madeleines please,” You say to the woman manning the cashier with a soft smile, while taking out your wallet from the small pocket of your backpack. Taehyung’s hand stops you, handing his own credit card to the lady who grins cheekily at the two of you. She was around maybe thirty years old.

“Tae—”

“And I’ll have a hot chocolate please.” Taehyung’s lips are pursed, nodding his head as she repeats your order.

“You guys are a really cute couple by the way,” She smiles, handing Taehyung back his card along with the receipt while you’re left standing there staring at him with wide eyes as he thanks her for the compliment.

At the age of 24, you’d think you would have plenty of things figured out. You don’t.

But at this age, you’ve learned that things really aren’t constant in the world, and that everything’s prone to change. Although somehow, there’s one thing in your life that hasn’t really changed.

“Tae, where are we going?” You whine, head leaning on the car window. Taehyung had just picked you up from work, a long day of work, and all you wanted to do was go home.

You and Taehyung had been dating for awhile now, after he admitted his long time feelings for you when he took you to his studio and painted you your favorite planet in the Milky Way. His feelings for you were returned, having loved him ever since you were kids as well. Now, he spends most of his time at your apartment as if you two shared it; not like he didn’t do that before already. 

“___, you’ve asked me that 5 times already and I told you that it’s a secret.” He says, turning his head towards you for a moment before looking back on the road. You don’t see it, but he’s sporting a small smile on his face. Taehyung’s been waiting to show you this secret of his for quite some time.

Your head isn’t leaning on the window anymore as you recognize where you’re headed to. “Wait, we’re going to your studio?” The road to Taehyung’s art studio is one that isn’t too familiar but isn’t unknown as well.

After a few more minutes of driving and parallel parking (which actually doesn’t take Taehyung long to do it) you’re already standing in his studio, gazing at his works of art.

“Tae, these are incredible.”

While you’re gaping at his paintings, Taehyung’s laughing at your reaction to his creations. This is the first time in a long time you’ve visited his studio, and the first time in a long time that he’s shared his pieces with you. While you’re studying about outer space and the secrets of the universe, Taehyung’s in his studio painting his heart out whenever he wasn’t busy.

Whenever he was in the mood to paint, he’d enter this zone, totally blocking out anything and everything, letting his passion for the arts take over. Sometimes when he’d pick you up to have a cup of coffee or when he’d come over to have dinner at your apartment, he’d have paint marks all over his hands and occasionally his face. 

Like you with your science idols, Taehyung admired plenty of incredible artists who worked with various mediums like, Claude Monet, Keith Haring, and especially Vincent Van Gogh. Taehyung had this affinity for Van Gogh’s artworks that even he couldn’t fully explain why he loved them so much.

“Wait until you see this,” Taehyung says, reaching towards one of the canvases he had stacked and leaning on the side of his wall.

You’re so immersed into some of his other paintings you don’t realize he’s right beside you, ready to reveal one of his latest pieces. Taehyung loved to experiment with different mediums, always trying to find his niche. You noticed even though he painted a variety of things, he loved to paint scenery. You could feel yourself getting absorbed into his creations full of lush greens and calming sunsets, fluffy clouds, and sometimes quite the opposite.

“___,” Taehyung nudges you, poking your cheek to get your attention and it definitely works. You’re turning your head, eyes catching a painting of Pluto that looks exactly like the real deal, as if you’re seeing the planet with your own eyes.

“I love you ___. As much as you love this little planet and as many light years it would take to reach other universes out there.”

[kpoptrassshhh]

Pebbles & Stones

Part of the EXO ongoing series- 1976

Genre: SkaterAU! X HighSchoolAU!

Rating: (PG-13) (M-some parts)

Pairing: SkaterGirl!FemReader X SkaterBoy!Baekhyun

Setting: California, 1976

Summary: Sarcastic. Rude. Down-to-Earth. Blunt. Just a few of the words people would use to describe you. People seem to think only two things of you. One, you’re a very intimidating person. Two, you and your skateboard are attached to each other. Skating is the only thing that has truly ever brought you happiness, besides your best friend Asia. Well, it was the only thing that brought you happiness. Until a man by the name of Byun Baekhyun decided to hop into your life. The only thing you keep telling yourself? He’s damn lucky he skates.

Warnings: teenage smoking and drinking (wild i know)

“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Asia spits at you, speed walking down the hallway towards Mr. Kims English class. This is the third time you both have been late this week. 

“Hey, would you relax? We’ve got a great reason,” you say, rolling by her on your new Sector 9, longboard cruiser. 

“Oh yeah! Let’s just walk in there in front of the whole class and say, ‘I’m so sorry we’re late Mr. Kim! Y/N got pissed last night and instead of chilling out and listening to music like I told her to, she decided to break her skateboard for the second time this week, so we had to run to the strip mall before school so she didn’t have a mental breakdown without holding her fucking board!’” she sarcastically screams.

“It’s the truth,” you say shrugging, stepping off the board and kicking it into your hand as you hear a stressed sigh come from your best friend of six years. 

“I give up. Lord, if you can hear me, I. Give. Up. With. This. Child.” she says exasperatedly, looking up to the ceiling with her hands flying up along with her shoulders.

“Yeah, you said that six years ago too. Annndd he still hasn't taken me from your life,” you say smartly, smirking at her as she stares straight daggers at you. 

“Come on, let’s just get this over with,” she says defeatedly, walking up the classroom door and knocking loudly.

Mr. Kim glances at us through the window of the door with a disappointed and somewhat annoyed expression. He walks over to the door, unlocks it and stands in front of the entrance to the room. 

“There better be a good reason as to why you two have been late for my class for the THIRD time this week,” he says in a booming voice that would make almost anyone cower in fear. But not you.

“What up Mr. K? You see what happened was-” you begin but are abruptly cut off by the tall man standing in front of you, waving his hand dismissively. 

“I don't care. I’ve had enough of this, both of you have detention this afternoon,” he states plainly, walking to his desk and pulling out a pink slip, writing both of our names on our on respective slip. 

“Both you take your seat,” he demands. 

Asia practically runs to her desk while you roll your eyes and saunter over to yours, throwing your book bag onto the ground and setting your board down gently before looking out the large window beside you. 

It’s a nice day. Sun shining, blue sky, a cloud or two here and there. It’s a great day to go skating. Except, you’re stuck in a prison where you’re told how to think and act for eight hours a day. You wouldn’t say you hate school exactly. But if you had to choose between school and never skating again, you’d most likely choose the latter. 

Just as you’re about to zone out, you see an unfamiliar car pull up into one of the parking spots in the front of the campus. Squinting slightly, you see two men emerge from said car. 

The driver is tall and slim with long, bright red hair and yellow tinted sunglasses. He has on a very loud shirt, that looks to be silk, paired with distressed light blue skinny jeans and some off-white converse. 

The other guy is much taller than his friend but shares the same slim stature. His hair is a somewhat short and colored a light pink. He wears a tie-dye Bob Marley shirt under a Hawaiian styled button down, paired with dark blue skinny jeans and black combat boots. 

You watch as they make their way to the office and then disappear out of sight as they walk into the building. Sighing, you turn your head back to the front of the room, somewhat listening to the boring lecture from your English teacher. 

An hour goes by sluggishly and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the bell for free period rings and you silently start thanking all the deities for ending your suffering. Gathering your things from the floor, you slip your book bag over both shoulders and take your board into your hand, walking out of the room and leaning against the lockers outside the classroom, waiting for Asia to also walk out. 

“You just had to have that damn skateboard,” she huffs, starting down the hallway full of other teenagers. 

“Hey, lay off. It’s probably the nicest thing I’ve ever owned,” you say in defense, walking a little ahead of her, turning around and starting to walk backwards so you can talk to her face-to-face. 

“Well, thanks to your new prized possession, we have detention,” she scolds, holding up the bright pink slip of paper. 

“Then let’s ditch,” you deadpan, watching as her face contorts into the face you know all too well. 

Her ‘I can’t believe you just said what you said and we’re probably gonna end up doing it anyway’ face. 

“We’re gonna get in even more trouble!” she shouts, throwing her hands into the air for probably the seventh time this morning.

“We’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?” you ask, shooting her your best puppy dog eyes. 

“No, not at all,” she says, making you laugh loudly.

Turning back around, you’re met with the hard chest of a stranger. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you apologize, looking down and then back up to the stranger. 

Your eyes widen at who it is. The man and his friend that you saw this morning walking into the office. He shoots you a blinding white smile, and lets a chuckle erupt from his throat. 

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it,” he says in the most gorgeous voice you’ve ever had the pleasure of being graced with. 

Shaking your head slightly, you snap out of whatever trance you found yourself slipping into. You hear footsteps behind you and suddenly a low voice speaks.

“Oh, cool, you met Y/N,” Kyungsoo says as the rest of the boys are following closely behind him. 

“Oh! So you’re the Y/N everyone has been talking about!” the pink headed man speaks up, sounding somewhat surprised.

“Guilty as charged,” you nod, taking a step back and standing beside Asia. 

“Y/N, Asia, this is Chanyeol and Baekhyun,” Jongin introduces with a slight snicker which is suddenly hushed as Sehun lightly elbows him in the gut. 

“That’s all well and cool, but Y/N and I have to go,” Asia says, taking you by the arm and dragging you with her.

“What did she do this time?” Jongin asks, receiving a glare from you and another gut hit, this time from Kyungsoo. 

“She got us detention because she just had to have a new skateboard,” she snaps.

You roll your eyes and retort, “longboard, thank you.”  

She grimaces and you can’t help but giggle. 

“Come on! I told you, we can just ditch. It’s easy, plus Coach Anderson doesn’t even take roll anymore. It’s foolproof,” you explain as her pace slows once reaching the courtyard. 

She loosens her grip on your arm, allowing you to slide out of her hand. Taking your other hand, you rub softly on the spot which was attacked. 

“Come on, let’s just go get some lunch and hang out. We don’t have to be back until two,” you offer. 

At the mention of food, everyones eyes light up in happiness. 

“Yeah! Let’s go, I’m starving,” Jongin whines.

“Didn’t you just eat last period?” Jongdae questions, watching as Jongin turns to him and retorts, “that was just a snack!”

Laughing at the interaction, you start walking towards the front parking lot, hearing footsteps behind you and listening to Asia talk about some stupid English project you couldn’t be bothered to listen about in class. 

Funnily enough, you all got incredibly lucky your senior year of high school, as all of you are parked next to each other. 

You and Asia hop into your yellow 1970 Pontiac GTO Judge, as Kyungsoo and Junmyeon get into Kyungsoo’s black 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS 454. Minseok and Jongdae duck into Minseok’s Grey 1973 Plymouth Duster while Jongin and Sehun sit inside Jongin’s red 1970 Chevy Camaro.

Looking down a few cars, you see Chanyeol and Baekhyun climb into, what you assume is Baekhyuns, orange 1970 Ford Mustang Convertible. 

Turning the key of your car, the engine roars to life and you slip on a pair of your favorite ray-ban sunglasses before turning to Kyungsoo and yelling out the window, “Meet at The Depot!” 

With a nod, he turns to tell the others, but you’re already peeling out of the parking lot onto the main road, headed for the best diner in town.

© Kpoptrassshhh, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[oneworld-libra]

Writing Prompt: “You’d had your head down at a library all day until you suddenly felt a big gust of wind blow past you. You looked up, but no one else seemed to have noticed and you couldn’t spot any open windows. Another gust blew by you, but the only thing that moved were your papers.” ———————————————————————

It was a cold autumn’s night. The temperature had just reached a little bit above freezing as the moon settled itself into its highest position. The soft hoot from a barn owl echoed in the air. Everything was silent as it should be. Mother Earth was retiring for the day as Nyx shrouded her in a blanket of onyx-speckled silk.

The time was nearing two-thirty when little Adrian Manier was awakened with a stir. He sat up, wide-eyed, in his bed, looking around his room at the dimly lit colored pictures danced on the walls from his revolving nightlight. A groggy smile crept upon his tender face. He climbed out of his metal-framed bed; the weather-beaten floorboards creaking underneath him from the slight pressure of his tiny feet. A yawn escaped from his throat; a little louder than he had expected. He quickly covered his mouth, but it was too late.

“Adrian?” called out a frail voice.

“Y—yes?” Adrian whispered back, hoping that he wouldn’t get a reply back.

“Are you awake at this hour?” the voice responded.

There was a brief silence, followed by the same cracking sound from the floorboards. The noise grew louder as it reached Adrian’s door before ceasing. Adrian stifled a gasp underneath his breath as he watched the knob begin to jiggle and turn, slowly becoming ajar.

“There you are.” said an elderly man with his head poked through the crack. “Is there a reason for why you are out of bed, little one?” His voice was sympathetic.

“I couldn’t sleep, Grandad.” Little Adrian wiped at his eyes.

Eighty-two-year-old Ander Thomasson quietly pushed open the door and made his way into his grandson’s bedroom. He carefully reached his arms around Adrian and picked him up, placing him back on the bed. “Now, it is time to sleep.” Ander said in a semi-stern tone.

“But I’m thirsty!”

Ander could hear a slight whimper in Adrian’s voice as he raised a skeptical eyebrow to him. “Another glass of water would only serve a hand in helping you to soil the sheets.” He saw a look of confusion come across Adrian, and he sighed. “I’m sorry, son, but not tonight.”

“Oh, but please—”

Ander raised up a feeble hand to silence Adrian’s begging.

Adrian pouted—as any young one would when being told no for the umpteenth time—and threw himself backwards onto the bed. His demeanor suddenly changed; his expression lighting up with a brilliant idea. “Can you tell me the story again about how you were able to cheat fate in your younger days?” His smile was as cunning as it was convincing. He knew what he was doing, and he hoped that Ander would take the bait.

A hint of perplexity rooted itself on Ander’s face. However did Adrian remember a story like that was beyond him. He thought about how amazing the retention powers of a small child were. “Alright, fine.” Ander let out a sigh and made himself comfortable on the bed beside Adrian. “Just this once.” He saw a smirk of triumph quickly sneak upon Adrian’s face before fading away even faster as not to be noticed. “Here it goes,” Ander cleared his throat and casted his gaze upwards, recalling from his memory, “Once upon a time—”

“No, Grandad!” Adrian shot up.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“That’s not how you start off a story!” he sulked.

“But that’s how I always told the story—”

“Right!” said Adrian. “I want it told in a different way.”

Ander was a little taken aback by his grandson’s blunt comment. “Well then,” he said, “how would like for the beginning to be introduced?”

Andrian laid back down and placed his hand under his chin. “Hm,” he thought to himself, “I got it!” He grabbed Ander by the hand and guided him backwards onto an empty pillow. He placed his head onto Ander’s shoulder and began to whisper. “When you were my age …” His prepubescent voice began to fade away as he closed his eyes and waited for Ander to continue the story.

Ander smiled, humoring his grandson. “When I was your age,” he started …

***

48 Years Ago …

“Hey, Ander!” shouted sixteen-year-old Paisley Martin from across the hall. “You coming with me and Marcus down to the arcade with after final period?”

“Can't!” Seventeen-year-old Ander Thomasson cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back. “I have to hit the library for a project that’s due tomorrow for Mr. Barns’s class!”

“Suit yourself!” Paisley shrugged and headed off down the hallways towards his final class. The final bell rang in the distance.

“Catch you later, man!” Marcus said following behind Paisley.

Ander waved and watched as his friends faded into their different classrooms. He made his way over towards his locker, grabbed his books, and casually strolled down the hallway towards his final class. He was already aware of his tardiness that it felt pointless for him to rush, knowing that the teacher was going to scold him anyways. He opened the door and paused slightly in the doorway, making quick eye contact with Mr. Barns before sighing and turning away.

“Ah-hem.” Mr. Barns cleared his throat in attempts to get Ander’s attention. It was a failed attempt which frustrated him to the point of forgetting about it and carrying on with the lecture. Time painstakingly ticked away while Ander propped himself up with his arm and stared out of the window. Before he realized it, he was awakened by the sharpness of the release bell. “Remember,” said Mr. Barns, “your essay is due tomorrow, so I would take full advantage of the library before all the resources are used.” Ander yawned and stared down at his phone that was hidden in his lap underneath the desk. The deep snap of the heavy textbook filled the air as Mr. Barns announced, “class dismissed.”

Finally. Ander grabbed his things and headed straight for the door, completely ignoring Mr. Barns’s attempt again to gain his attention—this time was unintentional. Down the hallway, he scratched the back of his head, yawned again, and readjusted his backpack on his shoulder. He couldn’t think of why he was so tired, but he needed to wake up fast. Ander turned the corner that led towards the cafeteria and stopped in front of the vending machine. Bingo! A grin came upon his face as he stared at the lit-up rows of energized beverages. He fumbled in his pockets for some loose change and punched away at the numbers, pleasurably watching the machine arm rise and grab his desired drink. The first sip was the kicker. He threw his head back in enjoyment from the refreshing taste. Ander capped it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket before finding his way towards the main entrance.

The public library was only a few blocks away within walking distance. Ander prepared himself for the walk, taking another sip of his drink and wiping his forehead of the sweat forming on his brow from the beating sun. He felt the subtle buzzing of his cellphone in his pocket but chose to ignore it. It was probably Marcus or Paisley wondering if he were really at the library or not. Trudging up the stone stairs to the doors, Ander hesitated to reach out for the handle. He read the posted sign for ‘No Outside Food/Drinks Allowed’ and immediately his mind went to his drink that was noticeably hanging out of his pocket. He thought quick and shoved it into his backpack, hoping that no one was around to see him.

There was an eerie silence inside. Libraries had always made Ander feel uncomfortable. He stayed to himself and found a vacant computer table. He settled down and took out his books, being cautious as to not to let his drink show. It took a moment for him to find the information that he was looking for and he signaled for the Librarian that he wanted to print. The Librarian came back with his papers and Ander graciously took them, giving her a slight head nod of thanks. He took his belongings and relocated to a nearby table. He didn’t want to be here and the dull atmosphere around him brought back his drowsiness in full force. Ander's eyes grew heavy as he desperately tried to focus them and keep reading; his hand shaking off course with each dozing spell that caused the highlighter to color every other intended word. He slammed it down in frustration and violently rubbed his eyes. I just need a minute. Ander folded his arms and laid his head down, unphased by the others surrounding him. It was quiet … it was peaceful … it was—woah! Ander popped up and looked around him with a puzzled look on his face. What was that? A big gust of wind blew past him, but he couldn't figure out from where? He stared at the far window with its blinds drawn shut then casted his gaze over at the closed door. All around him, the rest of the people carried on as if nothing happened which confused him. It felt so real, and Ander felt an odd feeling forming in his chest but shrugged it off as just a random occurrence and drifted back off. The comfort of sleep settled within Ander as he was disturbed once again by the same gust of wind as before. There was no question about it this time. He knew it was real! “Hey!” Ander stood up and shouted, but nothing happened. It was as if time had frozen except him. Something had caught his attention as he looked down at his papers which were moving on their own. A nervous chuckle escaped his throat as he began to question his own sanity, watching them blow over in an invisible wind. “This is insane!” Ander took a step back to regather himself.

“Ander …”

“Who’s there?” Ander called out.

“Ander …” whispered the mysterious voice again. It was soft and feminine, a woman no doubt.

Ander watched as the gust of wind took on a smoky form and rose high like a column up to the ceiling from the pile of papers. His heart pounded against his ribcage. He didn’t know what to expect, but even more, he wondered why nobody else was seeing this, too! A dark silhouette outlined itself in the dense cloud before splitting into three separate figures. Ander tumbled backwards, yet not breaking eye contact with the shadowy beings.

“Wh—who … Wh—what?” he stumbled over his words.

“Be not afraid of me,” spoke a different voice, “for us seek not to hurt thee.”

“Huh?” Ander tried to calm down. What is she talking about? The smoke faded away and revealed three women standing perfectly poised before him on top of the table. They were each dressed so peculiarly, hinting that they were clearly from a different era. Ander tried to reach for his cellphone and take a picture, but he found himself paralyzed with fear and curiosity. “Who are you?” He finally found his voice.

“You who does not know …” spoke the woman who was standing in front. She was very young-looking, tall and slender with white soulless eyes that were like two open doors into the void. Her tanned skin glowed against her bright silver hair. She was dressed in a dark flowing robe that resembled a traditional Grecian style with a flowing, star-speckled train that was attached to decorative golden rings worn on her arms. A delicate garnish sat atop her head. She carried herself with a regal grace, yet her words sounded harsh. She was as undeniably gorgeous as she was terrifying.

“… feels threatened without trust …” chimed in the woman on the left. She was a bit timid in nature and much shorter than the middle woman. She was dressed in an all-white linen cloth that was draped over her from head to toe. She didn’t have much of a presence standing there hunched over and cradling an oversized spool, but she was very hard to miss. She wore a faded laurel around her head; the flowers lingering on a string halfway between life and death. She had a sense of innocence about her. Her voice was low and had a tinge of sing-song allure to it. Each one of them spoke in rhymes that completed the other’s sentence.

“… yet we appear here because you had summoned us.” finished the last girl off to the right. Her voice had a sense of uneasiness to it that sent a cold chill down Ander’s spine. She was clothed in a faded black robe with gold decorations that outlined her collarbone and waistline. She wore these long hideous gloves that was made of the same faded material that stretched up towards her elbow. At each end were a singular gold band. Her hands were sharp like eagle talons that were also painted black. Everything about her was black and ominous. Atop her head was a simple headdress made of faded onyx and emerald that were cracked and unkept in certain places. She resembled a black widow spider. The woman was far from ugly, but she wasn’t nearly as majestic as the other two beside her. She had an ungodly aura about her that oozed immorality and decay. She embodied the spirit of Death Himself. This woman carried herself with such an ill-fated spirit that it made Ander begin to feel sick in her presence. He held his breath for as long as could to not breathe her in and be made to feel worse. She held in her right hand a small harvester’s sickle that was rusted and partially dull from what Ander had assumed to be consistent use. He sure didn’t want to know who or what was on the receiving end of that blade.

“I—I summoned,” Ander swallowed hard and kept a close eye on the woman’s hand gripped tightly around that awful weapon, “y—you?” He tried to blink himself back into reality. “But how?”

“Yes, you did …” reassured the middle woman in an almost soothing tone.

“… now tell us what doth thee bid?” finished the frail-looking woman on the left. She was very timid when she spoke.

“Your blood is rare,” blurted out the woman clothed in black, “tis’ be your only fare.” She was the only one who spoke and finished her own sentence.

“Who are you?”

The middle woman stepped forward—no, floated! “Lachesis the Allotter is who I be …”

“… and Clotho the Spinner that is me.” she timidly spoke.

Ander fixed his stare at the third woman. “This be Atropos the Unturning with her famous jagged shears …”

“… one snip of my strand so quick that will expose all your fears.” said Clotho, extending her arms out wide and showing off a silky thread of fine yarn. “I make the threads of life which you so hopelessly cling …”

“… and I figure out the length of time that it will bring.” said Lachesis with a sinister, yet alluring, smile. “Together, the Moirai, are we …”

“Why are you here?” curiously asked Ander. “What do you want from me?”

“… summoned here by thee.” said Clotho.

“The Moirai,” repeated Ander, pulling himself to his feet, “as in the Fates from Greek Mythology?” It all made sense to him now as he stared at them in horror and pointed, starting from the left, then center, and finally the right. “Past … Present … Future.”

The three women nodded in agreement when he had gotten it right. “From you, we want nothing more,” said Atropos in a lackluster, yet somehow, still mysterious tone, “but to stave Thee off from your door.” she spoke with a sinister smirk and flashed the tip of her sickle at Ander, indirectly hinting that he could possibly be next.

“A way out is proper …” said Clotho as she unwounded some more of her thread.

“… so long as you accept our offer.” finished Lachesis.

“What offer?” questioned Ander.

Clotho stopped unwinding and held up a frail finger at Ander. “You must first reach Hades’s floor, there you will seek out Hecate-of-Three, from her will she provide the door …”

It almost sounded as if Clotho had finished her sentence by herself when Lachesis chimed in. “… The Hecate-of-Three you need is the one who holds the key …” Lachesis flashed a smile at Ander, making him turn away in embarrassment. She lightly giggled, “… but seeking her won't be an easy feat, lest thee guess wrong, she must eat.”

Ander's heart sank to the bottom of her feet when he heard Lachesis’s words. He didn’t know much about world mythology, let alone, a specific period in history. But there was one thing that he was sure about … and that was the simple fact of not wanting to stick around long enough for Hecate to debate on sparing his life or not.

“Alright,” Ander said with false confidence, “but what’s in it for me?” Ander knew better than to make a deal with the devil, but what other choice did he have? His curiosity had already won, and now Ander was going to collect on his winnings by travelling to the Underworld and finding Hecate.

“Anything that your heart desires …” said Clotho.

“… so long it be within the length of life …” spoke up Clotho, tapping the side of her spool three times over and over in a rhythmic pattern. She began to chant something in Ancient Greek.

“… before it expires.” Atropos finished.

Ander thought long as hard before reluctantly giving them his answer. He extended his hand towards Lachesis in hopes that she at least knew how to do a handshake. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The three women smiled as the came close together again on top of the table, standing back-to-back until the three of them merged into one huge being with three heads. Ander watched as another pillar of smoke and brimstone rose from the ground beneath their feet, swallowing them in a vortex of flame. Their once beautiful skin and feminine featured melted away before Ander’s, revealing three ghastly skeletons with eyes set ablaze with blue embers. They were dressed in a singular black robe with three hoods. Their individual hair colors all faded to a monotone gray. They held a pair of giant brass scissors in front of them; its blades planted firmly on the table. Behind them hovered a huge sewing wheel. A huge golden spool dangled from their necks like a priceless pendant. It was no more singular rhyming from three different personalities. Now, when they talked, they spoke as one voice in three tongues. Ander’s jaw dropped as he stared. He couldn’t pull himself away from the unnatural sight of this monster before him. He felt his legs becoming weak as he dropped to one knee, bracing himself up with his fists. He panted and tried to slow down his heart race to a healthy pace. His eyes were wide, and his mind was blank. Ander just couldn’t process all that was occurring right now. He glanced up again and to his dread, this was not a dream. There they were. Not as three women anymore, but as one unholy being. This was them. This was their true form … this was the Moirai, the Fates of Mankind.

[mss4msu]

Call Me Doctor. Chapter 18

Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.

Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader 

Words: 1916

Warnings: Language, sexual content kind off, slight 4th wall breaking

A/N: I’ve taken forever to write this chapter because I tried to do smut but I’m pretty sure I’m shit at writing smut, and have written and deleted this so many times. So instead of actual dirty smut, this is some gentle romancing. Please be as gentle with me as Steve is about to be with (Y/N) about it. 

Catch Up on the Story Here

You spent your Saturday catching up on all of the adult responsibilities you had neglected by staying late at work all week. While you would rather have spent your Saturday cozied up to Steve somewhere, you knew you had to get your personal tasks done or you would struggle all week trying to catch up. Plus, Steve spent the day texting almost non-stop with you, so it was almost like you were actually together. 

You woke up early Sunday and got to campus an hour before your meeting with X-Con, wanting to have time to go through the space one last time yourself before they arrived. When you got to your office, you were shocked to find the light on and the door already unlocked. You pushed the door open to find Steve sitting behind his desk. 

“You’re here early,” you said as you walked to your desk, sat down, and pulled out your computer. 

“Putting the finishing touches on some of this text so I can send it off to the printers tonight,” he replied, “I still feel bad that I didn’t do anything helpful for this project before this week.”

“Steve, stop, let’s just let by-gones be by-gones.” 

“I just want to reiterate that I’m very sorry for my attitude and lack of work ethic and promise you that it won’t happen again.” 

“Steve, if we ever have to plan another museum exhibit like this, I’ll quit, so I can also promise that it won’t happen again,” you laughed. 

Steve let out an anxious chuckle, “Alright.” 

“I’m going to go down and do a walk-through to orient myself before the security team gets here. Care to join?”

“Sure, give me one second,” he quickly typed out what sounded like a few sentences, “Ok, ready,” he said standing up.  

You grabbed a measuring tape, your notebook and a pen and led the way downstairs. You keyed into the space, flicking on the lights next to the doorway. 

“We need to make sure they get these lights adjusted so that they can be dimmed down by all of the exhibits. It’s a bit bright right now and that will compromise the artifacts we put on display.” 

You worked your way through the room with Steve trailing behind you. In front of each case, you had him walk close to an exhibit so you could measure out how far from the cases you needed alarm sensors that could warn people if they were too close to an object. 

“Is this too close?” Steve asked as he stood next to where the last artifact, a large, limestone sarcophagus, would be going in the middle of the room.

“I think you can get a little bit closer,” you replied, squatting on the floor to see the best angle and tapping your pen against your thigh. 

With a mischievous grin, Steve took a few steps towards you, “Can I get closer than this?”

You scrunched your nose, trying to keep from smiling, “Hm, I think you could stand to move in more.”

“How about this?” he asked, coming within arms length of you. 

“Closer still,” you giggled. 

“Is this too close?” he asked, offering his hand out to you.

“Not close enough,” you breathlessly replied, taking his hand and standing up. 

He took the notebook from your hand and dropped it on the floor, the loud noise causing you to start. Steve put his arm behind your back and pulled you towards him, closing the gap between you and kissing you.

You stood there together, lips locked and arms intertwining. You both jumped when you heard a cough from behind you. 

“Hey, um, sorry to interrupt,” Scott Lang said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “We were in the area early and thought we would come by and see if you were here...and you are.” 

“Damn, homies, this is, like, super awkward for all of us now,” Luis said, peering over Scott’s shoulder. 

“Yikes,” you muttered under your breath, “Sorry about that. Let’s get started and try to forget about what you just saw.” 

You gathered your discarded notebook from the ground and flipped it to the right page, your face on fire with embarrassment. Steve slunk to the corner of the room, out of the way. 

You, Steve, and the X-Con team spent three hours to get through all of the necessary changes that needed to be made to the space. After finally agreeing to all of the equipment to be installed, which had involved Steve almost blowing up at Luis for his continued recommendation of laser beams across the floor when the room got locked at night, you and Steve left Scott and his team to begin the security and electronic installations. 

“Want to get lunch?” Steve asked as you walked back to your office.

“I’d love to. That took far longer than anticipated.” 

“It would’ve been a lot shorter had someone not continued asking for floor laser beams.”

“I mean, they would be cool,” you winked at Steve as you got to your office.

Steve unlocked the door and gestured for you to enter first, “We should probably order in. I still have a bit of formatting to do on the text panels.” 

“Can I see what you’ve done already?”

“Of course,” Steve led the way to his desk, motioning for you to take the chair as he reached over you to open the right documents. 

As you breathed in nervously, you were overtaken with Steve’s aroma; he still had that same comforting smell of coffee and books you remembered from that first close interaction with him at your housewarming party months ago.

“Here’s the main text block,” he said, snapping you out of your reminiscing. 

“Oh, this looks really good!” 

“Don’t act so surprised,” he said rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, um, I don’t know,” you looked up at him, but got lost in his eyes. 

Rather than reply with words, Steve used his mouth to kiss you instead. He spun the desk chair around so you were facing him and kissed you with such passion that the chair rolled back, slamming into the desk. 

“Steve, we shouldn’t do this here,” you paused him, catching your breath, “I’m tired of getting walked in on.” 

“Then let’s make sure no one can walk in,” he replied with a mischievous grin. 

Steve strode to the door and clicked the lock into place. Your heart began to race as he came back towards you. He offered his hand for the second time that day to help you up. As soon as you were standing he put his arm behind your back and pulled you towards him. As the intensity of your kisses increased, you found yourselves moving backwards until your back was up against one of the bookshelves. 

“Ouch!” you yelped out in pain as a particularly rough kiss from Steve caused your back to dig into a book. 

Steve immediately pulled away and looked at you in concern. 

You backed away from the bookshelf to see which book’s spine had attacked your spine, “There is no reason for an,” you squinted at the book, “English to Icelandic to German dictionary to be that painful,” you said, rubbing your back. 

“It’s pretty painful to read through, so it’s fitting that it’s just as painful to be slammed into,” Steve laughed. 

“Who said anything about slamming?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, “Um..well...no one…but...well, I kinda thought….maybe, since it’s been awhile now….we were going to….if you want to….”

“Steve, remember that time you were super rude and said that I must be eloquent since I can give lectures? I need you to spit out whatever you’re trying to get at.” 

“I just thought that, maybe we could...fuck, I don’t know how to say this without it coming off wrong....”

“You probably could’ve just stopped at, ‘maybe we could fuck,’” you smirked at him. 

“But I don’t want it to just be a fuck,” Steve’s face began to turn red, “I know making love sounds so cheesy...but…”

“But?”

“But that feels like the only way to describe how special I feel like our connection is.”

“Damn, Steven, I never figured you for such a sap,” you giggled. 

“This is why I didn’t want to say anything,” Steve avoided looking you in the eyes and his face was almost completely red now. 

“No, it’s cute!” you tried to reassure him. 

“Yeah?” he asked, hazarding a look at you.

“Yeah,” you reached up and gave him a kiss, then took his hand and pulled him to the table in the middle of the room. 

You pushed the files cluttering the table to the floor and used a chair to boost yourself up. You grabbed Steve by the belt loops and pulled him towards you. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, your fingers fumbling with anticipation. When you got the last button off, he slipped the shirt off and then reached up and pulled off his undershirt with one hand. After he was finished, you raised your arms for him to pull off your dress, which he did with ease. You were grateful you had actually worn a cute bra. Wanting to feel Steve against you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in before kissing him more intensely. Steve gently pushed your shoulders down and you scooted yourself to the middle of the table, loosening your legs around Steve so he could climb up to join you. 

Steve began to gently grind on you, causing you to let out a small moan. He smiled before kissing you again, putting one hand under your head and using the other to keep his balance. You continued in this position for a few minutes before you decided to begin unbuckling Steve’s belt. You struggled slightly with the button of his jeans, as you didn’t want to stop kissing him, but you also wanted his pants removed. Steve briefly stopped his hip actions to assist you in getting his pants off.

“Damn,” you muttered, eyeing up his bulge, which was straining to escape from his briefs. 

“Yeah, doll?”

“Doll? I know you study the 1930s, but are you actually from them?” you giggled.

“Maybe….and even though you study mummies, I’ll let you call me daddy,” he winked.

Your jaw dropped open, “Oh my god, Steve,” you laughed, “Please let the record state that I am not going to do that.”

“You got it, doll,” he drew out the last word and winked, raising you up to kiss him before gently lowering you back down to the table.

With just his briefs on his lower half, Steve continued to grind on you. You couldn’t hold back the moans as he pressed himself against you, knowing just a few bits of cloth separated your latter halves. You stopped running your fingers through Steve’s hair long enough to begin wiggling out of your leggings. 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Steve asked.

“Dr. Rogers, I think we’ve played out this slow burn long enough. I’m sure I want to do this.” 

“(Y/N), what did I say about calling me doctor?” Steve asked. 

You let out a laugh; the next sounds to come out of either of your mouths were moans of pleasure as you and Steve Rogers passionately made love on the table of your shared office. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Call Me Doctor. Tag List:

@ashislost @wantingtobekorra @zlixlle @crazy--me @grey-raven @queenkitten95 @chook007 @tequila1984 @yallneedtrek @ssweet-empowerment @guera31 @justmesadgirl @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @rainbowkisses31 @writing-for-a-chance @sp2900 @notkikibear @itzmegaaaaaaan @partiallyinthecloset @moonstruckhargrove  @straybattie @angryteapot @fandom-addict-aesthetics @hazellnut94​ @abschaffer2 @hadesgirl1015 @vikki-rogue @biskwitmamaw @justkending @marvelous-capsicle @uhh-katie-griffiths @evanstush

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tag List:

@patzammit @xjaneeeen

Permanent Tag List:

@sophiealiice @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thisismysecrethappyplace @ailynalonso15 @221bshrlocked @hazellnut94 @libbymouse @nerdypinupcrystal @hufflepuffchloe @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @dibsonamericasass @kind-sober-fullydressed @kakakatey

[incorrect-strq-quotes]

Rosebird Week 2019

Day 7: Pregnancy/Kids

@rose-bird-week Day 7 is a Beacon Teacher AU and more proof that Raven is Soft™️ for Summer and their bbys. Don’t tell their students though.

—

The student body at Beacon Academy was the most diverse collection of individuals in all of Remnant. Being that it was located in between the other three kingdoms, this wasn’t exactly surprising. The students who trained there came from all walks of life, all forms of thought, all styles of combat. For all their differences though, everything that set them apart, every single one of them could at least agree on two things:

One, Professor Branwen was a badass. She never smiled, never went easy on anyone, but every single team who went with her on a mission came back with stories that bordered on laughably unbelievable. Nobody ever failed her class, because they were too scared about what she’d do if they did.

Two, Professor Rose was the kindest person in the world. She wore a smile on her face every day, and always made time to help any student that asked for it. Even if their problem had nothing to do with her class. The fact that she was eight months pregnant at the moment only added to the motherly vibe she carried everywhere she went.

It was entirely understandable then, with all their differences, that each new batch of first year students would start out deeply confused any time they would see the two instructors together. It would quickly become the topic of between-class conversations. Whispered debates at lunch. Late night theories and gossip.

The older students weren’t any help. They had to figure out the puzzle on their own, so why should the new kids get any clues? So there were rumors, and stories, and gossip. Observant eyes taking in everything they saw and whispering it to their friends when they thought everyone else was out of earshot.

Because Professor Branwen barking at students in the hallways wasn’t all that unusual. Professor Branwen barking at students for bumping into Professor Rose however was different enough to raise questions.

And Professor Rose leaving Professor Branwen’s classroom in the morning with a smile and a “I’ll see you at lunch” wouldn’t have been extremely odd, if it wasn't for Professor Branwen’s returning smile and her almost soft reply “sure” that seemed a little bit too out of character.

The upperclassmen were entertained by how the first years always seemed to glazed over the obvious.

“Maybe Rose is trying to teach her to be nicer to us,” a hushed voice said in the back of Professor Branwen’s lecture hall one day. Their words were followed by laughter. “Wouldn’t that be a sight. A Branwen, being nice.”

Any response was drowned out by Professor Branwen herself entering the room. The door slammed shut behind her, and conversation in the classroom abruptly ceased. “If your homework isn’t passed to the front row by the time I get to my desk, you’re all getting F’s.”

The sound of shuffling papers filled the air as everyone quickly passed their essays to the person in front of them. They knew the drill. Everyone’s essays were already out and ready, if only because they were all worried that their instructor would actually go through with her threat.

Raven of course wouldn’t do that, but her students didn’t need to know.

“Open your books to the next chapter,” she instructed, not telling them which chapter that was. If they had been paying attention in class last week, they would know. “Lance, start reading.”

Fumbling and page flipping came from the second to last row as Raven collected the stack of essays from the student who sat closest to her desk. She set the stack down and dropped her bag in her chair before turning to glare at the student she had called on.

“Uh- Ursai are large, bear-like creatures of Grimm…”

Lance trailed off as snickers echoed around the room. “Dude she’s going to murder you,” someone whispered just loud enough for Raven to hear.

“Ash,” Raven called in a saccharine voice. “Thank you for volunteering to help your teammate out.” She turned around to the chalk board and wrote the word “Geist” in large letters before turning around to face the class again. “Please open your book to the correct chapter and start reading.”

Ash, who apparently was already on the right page, cleared his throat. “Geists are creatures of Grimm that resemble ghosts and are capable of "possessing" inanimate objects.”

“Right,” Raven interrupted, gaze traveling around the room. “With that in mind, why are Geists so dangerous?”

A hand shot up, the student it belonged to speaking before she could even be called on. “Because you’re not just fighting the Grimm, professor. You’re also fighting whatever inanimate object its occupying.”

Raven gave her a nod. “Correct, and-”

“That doesn’t sound very scary,” interrupted a bored drawl from the other side of the room.

Raven didn’t even have to look to know who it was. She simply grabbed a book off her desk, turned, and threw it in one motion.

“Hey!” The student ducked out of the way and leapt to her feet. “What the fuck was that for?!”

Raven fixed her with a cold glare. “Why’d you duck?”

The girl sputtered. “Because that would have hurt!”

Raven laughed humorlessly. “It’s an inanimate object, Jett. I thought you weren’t scared of them?” She picked up another book and threw it.

Jett narrowly avoided that one. “Stop it!”

“Is that what you’re going to tell a Geist?” Raven demanded. “Imagine hundreds of books, pulled together by nothing but a crushing blackness with the sole purpose of destroying everyone you love. And you won’t be able to help them, because you have no clue how to fight it, because you were too busy mouthing off in my class.” Raven turned to the rest of her students, letting her voice fall from angry to hard. “This isn’t a game anymore, guys. You aren’t still in combat school. Your training wheels are off and the wooden swords have been put away. If-”

“Raven.”

Her words instantly died on her lips. Raven turned to see Summer standing in the doorway, arms crossed over top her swollen belly, an unusually stern expression on her face. Next to her stood Yang, tear stains and a pout maring the four year old’s face. “What happened?” Raven asked without any of the previous bite in her words, ignoring the whispers that picked up behind her.

Summer looked down at Yang. “Tell Momma why your teacher had to call me today.”

Yang bunched up the hem of her shirt in tight fists, refusing to look at Raven. “I hit a boy,” she mumbled, a fresh tear rolling down her face.

Raven looked at Summer, whose stare turned pleading. The bags under her eyes spoke of exhaustion, and Raven knew that she didn’t sleep well last night. She walked over to them and crouched down in front of Yang. “You know you’re not supposed to hit people, Yang,” she started sternly.

“But Mercury said I was lying!” Yang argued, defensive. She was finally looking at her, small fists balled away from her shirt now.

Raven kept her voice firm, but gentle. “Hey. We’re not here to fight you, Firecracker. But I’m going to need you to take a deep breath and try that again.”

Yang’s face was still scrunched in anger, but she scrubbed at her face and took a deep breath. “He said I was lying,” she mumbled. “He said no one can have two moms.”

Frown on her face, Raven reached forward and wiped the tears off of Yang’s cheek with a thumb. “Were you lying?”

Yang shook her head vigorously. “No!”

“Then what that little punk Mercury thinks doesn’t matter,” Raven told her, failing to hide a smirk as Summer huffed in amusement. Yang smiled a little bit too. “We’ve talked about this before,” Raven continued. “What could you have done instead of hitting him?”

Yang looked down at her shoes as she thought about it. “...practice my numbers,” she eventually answered.

“Can you promise me you’ll do that next time you want to hit someone?” Raven gently poked Yang in the belly, drawing the little girl’s gaze back up to her and the instigative smile she couldn’t take off her face. “Practice your numbers as loud as you can, right in their face.”

Yang matched her smile again. “Yeah!”

Raven stood up to see Summer shaking her head in exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?” Summer asked.

Raven flashed her a smirk. “I can think of a few things.”

Summer’s smile turned soft, shining through the exhaustion that smothered everything else. “Do you mind if Yang stays with you for the afternoon?”

Raven’s face clouded with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“I need to take a nap,” Summer told her quietly, “I’ve already asked your brother to cover the rest of my classes for the day.”

“Do you want me to-”

Summer cut her off with a gentle hand on her arm. “No, I’m just tired Rae. I promise. Besides,” she added with an apologetic look over Raven’s shoulder, “ your class looks pretty eager to learn, and I’ve taken up enough of their time.”

Raven turned around to look at her students, her prepared glare falling on suspiciously downturned gazes.

“Be nice,” Summer chided. She leaned up to place a kiss on Raven’s cheek, which immediately drew back her attention. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Raven said as Summer opened the door and left. Raven looked down at Yang, who was staring up at her. “You can sit at my desk if you promise to be good.”

Yang nodded her head. “ I promise, Momma.”

Raven walked over to her desk and moved her bag to the floor so her daughter could climb up onto the chair. “Your coloring book is in one of the drawers. Momma needs you to be on your best behavior to show all the big kids how to be quiet and listen, okay?”

Yang giggled, grinning up at Raven. “Okay!”

Raven straightened up and returned her attention to her students, who were all blinking owlishly back at her. “Any more questions, Jett?” she asked in a polite tone that didn’t actually leave any room for questions at all.

“No, Professor,” Jett replied, already back in her chair.

Apparently for others, her tone was too subtle. “Are you and Professor Rose, like, married?” asked one of the guys sitting in the far back row.

Raven crossed her arms and glared at him.

“They’re my mommies!” piped up Yang from behind her.

Raven turned to look at her daughter, glare morphing into a pointed stare. For her part, Yang already had her hands over her mouth. She made a motion like she was locking her mouth and throwing the key away -a smartass move she picked up from Summer.

Raven turned back to the class. “If anybody else opens their mouth to say anything that doesn't have to do with Geists, I’m going to let Yang take your next quiz and give you whatever grade she gets.”

All eyes were on the textbooks in front of them, mouths silent.

“Good. Lance, hopefully you’re on the right chapter this time. Can you read the next paragraph?”

[mminhos]

𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝙱𝚘𝚢 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙳𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝙲.𝟸 | 𝙷𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚗

⇨ genre : badboy!au, childhood friends to lovers, college au

⇨ warnings : language

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

12:13pm

College wasn’t as bad as everyone had made it out to be before you. Sure, there was a hell of a lot of work to do, but you had that in high school, so what difference did a bit more make?

What they didn’t tell you though, was how much more boring these lectures were.

You sat there, tapping your pencil onto the table as you sighed, looking up to the ceiling and somehow hoping the time would pass just a bit quicker.

“Ah, what a pleasure it is for you to finally join us.. hwang hyunjin”

The boy walked in, a lazy smirk spreading across his face. The smell of cologne and perfume mixed flooded your nose as he walked past, slumping down into his seat and cocking his head to the side. Leaning back in your chair, you turned your attention to the boy who hadn’t been in school for the past four days.

Taking in his dark messy hair, the black tops and tight jeans that made the girls drool, his bicep tattoo that only showed slightly when he wore t-shirts and his bloody lip ring that sent everyone, even you, into a frenzy.

Hyunjin turned his head to you and raised an eyebrow, making you swallow hard and turn your attention back to the teacher. It’s like you could feel the smirk on his face as he stretched his legs out past the table, placing a new chewing gum into his mouth.

“You can pack your things away now, remember to do page 189 by Monday”

Making a mental note to do the homework before the weekend started, you slipped your books into your bag and picked it up, placing it over your shoulder and walking towards the door.

“Hwang Hyunjin and Y/N L/N, may I have a word?”

You froze on the spot, your classmates looking at you and then to Hyunjin as they walked out to go to lunch. Placing your bag onto one of the chairs, you trudged over to the teacher’s desk and leaned against one of the tables, looking to the side as Hyunjin came up behind you, sliding himself onto one of the tables.

“Mrs Hwang has contacted the college and has expressed concern over your learning Hyunjin, especially in this lesson”

“So she decided to contact you guys before talking to me about it? how typical of her” Hyunjin muttered

Your teacher ignored the comment and continued. “So she suggested on a tutor for you in this subject, to help you along before your exam. As a college, we try and meet the requests of all parents and for this, we chose Y/N to be your new tutor”

Coughing loudly, you stared wide eyed at her and opened your mouth to protest. Hyunjin beat you to it.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I don’t need anyone to be my tutor, so none of you need to waste your time”

“This is not to be debated Hyunjin. Y/N is going to tutor you. It’s up to you whether you attend or not, but can you really afford to fail this subject?”

Hyunjin scoffed, picking up his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. “Let’s be honest, I don’t really care, I don’t need this subject”

With that, he walked out of the classroom, the door slamming behind him.

————

“Felix, I don’t think you understand how much I don’t want to do this” you groaned into the table.

Felix had been your best friend since the first day of high school. He to was from Australia, so you both bonded over that, and he was fun to be around. Seungmin had joined your duo the next day, all three of you bonding over the fact you hated chemistry. A week later, Mia and Emilie moved from America to Seoul, and had joined trio the same day. So, you were a five, and it stayed that way throughout the whole of high school, and now into college.

“Come on Y/N, it probably won’t be as bad as you think”

“Felix, stop lying, we know it’s gonna be bad”

‘Seungmin stop being so negative I’m trying to help!”

You stared at the two boys arguing before looking over at Emilie, who had taken a seat next to you.

“What’s wrong? And why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

“Because I am. I’ve been assigned to tutor Hyunjin”

Emilie gawked at you, an apologetic smile soon appearing on her face. “Damn that sucks. Has he said anything about it?”

“No, just that he didn’t need me to be it, and that we were wasting our time trying”

“Well, don’t bother helping him then”

You all looked up to see Mia standing there, a tray of food in her hands. Placing it down on the table, she slid in next to Seungmin and stared at you.

“But Miss J—“

“Who cares, if he won’t listen to you or at least speak to you, don’t bother wasting your time.”

Looking at the others, who all just shrugged at you, you sighed.

“Alright then, if he wants help, he’ll have to come to me. I’m not chasing after him”

————

You didn’t have a lesson after lunch, so you went to sit in the gym hall. The gym hall was always open, and this is where most people want if they didn’t have a lesson at a certain time. It also was where most of the freshman girls went, to gawk at the members of the dance team.

Climbing up the steps past a group of girls in your head, who had obviously come just to watch the dance members become sweaty, you sat down on the bench and pulled your phone out, plugging your earphones in.

“Hey”

Peering up, you saw a boy, who you knew as Jaeho, standing next to you.

“Hey”

Jaeho was in the same year as you, and on the dance team. You had heard he tried out to be the dance captain, but no one was going to beat the current dance captain, Lee Minho, who was a junior and also in your brother’s year.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Uhm.. no”

He sat next to you, both of you watching as the girls sitting in front of you turned round, waving and giggling as Jaeho winked at them. You swallowed, slightly uncomfortable at the attention he was bringing to you both.

“How are you?”

“I-I’m good. You?”

“Better now I’m with you”

You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment, and the pit of cringe starting to swallow you up from the inside out.

“Listen how would you lik—“

“Yo Jaeho, I don’t recall the gym hall being a date zone, do you?”

Jaeho shot his head towards the floor area, you following suit, seeing Minho standing there, arms folded over his chest, an unimpressed look on his face. Behind Minho stood the other boys apart of the dance team, including Hyunjin. Jaeho swallowed, standing up and jogging down to the others.

“No I don’t, sorry hyung”

“That’s what I thought”

You grinned at Minho, who just gave you a cheeky smile before getting on with the practice. You did enjoy watching their practices and how invested they all got with perfecting every single move, and also how smooth they were at dancing, especially Minho...and Hyunjin.

You knew he had always had a good dancing gene, but you didn’t know he danced that well. You moved your eyesight to the girls sitting in front of you, who were swooning over the boys.

“Don’t they just look so hot!”

“Especially Minho, look how good he looks ugh”

“But look at Hyunjin. God I’d love to run my fingers through his hair”

Scrunching your face up in disgust, you fumbled for your earphones, putting them in to block out the girls, unsuitable, comments.

Dance practice finished an hour, when college ended, and Hyunjin was tired. He reached down to grab his water bottle, glancing up to see Jaeho staring at you, a smirk playing in his face. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, throwing a towel at the boy.

“Use that to wipe the drool off your face Jung”

“Fuck off Hwang”

“Hey! Watch your language Jaeho. And I really don’t appreciate goggling my friend’s little sister, so watch it”

Hyunjin turned to see Minho standing there, his classic unimpressed look back on his face.

“Minho hy—“

“I don’t want to hear an excuse Jaeho. You’re here to dance, not date. Do that in your own time, like I’ve told you about ten times this month”

Jaeho groaned, walking off in a huff. The two boys watched as you collected your bag and got up, walking out of the gym.

“He’s gonna end up getting his ass kicked by someone one day” Minho muttered, taking a gulp of his water. “Uhm, Jin, how’s Jisung? I haven’t seen him around lately”

“He’s alright, he had some family matters but I think it’s sorted now”

“Ah that’s alright then. See you soon”

The taller boy nodded, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking out of the gym.

6:09pm

You squeezed the water out of your hair with a towel. Mia and Emilie had gone out for food with Felix and Seungmin, but you were too tired to go out, so you decided to stay in. You folded up the towel and threw it into the laundry basket, before jumping onto your bed and lying down. Your eyes started to close slowly when a knock on the door startled you. Climbing off your bed, you walked towards the door and opened it slowly, only to see Hyunjin standing there, looking newly showered.

“What do you want Hyunjin?” You asked, slightly annoyed at the boy.

“I thought you were tutoring me?”

He barged past you, throwing his bag onto the floor and plopping down onto a bed, which clearly wasn’t yours.

“That’s not my bed, that’s Mia’s”

“And does it look like I care?”

“Can, can you just sit on my bed? I don’t want her to get mad”

The boy groaned, slumping over to your bed and sitting down. Picking up his bag, you threw it towards him, the boy catching it effortlessly and smirking at you.

“If I’m honest, I don’t really want you in here. You said you didn’t want to be tutored and I don’t want to waste my free time. Can you just leave?”

“Yeah, I thought about not coming, but then I was like, no, I’ll come”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, to see how you’ve been since we, stopped being best friends”

You scoffed, sitting down on Emelie’s bed and glaring harshly at him. “No you prick, you don’t get to come in here and sta—“

Interrupting your heated argument was a sharp knock at the door. You both looked towards the door, you standing up and walking over to it, flinging it open.

“Hey beautiful”

Jaeho

You tried to hide the embarrassment that you could feel slowly creeping up on you, dreading that fact that Hyunjin would be able to hear everything he was saying to you.

“Hey. Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I’m great, just thought I’d stop by before heading back to my dorm”

“Where’d you get back from? Making out with girl number... 107?”

You glimpsed behind you to see Hyunjin standing behind you, arms crossed and a playful look on his face.

“What are you doing here Hwang?” Jaeho snarled at the boy, emphasising the ‘you’

“None of your business Jung” Hyunjin spat back

“Then it doesn’t matter where I’ve been before here”

“Everyone knows that you can’t keep your dick in your pants man”

“Listen here fuc—“

“Shut up! Both of you!”

The pair looked at you, anger stretching across you features.

“Jaeho, I appreciate it, but can you leave? Thanks”

He rolled his eyes, giving Hyunjin a last glare before walking off. You slammed the door before turning around and barging past the boy, throwing your arms up in the air.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Hyunjin! You can’t just barge in here, expect me to tutor you when you haven’t wanted anything to do with me for the past four years! You can’t stop a boy from speaking to me, even if you don’t like him!”

Hyunjin stared at you, his bag now on his shoulder and his hands resting on his hips.

“You don’t want anything to do with Jaeho, he’s no good.”

“And neither are you!”

He just shrugged, turning away and opening the door. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder, winking at you.

“You’re hot when you’re pissed by the way”

[stressy-enby]

Don’t Do it, Please

Author’s note

This is an original story. It talks about suicide and mentions self harm. If you have ever had the urge to do either of those things, I encourage you to find help. This is not meant to romanticize these topics, it’s meant to shed light, and hopefully provide some interesting reading. I hold all rights and claim over the characters and story, so please do not reuse them. I’ve gotten to know them quite a bit, and I’d like to keep them for myself, thanks. Feel free to reblog this, tho! Just don’t take claim to it. Thanks!

Synopsis: Fern, deciding she’s had enough with the world and with her life, decides to end it all. However, when she’s up on the school roof, she meets someone with similar intentions....

Trigger Warning: Talks of suicide, self harm, depression, being outed (as gay), strong language, and overall shitty backstories 

This is part one. If you’d like to see more of the story, please let me know! And let me know what you think!!

-Green Rose

Fern ducked out of the classroom, keeping her head bowed. She darted in between students, quickly weaving her way through the waves of teenagers.

The girl leaned inconspicuously against the door to the roof stairs, casually turning the handle, and pushing experimentally. Unlocked. Fern slipped into the staircase, closing the door quickly behind the sea of unknowing, chattering, students.

Strictly speaking, students weren’t allowed on the roof, or in the staircase. However, the door was hardly ever locked, because no one really tried to go up in the first place. There wasn’t much to see, anyway. Just maintenance stuff. Nothing interesting.

No one would notice her goin in there, anyway. No one ever seemed to notice Fern do anything anymore.

Fern felt her way along the wall as she climbed higher, squinting up the dimly lit staircase. She fumbled with her backpack at the same time, slinging it onto one shoulder and unzipping the front, pulling out the neatly folded not with two fingers.

She unfolded the note and scanned it quickly, double checking she had the right paper. Her eyes flitted over the overly familiar words; “it seems like the whole world is crashing down on me, and I’m the only one who can keep everything together.” “I’ve tried so hard to like who I am, but the people around me make it really hard for me to do that. They make it so hard to like the world I live in.”  

Fern re-folded the paper, content with her preparation. She placed the note between her lips, and zipped the bag back up. Still climbing, she return her words to her fingers again, frowning into the darkness. “How long does this thing go?”

Finally, she found herself pushing open the rooftop door, stepping out into the sunlight. She hesitated for a second. This was the threshold to the end.

No turning back. She nodded to herself. I’m done with this world, anyway.

Snide comments from her parents, her peers’ passing over her, Fern was ready to leave it all behind.

She took off her backpack, and after a second thought, started unlacing her tennis shoes. “May as well,”

Fern slipped her shoes off, and placed them on the ground on top of her note. She hummed softly to herself as she took off her yellow sweater, folding it neatly and laying it on her bag.

Suddenly, the door opened again. Like a deer in headlights, Fern stared, wide-eyed and frozen at the new comer.

A short girl with rectangular glasses stared right back. She, like Fern, clutched a note in a band-aid plastered hand. She blinked a few times, her face shifting from a set, determined look, to a slightly amused one.

“Well, this is awkward,” She said lightly. “Would a ‘hey, don’t do it please’ suffice? Or would you rather we both just go about our business?”

Her laid back words startled Fern back to reality. She watched as the girl’s face split into a crooked grin. “I-uh-what?”

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear what we’re both here for. Either we can get into sob stories, or just go on and do our separate things.”

“I.. um…” Something about another person being here made Fern feel a little embarrassed, even if she was here for the same reason.

“Oh you know what? Never mind.” Fern shoved her shoes back on, not bother ing to tie the laces, plunged the note into her pocket, and jerkily grabbed for her things. “Do whatever you want. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Glasses Girl said evenly, still grinning. “See ya.”

Yeah, sure. Fern marched off of the roof, cheeks burning. She could still feel the girl’s gaze on her back as the door swung shut. She could practically still see that light hearted grin as she tripped down he stairs.

. . . . . . . . . . .

By sixth period, Fern was very aware of two things. One: Glasses Girl was still very much alive. Two: she was in her biology class. Fern had just never took note of her before, she typically kept her head down and tried to avoid as much contact as she could with her classmates. She watched bug-eyed as Glasses Girl passed Fern at her desk, flashing her that cheeky grin.

For forty-five minutes, Fern stared at the back of her braided head of hair. Glasses Girl was pretty quiet. She didn’t say much, but she was always working. Writing. Her head bowed over a small, silver not book, her blue mechanical pencil skimming across its pages. Whatever she was writing about, Fern had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t lecture notes.

She hastened to pack up before the bell rang, determined to get out before Glasses Girl could pin her down. To Fern’s surprise, though, Glasses Girl didn’t say a word to her. She did make a point of walking beside her as they left class, even giving her a mild smile. She brushed right past her when they reached the courtyard, leaving Fern flustered and bemused.

What is her deal? Fern tried to brush the encounter off as an unlucky coincidence. An unlucky coincidence that happened yet again about an hour later.

As Fern spilt out of the school gates with the rest of the students to walk home, she saw Glasses Girl once again. She didn’t seem to notice her this time though. She was preoccupied with hiding from someone from the looks of it. She kept ducking behind and around other kids, but she always had her eye on something. Fern couldn’t pick up what she was looking at, but whatever it was, Glasses Girl was glaring it at with such animosity, she was glad she hadn’t been noticed yet.

She keeps popping up. Fern mused as she watched the girl furiously clean her glasses on her shirt. Is she trying to find me? Am I being stalked? She doesn’t really seem like a stalker, or at least not a good one.

Fern slipped into the back of a group of friends before Glasses Girl saw her. Not that it would’ve been a problem, seeing as she was still glaring daggers at someone in front of her as though they had killed and eaten her pet goldfish.

. . . . . . . . . . .

There she was again. Glasses Girl was showing up everywhere. The next morning, as Fern was heading to her locker, there she was, sitting on the floor a few feet away, once again scribbling away in that little silver notebook. She gave Fern a smirk, accompanied by a two-fingered salut. Frazzled, Fern walked right past her locker, and didn’t bother to return to it, even when the first bell rang.

That girl is starting to creep me out. Fern watched from a safe distance as Glasses Girl put her pencil in her mouth and her notebook under her arm, power walking to the Spanish building. What’s her deal? Where does she keep coming from?

It took Fern about twenty seconds to realize that she was also going to the Spanish building, and scurried after the girl.

Please don’t be in my class, please don’t be in my class, please don’t be in my class, please don’t be in my class, please don’t- goddamnit.

Even Glasses Girl look pleasantly surprised when Fern appeared at the doorway, grinning at her again. She was ignored, and Fern pointedly walked to her front row corner seat, as Glasses Girl watch in amusement from the third row.

Is she in any of my other classes? Fern wracked her brain, but it couldn’t seem to produce any memory of the girl in any of her classes, even Spanish in biology. Glasses Girl seemed to be trying to fly under the radar like she was, and it was apparently working.

Was that the impression she was leaving on everyone? It couldn’t be just Fern who hadn’t noticed that she existed. And further, was that the impression that Fern was leaving as well?

. . . . . . . . . . .

“Are you kidding me?”

Glasses Girl had beaten Fern to the exit to the roof. She sat at the foot of the door, her hands tucked behind her head.

“Hey,” She said casually, as if they hadn’t been unintentionally chasing each other around for twenty-four hours. “It’s locked today.”

“What?” Fern snapped, squinting at the odd girl.

“The stair case,” She elaborated, pointing a thumb behind her. “Guess they remembered to lock the door for one. Wanna go elsewhere for lunch?”

“I didn’t really plan on eating lunch today,” Fern’s ears burnt, and she shoved her hands into her sweater pockets guiltily.

“I figured. I’ve got some money on me, so I can buy you something from the vending machines.” Glasses Girl stood, grinning roguishly. “Better than nothing! C’mon.”

“Uh, sure.” Seeing nothing better to do, and honestly with curiosity getting the better of her, Fern followed the girl.

[demigodsanswer]

Hazel Levesque: Into the Prophecy-verse pt. 1

Time for the prologue to an AU I’ve wanted to write for a long time and need to finally get out of my brain. Hazel is a little OOC in this, but that’s because it’s an AU where she grows up in the modern world, not the 1920s. 

Description:

Rome was a three-thousand year old empire, with two capitals - Old Rome in Italy and New Rome in America. New Rome was the powerhouse of the gods and their hero’s.

The children of the Olympian gods lived amongst mortals, the most powerful of them joining the Legion, and some even earning fame status when major prophecies thrusted one or a few of them into the spot light. 

Hazel Levesque is an unclaimed, unimportant demigod, unsuitable for the esteemed legion. And she’s about to find herself at the middle of a major prophecy. 

~*~*~*~

Alright let’s do this one last time

“My name is Jason Grace. I’m the son of Jupiter and for ten years, I’ve the one and only child of the Big Three. I’m pretty sure you know the rest: I saved a bunch of people, fell in love, saved the city, and then I saved the city again and again and again. I also did this [cut to Jason getting hit in the head with a brick]. We don’t talk about that. Look, I’m a comic book, I’m a cereal, did a Christmas album, have an excellent theme song, and a so-so popsicle. I mean, I’ve looked worse. But after everything, I still love being the hero. I mean, who wouldn’t? So no matter how many hits I take, I always find a way to come back, because the only thing standing between this city and oblivion is me. There’s only one child of the Big Three. And you’re looking at him.” 

Hazel was listening to her music too loud to hear Chiron calling her. She had her first day at some prep school for demigods, meaning she was leaving Chiron’s half-way house for unclaimed and untamable demigods. 

New Rome was overflowing with demigods who either hadn’t been claimed or had been rejected from the Legion. Lupa had deemed her and her friend Leo “too insubordinate” for the Legion. He set the wolf on fire (an accident) and she had told the wolf to eat shit (not an accident.) Demigods who didn’t fit in the Legion and couldn’t live at their home with their mortal parents (like Hazel, who’s mom had been deem “unsuitable”) or didn’t have mortal parents (like Leo) lived in one of the half-way houses. There was hundreds of them around the country, all named “Chiron’s Half-Way House,” but only the New Rome branch was actually graced by the old Greek Centaur. 

He did his best to train or rehabilitate problem kids, getting them ready for either the legion or the real world. He was the one who had insisted every demigod apply to some fancy, over-priced prep school. And Hazel was the only one of them dumb enough to be smart enough to get in.  

 “Do I have to go?” She asked Chiron, as he adjusted the collar of her uniform (which she already hated.) 

“This is a step in the right direction for you Hazel.” 

She tugged on one of her curls, pulling it straight in front of her eyes before letting it bounce back into place. Chiron led her out to the car. Leo was waiting out on the front porch. 

“Don’t forget us little people while you’re off becoming some famous hero or some shit, Levesque.” He said, smiling. 

Hazel pulled him into a hug. “Who could forget you?” 

“I’ll bust you out as soon as I can,” he whispered. 

Hazel sat, clearly angry, in the back of Chiron’s car. He couldn’t drive, being a centaur and all, so Argus, the thousand-eyed half-way house driver was behind the wheel, and Chiron lectured her about all of her opportunities. 

“I don’t care,” Hazel protested. “I don’t want to go, I’m only here because I drew some pictures.” Her scholarship was art-based, that was true. She was a good artist. Not a really notable demigod skill, though. Still, someone had to mosaic all of Jason Grace’s accomplishments. They were only one year away from some world-ending prophecy that the tabloids still had yet to leak. So it was only a matter of time before Golden Boy Supreme (as Leo had nicknamed him) added another line on his resume. And if Hazel was lucky, which she rarely was, she’d be there to sculpt the whole thing in marble. 

“You passed the entrance exam just like everyone else,” Chiron told her. “This is your opportunity, Hazel. Do you want to end up like --” 

He cut himself off, but she knew how that sentence ended. Like her mother. Her mom wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t bad. She was actually pretty cool. The courts were just picky about who was allowed to raise demigod children. Even mega-Hero Grace grew up with a foster mom - Sally Jackson, poster mom for good demigod parenting. Literally, her picture was on the side of buses. She had her own book. She had been on The View with the nine muses. 

Her mom wasn’t Sally Jackson, for sure, but she always made sure Hazel had food, and she taught her how to draw. The court’s problem was her mom’s inability to hold down a job. The only thing she managed consistently was selling her own homemade jewelry. It was all bullshit though. If Hazel wasn’t a demigod, they never would have separated them. 

“Whatever,” Hazel said as they pulled up to the school. She grabbed her backpack and suitcase, and preyed to whatever god her father was that she would be kicked out by the end of the day. 

“Tie your shoes!” Chiron yelled after her. She ignored him. 

Hazel walked into a whirlwind. The school was huge. Most people were in their uniforms, although a few wore ancient Roman style armor over theirs. Some carried stacks of books, and other had spears and swords. Half her day was academic - Latin, literature, history, science, and math. The other half was training - weaponry, climbing, survival skills, and pegasus riding. At least they had Pegasi here. She had been trained well enough at the half way house, but there were unfortunately lacking in magic horses. Well, besides Chiron’s lower half, which Hazel wasn’t too keen on riding. 

“You’re shoe’s untied,” a stranger said, passing Hazel. 

“Yeah, I know it’s a choice.” 

The sneakers probably weren’t uniform, but she didn’t earn the label “insubordinate” for nothing. 

She found her locker, wide and tall enough for armor, weapons, and other demigod provisions, and shoved her suitcase in it. She figured she would move into her dorm later on. 

Someone opened the locker next to hers. “Oh this is so embarrassing,” Hazel said to her locker neighbor, “we are wearing the same jacket.” She laughed awkwardly, but the girl just rolled her eyes before walking away. 

Off to a good start, Hazel though before grabbing her backpack and moving on to her first class. 

Each class seemed to come with its own thousand pound textbook. And the long, winding hallways made it impossible to stop at her locker in between classes. By fifth period - history - she had four new text books and figured she was about to get one more. 

She walked in late. She hoped the darkness of the room helped cover her late arrival, but she cast a shadow in front of the projector. 

“Ah Miss. Levesque,” her history teacher, some old guy named Mr. Quintus, paused the movie, “you’re late.” 

She shrugged, “Maybe y’all are just early.” 

A girl with black spiky hair and dark eye make up let out a stifled chuckle. Quitus and Hazel looked at her. “Sorry, it was just so quiet.” 

“Please take your seat, Miss, Levesque.” He started playing the movie again. Some history documentary. The Romans loved those. This one had some young narrator, who would have been handsome if it wasn’t for the scar down his face. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Hazel could have mistaken him for Jason Grace, if Jason were twenty-five, not fifteen. 

“The Titan Saturn, lord of Time, was overthrown by Jupiter and his other brothers and sisters, and his remains cast away.” 

Hazel was just staring to tune the whole thing out when Quintus paused the video again. “Can anyone tell me the Greek name for the Titan Saturn?” The girl next to Hazel raised her hand. “Yes, Miss. Grace?” 

“Kronos,” she offered. 

“Very good,” Quintus restarted the film. Hazel thought about leaning over and asking her if she was related to Jason, but figured she probably got that all the time. 

A week later, Quintus stopped Hazel on her way out the door. “Miss. Levesque?” 

She walked over to his desk. “What’s up?” 

Quintus showed her the score from their history quiz the day before. A red 0/100 was written across the scantron. 

“A zero?” Hazel tried to look genuinely upset. “A few more of those and you’ll probably have to kick me out of here, huh?”

“If a person wearing a blind fold took a true or false quiz at random, what score would they get?” 

“Fifty percent?” 

Quintus changed her 0 to a 100. “That’s right.” He stood and faced the bored to start erasing that day’s lecture notes. “Are you familiar with the story of Icarus, Miss. Levesque?” 

“Uh yeah, he was escaping the Labyrinth with his father with a pair of bronze wings. But he flew too close to the sun, the wax melted, and he fell into the ocean. it’s about pride, right?” 

“Correct,” he said, turning to face her, “but you left out a crucial element. Yes, Icarus was instructed by his father not to fly too high. But he was also told not too fly too low, as the sea mist could also weaken the wax.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked. 

“You’re trying to quit, and I won’t let you. You must remember not to let yourself fly too low, it’s just as dangerous. I’m assigning you a personal essay. Not about history, but about yourself and the kind of person who you want to be.” 

Hazel had spent an hour at her desk, trying to write anything for Quintus or for her literature essay, but her ADHD was going off the rails. She wished Leo would make good on his promise to bust her out of there. 

But she decided not to wait for Leo. 

She hadn’t seen her mom in a while. She grabbed her hoodie before making her way down the fire escape. 

[bifrostiron]

Dalton Big Bang | Day 35: NSFW Day

Magic in the Hamptons (Part 5)

Julian didn’t exactly avoid Logan, after that. But he didn’t make it a point to seek him out either.

It was easier than he would have expected. They were both busy, their coursework catching up to them rapidly as the semester wore on. Logan also had fencing and Warblers to occupy him, while Julian frequently busied himself with script work. And with Derek around so often, he didn’t even think it was all that suspicious that the two of them weren’t spending time alone.

Of course, Derek had a nasty habit of being entirely too perceptive when it came to Julian.

“What’s wrong?”

Julian sighed inwardly at the sound of his friend’s voice from the doorway. He kept his eyes locked firmly on the book in front of him, his voice carefully measured as he replied, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Derek strode into the room, the door swinging shut behind him as he leaned against a bedpost. Julian snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw him staring, unconvinced, his arms crossed.

“Julian…”

“I said I’m fine, Derek,” Julian snapped back.

“Look, you might be an award-winning actor, but you really suck at pretending like you’re okay.”

Julian pursed his lips. Derek saw through him, of course, and he wasn’t sure it was worth it to keep pretending.

“Is it about Logan?”

Julian wasn’t surprised that he’d found out, but the sudden softness in Derek’s tone caught him off guard. He looked up quickly, and the resigned expression on Derek’s face told him he’d given himself away. He sighed.

“Look,” Derek said carefully, pushing himself off the bedpost. “If you’re not okay with sharing—“

Julian frowned. “It’s not—“ he interjected quickly, screwing his eyes shut. “We’re not sharing, okay? He isn’t mine to share. He can do what he wants. Besides, he asked you first.”

Derek looked him over carefully. “But it bothers you,” he observed.

“It…doesn’t, really,” Julian said quietly.

It was true. Sure, he’d been a little taken aback when Logan had decided to seek out Derek first, but that all faded away the second he made a move on Julian. Somehow, Julian never saw Derek as a threat. Whatever this thing was between them, it had always included all three of them.

“Really,” Derek replied skeptically.

“I’m…” Julian sighed. He turned in his chair to face Derek. “I don’t care if he fucks you. Or…or whatever it is you two do. Really.”

Derek paused, looking him over. “You have feelings for him.”

It wasn’t a question. Julian’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“It’s none of your business,” Julian mumbled.

“Of course it’s my fucking business. I’m your friend.”

“Okay, fine,” Julian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Yes, I’m in love with Logan. Are you happy?”

Derek paused, and when he spoke again, his voice held an air of concern. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I seem to recall that it was your idea,” Julian pointed out flippantly.

“Actually, it was Logan’s,” Derek argued. “Still. Neither of us expected anyone to catch feelings.”

Julian paused, biting nervously at his lower lip. Derek narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

He sighed. If Derek knew already, he might as well know the whole story.

“I didn’t…catch feelings, exactly,” Julian mumbled, not looking at him.

“Oh my god.”

“Shut up.”

He snuck a quick glance up at Derek, who stared open-mouthed at Julian, his eyes soft with concern.

“Jules,” he breathed, his voice low. “Why did you…?”

“Because I didn’t think he’d ever want me at all!” Julian blurted out. He looked up fully, his eyes betraying a quiet desperation. “He’s never looked my way, not even once. And I wasn’t going to risk our friendship over a stupid crush. But then he kissed me, and suddenly we were all in this fucked-up three-way friends-with-benefits thing and I liked it, and yeah I guess maybe I went a little overboard but it’s not like I expected it to last but guess what? He wanted it to, apparently, because I guess I’m still a pretty good lay even if he doesn’t give a single shit about me otherwise—“

“Julian,” Derek interrupted, and Julian groaned.

“I just—“ His voice cracked, and he turned away, resting his elbows on the desk and burying his face in his hands.

He heard Derek’s soft footsteps as he approached, and when his hand came to rest on Julian’s shoulder, he jumped a little but didn’t pull away.

“Have you told him how you feel?” Derek asked quietly.

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Honesty. Open communication with your friends, with the people you’re sleeping with.”

Julian scoffed. “You’re not in any position to lecture me about that.”

“Whatever,” Derek grumbled. “Just—how do you know he wouldn’t feel the same way?”

“Because I know him.”

Derek laughed gently. “Yeah, and I thought I knew you two, but I didn’t think we’d ever end up fucking each other.”

Julian couldn’t exactly argue with that.

“Look…it’s your life.” Derek pulled his hand away, the absence of warmth noticeable. “Fuck whoever you want, not like I give a crap. But just…” He turned back to catch Julian’s eye, something unreadable in his expression. “Think about it, okay?”

“Maybe,” Julian conceded, knowing that it would never be that simple.

“And if it bothers you, I don’t have to keep hooking up with him.”

Julian laughed. If Derek was offering to stop having sex with someone for his sake, he clearly valued their friendship pretty highly.

But Julian had realized that he didn’t particularly want him to stop.

“No, that actually doesn’t bother me,” he said quietly. Derek looked skeptical, and Julian shrugged. “I like watching you guys. It’s fun. You’re hot together.” He grinned. “Besides, I think we all know who gives better head.”

“Oh fuck you.”

Julian’s grin widened. “I mean, if you’re offering…”

Derek shook his head, but his eyes caught Julian’s.

“Do you really want to?” he said hesitantly.

Julian bit his lip. It might not be a good idea. It probably wasn’t, actually. But it had been a while since he’d had sex that wasn’t fraught with the emotional baggage he had with Logan. And while he’d never admit it aloud, Derek was pretty good in bed. He’d give Julian what he wanted, at least.”

“Fuck,” Derek said shakily at the look on Julian’s face. He seemed to consider it for a moment, but he quickly shook his head. “No, c’mon, I’m not gonna pity-fuck you.”

“Hey, it’s not pity,” Julian snarled. “I don’t want pity, I just want to get laid.”

“So go ask Logan.”

Julian scoffed. “I’m not really in the mood…for that. Right now.”

Derek didn’t respond, though he looked like he wanted to. Julian sighed.

“Look, no offense, but I don’t really see you that way.”

Derek laughed. “Yeah, no, same.”

“So it’s just…easier.” He waved his hand noncommittally in the air. Derek had to understand. It was the same with him and Logan, wasn’t it? ”It’s casual, no-strings, just two guys blowing off some steam.”

“Two guys blowing each other, you mean,” Derek muttered. Julian snorted.

“Well, if you want to give that a shot…”

Derek lifted his chin in defiance. “You’re just afraid I’ll be better at it than you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Julian licked his lips teasingly. “Unlikely,” he said after a moment. “I’ve talked to some of your exes.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so annoying.” At Julian’s answering smirk, he sighed. “Fine. Take off your pants.”

“Such a romantic,” Julian muttered, but he was already starting on his zipper.

“I thought that’s what you didn’t want?” Derek said with a grin. He got to work undoing his own shorts, taking a seat on Julian’s bed.

“It’s not.” Julian got to his feet, sliding his pants down over his hips. “So you better be ready to pound me into the mattress.”

It seemed that Derek was up to the challenge.

Julian crawled into his lap with no further prelude, and apart from a surprised gasp when he brought their lips together, Derek was ready for him. It was different with Derek. He had always been more sure of himself, even as he fumbled a little through the parts that were less familiar. It seemed that once he got past the initial awkwardness of being with a guy, his instincts took over, and he wasted no time in going for what he wanted.

Thankfully for Julian, what they both wanted tended to be along similar lines.

He had been prepared to take the lead, to climb into Derek’s lap and ride him until he was satisfied. But he was pleasantly surprised when instead, Derek immediately rolled him onto his back, throwing one leg over his hips to straddle him.

Derek was a lot rougher than Logan. Even when Julian had practically begged him for more, Logan had still been careful with him, always hesitant as though he was afraid to take things too far. Derek had no such concerns. His thighs pinned Julian to the bed as he rummaged through his nightstand drawer for a bottle of lube, wasting no time slicking himself up while Julian watched eagerly.

He hesitated just a moment, eyes meeting Julian’s with a look of uncertainty. “Do you need me to…” he trailed off awkwardly, and Julian snorted.

“You don’t have to finger me,” he mumbled. His legs spread obediently, and Derek’s breath hitched. “I can take it.”

Derek nodded, bracing himself with one hand on Julian’s chest as he slowly entered him.

Julian’s eyes slipped shut, his head falling back against the mattress. He let out a deep, satisfied moan as Derek filled him up, angling his hips for more. Derek took only a moment to let him get acclimated before he started thrusting, fucking Julian just the way he liked. They didn’t talk, didn’t feel the need to make this anything more than physical. It was simpler that way.

Derek shifted position, tucking Julian’s knees into his chest and hitting a deeper angle. Julian writhed against the bed, and he moaned loudly, his breathing ragged. Derek’s hips stuttered above him, and he could tell the other boy was getting close. Absentmindedly, he reached for his own cock, stroking in time with Derek’s thrusts.

Just as he felt his own orgasm building, Derek’s hips snapped hard against him as he came with a low groan. Julian’s hand stilled, giving Derek a moment to collect himself before he continued working himself. Derek pulled out, settling back on his heels, and when Julian snuck a quick glance through hooded eyes he caught him staring wide-eyed as he finished himself off.

With a final flick of his wrist, Julian came, biting his lip against a low moan. When his eyes fluttered open, Derek was still watching, eyes fixed on Julian’s sprawled legs. Julian grinned.

“Enjoying the view?” he said breathlessly, letting his hand fall to the side.

Derek’s cheeks tinged pink as he returned to his senses, looking away to focus on removing the condom. “Shut up,” he muttered.

Julian snickered, raising his arms behind his head. He stretched out lazily on the bed, not wanting to move just yet even as he felt his own cum drying on his stomach. His head lolled to the side, watching Derek as he got to his feet.

“So I guess this is a thing now,” he said casually.

Derek’s back was still turned when he answered, “We did say we all wanted it to be.”

Julian hummed gently. He watched as Derek retrieved his pants from the floor, tugging them on casually as if he hadn’t just finished fucking one of his best friends.

“Thanks,” Julian muttered suddenly, not quite sure what he was thanking Derek for.

Derek glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t mention it.”