#hed just be smugly side eyeing will or something

[greensapphic]

Hannibal but instead of will slowly loosing his mind or whatever him and hannibal were in cahoots the whole time

[agentsoftie]

“I Love You” ( S.R )

summary: you get kidnapped and tortured but luckily the team find you fast enough. you act like everything’s fine but spencer doesn’t believe it so he takes care of you. when he does this you both share some things

a/n: the title is like a quote from everyone and everything that has said it! yes, i did just think of that. also the first part of this might be triggering so, trigger warning! oh and thanks @thestrawberrygirl for helping me with the end!!

warnings: trigger warning: blood, cuts, mention of death : angst : fluffy end though because i like to make y/n’s life always have a fairytale ending

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tagging: @criminalmindsmoodrn, @marshmallowtraver, and @ghostly-angelic

Remember to like and reblog!!

It’s been 21 hours. 21 hours since you got captured. Or at least that’s what the clock said. All you remember before blacking out was going out in the field. Everyone was split into pairs but you were the only one alone. You remember going out into a pitch-black alleyway. I guess that’s what you expect from going into one at night as a woman right.

You looked down to find cuts and blood all over you. You could still feel the pain but at this point, you had given up on any promise of your team finding you again. You just accepted your faith and tried not to entertain the guy that was holding you captive. You couldn’t get up because your ribs we’re broken, or at least that would explain the tremendous amounts of pain you felt when you tried to get up the first couple of times. You could feel that there was blood on your face, but what was the point of cleaning up. No one was gonna see you alive, except him.

“CLAUDE IRAY!!” You hear someone yell. You’re pretty sure it was Derek but at this point, this could all be a hallucination.

“Yes?” You hear him say smugly. You couldn’t tell where he was, but he was somewhere.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 5 women, now where is Y/N Y/L/N!!” Derek said while cuffing him. Claude just remained silent.

“Y/N!! Y/N!!” You hear Spencer yell.

“In here!” You say after mustering up the energy to speak.

“Oh my god!” He says as he sees you. You couldn’t really see him. All you saw was his messy fluffy hair. You love that hair. He runs over to you and puts your head on his lap. He finds your pulse which is barely still there. He grabs your hand as you start to close your eyes. “Stay with me, come on you can do that. Just keep your eyes open for me. Come on,”

You didn’t quite finish hearing what he said because it was too late. Your eyes were closed, and you were fine with it. You had known something like this would possibly happen when you signed up for the academy so there was no arguing. The best you could do was try not to get blood on his shirt, which you miserably failed at.

“Y/N? Y/N come on. Y/N please,” All you felt was a tear on your face before blacking out.

“Reid, it’s been 3 days, you need to go home and get some sleep.” You faintly hear someone say.

“Hotch, no. I can’t leave her. She needs someone.”

“She has someone. Garcia, JJ, and Blake are outside right now and Morgan and Rossi are on their way here. But the difference is that they actually got sleep last night, and you should too. In your own bed, at home.”

“But sir,” Before he could say anything you moved your hand in a visible way and opened your eyes only to close them because of the blinding lights that were shining down. They both turned to look at you and just stared.

“Well hello to the both of you too,” You mummer while trying to sit up a little. “I uh, where am I?”

“Um, the hospital,” Spencer says.

“Oh, okay. Chill,” You say while your eyes still process all the light. 3 women entered the room, they were pretty blurry so you could barely tell who they were. “Oh my god, baby are you okay?” You see the one on the right say.

“Yeah, or think at least.”

One of them came quickly to your side and hed your hand, that was Blake. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again. You had us all worried sick,”

“Okay mom,” You say jokingly, but everyone else doesn’t seem to find it funny.

“We’re serious hun. We were all terrified of what could have happened to you.” Now that was JJ. She just had her ‘disappointed for no reason but seriously worried’ mom voice going on.

“Oh, you’re awake, finally,” Rossi says while he walks through the door with Derek following him. Derek didn’t say anything, he just came next to you and patted your shoulders with the ‘I’m glad you’re okay kid’ look.

“Yes yes I am awake and well, or at least I think. What ever happened to me? And what happened to him?” You say now fully awake.

“You were unconscious and unstable. Luckily Reid found you in time, or else you probably wouldn’t be here right now. And as for Iray, he’s in jail for now, but you will need to testify.” Hotch says in his normal stern voice. It was like nothing changed, but you and everyone else knew that they had a big time.

“So how damaged am I?” You say just as the doctor walks in.

“I can help you with that. I’m Dr.Stevens and its nice to see that you’re up. You have a mild concussion, a few broken ribs, and some physical therapy.” She says while checking your BP. “How long will I be here?” You ask wanting to get out of this shit hole. “Um, about 3 or 4 days. Although when you do get home you’re gonna want to have someone there, so do you have anyone that could help?

Before you could say anything Spencer answered. “She’s staying with me.” You didn’t want to argue with him because you didn’t have any relatives that could take care of you, and you felt safe in his company. Plus, he looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep and you did not want to mess with ‘no sleep Spencer’ it was like a death sentence.

“Okay, great!” Is all she said before walking out.

“Spencer are you sure about this?” You ask while you get changed.

“Yes, Y/N. I am sure. Now come on, hurry up.”

“So, you’re just gonna drop me off at my place right,” You ask when opening the curtain.

“No. You are gonna stay with me, at my place.”

“But,”

“No ‘buts’ come on, you need someone.”

“I know I know I just don’t want to be a burden.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not. Now come one, let’s get checked out.”

The car ride home was silent, but it was a comforting silence. A silence you needed after the disaster of a week you had. Spencer’s apartment was about half an hour away from the hospital, but yours was only 20 so you were confused as of stopping. “Wait, if I’m staying at your place then don’t I need clothes?”

“Yeah, Blake went and got some?”

“She has my key? Huh?”

“Yeah, you gave it to her the other day. You probably don’t remember though.” He says while laughing very lightly. There was the Spencer you knew. The Spencer you love. The Spencer you would do anything for. But, you couldn’t have him. Maeve was the only one he had ever loved and knowing him, he’s probably still grieving.

“Okay, here we are,” He says while pulling up to a semi-empty parking lot. He got out first, but being the kind gentleman he is he helped you out. Luckily you didn’t have any bags or luggage to carry with you so it wasn’t that hard to get to his place but you were still sore as hell so the ride up the elevator was a little painful. Spencer had noticed and asked if you were okay, but all you said was everything’s fine, and that he shouldn’t worry. He knew better though so the minute you walked in the apartment he went in the kitchen.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” You say sitting down.

“Here, drink this. I used to make this for my mom whenever she got a headache.” He says handing you a drink.

“But I don’t have a headache,”

“Just drink it, trust me.” So you did exactly what he said and drank it. You couldn’t tell if it was tea or coffee. It had a peppermint taste and smell though so you were very confused and he noticed. “Its uh, peppermint tea. Does it taste good?” You simply responded with a nod. “Well, um we should probably go to sleep now,” He says while looking outside.

“I can just sleep here on the couch or something, it’s no big deal,” You say halfway finished with the tea.

“I can’t just let you sleep on the couch. what if you get hurt?”

“And how would that happen?”

“I don’t know but what if? Come on how about you sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep here. On the couch,”

“Spencer, I can’t just take your own bed from you in your own house. That’s just plain rude.”

“Fine then sleep with me. Oh, wait, I didn’t mean that,” He says fumbling over his words. You loved it when he did this, it gave him a more human side. “I mean, you and I can sleep in the same bed. It’s a win-win for both of us. You know, like I will sleep in my own bed like you want, and you’ll be safe like I want.” You never noticed how much he talks with his hands when he gets nervous, it’s cute.

“Okay, fine. Just know that i'm fine though.”

“Stop!! Please!! I didn't do anything! Please, I promise I wont say anything!!” You yell in the middle of the night or whatever. You didn't know, it was a dream. But it felt so real. It was like he was there and it was happening all over again. “Please just let me go!” You yell again. You couldn't help it.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N wake up!” Spencer yells as he moves your arm.

You open your eyes and immediately jump up. “Spencer, I uh, I'm, I’m fine.” You say still trying to regain all your air. You weren't fine and he knew it. I mean, how do explain that without saying the truth? Do you say you had a dream about Hotch giving you more paperwork? No, he would never believe that. What about you getting your haircut involuntarily? That could possibly work.

“Y/N, you're not fine,” He says in a very scratch deep voice. He had just woken up and you could tell.

“Yes I am, now go back to-” You were cut off by a very new version of Spencer. A version you had never seen before. You weren’t scared in a sense just worried. He wasn’t playing around and definity was not going to go to sleep until you admit everything.

“Y/N come on. Just tell me everything. Was that about, you know,” he says in a more softer comforting tone this time.

“Just call him by his name. Claude Iray. And yeah, it was. Now can we just go back to sleep, my back is killing me.”

“Come here,” he said before pulling you close to his chest. It was comfortable and actually really soothing. “Talk, tell me everything.”

“I can't. I can’t cause’ if I do then it's like living it all over again and I just, I just can't!”

“What were you thinking about?” He asks as if nothing just happened.

“When?”

“In those 21 hours.”

“The team, my friends, you. I was thinking about all the things that I didn't get to say. The things that I needed to say.”

“Like what?”

“Well, um,” you pulled away from his chest, not sure if what you were gonna say next would be the best option in the world. “I was thinking of how I didnt get to say “I love you” to you. And I totally get it if you know you don't feel the same way. It makes total sense and stuff, and if this is uncomfortable and stuff I can go to Alex’s. She is kinda like my mom so it would make sense if she took care of me. Oh god now I'm rambling.”

He looked at you for a second as if he was unsure with what you just said. But then he grabbed you and put his lips on yours. It took you a minute to process everything that was happening, but the minute you did you kissed back. He pulled you in closer the minute you did. Sadly though you both needed to break apart because of loss of air.

“I love you too,”

“Love is a great beautifier”

— louisa may alcott

[angrylizardjacket]

a process {John Deacon}

Anon asked: Could you write something where reader (possibly in the band) and deaky are totally in love with each other but both are too shy to say anything and oblivious to see the others feelings but at the end the get together and it’s 100% fluff? Thank u sm your fics are gold

A/N: 3169 words. If I recall, some people wanted some Deaky fic?? He’s so lovely and this was a lot of fun to write!! Again, this is the BoRhap!Deaky. Also I wrote half of this at work; this is university funded fic ladies and gentlemen.

“Alright, boys, jus’ letting you know we’ve got a new intern in today; Y/N, she’s going to be shadowing me.” The sound designer, Earl, a skinny gentleman who always seemed to be wearing black, denim shorts no matter the weather, announces your arrival over the microphone to the recording studio where the band was discussing what song to practice next. In the next moment, you have four pairs of eyes all watching you through the glass of the sound studio, and you give a nervous wave back.

“Hello.” You offer, awkwardly, and Earl leans in to the microphone on the desk.

“She says hello.” He informs the others, and you feel like an idiot. Fortunately, the men all wave back, giving quick greetings of their own, before going back to their discussion.

“They’re good.” Earl, pulled up a spare chair for you by the desk, checking the levels as they started up on a new song. From anyone else, the words would sound like a mild compliment at best, but from Earl, who you’ve known practically forever, he was a friend of the familys’, and he did not shy away from complaining about the ‘teeny bopper drivel’ he had to make sound half-decent, you knew it was closer to a round of applause.

“Intern? Does that mean you get us drinks?” They’re actually recording now, one at a time, while the rest of them lounged around on the other side of the room with you. You’re perched on the edge of your chair by the sound desk when the drummer, Roger, speaks to you. Their lead singer, Freddie was at that moment, currently in the recording studio, crooning into the microphone with his headphones on, and it takes you a moment to turn and consider what he had said.

“I mean… yeah, I guess?” Looking to Earl to either confirm or deny the request, he’s focused on the sound desk, just waves you off with a distracted affirmation. A grin stretches over Roger’s face.

“Bourbon, thanks.” And his grin only got wider at your sudden confusion.

“Water for him.” Pipes up the bass player, John, sitting against the wall with his ankles crossed, smiling up at you. “And one for me too, if it’s not too much trouble.” Relieved, you smiled back at him despite Roger’s protests. “You want anything, Bri?” John asked their guitarist, and you ended up getting drinks for everyone. Thankful that they kept fresh bottles in the break room, you returned as Freddie stepped out of the sound booth, and his recording was played back. His smile was stiff as you handed him a water bottle, though it was probably because he was trying to concentrate on the playback of his vocals than any malice towards you. Roger accepted the drink begrudgingly, and Brian smiled at you.

“I’m John, by the way.” Holding out his hand to you, you bent down to shake John’s hand where he was still sitting on the floor.

“I know,” you answered automatically, though he could see the regret on your face as soon as you said it, “I mean, we can hear you guys from in there, talking and everything,” you tried to explain yourself, still shaking his hand. After a long moment silence, he’s still looking at you with a bewildered, but pleasant smile. “I’m Y/N.” You finally manage.

“I know.” And he’s grinning at you, amused as you finally retract your hand to cross your arms over your chest. “You were introduced.” Pointing at Earl, you followed his gaze to the sound desk and the glass window, through which you could see Freddie setting up for another take.

“I’m Roger.” Roger offers from the side, and he seems to be splitting his focus between you and the singer.

“He’s Roger.” John muttered, much more quietly. How he was able to verbally communicate a fond eye-roll, you may never know.

“What does this one do?” Three weeks into your three month internship, and you’re minding the desk while Earl’s on break, slapping away John’s hands as he tries to get near the buttons.

“I don’t know.” You laughed for the fourth time in a row, pushing his hands gently from the desk.

“This one makes things loud, right?” His fingers edge towards one of the faders and you can see the grin he wears as he watches your expression closely, deciding if you’re going to slap him away from it again. The others have gone to get lunch and he’s keeping you company. He’s been doing that a lot recently, and you wouldn’t say you minded. John’s good company, unexpectedly sharp, and he always seems happy to see you.

“You probably shouldn’t touch that one; it’s for your bass.” You raised your eyebrows at him, lips twitching as you repressed a smile, watching him retract his hand to fold it in his lap.

“So that one’s for the bass, but what about the others?” He asked, nodding to the other faders, and you shrugged.

“Not sure.” Your response only made him smile wider.

“But you know which one the bass one is?” He asked, and you let yourself smile at him, a little more mischievous than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just told you that so you wouldn’t touch it.” There’s an unspoken challenge in your words, and his fingers danced along the bottom of the soundboard, just below where the masking tape labels for the faders have all worn away. There’s a moment, he’s hovering over one that looks like it’s labelled ‘Mic 2’ and you’re hand is already raised ready to knock him back, when the door bursts open and the others all spill in.

“Alright, out of my seat.” Earl pulls the rolling chair back with you still in it, and you obligingly hop out. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” He asked, just like he had every single time since he’d first trusted you to look over it while he was gone.

“Yeah, Deaky, did you-” Roger’s wearing a shit-eating grin, but the bass player has hopped out of the seat that usually belongs to you, to make a beeline for the recording studio.

“Oh shut it, Rog,” he snaps, and though you can’t see the blush rising on his cheeks, he knows it’s there. “No.” He adds, and Roger’s exaggerated eye-roll, and the comment he had made, make you blush also, but you’re not entirely sure why, or at least, you won’t admit to yourself why.

“Okay, take, uh, take six? Take six of Killer Queen’s bass.” You stumbled over your words while speaking over the microphone into the recording booth where John waited with headphones on. He gave you a thumbs up, which you missed, searching for the button to play back the other accompaniment into his headphones. After a moment of fumbling, Earl pointed the button out to you, giving you a longsuffering smile as the music began to play back. The other band members quietly discussed the logistics of the song as you watched Earl gently adjust the sound levels every few moments. Sparing a glance to John through the glass, you get a little lost for a moment, watching his intense concentration as he worked his way through the song. He had an intensity about him, the utmost concentration that made you not want to look away. Finishing without a single note missed, he looks up to see you looking back at him, a little starry-eyed, and he grins back.

“Wow.” You breathe, before turning bright red, feeling someone over your shoulder.

“She thinks it’s great.” Freddie pressed down the button, speaking into the microphone by your shoulder. John chuckled fondly, a little flush.

“I- yeah, thank you.” After a beat, he recomposed himself. “And you guys?” His gaze finally moved from your face to look over the others, who were all looking at either you or John smugly. Freddie stepped back from the console, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile as he looked between you two.

“She’s right.” Roger called from the sofa, splayed across it, partially leaning against Brian. After a beat, John gave him a confused look, tapping at the headphones. “Oi, tell ‘im.” Roger urged you, and tentatively you pressed the microphone button, leaning in to it.

“They agree.” And you watch him let out a sigh of relief as he goes to put his bass on it’s stand, making room for Brian to step in and start with his section. When he comes back into the room, John makes a beeline for the sofa, only to find Roger’s laid himself across it horizontally, taking up as much room as he possibly could.

“Sorry, mate.” The drummer grins, clearly not sorry at all. Even Freddie, who usually didn’t go in for this sort of stuff, was using the armrests of the armchair he had draped himself in, giving the bass guitarist a knowing smile, and a sly look to where you were receiving a quiet lesson faders from Earl as Brian began making sure his guitar was in tune.

“You’re doing really good,” John muttered to you from where he leaned against the wall close to the sound desk. You’d just called to start the guitar track and he was keeping his eyes on his bandmate. Startled, you slid the headphones from your ears where you were listening to make sure Brian was hearing the same thing you were.

“What?” Voice quiet, you looked up at John, and he finally looked away from Brian, smiling fondly at you.

“The whole intern thing, you’re doing really well.” And the resulting smile you gave him made you glow with pride. You’d been so worried that it had seemed like you were stumbling through your tasks, because, well, at times you were, but even a slight affirmation had you thrilled. After a beat, you tried to school face into something more serious as you tried not to let the embarrassing crush on him that had developed over the past few weeks show. He was a musician and you were an intern, and it was just a little bit of a hero-crush, nothing to get too serious about. But he was smiling back at you, and it just made you feel warm; it didn’t have to be a bad thing if you didn’t let it.

Once the album is done, you still actually manage to see them around, at least for the first few weeks. You’d actually managed to score a job as an assistant from the internship, and they were in often discussing the plans of their tour. Every time they spotted you in the halls, the others would conveniently vanish the moment John asked how you’d been. It hurt a little, to think about how you wouldn’t see them, see him, for a few months, or perhaps even a year, but you thought perhaps it would be a good thing, letting your little crush die.

“I’ll really miss working with you.” But then he had to go and say that, smiling in that way that made everything seem alright, and he wrapped an arm around you in a hug. He’s not usually a tactile person, from what you’ve gathered, and it takes a moment for you to find your voice.

“I’ll miss,” the words get stuck in your throat a little, “working with you too.” He gives you a comforting squeezes, and you’re not sure what to do about the way your heart beats a little faster, so you let him leave. He hesitates for a moment, seems like he doesn’t want to go, or has something to say. You see something in his smile, maybe a little sadness, maybe something else you can’t quite place, and you both know it’ll be a while before you see each other again.

“Is Y/N going to be here?” John’s bopping slightly to the beat in his head as he watches Earl set up the sound equipment on the farm.

“She’ll be here tomorrow.” Earl doesn’t look up from his job while Roger yells at the same time, from the other room.

“No distractions!” And it’s accompanied by the thwap of Roger’s slipper hitting the glass of the window to the sound room, but he’s grinning at the bassist from where he’s sitting behind his drums. John refuses to read into that.

It’s been almost six months since you’d seen each other, and you’d jumped at the opportunity to join Earl and the boys a the farm, even if it is in the middle of nowhere, and you’d be sleeping on a sofa for a week. You arrived at the tail end of their stay, once the music was written, all that was left to do was record it.

He’s waiting out the front of the house, perched on the brick wall and eyeing off a large chicken who looked like it was ready to spook him, when Earl pulls up with you in the front seat.The noise of the van is enough to send the chicken scrambling in the other direction, but John waved at you, and there it was, that feeling in your chest that you’ve been trying to bury for six whole months practically leaping to life as you step out to hug him in greeting.

“Oi, Y/N, settle an argument for us.” When you walk into the kitchen in the morning, Brian is smiling despite the fact that he’s got bacon in his hair, Roger is hunched over eating the rest of the bacon, at least what wasn’t scattered on the floor, from the pan and refusing to share, and John was just smiling blithely into his coffee.

“What do you think of when you hear the phrase, ‘I’m in love with my car’.” John asked, not looking away from where Roger was glowering.

“Is it a nice car?” You asked, easily making your way around the kitchen to fix yourself breakfast, ignoring the way Roger perked up at the question.

“Like as a song, what do you think?” John’s smile as catty as you’ve ever seen it. When you ask what happened to the coffee pot as it lay on it’s side sink, John hands over his mug without hesitating, still waiting on your response.

“Well... is it a metaphor?” You asked, squinting between the three of them. After a beat, Roger slams the frypan on the table and throws his hands in the air.

“Yes, see she gets it!” And you’re pretty sure you’re on the wrong side of the table as John shakes his head.

“So you metaphorically are in love with your car?” You asked, rounding the bench to join John and Brian, who were now actively stifling laughter as Roger’s face fell. Resting against the bench by John, you’re close enough that he can lean his head against your shoulder in solidarity, taking back his coffee and having a pointed sip as your words set Roger off on another rant. If you lean into it a little, he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, you don’t see it, but his smile widens.

When you hear John banging on the door of the farmhouse after you’ve finished helping pack everything up and Earl’s already locked everyone else out of the sound room for the rest of the night, it’s a shock.

“Tell her!” You can hear Roger’s shout on the other side of the door as John knocks louder.

“You really should just tell her.” Unexpectedly, even Freddie seems to agree with the drummer, though John shouts that he’ll catch his death of cold if they don’t let him in soon.

“Be an adult, John!” Brian tries to placate the bassist from the other side of the door where they’ve all teamed up against him. “Just tell her.”

“Be an adult?!” John parrots back, just before you get to them.

“Tell me what?” That shut them all up quick, and even before he turns to face you, you can tell he’s bright red. “I mean, I’m the only ‘her’ for what feels like a few hundred kilometres.” Smiling with confusion, you look to the door, and then to John. Someone whispers ‘tell her’.

“I want to see you again.” John lets the words tumble out into the world, hands out and open in front of him in some sort of ‘ta-da’ gesture, before looking over his shoulder. “Can I come back inside now?” 

“What? No.” You can hear Roger’s baffled expression in his words, and it’s joined by a hum of agreement from Freddie.

“He’s right, Deaky, that was a terrible declaration of lov-” John’s pulling you away by the elbow before you could hear the rest of Freddie’s statement, though you got the general gist of it.

“You know what, maybe we’re better off out here.” He huffs, unable to look at you as he tugs you towards the wall.

“Slow down, slow down.” Once at the wall, you tug free from his grip and lean against it, watching him fidget. “You like me?” You asked, half smile forming on your lips.

“We’re not high schoolers, Y/N.” He tried dodging the question with a self-deprecating smile. Taking a step forward, you finally got him to look at you. “You know, it was weird, caring about you so much after only three months.” He admitted, studying your features with an intensity you had only seen him get around music, it made you feel like the only person in the world that mattered in that one moment. “It was weird, looking up on stage and not seeing you in the crowd.” He paused for a moment. “And I don’t want that to be our only interaction, just recording music together, I wanna take you take you to all the sights I got to see, but just... just because I want to see them with you.” When his gaze dropped, it felt as if the moment had passed, but you didn’t want to leave it just yet. Gently, you took his hand, and when his eyes met yours, you were smiling, a bit pink in the cheeks, but so obviously full of joy.

“I’d like that,” and after a beat, you moved in to press a kiss to his lips, soft and chaste. “I missed you... so much more than I thought I would.” You chuckled softly, moving back just a little. “I honestly thought you wouldn’t-”

“No, I did.” He looked away, a little embarrassed, and you could see the flush of his cheeks. “The, uh, the boys will attest to that.” He admitted, and that’s when you remembered, feeling the biting chill of the night air finally begin to hit you.

“Do you think they’ve unlocked the door?” You asked, looking over his shoulder. His expression fell as the two of you began to walk hand in hand back to the farmhouse.

“It doesn’t actually lock, they were just all leaning against it.”

[thotful-writing]

Obedience

Jacob Seed/F! Character

Description: She had been reluctantly taken into Jacob's training as a Hunter, she was strong, but needed to learn her place and obey commands. Jacob had tried everything, there was only one other way to teach her.

A/N: I don't write much Jacob stuff, but figured I'd give it a go.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, dom/sub undertones

Jacob paced the room, he wasn’t sure if he was angry or worried, he decided to go with both. He hadn’t heard from her in hours, he told her not to do anything but of course she was stubborn and constantly trying to prove herself. Suddenly the door opened, he stopped, his heart pounding as all of the worst scenarios ran through his mind. He was set at ease when he saw her walk in.

“I told you-I told you not to go, but you went anyways? You disobeyed a direct order.” He stalked towards her, anger seething through him.

“I-I was doing it for the Project, to help.”

“It was too dangerous to do alone and now I’m going to have to go and fix your mess.” He stopped a few inches away, glaring down at her.

“But-I did it. I secured the outpost.” She stepped back trying to get some distance from his obvious rage.

He blinked at her confused for a moment, how could she have secured the outpost on her own? With no backup?

“You did it? By yourself?”

“Yep. No problems or anything, Sir.” She gave him a weak smile, hoping he’d be grateful.

“You still went against my orders. You’ll have to pay for that.” 

She wasn’t fond of Jacob’s punishments, he was always so creative. She had been under his training for a few months now, she desperately wanted more with him, but knew her feelings weren’t reciprocated in any way. Jacob was all work and no play, completely closed off from any emotions or affection.

She shivered outside in the rain as she held the large rock over her head, her arms trembled, ready to give out if she let them.

“Why don’t you just put the rock down? Come inside where it’s warm?” He said as he paced around her.

“No, Sir.” She responded, keeping her gaze forward.

“Just put it down, it’ll be fine.” He continued to try and persuade her.

“N-No, Sir.” She shivered.

“Are you disobeying my orders?” He circled her like a predator circling his prey.

“N-No, Sir. You told me not to put this rock down until the sun came up. That’s what I’m going to do.” Her arms continued to shake. She’d sooner drop it on her head than put it down and disappoint him.

“Have it your way.” He said as he went back inside.

She could no longer feel her fingers, she was pretty sure they were now permanently attached to the rock. The rain let up a little, but she was soaked to her core, there was no way she’d get out of this without getting pneumonia. Jacob returned with a hot bowl of soup, he stood in front of her and got a spoonful, blowing it gently in front of her face. She instinctively licked her lips, she’d give anything for some food right now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you hungry?” He furrowed his brow as he looked at her.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” She didn’t look at the soup, she held her gaze to his.

“Come inside and get some food. There’s plenty.” He placed the spoon in his mouth and made the most ridiculously pleased face.

“N-No, Sir.”

“You sure? It’s delicious.” He took another bite.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” This was the only time in her life she ever denied food and it pained her to do so.

“Guess I’ll just give the rest to the Judges then.” He left her once more.

6 hours, 6 hours had passed, she only knew because she could see the sun peaking over the horizon, she continued to wait though, determined to hold out until Jacob gave her permission to come inside.

“Oh, you’re still out here?” Jacob stretched and yawned in front of her.

She nodded her head her body trembled, she no longer had the energy to speak and her mouth was pretty much frozen shut.

Jacob didn’t say anything, he grabbed the rock from her and dropped it to the ground. Her arms immediately fell to her sides, they felt like cooked noodles. She moved to step out of the mud, but her legs gave out and she fell to the ground. Who knew standing in the same position for 6+ hours would cause your legs to become stiff and buckle the second you tried to move? She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, took a deep breath and tried to stand back up, but it was no use, she fell back down to the ground.

Jacob sighed as he watched her feeble attempts. He was initially reluctant to take her on as a Hunter, but she persevered through his training and had proven herself worthy, she still had a stubborn streak that needed to be broken though. He rolled his eyes before he leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

“S-Sir?” She looked at him surprised.

“Jesus, you’re freezing.” He said as she shook in his arms.

He carried her inside and passed the shared quarters for the Hunters, he continued walking down the corridor to his quarters, she’d glanced inside but had never fully been in it before. He placed her in his bed and covered her with the thickest fleece comforter. He left for a moment before returning with two more blankets, piling them on her. She continued to shake under the warmth, but the feeling was coming back into her extremities slowly. Jacob stood over her as she shivered, her lips almost blue, he knew she needed more heat. He kicked his shoes off and pulled the covers back, lying down beside her and covering them both back up. He pulled her close to his chest.

“S-Sir, you don’t have-“

“Shut up. Your body temperature is too low. Why did you stand out there so long?” He scolded her.

“B-Because you t-told me to, Sir.”

“If you had followed my orders that closely before then you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Although it was a bit awkward, she actually enjoyed her current situation, not the freezing to death part, but the being in bed close to Jacob part. His body heat was helping warm her up quicker though, she had stopped shivering as she laid next to him. Jacob tried his hardest to remain completely unfazed by her closeness, he couldn’t deny he’d desired her for a while now, especially in watching her strength and determination increase over the months. Now, as she lay so close to him, he wasn’t sure how much resolve he had to resist her, one glance wouldn’t hurt, would it? He looked down to see her asleep against his chest, breathing softly. He brushed a piece of hair off her face, he panicked slightly when she stirred, but relaxed when she continued to sleep.

She stretched across the bed to find Jacob had left her, she wondered how long he stayed with her? Her arms were still sore and weak as she left the bed, she wanted to seek him out, to thank him, but she decided to return to her quarters instead.

“Heard you got quite the punishment yesterday.” One of the other Hunters commented as she entered the room.

“Lasted longer than you did though, how long did you stay out there before you’d pissed yourself?” She smiled smugly.

“You’re right, I didn’t last long out there. Maybe if I had then Jacob would have shared his bed with me too. But I guess we can’t all spread our legs for special treatment.”

She wanted to lash out, but she refrained, she knew Jacob wouldn’t be happy if she started killing off his Hunters. She ignored the comment and gathered her clothes to go take a shower. She let the hot water warm her still semi-frozen bones, her fingers and toes still felt somewhat numb. When she returned to the shared room the man was still there, he glanced up at her, but she ignored him. Before she knew what was happening, he was behind her, pressing her against the concrete wall.

“Just want a taste of what Jacob gets.” He said into her ear as his hands travelled down her body.

She would have screamed but it wouldn’t have done any good, Jacob would have come to save her, but it would’ve only made things worse for her. She let him get distracted by her compliance, he let his guard down for a moment, she threw her elbow back into his face as hard as she could. He yelled out in pain as he stepped back from her, holding his nose.

“Touch me again and I’ll slit your fucking throat while you sleep.” She turned around to face him.

He was about to say something, but Jacob entered the room, “What’s going on here?” He crossed his arms as he glanced between the two of them.

“Nothing, Sir.” She feigned innocence.

“The blood pouring from his nose tells me it’s more than ‘nothing’. What happened?” He looked at the man.

“I-I tripped.” He said as he continued holding his nose.

“Is that so? Maybe you need more agility training then, clean yourself up and meet me outside in 10.”

The man left, glancing back at her, she held her gaze on Jacob. She didn’t want to tell him what had almost happened, she was worried he’d see her as weak.

“There something else I need to know?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head. He looked at her for another moment before leaving the room, he was certain he knew what had happened and he didn’t plan on taking it easy on the guy.

“Jacob? Hello? Anyone?” A voice rang over the radio, she looked over at it, Jacob was still outside.

“Yes?” She pressed the button and answered, knowing she should’ve just gone to get Jacob.

“We need help! We’re under attack here at the Elk Jaw Lodge, by the Resistance, there’s too many of them. Send help!”

She stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. She knew she could get there quickly and help, as well as prove herself to Jacob, but he was so furious when she’d done the same thing the other day. She made her decision, she grabbed her guns and headed out. There were a lot more Resistance members than there should have been, by the time she got there it was almost too late, there were only a few followers left. She ran in, guns blazing, taking out anyone and everyone she saw. Her adrenaline was pumping so fast she didn’t realize when she got nicked by a bullet as it tore through the skin on her arm. When it was all over, she had either killed all the Resistance members or they had run away. She helped the remaining followers get patched up until reinforcements could come. She decided it was best if she headed back to the VA Center, hoping Jacob had heard about her success.

She walked in the door, half expecting to see Jacob waiting for her again, but he wasn’t there. She walked down the corridor further until she reached his quarters, she peaked inside but didn’t see him. Suddenly she felt someone grab her arm and turn her around.

“Looking for someone?” Jacob asked as his eyes bore into her.

“N-No, Sir.” She tried to pull free of his grasp, but he held firm.

“Heard you were down at Elk Jaw Lodge.”

“Yes, Sir. They needed help so I-“

“So, you disobeyed a direct order, again, and went to play hero?” He clenched his jaw as he glared down at her.

“Sir, I-“

“What’s it going to take to break you, hm? To get through to you that you don’t call the shots around here?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She stared up at him, genuinely worried about what he would do. She didn’t think helping would be such a bad thing, but she did go against him, and she had made a habit of it recently. Jacob held her arm as he pushed her into his room, slamming the door closed behind him. She trembled slightly as she stood in front of him, not knowing what he was going to do to her. He grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her hair back, forcing her to look at him.

“You’re going to learn how to obey commands.” Before she could register what was happening his lips crashed into hers, kissing her forcefully.

He shoved his tongue into her mouth, she welcomed the intrusion and swirled her tongue around his. She fought for dominance in the kiss but was quickly reminded of her place by a hard pull on her hair and a sharp bite on her bottom lip. He pulled away from her abruptly, leaving her breathless and wanting.

“Clothes.” He commanded.

She didn’t need to be told twice, she quickly rid herself of her shirt and unbuttoned her pants. She paused momentarily when he grabbed her arm, looking over the wound she had, bringing her attention to it as well. He let out a heavy sigh at the sight, but knew it wasn’t anything life threatening, deciding to leave it for later. She returned to her task and removed her pants, remaining only in her panties in front of him.

“Still don’t listen.” He said as he grabbed the waistband of her panties and pulled them until she heard the fabric stretching and then ripping apart.

She shifted her legs, feeling her wetness already soaking her thighs and he hadn’t even touched her yet. He tossed her underwear to the floor with her other clothes and circled her, just as he had done before, like he was a predator and she was his prey. She jumped when his hand landed hard on her bare ass, sending shivers over her body at the contact. He moved forward, pressing his body against her back, she could feel his hardness on her ass, she instinctively reached back to palm him through his pants. He let her for a moment before giving her another smack on her ass. She pulled her hand away from him immediately. He remained there, his hands on her shoulders pulling her back against him, he loved the feeling of her body on his. He trailed kisses down the side of her neck, biting into the flesh on her shoulder. She moaned instinctively and reached back for him again, needing to touch him. The second her hand touched him he spanked her again, harder this time. She withdrew her hand once more.

“Desk.” One word was all she needed, she walked over to his desk and bent over it, waiting.

He remained where he was, admiring her from afar as she waited for him. How he wanted to take her now, on every surface in the room, but she needed to learn her place first. He didn’t move for several minutes, she began to wonder what the hold up was, she turned her head to look at him.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

“No, Sir.” She turned her head forward.

He moved closer, his fingers tracing down her spine lightly, she felt goosebumps form across her skin as his fingers moved down further, barely touching her ass. She pushed back into his hand, hoping to coax him into touching her more, the only thing it earned her was another hard smack on the ass, adding to the already reddened skin.

“Patience.” He growled.

He knelt behind her, bringing his face directly to her center. He smirked at how wet she was already, completely soaked. His hand started down at her ankle, lightly moving up her leg, to her thigh. He spread her open wider, but never touched her where she wanted it most. She whined after a few minutes, shifting her legs. It was taking all his will power not to fuck her over this desk right this instance, but he held back. He leaned forward and pressed his tongue flat against her, starting at her clit and licking up to her entrance, tasting her. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, finally being touched where she needed it. He pushed one finger into her opening, feeling how tight she was.

“This is going to hurt.” He said as he withdrew his finger and stood up behind her.

She furrowed her brow for a moment, what exactly was he talking about? It didn’t take her long to figure it out after he’d unzipped his pants and pressed his tip at her entrance, pushing into her completely without warning her first.

“Wait, fuck…” She squirmed, trying to adjust to his size as he stretched her out, but he grabbed her hips and held her still, not letting her move.

He pulled out almost completely before sliding back in, at this point she was glad she had gotten so wet before he’d done this, if not it would have been a lot more painful. She tried to control the pace by moving further up the desk, but he caught onto her quick and grabbed the wound on her arm, causing her to yell and stop all movements.

“Please, Sir…” She begged as he tightened his grip on her, still thrusting in and out of her slowly.

“Begging is another way of trying to control a situation.” He laughed at her attempt.

He released her arm and gripped her hips once more, thrusting harder into her, causing her to lurch forward on the desk. She was finally getting adjusted to him and moaned each time he dragged against her walls as he pulled out. His pace had increased as did the pressure in which his fingers were digging into her hips. He groaned as he pounded into her, reveling in her tightness, the way she writhed beneath him and under his grasp. She began to tighten around him as she felt her imminent release approaching.

“No.” He said as he slowed his pace back down, bringing her back from the brink.

She panted and wanted to argue, but knew it was no use, he would just continue to drag this out if she did. She remained silent as he started moving faster again. He smiled at her obedience, she was learning quickly, even if she wanted to complain, she wouldn’t. He slowed his pace again, but thrusted deeper inside her, hitting that perfect spot that made her knees weak. She moaned loudly each time he hit it, he knew she was getting close again, as was he. He thrust into her harder and faster again, the desk banging into the wall, if no one had heard it before they definitely did now. She whimpered at each thrust and felt herself tighten around him again.

“S-Sir?” She asked, he knew what she wanted.

“Alright, Darlin’” He said through gritted teeth.

A few more thrusts and she came undone beneath him, her body shuddered her orgasm hit her. Her walls clenching around him pushed him towards his own release, he had no plans of pulling out of her either. He remained inside her, making sure she got every ounce of his cum. They both began to come back down, he finally pulled out of her, she remained on the desk, unable to move.

“You belong to me now.” He leaned down and spoke into her ear, placing a kiss on her shoulder as she lay there.

[btsvt-adventures]

Good Boys gone Bad

A/N: Welp here is the bad boy AU I’ve been wanting to write for ages ahahahahaha. I have no solid plan, as usual LOL, but yeah let’s just see where this goes.

Warnings: Coarse language, teasing, nothing too sexual (yet)

Pairing: Jikook (Jimin x Jungkook)

Jungkook’s seated in the cafe, glancing around, taking in the familiarity of the cafe he’s worked in for the last three years. It feels so comfortable, so at home, but at the same time, kinda strange to be on the other side of the cashier.

He looks up instinctively when the bell jingles, half expecting Hoseok to waltz in, bright, sunny smile on his face. Instead, he spots a head of cotton candy coloured hair stroll in, leisurely looking around for a seat.

His gaze catches Jungkook’s, and he’s caught, entranced by the pretty boy’s intense gaze, light blue contact lenses framed with subtly smoky makeup.

He shoots Jungkook a knowing smirk, winking as he walks past the table, sliding into a booth two tables away from his.

Who is that?

Jungkook tries his damnedest to ignore him, but his gaze keeps finding the baby pink mop of hair. The boy is bent over his phone, texting, or maybe playing a game, hand running through his pastel locks, tousling it even more.

Jungkook’s jolted out of his stalker-ish staring when he’s suddenly engulfed in a soul-crushing bear hug. 

“Nice to finally see you, my-I’m-so-famous now hyung,” he laughs breathlessly, wincing when Hoseok lets him down..

“Ha Ha Kook, very funny,” he rolls his eyes, ruffling his hair fondly. Jungkook resists the urge to pout when Hoseok sits right in front of him, effectively blocking his view of the cotton candy boy.  “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been the same, still working and all that,” he answers absently. “I mean, I’m in senior year now, so I haven’t really had time for anything other than school.”

Hoseok had taken Jungkook under his wing when he’d shown up for dance auditions in freshman, nervous and clumsy. He was the one of the best hip hop dancers in the school’s dance club, and Jungkook still can’t believe his luck sometimes.

“You should still practice, you know your isolations aren’t the best,” Hoseok nags, and Jungkook groans, throwing a paper napkin at him.

He opens his mouth to retort when the bell jingles, and Hoseok’s face changes into something darker, angrier almost.

“Hyung...?” Jungkook asks uncertainly, shifting in his seat. Hoseok was always bright and sunny, but the few times Jungkook had seen him upset was more than enough to assure him that his favourite sunshine hyung was terrifying when he was angry.

Reluctantly, he followed his gaze, stopping on two impossibly handsome boys walking into the cafe.

“Damn it, I was sure this was too far out for him,” he grumbles, looking around for something (or someone?), glaring at the cotton candy haired boy when the other two sat down with him.

“Who is he anyway?” Jungkook asks weakly, but it dies in his throat when his eyes lock with the pretty pastel haired boy.

He grins at Jungkook, cocky smirk gracing his handsome face as he runs his hand through his soft, baby pink hair. Jungkook can feel Hoseok’s eyes boring into him, staring in disbelief.

“You know him?” he whispers, turning back to shoot a glare at him, before resolutely turning away.

Jungkook shakes his head furiously. He didn’t know him, but he was curious as to who he was. Hoseok scoffs, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Stay away from him,” Hoseok warns loudly, turning back and staring him down. “Jimin’s nothing but a manwhore,” he sneers. The pink haired boy – Jimin – simply laughs, winking at him before turning back to his friends.

“I can look after myself, y’know?” Jungkook laughs nervously, patting Hoseok’s arm in a weak attempt at reassurance. “I can handle a ‘bad boy’ like him.”

Hoseok huffs, standing up to order his coffee. Jungkook waves him away, still distracted by the pretty boy staring at him intently.

The second Hoseok’s out of range, Jimin walks over, smirking as he slides into the seat across him.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to like me,” he muses, head tilting curiously as he regards Jungkook.

Hyung and I? Ridiculous.

“He’s just my friend, and he thinks you’re bad news,” Jungkook answers, lips curling into a smirk.

Jungkook has a weakness for bad boys, and everyone around him knows it. He likes flirting with someone dangerous, and Jimin fit his type like a glove. It’s exciting, and sort of flattering that he’s paying attention to someone like him.

“How do you know I’m not?” he drawls, hint of Busan satoori leaking into his melodic voice.

Jungkook shrugs, eyes drifting over to Jimin’s other two friends. “I don’t,” Jungkook answers in satoori, watching smugly as Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise. “But you’re interesting.”

Jimin laughs, and he suddenly doesn’t look like the bad boy everyone says he is. He just looks like a regular, (ridiculously sexy) teenager, spending time with his friends in a cute little café.

“Come sit with us, we’ve got more interesting stories,” he singsongs.

Should I?

Please like and reblog <3 Leave comments too!

If you’d like more of this AU, or your own lil thing, of if you just wanna yell at me, you can do so here~

[maireep]

Still Breathing

More than Alive: 

VLD zombie apocalypse au by @maireep​ and @somethingmorecreative1​

Part 1 / Part 2

keith and lance band together, as the only two mildly sane people they’ve met so far and slowly create a strong bond that leaves all of their plans with loose ends as they try to survive and thrive together.

pairing: klance rating: unrated

iii. 

Lance was starting to regret staying.

Keith was socially awkward, quiet, and argumentative. He was too stubborn, too thick-headed, didn’t get jokes and was solely focused on necessity - like surviving. He got it! He really did! He wanted to hunt too, and rest and find fresh water but hell, it would’ve been better without having to ride a solid three hours on his sore unaccustomed ass because his cowboy partner wanted to cover more ground. Even Artax, easily , was on Keith’s side - simply adoring all the riding to combat her nearly endless supply of energy. Keith would call her a “colt” almost adoringly, but Lance was more than a little bitter about it.

He wasn’t regretting staying for conventional reasons.

Mostly, it was because Keith was too much. He was too easy to joke with, too easy to make fun of, too easy to stare at. Lance had too many instances where he had caught himself staring at Keith’s lips and idly thinking of how long ago he had last been kissed. But on the other hand, Keith was too much. He was solemn, static and hard to read. Every time Lance began to clue in on his behavior, there’d be another shift that would throw their already rocky friendship spiraling off some cliff. It was like he was locking Lance out.

He had barely known the guy for a week, but it was already starting to bother him. They had agreed to circle up back north, after Keith had saved him from that creepy prowler. There had been little in his life that had scared him worse than the undead that sprawled the country, but that man had been something else entirely. If Keith hadn’t been there…

Lance shivered, and was glad he could blame it on the cold air.

They had returned to the cabin after more supply runs into the small expansions of towns and farms dotting off of Route 1. Artax grazed on patches of green a few feet from the clearing. Between the trees, he could see Keith stack wood bundles on the porch before moving the sealed off door to carry them inside.Lance  shrugged his jacket completely off, placing it by his shoes. To keep up against the roaming hoards, they took turns between work and keeping watch during the days. He almost wished for the comfy warm seat of the semi instead of the laid out bedrolls on the cabin floor as he stepped out of his ripped jeans and bundled it along with his discarded shirt.

The rocks were slippery when he stepped into the river, feeling fish jolt past his calves as he waded further into the water. Sure his skin crawled with the slimy scales against his legs, but the cool slow-moving water felt heavenly against his sticky skin.

The ride had been particularly stifling during the afternoon, and the humidity rose still as the evening turned from bronze to dark. Keith had been half-teaching him, half-smugly commenting him on his riding, especially when he had handed Lance Artax’s lead and took off to check the perimeter of clearings they had came upon. Lance hadn’t really been the best rider on his father’s ranch, on their dopey old Phillip. He had been squat and slow, and Artax was like a living Maserati. He didn’t want to ask Keith, for fear of that devilishly handsome smirk, but Artax was clearly a Thoroughbred - miles upon miles away from the stable pony his father kept.

He hunkered down into the water, cupping it up to his shoulders and running his cool hands through the back of his neck and jaw. The entire length of his body ached from the day and his breach into relaxation stalled, feeling the slick of the water against his stomach and catch on hairs he would’ve otherwise razored away the second they had appeared. He wondered if it was too late to wiggle out of the stream and grab his travel razor and some body wash from his pack without flashing Keith on the way.

Grumbling, he sank further into the water until he submerged his head. The soft rush of water against his cheeks felt like the creek down the acre of the ranch, past the small swing his father had hung for his mother and just around the clearing they had made in his elementary years for an ecosystem project. Just like the creek, the slime of scales rolled against his ankle and he breached the water, sputtering. Water ran down his face, pushing his hair, the longest it had been in a while, into his face. He swiped it back and turned back to the rocky bank. Making sure to shake his hand off, he searched through the pockets of his jacket before grasping onto his iPhone. He placed it on the biggest boulder, in the sunlight before shuffling his downloaded music.

Bebe Rexha echoed against the crevices of the rock, with soft piano and the twang of guitars to support the soft lyrics. For all the couple thousand songs downloaded to the sturdy phone, he hadn’t listened to this particular song in a while. It was one of his more odd choices, the kind that would’ve made his roommate Nyma wrinkle her nose when he placed his phone on the iPhone dock. She was always critical about his music, something about his utter lack for appreciation of trap music. Hed always reply with scathingly mainstreamed trap songs that he liked, just to make her nose wrinkle in distaste. He sunk into the water, letting it raise around his ears. He missed her. He missed their shitty RA, he missed the kid in his Earth Science class who smelled of weed or the barista at the corner café who spelled his name wrong consistently. He missed whatever horrid person dropped gum on his hair at the club, he missed his hideous husk of a Psychology professor and her shit grading curves and more importantly he missed Hunk. He missed Hunk and he missed his family.

Footfalls and then a plop. He turned to see Keith sit on the boulder a bit away, leaning over to tug off his camel boots without even untying the red laces. He hid his face momentarily to blink before Keith spoke up.

“Is this Florida Georgia Line?”

Lance looked up, eyebrows knit, “What?” Keith looked up from his boots, blinking, “This song. Florida Georgia Line? I could recognize Kelley and Hubbard in my sleep.”

“Uh…” Lance turned to his phone, squinting at the screen, “I guess so? It’s by Bebe Rexha, just featuring them.” The tops of his cheekbones felt numb, the corners of his mouth peaking gently. Keith was utterly a cowboy, even so much as recognizing country singers in some dance pop love song.

Keith hummed but said nothing else, stacking his boots beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance watched as Keith tugged his plaid shirt over his head. He wore a worn blank tank underneath, highlighting the swell of biceps and the stark line where his tan skin met contrasting pale white. Lance could’ve drown himself, just slip backwards into the flow of the stream and let it carry his otherwise naked body to the depths. Instead he sunk down, engulfing himself in the water and trying to shake the idea of Keith’s fuckin’ farmers’ tan out of his head. It didn’t help his starved body deemed it woefully attractive.

Later, when Keith had retreated back to camp to cook whatever harvest he had caught for them that evening, Lance dried off and redressed. The heat was subsiding, and he had first shift on watch duty, picking the last meat off his skewer and watching Artax doze in her patch of grass. Keith sat on the ground, turned in with his Stetson covering his face. They hadn’t spoken too much since nights ago, when Lance had killed his first man and they had inexplicably tied themselves to one another. Every time Lance tried, Keith would shuffle away after a few comments.

He was getting used to it.

Lance stood up, careful to not trip over Keith’s legs as he stepped outside and gradually led Artax to the small porch. She whinnied softly, and mouthed at his hair with her lips as he tied her lead to the cabin. She settled in immediately, but snorted almost unhappily when he turned away.

“Alright girl.” He smiled, rolling his eyes as he went back to her. Quietly he placed his palms onto the banister of the cabin and hauled himself onto it. The wood banister was rough, leaving him to wiggle for a better position as he leaned against Artax’s flank. She tossed her mane, the long blank tendrils smacking his face and catching in his mouth.

“Bleh!” He spat out, “Artax!”

She whinnied back, practically in the same tone. Her hair had dragged his chapstick from his lips to his chin, and he pawed at his chin with his jacket sleeve. The taste of hair and grass was in his mouth and he frowned.

“Aw hun,” He cooed, reaching back to comb his fingers through her hair, “I never feel the same when my hair is dirty too. Lemme get those tangles for you.”

Slowly he picked at Artax’s hair, leaning against her flank and methodically plaiting her mane in tiny braids. Lance wasn’t sure if it was what she was looking for, but she didn’t complain, and he was glad for it. She slowly dozed, and it reminded him so much of braiding his mother’s or sisters’ hair, he started to relax too.

In the distance, there were howls, groans and rustling. A hundred feet shuffled onward, the sound reverberating for miles around in the silent dark. The night came and went before he even slept a wink, listening to the echoes braced against Artax. He didn’t think Keith slept either.

He knew what Keith was going to say even before he said it.

They’d be together for a week and a half when Keith looked to him with those imploring eyes. Lance agreed, he already knew he agreed. Their rations were dwindling, their fresh water was low and the cars on the interstate near them were picked dry by either them or prowlers.

They had to go into D.C. The towns were running dry, and farmsteads were entirely encompassed by the moving hordes of rotters. It was almost migrational, like packs of birds flying north for the winter. Lance had begun to vaguely wonder if there was a pattern to it, as summer was starting to tighten its grip.

He sat on the porch of the cabin, with the rough wood sticking through his jeans as Keith suited Artax up with their bedrolls and his packs. Lance had tucked away his iPhone before anything else. On top of the food and water they needed, he needed a new battery for his solar charger, maybe a new razor and some deodorant. He was a young man sure, and it was the apocalypse yes, but hell he still wanted to smell good. He couldn’t have it like Keith, who happened to smell like a woodsy musky Old Spice expo, even if he was covered in blood and guts and rotting flesh.

He rubbed his forehead and looked up at Keith as he approached.

“Ready?” Keith tipped his Stetson back, framing out the sun and looking down at him in the shade. His black hair was stuck to his forehead from the heat, and his earrings gleamed in the afternoon light.

Absentmindedly, Lance rolled his thumb and forefinger over one of his own earrings and stood. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Keith snorted, and hauled himself onto Artax. Lance followed, less gracefully and more or less fumbling on Keith’s shoulders to keep himself upright as he sat in the saddle behind him. The inner muscles of his thighs were beginning to steel up, but still ached furiously from their rides - as if he had just twerked in a club for 48 hours or did hot pilates with Nyma again. He shuffled forward, pressing his hips to Keith’s behind but keeping space between his chest and Keith’s back.

Keith stirred Artax out of the clearing, toward the overpass onto the freeway. They cleared the line of trees quickly as Artax broke into a trot, climbing the slope up the shoulder of the road onto the concrete. The sun stood fiery in the sky, mid east and glaring onto the back of his neck like it was angry at him for skipping on his face routine or something. He melted backward, making even more space between his body and Keith’s.

“It’s hot.” He complained, placing his palms on Artax’s haunches to keep him upright.

He could practically feel Keith roll his eyes, “You haven’t been to Texas then.”

Lance pouted, sliding his gaze to the side as they rode on. He rolled his sleeves over his forearms, glad he stuffed his jacket into his pack earlier. His guitar case was annoyingly sticking against his back. “I don’t think I’d ever want to be.”

And the most odd thing happened.

Keith laughed. It was low, but more than an chuckle. His shoulders shook, the Stetson tilting back as the musical low laughter came from him. Lance stared.

“Ain’t that right,” Keith snorted, “Shit’s a hellhole.”

Lance leaned in, “Yeah? I feel like you’d be the type to have some state pride.”

Keith’s hat moved with the shake of his head. He kicked Artax onward, weaving her between forgotten cars Lance had practically memorized the position of by now. “I feel like you get to have pride in your state if it has pride in you. Sure I grew up wrangling Mustangs but a gay son of a disgraced alcoholic G.I. and an absent mother ain’t really Texas-pride.”

This time the odd thing was all on him. He openly choked on his own spit, going rigid behind Keith on Artax. His stomach had simultaneously turned into jelly and erupted into fire. Lance was an idiot. Was his gay radar that wrong? That obtuse? Here he was thinking this cowboy was easily the straightest person he’d ever met, maybe just some Southern kid who thought pierced earrings were more of a modern thing instead of what they really thought, and -

He wanted to slap his forehead. Yeah they were partners now, each others’ family at this point but just because Keith was gay didn’t mean he had a chance. Lance pulled at his collar, choked some semblance of a hum and let the conversation fall.

Gradually they left the interstate behind for inner towns. The lines of suburbs were desolate, ravaged by fire and panic. Houses stood half-burned through or bolted up with boards and nails. Through the back suburbs, they trotted slowly around to the city center. Among the middle was a square town park, with gazebo, in front of the City Hall. Walkers milled around in scattered groups, and with no sign of runners or their crawling counterparts, they quietly took the sidewalk around the perimeter due North.

Lance watched a small girl in a tattered t-shirt bump into the General Store door repeatedly, sickness rolling in a coil in his stomach.

He turned away as they passed on, keeping his eyes down to the saddle.

By the next town, the walkers were thicker. They had to utterly pass the town completely, giving it a wide berth. The inner city was crawling with bodies, swarmed with hordes and clumps of runners like little pesky flies. Flies that could kill you in instants. Keith said nothing but Lance could feel the tension in his back, as Artax cantered nervously until Keith tugged her around. They kept silent, and Lance pulled out his handgun to load rounds into it.

After the inner city had passed, there were only throughs of walkers along the roads. Instead of engaging, they rode hard and fast past them into the suburbs. Artax was fast enough to barely alerting the walkers until they were long gone. In that moment, he was glad to have stayed with Keith and Artax. If he was alone, he would’ve surely been downed in the inner city and… God knows what.

The suburbs for this town were spaced out, with lawns that sprawled in small hills and lined with bushes. A few walkers milled in the treeline behind the houses, groaning endlessly like a constant hum. Lance kept the safety on on his handgun but settled it in his lap between their bodies.

At the end of the block, Artax stopped.

Keith grunted, kicking his heel lightly, “Artax?”

A line of panic rolled up his spine, and he grabbed onto the back of Keith’s plaid shirt with one hand, the thumb of his other hand pressed hard on the safety of the gun.

“What is it?” Lance croaked, pushing closer to Keith subconsciously.

Keith stilled, frozen like Artax as she raised her head, ears pricked to the house at the end of the block.

Finally Keith spoke, ruff and low, but enough to set the hair on the back of his neck on end, “There’s someone in the window.”

[adamdriverstories-blog]

Hot for Teacher - Chapter 1

'WELCOME TO NEWBURY COLLEGE! WHERE YOUR DREAMS ARE MADE INTO CAREERS AND YOUR ACADEMICAL GOALS ARE MET!' - Read the banner over the main entrance.

Lana signed up for classes in - Art, Music, Science, Drama, Math and English.

First class today was Math. The teacher was Mrs. Cunningham. She was a lady in maybe her 50s. Short and Polite.

Second Class was English Studies with Professor Miller.

Professor Miller...Lana scoffs at his name. He sounds like a old man she thought. She envisoned a moody old man with a walking stick, a vast collection of dull cardigans and baggy trousers. A full closet of Dullness.

Lana found herself lost, she was in the correct department for English but 3 different classes with 3 different teachers and all the doors were plain with no signs.

"Excuse me, do you know which of these rooms is Professor Miller's English Class please?"  she asks a janitor mopping up water from a leak in the roof. "Yes ma'am, It's the door with the Black door handle just behind you' He says pointing and she thanks him. She turns and runs towards the door he pointed at and tries to sneak in without being noticed by the professor for being late. Too late. She turns slowly and awkwardly when she hears a voice "You're Late!" with a hint of annoyance and when she turns fully around to face the class, everybody is looking at her confused but amused.

Professor Miller is looking down at his desk writing something and he looks up to look in the large mirror at the back of the room for a split second to look at Lana. "Are you the new girl? because i don't think i've seen you in this class before!" He says. "Yes. It's my first day today" She replies. He drops his pen and turns to her and asks her to introduce herself to the class. He found himself oddly intrigued too.

"Hi, I'm Lana Simons. I'm 20 and i joined this college to further my already learned skills from school and because i missed school near the end due to pageants i wanted to pursue a real career" She says nervously.

*Professor Miller's POV*

Looking down at the previous day's students work that you didn't get chance to mark up the night before, you hear the door squeak open and notice somebody try to sneak in to class. "You're Late" You say, with a annoyed tone as you continue what you were doing before you heard the sneaky student. "Are you the new girl? Because i don't think i've seen you in my classes before!" I say, even though i haven't even really looked at her. She replies just as im about finished "Yes. It's my first day today". I throw my pen down, put my foot up on my desk and lean back in my chair as i turn to her after i asked her to introduce herself to the class. I still don't see her properly but i find myself looking her up and down. *Damn it Adam, What the hell is wrong with you! You can't look at your students that way!* He thought and sighs to himself.

*No POV*

After Lana introduced herself to everyone, her professor asks her to go and take a seat. she takes a seat in the chair directly in front of his desk, puts her bag under the chair and hears girls snickering and one shouts "Did you say you skipped school for Pageants? What kind of Pageants? Are you like a beauty queen or was one because i don't think your all that pretty!" They laugh, asking Lana. She replies "I did Miss Teen USA when i was 17, I had Pageants to qualify for that and represent my home state of Florida so i had to travel for that so i missed a lot of school then but i still qualified in everything i wanted to...so yeah!" she pauses "and erm, whatever 'your name' is. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me out of your pathetic attempts of bullying cause its certainly not gonna work on me. I might be a Miss Teen Winner 3 years ago, but that doesnt mean that i don't know how to kick somebodys ass!" She smiles towards them smugly and gets a pen and book from her bag. Professor Miller is back to writing something down but smirks to himself at Lana's comment to those girls and looks up at her briefly. He wanted to see her face. Lana catches the Professor looking at her, he finds himself embarassed that he got caught looking and looks down for a second but looks back up again to see her smiling at him slightly and he sighs. He thought she was unbelievably gorgeous but he had to shake that off because she is his student and he could get into trouble for thinking things like that about somebody he will be teaching.

Lana's POV

**First day and ive already got girls making sly comments and gossiping about me! I shouldnt have mentioned those damn pageants. The only seat available was directly in front of the Professors desk. I take out my notebook and pen ready for what we are studying today. I just happened to glance up and the Professor was looking at me. My cheeks started to flush, I dont even know why. He's got such a intense stare, it makes you feel uncomfortable but still i find myself blushing. He stands and talks to the class.

"In the coming months we will be working on some gothic stories coming upto halloween - Dracula, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Frankenstein...You get it! First story we will be working on is The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Does anybody know the story? Anybody read the novel?" The room stays silent. "Is that the story with the man and a monster?" someone speaks up. Everyone laughs. "No, thats not correct. Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde focuses on John Utterson, a lawyer and friend of Dr. Jekyll. The novel begins with John Utterson talking with his other friend, who has just witnessed an odd situation. A man identified as Edward Hyde ran over a girl, only to pay off her family later with a check from Dr. Jekyll. It's a very interesting story. I will have you all read the entire novel and you will have assigned chapters to read out to the class and there will be questions in between so be prepared for those!" says Professor Lewis. He turns to write on the whiteboard the title of the story and who will be reading what chapter. I find myself looking him up and down. He's not what i expected. He's way younger than i thought hed be. Hes probably not even 30. Tall, Shoulder length wavy black hair, Broad shoulders,  Intense brown eyes, Very serious, He's hot!!!! My professor is hot!!!! Help me!!! "Miss Simons, you will get chapter 6" He turned to look at me, catching me looking at his butt!! Oh lord swallow me whole pleaseeeeeeee!!! He smirked a little i just grinned at him like an idiot. He's going to think im a pervert and a freak.

****AFTER CLASS****

"Excuse me, Miss Simons" Professor Miller shouts me as im walking towards the exit still embarassed about earlier. Oh no! Is he going to shout at me for earlier. I walked towards his desk where he is sat at. "As you started my class late in the usual semester, you have missed out on a lot from the previous 6 months. if you have any chance at passing this class or any class in this college then you'll have to do a lot of extra work. Are you willing to do that Miss Simons. Now i could get into trouble for offering these as this college doesnt allow that sort of thing but im willing to give you extra classes until you catch up in my English Class. I can do from 4-7. Is that suitable for you?"  He says. Phew! He didnt mention me staring at his butt. "Erm thank you. Yes that would be great. Thank you so much! Ill catch up in no time" I say. "No problem. Im taking time out of my personal life to do this so please dont let me down and i expect you to be here on time everyday." he says and I nod "Yes ill be here. I promise. Thanks again" I smiled. He smiles at me. Omg his smile is killer. He should smile more often "No problem. We'll start them from tommorow night as i have things on tonight. Dont be late to class tommorow either please" He replies and I nod again like a idiot "Yeah. Bye Professor"

**Professor. Lewis POV**

After my class, i pulled the new girl to one side. What was her name again. Ah yes! Lana Simons. I offered her extra lessons. i could get into trouble for that but it was a way to help her catch up and selfishly i wanted to spend some one on one time with her. I cant help it. I have Olivia but she has already cheated on me once already. I just know someday she will do it again. I just know it! When she does, i wont give her another chance even though i love her.

TBC.....