#i drive home and expect to see him at the window y'know?

[unironicallycringe]

Idk if I mentioned it before, but one of the Hashtag Themes™️ I want to embed into TMM is the spirit of the saying "the only way out is through", and uhhhh BIG EMOTIONAL EXHALE CAUSE DAMN I'M GETTING A REMINDER THAT IT SURE IS TRUE

For real though, been thinking of that quote for the past few days again. Grief makes you want to squirm out of your skin and escape to a place where your reality isn't true. But that is impossible, and you have to walk with your grief and feel all the heartache instead in order to fully heal from it.

[houseofperfecttaste]

Even

The second Rafe saw John B climbing out of Sarah's window around midnight he felt bad for you knowing you were in love with John B and here he was cheating on you with his sister. To make matters even worse you were the Camerons' housekeeper. Rafe snapped a quick picture of JB on the roof before heading inside acting like he didn't see anything.

You arrived at the Cameron house early in the morning starting to clean the kitchen not expecting to be bothered so early especially not by Rafe. "Good morning Mr. Cameron." You greeted Rafe as he walked in wearing basketball shorts, his hair messy from sleeping. As much as you hated Rafe you had to be nice to him if you wanted to keep your job. He was rarely home when you were working which made the job a lot more tolerable. "Good morning beautiful." Rafe never hid that he found you wildly attractive, so you were used to his compliments.

"Y'know I saw something you might be interested in last night." Rafe chirped leaning against the kitchen counter as he sipped his coffee. "Oh yeah? And what would that be?" You didn't turn your attention away from the chairs you were dusting until you heard his response. "I saw your little boyfriend sneaking out of my sisters' room last night." You stood up turning to look at him duster still in hand. "He wouldn't do that." You said crossing your arms thinking this was one of Rafes tactics to sleep with you.

"Well, he did. I can prove it." He fished his phone out of his pocket pulling the image up and turning his phone around to show you. The picture showed a boy climbing out of the window but it wasn't 100% clear who it was. "That could be anyone." Rafe chuckled knowing you would be in denial. "Look at the sweatshirt and bandana Y/N." You took his phone zooming in your heart sinking a bit when realizing he might be right. You sent the picture to yourself so you could have it when confronting him. You avoided Rafe for the rest of your shift, giving him one-word answers if he tried to talk to you.

You rushed to the Chateau seeing the whole gang on the porch, Sarah and John B sitting next to each making your blood boil. You slammed your car door shut stomping up to the screen door. "Hey, ba-" "Were you with Sarah last night?" You cut him off your hands on your hips and when he and Sarah looked at each other you knew Rafe was right, you knew it was John B in that picture. "Y/N I'm sorry." He apologized standing up making you back away. "It's fine, you want to start fucking a Cameron, I will too." You smiled sweetly at him and Sarah knowing it would piss both of them off. The look on John Bs face when you said it was priceless and you left the Chateau driving over to Figure Eight.

You knocked on the door waiting a few seconds before Rafe opened the door a shocked look on his face. Without a second thought, you leaned up pressing your lips to his and it only took him a second to start kissing back. He closed the door pushing you against it his hands roaming everywhere. "I was right. Wasn't I?" He always had to make a comment, didn't he? "Shut up Rafe." You groaned against his lips as he kissed down your neck. He picked you up leading you up the stairs to his bedroom throwing you on the bed.

Rafe's eyes were dark with lust and he ripped off his shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers as you took off your housekeeping uniform you never had a chance to change out of. "Look so pretty for me." He stood at the foot of the bed staring down at you licking his lips. "Look even prettier tied up for me though." He smirked heading to his closet and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "Always need to be in control huh?" You teased but he quickly shut you up when he handcuffed your hands to his bedframe.

"Hm, where do I start?" He squeezed at your thighs kissing your breasts his fingers teasing your clit. "Fuck Rafe, please." You whined bucking your hips causing his finger to rub against your clit making you moan. Rafe started pinching and rubbing your clit watching as your muscles tensed and untensed and you were a moaning mess. "Rafe. Rafe." You moaned tugging at your restraints your legs opening more allowing him to kneel between your legs you were on full display for him. "Yeah, princess? Feel good?" He mocked slipping two fingers inside of you.

"Fuck yes, baby." You grew wetter when making eye contact with him, he was so fucking hot and his pupils were huge as he stared at you. He leaned down starting to lick and suck your pussy eating you like you were his last meal. He played with your nipples as your back arched into him and he had your legs shaking. He pulled away right as you were about to climax and his lips and chin glistened with your juices.

Your pussy clenched at the sight making him groan quietly. "Open your mouth." He instructed and you opened your mouth sticking your tongue out. He spit into your mouth making you moan at the taste of yourself. "Fuck you get me so hard. Always." He whispered into your ear making you blush, goosebumps rising to your body as he trailed his finger up your arms smiling at the handcuffs. "Fuck me, baby." You whined impatiently as he pulled his boxers down your mouth watering at the length and girth of his cock. "R-Rafe." You stuttered scared, John B was a lot smaller than him and nowhere as thick, Rafe was going to be a tight squeeze.

"It'll fit pretty, and if it doesn't I'll make it." He winked spitting on his cock before lining himself with your entrance. He pushed his tip in making you cry out in pain at the stretch, it getting worse as he pushed himself in more. "You're so big Rafe fuck." You moaned as he started thrusting into you your moans filling his room. "Such a tight little pussy. Squeezing me so good." He groaned his hand on your waist watching as your tits bounced with every thrust. "H-Harder." You choked out and he placed your legs over his shoulders folding you in half his cock reaching a brand new spot. You screamed at how deep he was making him smirk knowing no ones ever been this deep inside you.

His cock grew bigger at your vulnerable state, your hair was a mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, mouth hanging open in pleasure, screams leaving your mouth. Rafe pulled out of you flipping you onto your stomach spreading your ass and plunging into your pussy. You watched him in the mirror as he watched your ass jiggle with each thrust. You tried to keep your eyes open but the pleasure was too overwhelming causing your eyes to close enjoying the feeling of Rafes cock sliding in and out.

Your eyes snapped open when hearing your phone ring but soon drowned it out focusing on Rafes cock but Rafe answered the call when seeing who it was. "Y/N I swear to god you better not be with Rafe." Rafe chuckled putting it on speaker. "It's a little too late for that John B. She looks so pretty under me." A part of you felt bad about what was happening but soon got over it when remembering John B cheated on you with Rafe's sister. "I'll fucking kill you, Rafe." John B threatened and Rafe bit his lip laughing.

"Big talk coming from a cheater. I'm just giving her what she deserves." John B was growing more pissed off each time he heard your moans over the phone. "It was a mistake, I-" You rolled your eyes knowing he was going to start rambling so you snatched the phone from Rafe's hand. "I'm a little busy right now Routledge I'll talk to you later." You choked through moans hanging up and throwing your phone across his room shaking your ass on Rafes cock. Your actions shocked Rafe but also turned him on making him go full speed into your pussy making you cream all over his cock.

"That's it baby come for me." He helped you ride out your high before pulling out cumming all over your back. He grabbed a hand towel from his bathroom and wiped you clean handing you one of his shirts laying next to you. "That was the best sex I've ever had." You admitted panting and he smiled pushing his hair out of his face. "Yeah me too." Rafe agreed making you look up at him bewildered. "Out of all the girls you've slept with I was the best?" You propped yourself on your elbow as he mirrored you his hand on your waist.

"Yeah, you're the only girl I've slept with that I care about and like." He gave you a small smile embarrassed of his confession knowing you hate him and slept with him to piss off John B. You were about to kiss him but John B busted into the room causing Rafe to stand up protecting you. "No hard feelings right?" Rafe smiled shrugging causing JB to punch him in the face the two boys starting to fight. "John B stop!" You pulled him off of Rafe shielding him with your body. "You're protecting him?" He yelled his face red and chest heaving. "Yes! I initiated this! I'm the one who wanted to sleep with him." You crossed your arms knowing Rafe for once wasn't in the wrong.

John B scoffed looking between the two of you before leaving slamming the door shut behind him. You sighed running a hand through your hair turning to face Rafe helping him get on the bed. You grabbed his face in your hands kissing him softly his arms wrapping around you in response.

[mousedotjpeg]

cw: price being a cutie patootie for his wife, tooth rotting fluff

John Price was quite certain that, of all the moments he's shared with you, this had to be one of his most treasurable. Each and every time the weather forecast predicted storms, from gale-force winds to a gentle Sunday shower, his sweet little wife insisted upon starting a pot of coffee and building a little nest in the nook of the windowsill; the spot he had built especially for you.

Without fail - not counting the times he was away from deployment - you'd always have a hot cup of coffee awaiting his arrival, and a warm pair of arms to fall into, surrounded by blankets and pillows. More often than not, you'd both end up foregoing the comforts of your own bed in order to bask in each other's arms, squished together against the window.

"Honey?" Stepping into your shared home, coat damp from the rainfall, John softly calls out to you. Just as he expected (and found himself looking forward to the whole drive home) the Wizard of Oz was playing at a low volume on the living room TV, blankets pulled from open cabinets, and your shared nest already neatly fluffed up with pillows and the aforementioned throws.

"Welcome home, handsome." You coo, catching him slightly off guard as you pad over from the kitchen. Immediately beginning to help him shed his soaked layers, you press a gentle kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, then finally on his lips. "Your coffee is on the counter. Go put some warm clothes on." You instruct, before giving him another chaste kiss.

Price groans appreciatively into your lips, hand giving your waist a soft squeeze before he's off to the bedroom, rushing to get changed into boxers and a loose-fitting crewneck sweater. Upon his return, you were precariously balancing two very full mugs, shuffling over from the kitchen to the living room. He's taking them from you with a chuckle, pressing sweet little pecks on your temple and forehead, then motioning for you to walk ahead to the windowsill.

Setting them down gently in the little square hole carved out by the window, (another handy little thing John insisted the builders add) John's quick to crawl onto the padded wood, making himself comfortable.

"C'mere, darling." He calls, voice gruff as he finally relaxes into the copious amounts of blankets surrounding him. The harsh wind and rain create a juxtaposing lullaby, his eyes already droopy by the time you're settling into his eager arms. With a contented smile, you drape yourself over your husband, the chill of the room quickly being chased off by his warm embrace. Turning so your back is to his chest, (so you could still see your favorite movie play out) you take a moment to fully appreciate the loving warmth radiating from your husband.

"You're like a space heater, y'know?" You murmur, words muffled against his chest.

"That so, love?" He responds, a breathy chuckle to his words. John is met with only a brief nod, then he's gathering you up further into his arms, squeezing your smaller body tightly against his.

"The main reason I married you, actually." You tease, meaning only a slight bit of it.

"And here I was, thinking it was jus' for John Junior." He concludes.

"Oh God..don't... don't call it that."

"Sorry, love. My cock. Thought it was all for my cock."

"Not sure that's any better, John."

"Mmph."

You giggle softly against him, prompting John to smile broadly into your hair. Shit, how he fucking loves that sound - he'd do anything just to hear it.

"Reckon it'll flood, dear?" He prompts after several minutes of silence, only to be met with the very same thing. John precariously tilts his head back, only to find you dozing off, cheek smushed oh so preciously against him. Reclining his head back onto his pillow, it only takes a few more moments of watching the little rain drops race to the bottom of the glass, and the captain's out like a light bulb, snoring loudly into your ear.

cute lil shitty drabble cause it's "raining fucking hard" down here in texas, and mouse loves rain. anyways, i feel like this one turned out like poopoo doodoo. next one will probably be Nik or Rudy. ~ mouse

[slippinninque]

💕💋Mwuah 💋💕

Fontaine shows his appreciation during date night

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut, cursing, mentions of smoking/weed, slight exhibitionism, greedy!fontaine, frottage, , car sex,

Fontaine pulled back with a soft breath, mouth still slack enough for heavenly golds to shine in the left over light of the drive-in.

"Don't blame me too bad," He rasped, eyes stuck to where he was still flicking your nipples, "You had 'em sitting so pretty for me--shit, y'know what it is."

"I got hot, wasn't tryin' to seduce you..."

When you attempted to turn away, Fontaine pinched and you jolted with a moan. Fontaine made his own noise, a mix between a hum and a taunt.

"Ain't gotta try at all, pretty. You put 'em out for me, ain't wearin' no bra or nothin'! You expect me to not greet the girls? My favorite ladies..."

He sat up further until he could wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest as he teased you. He shifted from side to side, your nipples sparking against the fabric of his shirt as he murmured about your 'pretty titties'.

What was supposed to be a spontaneous date night was now turning into ruined upholstery and chaffed things.

The day started off so nicely. The breeze was pleasant and the sun was showing it's face more and more as hours went by. You were just getting home from work when Fontaine called, you both decided that it would be a waste to stay indoors.

You only had time to shower and grabbed a lavender hoodie to toss over your soft pink tube dress before you left out the door and got into the Pontiac.

Fontaine met you with a kiss and passed you a sweet tea. He proposed that you both go see what was playing in the drive-in since it opened for the season.

You rolled a few blunts while Fontaine went to grab a few snacks from the concession. There was a creature-horror right after a gritty looking action film you were both interested in seeing but if you ended up crawling around for other features, no one had to know.

Eventually you and Fontaine were in the back row up against the fence near one of the exits . The view wasn't great in this lot, but the hook-in window speakers were great quality from almost never being used.

After the first hour and the half, the Pontiac was smoked out and you were finally getting to the reruns when Fontaine hands started wandering. Last sensible thing you recalled was giggling at his flirting and challenging him that you were too tall to sit in his lap comfortably.

You should have known better when Fontaine suggested you both 'stretch out in the back ' because stretch out where? Too bad for you your head was floaty and you were already feeling saucy from your banter.

He started by pulling you closer, the hand on your thigh going up and up and up until he gentle cupped one of your breasts. You gave him a side eye as he pretended not to notice, rubbing his thumb over your nipple as if he were just holding your hand.

Then he noticed that you went braless in your haste to make the showing. It went downhill from there, his eyes blowing black as he fondled you in earnest. He kept it cute until you couldn't contain your noises, until the seat creaked from you rocking in his lap.

"Lemme make you more comfortable, baby..." He slipped his thigh between yours, groaning emphatically when your eyes fluttered at the friction. You mumbled some excused about modesty but couldn't hear his response as he buried his face back between your breast.

Everything felt so good. Being surrounded by Fontaine's smell, being fondled so teasingly--the atmosphere began to melt away, only down to the heady gaze of your man.

Still, the distant sound of movies playing and crunching gravel electrified every touch you received.

"I know that face," Fontaine tsked softly, "Whatchu thinkin' about while I got you like this?"

"Where you got me while you got me like this..."

Fontaine rolled his own hips, thrusting up so you were easily able to ride his thigh to your content. You shivered and pulled him closer, scratching his scalp as he enjoyed you.

"I got you real nice, don't I?" He grinned up at you, nuzzling closer until he could run his tongue over what he didn't tease with his hands.

He alternated groping you over the hoodie, pushing it up and peppering kisses around your areolas, leaving his mouth open enough for you to see his tongue as it twisted around your nipples.

Fontaine sat back and bounced them in his hands, holding them and staring before letting them rest and focus on moving you across his thigh. You whined when you felt your slick start to spread, dampening and dripping but Fontaine paid no mind.

"Tryna hide them big, pretty nipples from me. I thought you loved me, girl..."

You couldn't help the laugh that fell from you as Fontaine lewdly sucked the darkest brown of your peaks.

What the hell was wrong with you? The thought of being caught should have been enough to shrivel your little flower right on up, but with it's last bit of sense your mind conjured up the worst case scenario.

The thought was filthy and fleeting but it was enough to push you over the edge, your hips jerking as your orgasm knocked the rest of your mind over. The cry you let out reverberated through the car, your fingers dug into his shoulders.

A security guard or attendant flashing their light through the inky parking lot, catching the Pontiac's windshield to see Fontaine's burning eyes glaring over your shoulder as you gave him what he wanted.

He kissed you like he could taste your surrender. Fontaine's hands crawled up the back of your dress, pulling until it was bunched above your ass. His hands were back, deliciously calloused as they ran up and down your sides.

You panted up at the ceiling, head swimming as you tried to pull yourself out of your spasming clit. There was no way he was done with you so soon.

Fontaine's hands slid up the back of your neck to bury his fingers into your hair, straightening you so you met his gaze head on.

"Do you wanna cool down?"

The parking lot was virtually empty, all the other movie-watchers either asleep or occupied in the late-early hours. The Pontiac was alone in it's row, swathed safely in darkness.

You were already clit to denim and you had Fontaine looking at you like he caught a star. Still, he gentled his touches and was already resettling your hoodie back in place.

Biting your lip, you felt your head lighten even more as you decided fuck it. It's date night.

Pushing lightly at his shoulder until he was fully reclined, you pulled the wettned hoodie over your head. Fontaine rubbed your thighs and quickly leaned up to meet you once the fabric was out the way.

"What if someone sees? " You asked, teasingly but mostly curious as you searched for Fontaine's lips in the dark "And call me names?"

"If they call you anythin', it better be 'Fontaine's'."

Afterall, you had nothing but space and opportunity as your date night was still young.

His growl coated your lips and he felt him fumbling between you for his zipper. Breathless and eager, you hurried to help.

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

Ending notes: another fic that would not leave me! Thank you for reading and please tell me what you think!! Fontaine would love you from heel to hair lmao

✨Taglist✨: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @mcondance @sageispunk @wide-nose-and-wonderful @kindofaintrovert @hunnishive @ms-angiealsina

(sorry I missed a lot of peeps BUT I'm literally hiding in the workplace bathroom publishing this HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💋💕✨)

[collidescopeeyes]

Hey so I'm kind of in a tm-not-so-good place right now, so if possible can I get a Heartsteel Aphelios x reader who's dealing with a narcissistic/emotionally abusive parent? Or if possible it's Aphelios and their S/O but they also have the rest of the Heartsteel members and Alune to help them through it. As you can see by the request, I'm dealing with this right now and i kinda need the comfort, thank you!

As someone whose dealt with far too much of that myself recently, my heart goes out to you anon ❤️ hope things get easier soon.

---

You have ‘hey, are you awake?’ typed into the chatbox, thumb hovering indecisively over the send button, for a good fifteen minutes before Aphelios messages you. You aren't expecting it–it’s almost midnight, and Phel might be a night owl, but he also has a job. Part of the reason you'd been reluctant to text him–he’s busy, and you'd hate to wake him.

‘You okay?’ the text reads. You spend a moment wondering why he'd ask that, and then realize if he was texting you this late at night he also would have seen your typing notification hovering there for god knows how long. Which also means pretending you're fine is probably out of the picture as well–even if he didn't know you were visiting your parents this weekend, he's always been had a knack for seeing straight through you. May as well be honest, then.

‘not really tbh’ you type back. ‘like I'm fine I'm just…….blehhh. y'know.’

‘Want company?’ comes the immediate reply, because Phel puts sugar to shame. Too sweet for his own good, probably, because he really shouldn't be driving around at fuck o’clock at night to keep you company– ‘I missed you :(‘ comes the follow up text, neatly defeating the argument you were just building up in your head.

‘...can I come over?’ you ask anyway. ‘i don't really want to be at home right now’

‘ofc. I'm already putting my shoes on, I'll see you soon ❤️’

You send a heart back, click your phone off, and stare blankly up at the fading afterimage of the bright screen against your dark ceiling. You have no idea what time you'd gotten home, but you'd had about enough energy to crawl into bed and not much else. As such, you're pretty much still dressed, plus you're pretty sure you have clean clothes at Phel’s place. Even if you didn't, you'd steal one of his shirts to sleep in and Alune would have something to lend you in the morning. You're pretty sure she likes dressing you up, or at least, she has a habit of leveraging her industry connections to get amazing deals on clothes she just happens to think you'd look cute in. Kayn likes to joke she's trying to steal you away from Aphelios.

A knock on your front door startles you to attention, followed by jingling keys as Phel lets himself in. How long had you been zoning out for? He lived like fifteen minutes away, and it felt like it'd barely been five. You drag yourself out of bed as he pushes open your bedroom door, and even in the dim light from the street lamp outside your window you see him smile when he sees you. Immediately, you're wrapped up in a hug, and you feel him press a kiss to your hairline. The anxious knot that's been in your chest ever since you left this weekend eases a little, and you clutch at his hoodie trying to absorb that feeling. He smells like fresh laundry and comfort and home.

“...hi,” you offer after a moment, your voice slightly muffled from where you're pressing your face into his chest. You lean back, reaching over to fumble with your lamp so you can actually see him. “You got here faster than I thought, sorry.”

He shrugs. “I was at Yone’s, the bands having a movie night,” he signs. “We can join them, if you're feeling up for it, or we can just go back to mine and chill. It's up to you.”

You blink up at him. “What movie?”

“The mummy series,” he signs. “Ez is getting super offended, it's really funny.”

You huff a laugh. “That sounds…perfect, actually. You're sure nobody will mind?”

He waves a hand at you. “Of course not, the guys love you.” A smile curves your lips, and he pauses, a fond look in his eye before he ducks his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Not that I wouldn't be happy to monopolize you, but, y'know.”

You laugh. “I think Alune would have words about that.”

He shrugs. “Gotta flex my older brother privileges sometime. You good to go?”

You glance at your still unpacked bag, then nod–that was a tomorrow problem. Maybe the day after. His car is parked outside, still warm from the drive over–he must've cranked the heater for you, because left to his own devices Aphelios wouldn't feel the need for a jacket in a walk in freezer.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He signs as you pull out onto the quiet streets, one hand on the wheel.

You sigh deeply. “It's…nothing new, and I probably should've expected this because this is what always happens, but…I dunno, I was hoping we could have a mature conversation this time? But no, same old song and dance. Nothing is ever their fault, and if I get them to stop deflecting long enough to actually admit they did something wrong, I must only be bringing it up because I'm an terrible daughter who's just trying to hurt them, and then the whole thing turns into a big confrontation when all I wanted was…I dunno, some acknowledgement that ‘hey, that was a fucked up thing I did,’” you gesture vaguely at the dashboard, frustrated, and then deflate with a defeated sigh. He reaches over and squeezes your hand in wordless comfort. You offer him a weak smile. “It's fine. I'll be fine. It's just…exhausting, you know?"

He nods, and with a final squeeze you let his hand go so he can sign “I'm sorry. It's not fair, and you deserve better.” He glances at you, brow pulled together in worry. “If you ever need anything, comfort or company or help, I'm here for you. We all are. Doesn't matter how late it is or how far away you are, I'll come running.”

You probably shouldn't try to kiss him while he's driving. “Thanks,” you say instead, voice soft. “I…can't tell you how much that means to me.”

He smiles, but if he has a reply his hands are occupied pulling into Yone’s driveway. Still, he's not driving anymore, so that makes it fair game to lean across the console to kiss the life out of him.

--Right up until you hear Yone's door open. You break apart, only to see Alune standing on the doorstep, hands on her hips. She signs something too fast for you to catch in the dim streetlight, and then flounces back inside. Phel laughs, and you look at him curiously. “She called me an attention hog,” he signs, chuckling.

You laugh. “Well, we better not keep her waiting.”

The sound of the movie filters in as you enter the house and make your way to the living room, coupled with familiar voices and laughter. “--and codex style books weren't even invented until the Roman Empire!” Ezreal is arguing as you walk in, gesturing at the screen animatedly. “It would’ve been a papyrus scroll!” A chorus of greetings sounds over the tail end of his sentence, apparently dismissing what's no doubt the tail end of a long rant. They're scattered around the room–Alune and Ezreal on the long couch, K'Sante and Yone in the twin armchairs on either side, Sett lounging on the beanbag in the corner and Kayn laying directly on the carpeted floor, ankles crossed on the edge of the couch and watching the movie upside-down.

“He's been going on like this the whole time,” Sett informs you by way of greeting, grinning.

“Someone has to hold Hollywood accountable for their blatant disregard for historical accuracy!” Ezreal insists hotly, before fixing you with a pleading look. “Back me up here, you think papyrus scrolls are cool, right?”

“Pretty cool, yeah,” you agree. Alune animatedly gestures you over to two free spaces on the couch with a beaming grin, which you have no doubt she pulled rank to acquire. Kayn offers you a wave as you step over him.

“I saved some snacks,” she whispers as you settle by her side, Phel on your other. True to her word, she has a bowl of chips in one hand and a punnet of chocolate dipped strawberries in the other. Ezreal tries to sneak one of the latter while she's distracted, only for her to whip her head around and give him a narrow eyed look, to which he immediately begins to feign stretching instead.

“How was your trip?” Yone asks. You must make a face, because he frowns. “Ah. My condolences. Family matters are often... uniquely troubling."

You wince. “It was…not great, yeah. I don't...really want to get into it.”

“I'm just putting this out there, but if you want someone vanished you can just say the word, I know a guy,” Kayn offers from the floor.

You stifle a laugh. “Are you the guy?”

“Me or one of my siblings,” he qualifies. “Depends, how many people you want killed?”

“You cannot keep threatening to sic your family members on people you don't like simply because your father teaches all his foster children martial arts,” K'Sante points out dryly.

“It's not just because of that,” Kayn argues. “It's part of the pact–everyone gets one favor, no questions asked, everybody has to chip in if they can."

“And you…haven't used yours yet?” Yone asks skeptically.

“Nope,” Kayn says cheerfully. “I covered up my fuckups and achieved my numerous impressive exploits by my own merits, thank you.”

“I do not need anyone killed,” you confirm.

“Yet,” Ezreal corrects sagely, only to interrupt himself with an aghast gasp. “He's reading hieroglyphs in the wrong direction!” he cries, pointing accusingly at the screen. Phel puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side, and like this–snuggled up with him, surrounded by your friends and terrible movie–it was suddenly a lot easier to believe everything was going to be okay.

[lottiebagley]

'Tis the damn season- Sirius Black

If I wanted to know Who you were hanging with While I was gone, I would've asked you It's the kind of cold Fogs up windshield glass But I felt it when I passed you

She felt weird being there, an intense feeling of guilt. She hadn't meant to leave. Really, it was the last thing on her mind at first. But everything felt claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on her. Things with Sirius were in a weird place and really she wasn't 100% sure how to handle it. Then, all of a sudden, she had this job offer. It was temporary, 6 months in New York and she needed something that felt new and alive and she wanted to be far away from Sirius. Now everything had changed because 5 years later and she still lived an ocean away. 

Remus was a teacher now. Lily and James were married with a kid and trying for another. Marlene was thinking about filing for divorce. 

They weren't kids anymore. They were in their mid 20's. 

She was home for Christmas. She didn't have family in New York nor England, but as they had every year prior Lily and James demanded she spend the holiday at their place. 

"God I'm so glad you're here!" Lily is squealing, arms flung around her friend in the busy airport. Little Harry, who's 4 now is clinging to his godmothers leg with gleeful giggles 

"Hey Lils," She smiles, a soft smile, as she returns the hug. Leaning down to pick Harry up "How's my little trouble maker?" She questions, propping the dark haired boy on her hip as she grabs her suitcase, listening to the child's babble and responding when needed as her and Lily make their way to the Potter's car. 

Harry is babbling excitedly from the backseat, about father christmas and presents and chocolate, as Lily attempts to join the stream of traffic leaving the car park

"James is so sorry he couldn't come with us to pick you up, he got called into work last minute," Lily apologises as they start the hour long drive back to her home. 

"Prongs knows I don't mind Lils, and so do you. Just grateful to have somewhere to spend Christmas," 

"And you should know we would never let you spend it alone," Lily reminds, her friend smiling softly. 

"I do know that," She reassures. It was true. She'd grown up next door the Potter family, so inevitably James was one of her best friends. When they both made Gryffindor they stuck together, as everyone who knew them expected. They had their little group which eventually adopted her dorm mates, Lily, Dorcas and Marlene after Lily and Severus stopped speaking. 

It had been content, the war was fought and they survived.

 The friendships survived too for the most part the only lingering awkwardness being the one shared by her and Sirius. They never dated, technically, but they were in love. Utterly deeply in love. They had been since they were 15 and though they never actually confessed it, never allowed their friendship to blossom into something more, they both knew it. Sirius was her first kiss, her first time. He took her to dances and picked her up from class and she painted his quidditch number on her cheek for each game and stroked his hair. It wasn't a relationship, but in all ways but labels it was, which led to inevitable drama. It was unsustainable but nothing changed, they both knew it was why she left.  

"You can ask y'know," Lily comments, eyes ever so briefly flickering to glance at her friend knowing the thoughts in her mind.

"Don't think I wanna know the answer," She shrugs, glancing out of the window. "Is he gonna- y'know," She trails off embarrassed to admit seeing him again had been on the forefront of her mind. 

"Yeah he's spending the holidays too," Lily confirms, watching as her friend nods and knowing better than to ask her what she's thinking.

"Is he..." She trails off not entirely awkwardly, Lily glances at her intense eyes and a knowing smirk "Does he. I- A date? Is he bringing someone of the holidays?" She lets the question spill out 

"No," Lily informs simply, she doesn't offer anything else, changing the conversation quickly. 

There's an ache in you Put there by the ache in me But if it's all the same to you It's the same to me

She'd known she was going to see him, with Lily's confirmation in her mind. She didn't know though, how she felt about it. Excited and nervous all at once, would he hate her? would he have moved on? Just because he wasn't bringing someone for the holidays didn't mean he didn't have someone.

She hadn't expected though,  to see him quite so quickly. The car pulls into the drive and she knows immediately that he's there, motorbike tucked at the end of the drive way and the door is being pulled open by him. His hair is a little longer, though she hadn't seen him since last Christmas so she could have predicted that. He's clad in a warm looking jumper and some sweatpants, clearly cozy inside the comforting home. 

"There's my little man!" He's cheering, wide grin, as he rushes to open a giggling Harry's car door, quickly fetching the child from his car seat and lifting him into a tight hug. 

She wonders, briefly, if he was concentrating on not letting his eyes fall to her, or if maybe that magnetising need to look at each other wasn't there anymore. For him at least. She still can't imagine a view on earth she'd rather look at than that of Sirius Black. 

"Thought you were coming tonight?" Lily questions, she's helping the girl with her bags but her eyes are watching Sirius, watching as he seems adamant on not looking at the girl who's staring at him so desperately Lily thinks she looks as if she could combust. 

"Regulus' new girlfriend is a bore," Sirius shrugs, he knows he should greet her, that it's awkward not too, after all they are spending the next week in the same house. But he doesn't want to be the first to say something. He didn't leave. He didn't not return any calls.

"Hi Sirius," Her voice is timid and as much as he's glad to hear it, to see she's here, she's here and well and not got some boyfriend to spend her holidays with he hates it. Hates that she is reserved around him now. 

"Hey, good flight?"

"Fine, crying baby but no turbulence," 

"That's good then, aside from the crying obviously," he feels like an idiot the second the words have left his mouth

"Yeah," 

"Cool," he wants to curse whoever has decided now would be a good time to  remove every word he has ever known from his mind and leave him a boring, lifeless shell. 

"What about you? How was Regulus?" 

"Fine got a new girlfriend,"

"Heard she's a bore," The girl jokes and Sirius smiles, a real smile. Wondering, for a moment, when he last didn't have to force a smile. 

It's then that Harry begins to whine, Lily swooping in to get him inside and get him a snack. The small moment effectively ruined.  

So we could call it even You could call me "babe" for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm staying at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you and my hometown

The house is cold, it hadn't been the whole evening, upstairs and tucked in the spare bed she hadn't been. James had insisted she take the guest room. He'd assured time and time again that Remus and Sirius didn't mind her having it. Remus was going to have a blow up bed in the office and Sirius was taking the couch. She had consistently tried to take either sleeping situation, feeling bad to be the one taking the bed. The offer was refused. 

She's humming softly, some Christmas song that had been stuck in her head for days having heard it so many times recently. Her hands make light work of pouring milk into a pan, the lights in the kitchen set to dim. 

"Let me guess, hot chocolate?" His voice is velvety, not at all laced with sleep. She wonders if he was laid awake too, thinking about how she was directly above him, so close yet impossibly far. 

He had been. 

"You know me too well," She agrees, voice soft. She doesn't turn around, feels almost embarrassed to be clad in reindeer print pj bottoms and some old jumper she'd had forever. 

"You just haven't changed since we were eleven," He returns, leaning on the door frame. 

"You want one?" She asks, moving towards the fridge to take out the milk once more. 

"I got it," He announces. She nods, lets him cross the room to take out the milk, instead taking out another mug, and dumping 2 tablespoons of hot chocolate powder into it.

He arrives by her side, placing the milk down alongside a can of whipped cream. 

"Pretty sure that's for Harry's special christmas eve hot chocolate, the one with a flake and marshmallows and smarties," She comments, her tone is soft, the adoration she has for the child evident. 

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Sirius shrugs, he watches as she carefully adds more milk to the stove, "Just promise you won't tell on me yeah?" 

"Your secret's safe with me," She confirms, she looks at him then. For the first time since he entered the room. He's already looking at her. With a look she can't read and so much intensity she wonders if anyone has ever looked at her like that before. He looks beautiful though, glowing in the soft lighting of the room. 

"Y'know, I still do this every time I can't sleep," She informs him, eyes sincere and voice quiet, almost lost in the night. 

He knows what she's trying to say. It had started when they were kids, he'd found her in the common room late at night on the second day of school. They'd spoken a little, but she'd stuck to James like glue, quiet when he wasn't by her side. She'd looked at him, wide glassy eyes. He'd asked what was wrong and she'd whispered to him about feeling like she was never going to belong in Gryffindor, not even at Hogwarts. He'd comforted her, wiped her tears away and helped her sneak to the kitchens, acting confident when in reality he'd never done it before either. He'd made the hot chocolate and she'd sat on a counter, he made her laugh and she suddenly felt like maybe everything would work out, like she might belong here after all. 

It had become ritualistic for them. If one of them was sad they'd sneak to the kitchens and make hot chocolates and vent and cheer each other up. 

Her first break up. 

His bad fight with James. 

Her dad passing. 

His parents. 

The war. 

"I do too," He'd said quietly. Looking away now, almost like her words had hurt him even though it was the last thing she intended to do. "Milk's done," He adds, he wanted to leave the room, he was scared. Scared if he stood there, looking at her all domestic and cosy and glowing and beautiful, he wouldn't be able to resist the urge he'd been fighting since she climbed out of the car that morning. 

I parked my car Right between the Methodist and the school that used to be ours The holidays linger like bad perfume You can run but only so far I escaped it too Remember how you watched me leave But if it's okay with you It's okay with me

Her legs are curled under lap, almost cat like in the large arm chair. Remus in next to her, sprawled across the sofa with the crossword of the day from some muggle paper in his hands. 

She has one too, in her lap, though she's hardly looking.

"Ok, I'm at a wall. Trade me," Remus announces, leaning across to hand her the paper he had been working on 

"Huh?"

"Trade me?" He questions, eyebrows furrowing at her despondent face.

"Right," She nods, switching papers with him. 

He looks at her crossword, hardly started and suddenly he feels bad. 

"You okay?" He asks, he glances out of the window she's clearly looking out of. Sirius is out there, leather jacket and a loose scarf. He's laughing, head thrown back and eyes crinkled. Helping Harry, who Lily had bundled up extra tight, to build a snowman. 

"Fine," She confirms, pulling her eyes away from Sirius to look at her friend. 

"I can only imagine how hard this is for you," Remus says gently

"I'm okay," She shrugs. Remus nods, not sure what to say. It felt like a theme recently. In the 24 hours she'd been there Lily, James and Remus had all struggled. Not sure what to say to either of their friends. They clearly missed each other, clearly pined for each other. Yet, neither of them was doing anything about it, neither of them even wanted to talk about it. 

"You know he never wanted kids," She speaks quietly, head motioning outside. "It was weird. I always thought he'd be a great dad. Still, think he would. I just- I guess I got it. His parents were-well, y'know- and I understood him not wanting to repeat that, thinking he'd be like him, his dad I mean. He wouldn't though. He'd have been a good dad. Still could be I guess," 

"I think so too," Remus confirms, eyes traveling to watch his friend as he helps Harry to roll a head for his snowman.

"I get that he was scared, just think it's a shame," She comments. She turns back to her crossword, to Remus' familiar scrawl. She'd said too much, she didn't want to put anyone in the middle of things.

"You're wrong," Remus speaks, still watching Sirius

"How so?" 

"He wanted kids. He talked about it a bit," Remus explains, watching as she turns to look at him face contort with confusion, "Said he wanted them after the war.  A boy first, then a girl,"

"He'd be a good girl dad," 

"Didn't seem to care too much," Remus shrugs, "He just wanted a family. Everyone to be happy and healthy and safe. Said he wanted a daughter cause he thought she'd look like you," 

"Me?" 

"Who else would he have had this fictitious family with?" Remus shrugs 

"Sirius didn't want to settle down, we all knew that," 

"If you'd asked he would have done,"

"Remus-" She sighs

"You know I'm right. He'd have done anything you asked," 

"That's not fair, I wasn't even his girlfriend," 

"Sorry. I'm not trying to put anything on you. I'm just saying, he would have done anything you asked. Think he probably still would," 

"I asked him to be my boyfriend. He said no," She states simply. She'd asked too early, that's what Sirius had always said. To ask right before a war was starting, when their lives were so imminently in danger. The label would make something happening to either of them so much worse, it's what he'd said when he rejected her.

Remus wants to say that if she'd asked again, asked after the war, that Sirius would have said yes. That he'd have married her on the spot if it's what she'd wanted. That Sirius had told him that the day before she left. But Remus decides it's not fair to put that on her. She left and Sirius stayed and either one of them could have changed everything. 

"Let's talk about something else," Remus decides.

We could call it even You could call me "babe" for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm staying at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now

Lily was stressed, that much was clear. Her hair was messy and Harry was whining on her hip. The kitchen a mess around her. James wasn't much better. Somewhere outside with Remus and Sirius, a desperate attempt to try and construct the goddamn gazebo. 

"Lil, everything okay?" Her friends voice speaks from the doorway 

"Oh hey, I didn't hear you get back," Lily speaks, her voice a little quick and eyes wide as she turns around, Harry starts to let out a whine and Lily's eyes screw shut. 

Her friend is quick, reaching out to the toddler and distracting him quickly when she passes him his dinosaur toy from the kitchen counter. "What can I do?" 

"Remind me to never listen to James and agree to host a stupid Christmas Eve party next year?" Lily questions, she's moving quickly back to the counter. Stirring the chocolate that's melting in a pan for dessert, momentarily abandoning the vegetables she had been cutting. 

"Okay, and for right now?" 

"I hate food cooked with magic, but this is hard and I have a thousand things to do and no time and-" Lily complains, eyes starting to turn glassy 

"Lily, sweetheart, you are gonna be fine. Delegate okay? I chop a mean carrot," 

"No, you're a guest and-" 

"Lil, what do you need?" 

"Can you run to the supermarket?" 

"Done," The girl nods, scribbling the list Lily recites onto an old envelope 

"Take one of the boys with you, there's going to be a million bags," Lily instructs, pointing out her car keys as she turns back to her food prep "You're the best," She calls after her friend. 

The silence in the car is awkward, they both hate it, because before all of this silence between them was never anything but comfortable. She has so much she wants to say and he does too, yet neither of them can even begin to find the words they would need. 

"Got a lot to get?" Sirius questions from the passenger seat, fingers tapping anxiously at his thigh. 

"There's a list in my bag," The girl answers, suddenly questioning if she'd come off blunt, she hadn't intended to. 

"Can I?" He questions, head tilting to the tote bag on the back seat, unaware whether they were at an appropriate level to go  rifling through each others bags.

"Sure," She agrees, he leans back, grabbing the bag and pulling it onto his lap. 

He rifles through the bag for the list, trying to ignore the de ja vu the bag causes, her essentials the same as they were in her high school bag. 

"You're a shit driver y'know?" he teases, looking up from the list when she takes a turn much too quickly, jolting him in his seat 

"Maybe I had a really bad teacher," She shrugs in response, they both find their minds running to the summer Sirius had taught her to drive, her home opposite the Potter's allowing them to hang out every vacation. 

"At some point you can't teach someone, trust me I tried," 

"You gave up,"

"Well at the time I was a glorified taxi service,"

"I'd say private chauffeur," She corrects, he smiles lightly 

"I'm driving home," 

"Okay," 

Time flies Messy as the mud on your truck tires Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out We could just ride around And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you and my hometown

The black dress sparkles a little in the light of the guest room, ending at her thighs and tight to her body she turns a little in the mirror, she was running a little late but it had taken forever to get her hair to fall right. 

She thought maybe she'd dragged out getting ready a little too long. The party had started downstairs, there was so many people. People from school. People she didn't know, new friends and colleagues. Her friends, all of them. Yet it was daunting. She thinks maybe it was the thought of Sirius, Sirius all dressed up because she just knew he'd look perfect. Sirius flirting with some girl he'd invited, or one of James' colleagues or someone from school. 

She'd been drinking wine as she got ready, something she'd done to ease her nerves but now she almost regretted. Feeling a little tipsy and overly emotional, the idea of watching Sirius with someone else left her feeling a white hot anger in her very soul. A feeling she knew was incredibly unjustified, yet she couldn't push it away. 

It's why, as she walked into the decorated living room, bee lining to Marlene, who was squealing at the sight of her well missed friend, she was glad to see Sirius was in the corner of the room playing with Harry.

She spends hours catching up with friends, making polite chit chat with people from distant memories, smiling and exchanging pleasantries with strangers. She allows some guy from Lily's work to flirt with her but doesn't give anything back. 

 She watches Sirius from afar. He looks beautiful, so utterly beautiful. He's dressed in a white shirt that's tight around his form, the top few buttons undone and his blazer abandoned somewhere. 

He spends as much of his night as he possibly can with Harry, staying with the kid until he's tucking the sleeping boy into his bed. Partly because he firmly believes Lily and James deserve a night off, partly because it's the perfect alibi. 

After that Sirius tries to float, doing little jobs to help things run smoothly and using a plethora of excuses to excuse himself from conversations. He feels rude, particularly to a girl from school who he is sure is nervous to approach him. He isn't rude. But he thinks maybe it comes off that way. 

He's not sure is it's just that it hurts to see her so okay, head back laughing with her friends. Or maybe it's just how drained he's felt all day. 

He grabs a bottle of champagne and his blazer, sneaking outside and to sitting on the floor round the side of the house. Out of sight from any windows. He digs through his blazer pocket for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, a habit he's been trying to drop but honestly was struggling with. 

Its 5 minutes of silence before he is the slight click of heels on the floor. He holds his breath, hoping to not be found. She rounds the corner and he exhales. Feeling less drained just at the sight of her. 

"Got a light?" She questions, Sirius nods and watches as she crosses towards him, cigarette in one hand and glass of champagne in the other. She holds the cigarette out to him and he lights it for her. "Mind if I sit? Or I can go smoke in the back garden and we can both pretend the other person isn't out here?" 

"Sit," He says simply, she nods, sitting next to him on the cold ground, Remus had shovelled snow all afternoon. "Since when did you smoke?"  

"Since 2 years ago, I had some project due at work and I was crazy stressed. Some guy I work with offered me one and I accepted. Stupid looking back," She informs simply.

"It's bad for you," 

"I've been telling you that since we were 17," She reminds

"Been trying to quit," He admits, watching her as she stares at him. Her eyes are slightly hazy, he can see she's drank a little too much but she's holding herself together gracefully. 

"That's good. I have too,"

"Good," He nods, he watches as she inhales and exhales and sips her champagne. 

"Why are you out here?" 

"It was too much in there," Sirius admits, she nods in quiet understanding 

"I get that," 

"You always did. Get me," He sighs, almost wishfully 

"I guess so," 

"Do you regret leaving?" He asks. He thinks maybe he shouldn't. That come morning maybe he'll regret it. But there's something about the way she looks in the moonlight. The way she's been looking at him since she came outside, and how it's the same way she's always looked at him. 

"I'm really proud of my career. I wouldn't have it if I had stayed," She's careful in her words, he can see her thinking about them before she speaks

"Right." He nods, her words in his mind are a polite rejection. 

Sleep in half the day Just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait If you don't ask me to stay

"Merry Christmas!" James' voice is loud as he enters the guest bedroom, flipping the light on without a care in the world

"I hate you," She states simply, they grew up together and James really was the closest thing she had to a brother. He smirks watching as she uses the thick sage green bedding to cover her eyes from the light.

"I know. Haz wants you to come downstairs so we can do gifts," 

"What time is it?"

"6. He's been up since 4," James informs, she pulls the duvet down from her face to see him leaning in the door way 

"Fine," She agrees stretching a little before clambering from the bed. The matching Christmas pjs Lily had purchased for everyone bunched up a little. 

"Hey, you doing okay? With Sirius I mean," James' voice drops low as he asks, eyes scanning the landing behind him briefly

"I'm fine," She can tell from the look on his face he doesn't believe her "Promise," 

"Mooney said he saw you guys sneaking back into the house last night. At the party," she hates the way his voice sounds hopeful

"We were both having a smoke James. It's nothing," 

"Thought you were quitting,"

"You sound like your mother,"

"Harsh! Go downstairs already woman," James teases, his tone light as he shoves her playfully on her way past him. 

Lily makes mimosas and the group of friends share easy laughs as the day passes by, gifts exchanged and Harry smothered with love and attention. She decides it's the easiest day, people are distracted enough in the festivities the Potters have planned to not spend the whole day worrying about her and Sirius.

Without eyes on them they both find it easier to talk, they share whispered jokes and his dizzying beauty seems softer when he's smiling at her as they peel veg together. 

"Lil I'm serious, go play with James and Harry. We can handle veg duty," She's determined in the way she gently pushes the girl through the archway into the kitchen. 

"Thankyou sweetie," Lily is beaming, looking between her friend and Sirius's back knowingly before shooting her friend a knowing wink. "Rem, come with!" She calls as she retreats to the living room. Remus does as told, but not before giving Sirius a pointed look, one that screams 'SAY SOMETHING'. 

"I've got the potatoes if you've got the carrots," Sirius offers

"Sounds good," She confirms, fluffy socks pattering on the floor as she takes her place beside him at the oak counter. 

"When are you flying back to New York?" 

"The 28th, I promised Mitch I'd be back in time for his birthday stroke crazy new years party," 

"That's fun," Sirius is lying. Nothing about what she just said is fun. It's the opposite. He has three more days before she's an ocean away all over again. She's rushing home, not staying for new years like she has every other year for some guy.

 That's the least fun of all, Mitch. Who the fuck is Mitch? Sirius is racking his memories, in all the awkward Christmases they'd shared since she left she's never once mentioned a Mitch. 

She sees the question in his eyes but doesn't say anything else. She's about to, truly she is, until the song playing through the small radio changes. 

"Oh my god it's my favourite Christmas song!" She's beaming, dropping the carrot and knife she's holding and rushing to turn the music up. 

He smiles gently, watching as she begins to dance around the kitchen. Red tartan pyjamas and the knit jumper Remus gifted her, he can't stop his mind from running to all the summer holidays they'd make breakfast together in the Potter's kitchen and she'd dance around. 

"God, you still can't dance," He teases, gentle smile 

"Shut up and dance with me!" She demands, she stretching an arm out to him and fuck he wishes he knew how to say no to her. 

They jump around and sing along, hands linked together as he twirls her around the room, hearts beaming and flooding the room with laughter. 

The song ends and she's breathless, chest to chest, so close to each other. 

"Mitch?" He can't help the question, not when he's so close to her, not when it's taking everything in him not to lean down and kiss her

"He's gay." 

"Oh,"

"There's no one else for me," She says it quietly, hands dropping his and looking down to her feet, almost embarrassed to admit it 

His hand shoots up, cupping her cheek gently and forcing her to look at him 

"Me either," He reassures, voice smooth and soft. 

So I'll go back to LA And the so-called friends who'll write books about me if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking And the heart I know I'm breaking is my own To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

James Potter can make a kick-ass espresso martini. It wasn't new information, he always made cocktails in the evening on Christmas. The rest of the inner friend group (the other girls from the dorm at school) and their spouses would come over, they would play stupid games and listen to the music they grew up on and the parents would take it in turns to check on Neville and Harry who by this point would be sound asleep in Harry's space themed bedroom. 

Lily had gawped with wide eyes when she'd chosen the seat next to Sirius at Christmas dinner. Remus almost choked on his carrot when Sirius had ever so casually wrapped his arm around her at the table and she had leaned into his touch   Marlene had been shooting her friend knowing looks all night, eyebrows raised in question at the way she'd been perched on the arm of his arm chair the whole night. 

Nothing had happened. Not really. But something in the air had changed, something in the way he was looking at her was different, the longing glances had lost their sadness. 

The night ends slowly, Marlene and Dorcas wander out into the night. Alice heads to where James had pulled out the sofa bed in the office. Lily leaves having checked on the kids one last time. 

She's the next to head to bed, acutely aware of the sound of Sirius behind her on the stairs even though he's been sleeping downstairs the whole trip. 

"What are you doing up here?" She whispers the question in the hallway as Sirius arrives on the landing. 

"I wanted to say night," He whispers back, he looks too pretty. The warm lighting from the downstairs light makes him almost glow and he has a drunken grin on his face. She's no better, her eyes glassy from one too many of those damned martinis. 

"You said night downstairs," She counters, he rolls his eyes fond gentle  smile as he tucks her hair behind her ear. 

"I'm glad you're here," 

"Me too," She confirms it quietly "Look forward to getting to see you, talk to you all year." He doesn't know if the light blush on her cheeks is from the alcohol or the whispered confession. 

"Doesn't have to just be at Christmas y'know? You could call, visit even. I really miss you," He isn't shy in his confession. He'd scream it from the rooftops if it meant she might be a part of his life again for more than just the holidays. 

"Sirius," Her voice is soft, he's too close. He is so close and she feels overwhelmed by him, drunk on his scent and using all her self control to keep her hands out of his hair. 

"I mean it, darling. Truly," His hand reaches out, firm against her chin. "Hey, look," He speaks, face close enough she feels his breath on her face. She follows his eyes, looking up to see a sprig of mistletoe above them. 

James does it every year, enchants mistletoe to sprout above two people in love. Mainly, he does it so he can kiss Lily and remind her to stop being so stressed about hosting and actually enjoy the holidays. Partly, he did it in the hopes it might help his two friends find their way back to each other. 

"Can I?" Sirius's question is full of nerves, scared he's pushing her too far

"Always,"

It's gentle and timid, the way he pushes his lips to hers. It's safe at first, a peck. Neither wants the other to freak and run. 

He's the one to push it further, though that isn't really surprise. 

He pulls her ever closer, chest to chest and his big arms wrap around her, holding her to him. He kisses her like he's desperate, scared if he stops he'll loose her all over again. 

She feels like she can breathe properly for the first time in years. Feels a weight off her shoulders as she allows her hands to tangle into his hair, a craving she'd had every time she looked at him. She lets him man handle her towards the door to the guest room. 

His tongue pushing into her mouth as he holds her against the wall by the door. One of her hands stays tangled in his hair as the other moves down to hold onto the warm skin of his hip, fingertips slipping under his maroon sweater. 

His hand travels down, landing on her bum with a firm squeeze and the motion seems to bring her back to her senses a little. She pulls away, though Sirius is quick to chase her kiss swollen lips with his own. She giggles in response, one last chaste peck to his lips before she looks him in the eyes, blown out a little with lust and creased from his bright grin.

"Sirius," She sighs out, he smirks head falling to allow himself to press a trails of kisses down her jaw and onto her neck

"Darling," he murmurs against her skin 

"This is a really bad idea," Her point seems a little futile as she moves her head to the side to allow him more space to press his kisses 

"Tell me you want me to stop. Say the word and I'll go back downstairs and you can go to sleep and we can wake up and pretend none of this happened," 

We could call it even Even though I'm leaving And I'll be yours for the weekend 'Tis the damn season

He doesn't think he's ever seen a sight so beautiful. She's laid next to him, body lit by the pale moonlight casting through the window. Her skin is bare and flushed and she fits against his body as perfectly as she always has. 

Her leg is strewn over his naked torso, her head resting on his chest, hand reaching up to comb her fingers through his hair. 

His arm that wraps around her lands on her back, thumb pressing comforting circles into her back.

"You're so perfect," He speaks into the quiet. She tilts her head up on his shoulder, allowing him to see her beaming face 

"Sirius, you are the most beautiful person I've ever known," Her tone is impossibly soft, as his heart in that moment. The sincerity in her voice makes his whole body feel warm. 

He feels too overwhelmed by the sickly sweet love in his chest to come up with much of a response, instead he presses his lips to her forehead an action so full over love and comfort it almost hurts her chest. 

"I'm gonna hate having to miss you again," She says softly, her settling back into his chest as he squeezes her closer

"Only ever a phone call away," He hums hand moving to toy with the ends of her hair

"You could visit?" She suggests, scared he'll laugh at the thought though she has no reason to be 

"Anything, if you want me to do it I will," His promise makes her grin widely, she leans up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

The quiet takes over once more, both basking in having the other in there arms again, a feeling they'd been craving in the years of absence. 

"I'm sorry I left," She whispers, she'd wanted to say it a thousand times, truly she had. 

"I'm sorry I didn't come after you," He pauses for a beat, he thinks maybe the question is too big, what he's asking of her too much. His eyebrows furrowing as he thinks, deep pout on his lips.

"What are you thinking about?" She questions, thumb gently  smoothing out the lines in his frown 

"Stay," He says it quietly, so quiet she almost misses it. "Please, I need you to stay,"

We could call it even You could call me "babe" for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm staying at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now

She hadn't technically said no. She hadn't said anything really. 

She'd felt like an idiot, sitting up in the bed to better at Sirius. Blinking as her mind raced, what if she did stay? what would she be staying for? would he finally be ready to commit to her or was he asking her to give up the career she worked so hard for to be around when he wanted a casual fuck? 

"Say something," He hated how much his own voice sounded like it was begging, he hated the look in her eyes. The guilt. She was going to say no. He was certain of that as he looked at her. 

"Say anything," He doesn't mean to sound angry. Doesn't mean to make her feel bad. 

She's left, blinking as she desperately tries to gather her thoughts. He gets out of bed. 

His movements around the rooms are sharp and hurried, tugging his clothes back on. 

"Sirius," She says, she needs him to look at her. Needs him to stop for a second, to talk to her. 

"No," His hands tug his jumper over his head as he moves towards the door 

"Stop. Sirius, please just wait," She clambering out of the bed to follow him, grabbing her pyjama pants and pulling them up quickly as she reaches for the large knit sweater. She's following him down the stairs of the silent house. 

He slams the front door in her face before she has the chance to follow him out into the snow. She hears the revving of his motorbike before the engine kicks in, hears the way it fades away as he races into the night. 

She feels like an idiot. Feels pathetic as she sinks to the ground, back pressed to the front door. She had vowed a long time ago to stop crying over Sirius Black yet she can't stop herself. 

"What's going on?" Remus is calling. Woken up by the sound of the slamming door. She wipes at her tears, desperate to hide them from him but the second he sees her and sends her a soft smile she's blubbering all over again. 

"He left. He fucking just left," She's hiccuping through her crying, and he joins her on the old wooden floor. 

"What happened?" He asks gently, a comforting hand squeezes at her knee. 

"We slept together," 

"Ok, ok and then he just left?" 

"No. He asked me to stay and I- I froze Rem. I sat there like an idiot and didn't say anything. He just- I needed to think and he wouldn't give me fucking second," 

"What would you have said?" 

"I don't know what he wants. If he wanted to try like really try I would have said yes," 

"He needs to know that," 

Time flies Messy as the mud on your truck tires Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out We could just ride around And the road not taken looks real good now

She hadn't been to his apartment before. Remus had apparated her there and waited with her in a comfortable silence until he'd arrived. Sat on the curb outside, her head on his shoulder. Knowing he was home Remus left, she was safe on the busy London street, Sirius wouldn't let any harm come to her despite the deep sigh he lets out at the sight of her. 

"I wanna be alone,"

"Too bad. I need to talk to you," She demands, arms crossed in front of her. 

"We can talk later," 

"No Sirius. You don't get to say all that shit to me and then just leave," 

"Fine. come on,"

He leads her in an awkward silence up into the building, refusing to look at her in the short elevator ride to the 8th floor. 

His apartment is very him, it's cosy and homely and smells like the Gryffindor common room. 

He drops onto the sofa in the living room, she's too busy eyeing the framed photos on the wall, heart melting a little at the photo of the two of them, both in school uniform sat by the black lake her head on his shoulder his arms holding her close to him. Matching bright grins staring back at her.

"You wanted to talk," He reminds, embarrassed that even after rejecting him she's seeing his framed photo of her. 

" The other day, at the party You asked me if I regret leaving? I lied. No I didn't lie. I just- I didn't tell you the truth. I regret it, every fucking day I regret it, I lay awake every night thinking about what we could have been if I'd stuck around,"

"It's a little late for that," he grumbles, arms folded and a stoic look on his face

"Could you just listen to me?" She snaps, "I've been in love with you since I was 14 Sirius and you have never ever wanted a relationship," 

"That's not true," He protests

"Oh. So you just didn't want one with me?" She feels like an idiot, standing in front of him. Their friends were wrong, she was wrong.

He hates the hurt in her voice, the tears in her eyes.

He's on his feet now, passing over the burgundy rug to grab her hand in his

"That's not what I mean. I just- I was scared, scared if you were mine and something happened. I couldn't have lived through that," 

"You never told me that, you always just said you weren't a boyfriend guy," 

"I could be. For you I could be,"

"Why did you leave?" She questions, desperate to know why he couldn't have given her just a few minutes to work things out

"I couldn't hear you tell me that you don't love me enough to stay,"

"I would never say that,"

"No?" He questions timidly, his eyes searching her desperately

"No," She shakes her head "If I stay this can't be what it was. I'm giving up my life here. We are older now and we are safe and this has to be real,"

"It's always been real to me. I'm in love with you, been in loved with you since second year and I will be until the day I die. So sweetheart, please, please be mine? for real this time,"

"It'll always be you Sirius," She promises, his lips kiss her and she feels herself fall in love with him all over again. 

And it always leads to you and my hometown It always leads to you and my hometown

[fall-shorter]

THE NIGHT RIDE - GFR (FlashFic, WAFF)

Everybody remembers those late night rides home with your family. That's a tiny slice of life of just that, but instead of family there are thugs :D

***

It was late at night, well past midnight. A black van was quietly going through a highway. The car inside was dark as well and only orange-tinted street lamps made it possible to see people inside.

Majority of them were already asleep, leaning on the doors and breathing quietly. The vampire in the right corner was wearing big headphones, that if you paid enough attention, you could hear a faint sound of obnoxiously loud, japanese game soundtrack blasting in his ears, somehow completely not bothering him. The rest - The big lizard on the left and leaning on him, a boy with cat ears, were sleeping in complete silence. Because of that the radio was also turned off, to not disturb them. Two people on the front were also silent. The red-headed driver wasn't even holding the wheel correctly, rather just resting one of his hands on the bottom part, his other hand holding a closed cup of gas station coffee, completely washed out of any significant taste. It was just to keep him awake.

On the passenger seat there was a sleepy phoenix. She did her best to not fall asleep, leaning on the window and trying really hard to keep her bird eyes open, constantly blinking to the point it was making her dizzy. The constant loop of the street lights and the fact there was nothing on the road to distract her made it only harder to stay awake.

– You can take a nap if you want. We still have a few hours to go. – A sudden voice of Ivo, the driver, woke her up.

– Few hours? Bruh, that's what you get for wanting to skip the gates. Like, the gas will cost more than if we just went through, y'know?

– Whatever. I'm not paying them, Szili.

– yea...

She looked to the side where, besides three other highway lanes, there was also a faint, dark silhouette of a forest. She couldn't make out anything coherent out of it however. It was quite to be expected, her kind is not suited for darkness and her night vision was even worse than human's. Sziliana frowned a bit, irritated with her sleepiness as her eyelids began to fall again. Her hand slowly reached the button on the dashboard and the window went down a bit with a quiet buzz. Everything outside got a bit louder and the fresh air hit her face, making her a bit more lively. She took a deep breath.

– When I was like, younger – The bird started – I would often come back from family parties this late. Like, I was always asleep on the back, yea? Weird, I was calm enough to fall asleep, cuz I knew that my pops was way too drunk to drive…

The phoenix chuckled weakly and smiled as if her consciousness was slipping away. Well, it probably was, the fresh air only could keep her awake for so long. Ivo exhaled air slightly louder, signaling that he considered her "story" rather funny.

Sziliana yawned and then frowned very quickly. She raised her hands and gently smacked her cheeks a few times.

– Ugh! Dude, talk to me, or I'm really gonna snooze. – She pouted like an angry teen girl and stared at Ivo with reproof.

– Huh? I don't have anything to say. Just get some shut eye. – Ivo didn't even peek at her, just kept his calm, serious eyes on the road. Unfazed, as always.

– What if you fall asleep, tho? I need to, like, keep an eye on ya! – Bird smiled proudly, as if that was a very important task she had.

The demon rolled his eyes, finally looked at Szili and raised the white paper cup with brownish accents and shook it lightly in his hand.

– I drank three. This will keep me awake for the next few hours, amigo. You're good.

– Ugh, fine mom. – She said mockingly, puffing up her lips, but quickly changed her face to something more genuine – Just wake me up in like two hours or so, I'll swap with ya… With the wheel and all.

And those were the last words spoken for now. Sziliana rested her head on the car's window and her eyes almost immediately shut. Her feathers fluffed up, making a cosy cocoon for her to snuggle in and so she fell asleep really quickly.

Ivo however, did not wake her up two hours later, not like he agreed to do it. He didn't want to bother her.

[wholesome-holland]

Empty House

requested by: no one!

pairing: none

warnings: spoilers for 2x08, mention of unaliving, mention of guns, mention of violence, angst asf, sadness asf

i am so sorry for what you are about to read

     It had been roughly 6 months since Fezco had been to his home. He had been in jail of course, thankfully Faye wasn't and offered to stay and keep an eye on his grandma and the house til he was out. He didn't know how he got out so soon, maybe his lawyer was just that good. He didn't know, and honestly he wished he could've stayed back there a little longer. It was mind numbing, he was able to keep his mind empty yet still occupied in order to avoid dealing with the reality of what happened 6 months prior. He stood at the gate with two officers, being escorted out to where Faye was waiting for him. She'd visited numerous times, much like Lexi and Rue. That was it, those were his only friends really. Faye gave him a half smile, and he returned a weak one. Once he made it past the fence he went over to the car, hopping in the passenger seat. The blonde handed him his iPhone before driving off.

"You excited to be out?" She asked, glancing at him briefly. He just shrugged his shoulders, staring out the window. This was Ash's spot. Faye waited a few seconds before speaking up again, "you know, I managed to keep the store open. I've managed to keep the bills all paid because of it, I even got a second side job. It's kinda nice not being involved with illegal activity to make money." Fez chuckled a little at that.

"Yeah, I uh, I decided it's time to stop that shit. My grandma prolly wouldn't be too happy, but it's time, y'know?" He said, his voice low and on the verge of shaky.

"Well, I'm proud of ya. I know she is too, no matter what." The two exchanged small smiles once again before letting the music fill the air. The closer they got to the house, the more Fez's nerves were going. He didn't know what to expect, but he didn't want to go there. He wanted to stay as far away as possible, but he knew he had to go home. They rounded the corner and pulled up to the driveway, Fez sitting up straight as the car parked.

"I have some runnin' to do, but if you want I can stay for a little while. Incase you don't wanna be alone." Faye offered upon seeing the look on his face. He shook his head once again, not wanting to hold her up.

"Nah, it's okay. T— thanks, though. For the ride n' the offer." He got out of the car with his house key in hand, walking towards the front door very slowly. He unlocked the door handle, twisting it open and taking a step inside just enough to be able to close the door behind him. He almost was expecting for Ash to come greet him before reality hit him once again. He's not here. He'll never be here again.

The ginger looked around, first noticing the patches of light grey plaster all over the walls— probably to cover up the bullet holes. His eyes were glued to the bathroom door for just a moment, tears blurring his vision when he finally looked away. He wiped his eyes quickly with his sleeve before making his way over to Ashtray's room. He pushed the door open and flicked the light on, taking in the sight of everything; it was exactly how Ash left it. Not a single thing had been moved, apart from any snacks or drinks he left behind. His feet dragged as he walked around, then sitting down on what was his little brother's bed. He looked around yet again, seeing the boy's phone and favorite hoodie on the end of the mattress. He reached for the hoodie first, bringing it to his face and breathing in its scent. It still smells like him.

Fezco sniffled, his body beginning to shake as he tried to hold back his cries. He place the hoodie carefully in his lap before grabbing the phone. It was freezing to the touch and wouldn't turn on, it had probably died months ago. He put it back down, tears streaming down his face. He pulled his own phone out of his pocket and opened it, seeing Faye had charged it. His background was of him and Ash, he stared for just a moment before going through his hundreds of notifications. He saw a couple missed calls from Lexi from the night everything happened, he figured he would call her later. He didn't want to talk right now, not to Lexi, not to Rue, hardly even to Faye. The only person he wanted to talk to was Ashtray. To tell him he loved him, that he missed him, that he was just a kid and it shouldn't have been him. He wished so deeply that this was all just some sick joke, or a nightmare from hell. But it wasn't. This was real life, his baby brother was gone.

Against his better judgement, he opened up the iMessage app and clicked on Ash's contact. He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear, waiting for the voicemail message to play.

     "Hey, it's Ash. Leave a message, bye." The sound of the boys voice was almost like a stab to the heart as tears rolled off his cheeks. He hung up before calling again, softly crying when the message played again. Yet again, he repeated his actions about 10 more times before a harsh sob ripped from his throat. The only times he really wasn't occupied while in jail was at night when trying to fall asleep, or when he'd wake up from recurring nightmares about the night everything happened. But now, he had no distractions. He had to deal with his grief and the god awful pain of Ashtray being gone.

     Why? Fez thought, why him? Why not me? Why couldn't it have been me? He wished a hundred times over that he could turn back time and take Ashtray's place. He knew it would've killed the boy to have to go on without him, but at least he would've had the chance to live a normal life like he deserves. Ashtray didn't ask for any of this; to be raised a drug dealer and to fuck around with that business. Fez didn't either, but at least he had some normalcy before his mom died. He loved their grandma and wouldn't trade his time with her for the world, but if he knew all those years ago this was where they would end up, he would've tried to change something. He liked to think so, at least.

     Every single memory he had with Ashtray filled his mind, each and every one replaying in that moment. It hurt, it stung, it was killing him. He remembered the first time he found him in the hallway to the very last time he saw him in the exact same hallway. It came full circle; it was like a cruel parallel from the universe. After a few more times of listening to the voice message, he felt a bit of anger bubbling in his stomach. "Fuck!" He yelled, throwing his phone to the floor.

     Why didn’t he just come out of the bathroom? Why did he fuckin' do it? The man was angry. Angry at Custer, angry at Mouse, angry at himself— hell, even a little angry at Ashtray. He felt guilty for that bit of anger towards the boy, but he couldn't help it. He thought about all the different could've, should've, would've's but it no use. It didn't matter, nothing he did mattered anymore. Ash was gone. Ashtray wasn't just his little brother; he was his best friend, his partner in crime— literally— his whole life, and if Fez was being honest with himself he was basically his son. Fezco raised that kid almost entirely by himself after age 13, Ashtray was his kid. It was his job to protect him and he failed. His mind was stuck on that thought for a good while, longer than he would admit, and it devastated him more and more with each passing second.

He didn't know when he finally decided he needed to leave the room, but it was long enough that Faye had already came back home. The man stood up, grabbing the hoodie, and went up to the door and opened it. Fez took one last glance before shutting off the light and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

     "Do you want something to eat?" Faye asked as he walked past the kitchen. He shook his head no then thanked her for the offer and went to his own room. Fez pretended to miss Faye glancing at the hoodie with sad eyes as he walked by. She knew exactly which one it was, and it broke her heart as she saw the clutch he had on it. She checked on him occasionally throughout the night, he never had much of a response. She figured he needed space and time to grieve, anyone would.

Fez wrapped the hoodie around his small French fry pillow and held it close the rest of the night. He kicked his shoes off and laid in bed, waiting to succumb to slumber and escape this nightmare that was his reality, and ignore his empty house.

so um yeah this hurt my heart to write—

if you want something to cheer you up or pretend 2x08 didn’t happen i have a fix it fic here 😭😭😭

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

[yanyan-stuck]

For kinktober, what about john egbert with a breeding kink¿

KinkTober Day 5: Breeding Kink with John Egbert

TW: Rape

"Alright, I'll see you later?" You asked the boy, John Egbert, who you had met at the grocery store that day.

"yeah definitely! i look forward to seeing you again!" You parted ways, and began to walk home. It was only after you walked into your house that you realized you had forgotten to give him your phone number, or anything else that he could use to contact you.

You sighed, annoyed at your temporary forgetfulness, but didn't really see a way that you could tell him now. Maybe you'd be lucky enough to see him around town again. You always went to that grocery store, usually around the same time. Maybe he did as well, only time will tell.

You take your shoes off and walk further into your house, sitting on the couch and turning on the television. You flipped through the channels absentmindedly before picking one. You watched a few episodes of the show, before checking the time. It was a few minutes after 5 pm, so there would still be a couple hours until sunset.

You grab the remote again, thinking that you'll turn the television on again to watch one more episode before starting to make dinner, but you realize that you hadn't taken the garbage out yet. You get up and decide to do that instead, walking out your back door with the trash bag in hand.

Once you get outside, you close the patio door behind you and start walking to where your trash cans are, quite a few paces away from your back door. You climb down the wooden steps leading to the end of your driveway where your garage is, and open the lid of the trash bin. You toss the bag inside, but as you go to shut it, you hear the noise of what sounds like a large animal nearby.

You look around, expecting to see a deer or something similar, but instead make eye contact with a man who was walking towards you in your backyard. You backed up a couple steps, still watching him to make sure he didn't do anything more, before turning around at the base of the steps and running up them. When you got to the top, a gust of wind blew through your yard, so strong you felt like it would blow you over. You tried to keep walking to your door, figuring that this shouldn't matter to you because he would also be pushed back.

Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around you and cover your mouth as the wind instantly stopped. You first thought the person was simply blocking the wind from hitting you somehow, before looking over to your yard and seeing that the grass was totally still. You started panicking, lashing out and trying to get him off of you, but he just moved you into a bridal carry. "hey, it's okay. don't worry, you're safe with me." You heard him say in a familiar voice, one that, although you recognized it, you just couldn't put your finger on who's voice it was.

He carried you off, walking through a wooded area to avoid the sight of other people. In your struggling, you didn't see exactly where he had taken you, but you knew you were somewhere in the woods near your house. When he took you out of the woods, he was in someone's backyard, and, based upon how casually he walked through the back door, you assumed it was his.

He carried you through a few more doorways before dropping you onto a bed. He walked back to the door and locked it behind him. He turned back around to watch you with an amiable smile and started getting undressed, starting with his shoes, then his shirt, then his pants, and finally his underwear. You sat cowering against the far wall, trying to put as much distance as you could between the two of you. You had seen him the lock the door, so you knew you wouldn't be able to get out through there, but he was standing near the only window in the room, so you didn't have anywhere you could escape from.

He started walking towards you, still grinning down at you with love and obsession both present in his eyes. "y'know, i really wasn't supposed to do this so early. i was supposed to wait a couple of meetings so i could get a better space set up for you, but i just couldn't help myself. watching you is one amazing thing, but actually getting to talk to you is infinitely better. i've had to sit back and just watch you for so long, i'm so glad i finally got you to talk to me earlier today!"

When he got to the edge of the bed, he grabbed your arms and pulled you off the bed and to your feet. He started undressing you as well, pulling your shirt over your head and taking off your pants, even though you struggled against him. Once he got all of your clothes off, he dragged you to the bed again and tossed you onto it, following you onto the bed and starting to kiss you.

He crawled over so that he was sitting in between your legs and lined his member up with your entrance. He thrusted in slowly at first, only putting his tip in at first before pulling out and slowly trying to slide back in. He had to thrust a few times in order to get himself all the way in, and you fighting back didn't help him in the slightest.

He grabbed your arms to stop you from pushing against him, and started speaking while driving his hips into yours. "shh, it's alright (y/n). we can start a lovely little family together, the two of us and all of our children, just stay still for a little bit." You tried to pry your arms out of his hands, but were unable to, no matter how hard you tried to pull. You could feel his dick inside of you, methodically thrusting all the way in and out to the tip.

He continued for what felt like hours, thrusting occasionally punctuated by him changing positions or giving himself a break. You had begged him to stop until your voice went hoarse, while all he would do is whisper comforts to you. You had cried until you physically couldn't anymore, and nothing else you had tried got him to stop.

After cumming one final time, he pulled out and moved so that he was on his knees between your legs. He looked admiringly at your entrance, and when he saw a bead of his cum starting to drip out, he pushed it back in with his finger. He sits there for a while, making eye contact, before removing his finger to lean over and kiss you. He plants many gentle kisses across your face, then pulls back to lay beside you. He holds you against him, with his face nuzzled into your neck until you hear him start snoring behind you.

[initiala]

Oh hai.

It's not dead or abandoned! Remember how I started this for @cssns​ 2018???? Just, y'know, life happening, and also several global catastrophes. But it turns out that writer's block is really cured by procrastination, which is why I was able to finally figure out some spots I was stuck on while not packing up my apartment to move.

Please enjoy this overly delayed post-wedding fluff and smut.

Also on AO3 and FF.Net

______________

The holidays weren’t really something she paid attention to, not after her parents died. Her mother had loved any excuse to have a party and Emma had grown up with the nondenominational trappings of Christmas in their house, but the tradition had died with Snow and David when she was sixteen. She normally spent the last week of December pulling extra shifts at work, covering for people who had families and wanted the extra time off, and never had a second thought about it. The Pack had their own holidays, particularly around the solstices, but nothing compared to the warm, colorful parties of her childhood -- and frankly, nothing ever would. 

So when their short honeymoon fell over Christmas Eve and Day, Emma didn’t think anything of it. Killian made no indication that he celebrated it, and when they returned home on Boxing Day it was to a chilly apartment without any of the decorations that dotted the windows up and down their street. She turned up the heat a little while Killian took their bags back to the bedroom to be sorted out, and she double-checked the windows were locked tight while turning on a few lights in the living room.

The colorful twinkle outside meshed with the light snowfall in a way that made her heart twist painfully in her chest, a flash of her mother’s laughter ringing in her ears and a brief memory of her father cornering her mother under the mistletoe. Her thumb went to the band on her finger, a lump forming in her throat, and she remembered why she normally worked herself to the bone this time of year.

Work was a distraction from missing them.

“Emma?”

She whipped the curtains shut to put an extra layer between the cold glass and the warming room, between herself and her memories, and turned to face her husband as he came into the room. “Love, what’s wrong?” She shook her head, but his large hand engulfed her own as it went to discreetly wipe at her eyes. “Darling, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten this but I can smell when you’re sad,” he said, his voice soft as he pulled her into his embrace. “We’ve been home five minutes, you can talk to me.”

Fuck, she hated talking about her feelings and her parents and particularly her feelings about her parents. But she’d promised -- she’d vowed -- that she’d be more open and honest with him, and she was fairly sure he wouldn’t be able to get lucky and guess what all of this was about. She hadn’t told him enough about her parents to let him put all of the pieces together. “I just… I miss my parents,” she said softly, and let him hold her as he made a sympathetic noise and murmured soothing things in her ear. “Mom really loved this time of year. She threw the best parties, one year she actually got fairies to make it snow inside and me and the other kids had a snowball fight. She loved the colors and the whole family thing and she really loved the smell of pine trees -- it kind of gave my dad a headache. But we made it work because Dad always said how it put an extra sparkle in Mom’s eye and he loved her enough to put up with it. I normally try to work a lot through this time of year, everyone wants extra time off, but I was kind of hoping this year we could have some new memories to make this time of year less sad. And it helped, it really did, but then I just saw the lights outside and the snow and it just… it hit me a little harder because I’ve been trying so hard not to think about them. So I miss my parents and I’m sorry this time of year is going to suck no matter what and--”

Killian shushed her softly and she realized she was crying as he thumbed the tears from her cheeks. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said. “If I’d known… well, I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t blindfold you everywhere -- well, I could, but not in the fun way --” He grinned as she swatted him on the chest. “So testy, my love. You don’t have to be sorry about missing your parents. You just need to let me know, so I can comfort you or let you sit and mourn them in peace, or drive you to distraction. And if I need to do so more this time of year, well, let it be my burden to bear. You don’t have to bear this alone, Emma, you can always rely on me.”

And didn’t that just make her get teary all over again? “How the hell do you always know the right thing to say?” she asked, burying her face in his chest.

“Because I’m magic,” he rumbled under her and she pinched his side. “And we’re too alike, you know. Now, what do you need?”

She sniffled and took a breath, taking mental stock. They really needed to unpack and get everything sorted out for laundry, but while that would keep her hands busy her mind would wander and she really didn’t want to keep thinking about the past. But she knew that leaving everything until tomorrow or the next day would bother Killian; she didn’t want to be alone right now, either. “Can we bring the bags back out here and watch TV while we unpack? I know you just put them away but--”

He was already nodding, though, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Whatever you need, love.”

Since he’d been the one to put them away and she was being the emotional asshole, she figured it was only fair that she bring the bags back out. She had no idea how he’d done it all in one trip, not with how narrow the hall was and how much she disliked scuffing her baseboards with the wheels, and surreptitiously eyed them as she made multiple trips back and forth.

No scuffs. “I’m magic,” she mumbled in a sarcastic imitation of her husband’s accent, shaking her head.

Killian had the TV on to the classic movie channel and the unmistakable scent of chocolate lingered in the air. “Dash of cream liqueur, whipped cream, and cinnamon,” he said, handing her a mug as she sat down.

Emma smiled into it, letting the warmth of the drink and the liqueur slide into her belly. “Did I ever tell you Mom’s the reason I like this?”

“Mm, no.”

She watched as he deftly unzipped the largest bag and started sorting through it; she’d done little more than toss everything in without caring about wrinkles, and the whole thing reeked of sex and wine -- they’d had not nearly enough of both over the last few days, but apparently enough to let the scent sink in to all the fabric. A different kind of warmth settled under her skin, but she wasn’t in the mood to act on it just yet. “According to my dad, Mom drank this all the time when she was pregnant with me. Her biggest craving; not that she didn’t like it before, but it was like another level. So then it became our thing, once I was old enough to have some, just sitting together on the couch or in the kitchen or wherever, with our matching cocoa with cinnamon.”

Killian glanced over at her, a glint of mischief in his eyes, and her heart swelled suddenly with reaffirmation of how much she loved him. His bangs fell over his forehead in a way some might call rakish, but when he looked at her like that -- lips quirked up in amusement at his own joke he was about to tell, unable to hide his glee at his own cleverness -- she could only call it boyish. “Sweet tooth before you were even born, eh Swan?”

Maybe not a joke then, but teasing, like they were twelve and he was pulling her tail. “I’m a wolf of taste,” she said loftily, setting her mug aside and pulling up another suitcase to go through. “Unlike some mangy curs around here.”

“Mangy cur?” Emma squeaked as she found herself pinned under him on the floor, his nose brushing against hers and heat flooding her body. His grin promised absolute filth, the hard length of his body pressed against hers deliciously, and the scent of his arousal was enough to make her dizzy. “Didn’t realize we were comparing pedigrees here, princess. Too bad you’re stuck with the mangy cur and not some stuffy purebred.”

“I happen to like the mangy cur,” she whispered, their lips close enough to tease.

“Good,” he growled. “Because he likes you too.”

She moaned into his kiss, which was far gentler than she was expecting, and he let up on her arms enough to allow her the space to embrace him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, then down his back, where she teased the patch of skin revealed by his sweater riding up. “Emma.”

He pulled back and she smiled at how he already looked wrecked. She glanced over his face, refamiliarizing herself with the little details she already had memorized but still loved looking at: the old scar on his cheek, the ginger hairs in his beard, the little freckles and the way his eyebrow seemed to jump up on its own when he got curious about something. He caught her eye with his again and one corner of his mouth ticked up, a sudden shyness in the way his eyes darted around, like he wasn’t sure she was staring at him . “What?”

She shook her head, reaching down and slipping her hands into the back pockets of his jeans, earning a surprised -- and pleased -- noise from him as she pulled him in for a quick kiss. “I just… really love you,” she said when they parted.

His cheeks reddened, but just around his cheekbones, and she loved that she knew that detail about him. If she was further back, she’d be able to see his ears turning the same color, and if she really got to him she’d be able to get his nose to match. She liked the way he could get around her, quiet and unabashedly himself, someone who couldn’t take a compliment seriously and waved off words of praise. It drove her a little crazy, but she’d made her vows to voice her feelings to him and she was going to make good on those vows.

“I love you too,” he said, his nose brushing against hers, and he leaned in to kiss her again.

The laundry could wait.

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

“ There she is!” Ruby hollered, ignoring the glares from the other bar patrons.

Emma also ignored the knowing looks on both Ruby and Dorothy’s faces as she shrugged out of her coat. She knew her hair was mussed and she had beard burn on the side of her neck -- Killian had a particular fondness for this dress and the lack of coverage it provided -- and she was definitely late for their night out, but she only felt the slightest hint of guilt over that. Besides, both Ruby and Dorothy knew what it was like to be newly mated, so they could cut her a break. “Hey, thanks for saving me a seat.”

She flagged down a waitress to take her drink order and then grabbed a handful of peanuts. “So… how’s it going?” Ruby asked in a sing-song.

“Babe.” Dorothy elbowed her.

“What? She’s got sex hair and she reeks of it. If that’s her excuse, she’d better dish.”

Emma rolled her eyes, cracking open a shell. “We didn’t have sex, thank you, he just… made it hard to leave.”

“Oh I’ll bet something was hard.”

“Ruby.”

The waitress arrived with Emma’s drink and they ordered one of those mixed appetizers platters to share, as well as another round of drinks. Emma gulped half of her drink after the waitress left again before saying, “I won’t kiss and tell.”

As Ruby made a face, Dorothy reached for her own peanuts. “Some of us appreciate that.”

Emma downed the rest of her gin and tonic; she hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate it, and seeing as how this was a wolf bar the drinks were made to match their metabolisms, but this was the first time she was getting to hang out with her friends since her wedding and she wanted to have fun. Tipsy, ridiculous fun, with no husbands and no responsibilities. Girl time. Catch-up time.

Only, she realized as the conversation started to actually move towards catching up on each other’s lives, she just had stories about Killian.

“Okay, I forbid you to talk about your husband for thirty seconds,” Ruby said, pointing a french fry at her for emphasis. The appetizers had been replaced by entrees, and Emma rolled her eyes as she took an enormous bite of her burger. Fine, she’d just chew instead. “You have to have been doing something other than banging each other silly or going to work.”

Emma took her time with her food, drawing out Ruby’s challenge and taking some small joy in the agitated tick in her friend’s eyebrow. “Well it’s not like you don’t know what I do for work,” she said finally, reaching for the ketchup. “And we’re in a post-holiday lull, so it’s gonna be a bit before things get interesting.”

“One of us has got to get a different job,” Ruby declared, while her mate rolled her eyes indulgently.

Emma didn’t bother to respond, instead flagging down the waitress for another G & T. There was definitely a happy buzz going on under her skin and she wanted it to continue; the burger would only dull the effects before too long.

“Bitch on the prowl, ten o’clock,” Dorothy said suddenly, looking towards the door.

Emma and Ruby turned to look, with what felt like most of the bar’s patrons and staff following their lead. A woman she didn’t recognize was taking off her coat, revealing a dress that would send normal humans rushing to her side in an instant; here, it only added to the allure of her scent. She was obviously in heat, unattached, and looking to rectify the situation.

Already two men were walking towards her, jostling one another to make her acquaintance first; Emma just looked back to her tablemates with a look of resignation. “They’re not wasting any time,” she said.

“Neither is she; she must be the first one of the season,” Dorothy said, watching the situation near the door with mild interest.

“Just glad it isn’t me this time.”

“If there wasn’t any concern about like, us not being turned into a science freak show, I would absolutely watch our version of a trash dating show.”

“Babe, we have too many seasons of Love Island on the to-watch list as it is,” Ruby said.

“Correction, we don’t have enough seasons of Love Island on the to-watch list.”

Emma glanced back at the display happening on the other side of the bar, letting the sound of her friends teasing each other blend into the rest of the noise. This woman was definitely taking no prisoners, making eye contact with one of the men while her hand rested almost possessively on the arm of the other, her lips spread into a wide smile. Hell, she was charmed by this kind of display, especially when the woman demurely glanced at the second man under her lashes for a moment. Maybe Dorothy was right about a dating show… She watched as the woman laughed at something one of the men said, throwing her head back to give everyone a good look -- and smell -- at her neck, and Emma found herself dazedly wondering when she might be able to slip away back home and ravish her husband.

“Oh no, we’ve lost her.”

“Pheromones side effect, tragic really.”

She blinked back to attention. “What?”

Ruby looked annoyed, but Dorothy at least seemed sympathetic. “She’s still in the honeymoon phase, babe, it’s gonna be a while before everything settles down. The coming season doesn’t help.”

“Okay, you can stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Emma snapped. Her drink had been refreshed without her notice and she downed it. “I get it, I’m sorry, I’ll shut up about Killian and whatever.”

Ruby started to respond, but Dorothy silenced her with a look. Whatever silent argument they had, Ruby lost and she huffed as she went back to her meal. The reaction stung -- it’s not like Emma hadn’t sat through hours of Ruby pining and then gushing over her own mate, she could stand being the recipient for a while -- but Emma felt it wasn’t worth it to argue and ruin the evening by just turning it into a fight.

Eventually, they started talking again, Ruby breaking first with some pack gossip. The night never got to the raucous levels any of them might have hoped it could get to, but was overall a nice time and Emma even forgot about getting her feelings hurt. It felt good to get out of the house for a while with friends -- but when someone wolf-whistled as the woman in heat from earlier waltzed out with an entirely different man clutched possessively at her side, Emma thought it might be even better to get back home to her mate.

Even short periods of absence seemed to make the heart grow fonder.

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

As the new year rolled through to its second month, Emma and Killian quietly celebrated the one-year anniversary of their meeting, marveling at how much had changed in just a year. Killian noticed that Emma seemed to greet each day with increasing wariness, and his own awareness of the mating season coming into bloom turned into some kind of insatiable itch under his skin.

He’d never participated in mating season before meeting Emma. He’d been soured from pursuing any sort of relationship after the disastrous affair with Milah, and even when he’d been half underwater with alcohol he’d decided he’d never again get snared by any she-wolf’s trap. And to his embittered mind, mating season was just another trap, luring men into siring pups or trying to turn a one-night tryst into a long-term commitment. Even after he’d sobered up and straightened himself out, he’d still felt the sting of rejection in his phantom limb and did his best to stay occupied and aloof in spring.

Until Emma.

He’d known from the start that she was different, that chance encounter with her packmates. She had fire, and the way she’d immediately come at him on the offense had piqued his interest immediately. Then the wind had shifted and he’d immediately known what the source of the problem with her packmates had been, the full-blown scent of a bitch in heat burrowing down to awaken his most basic instincts. He’d done his best to remain a gentleman and let her walk away, as she’d clearly had no interest in acting on her own hormones, and once her scent faded on the wind he’d walked away as fast as he could without rousing anyone’s suspicion. He’d thought that was the end of it, until a chance meeting at a bar led to a delightful night of conversation and drinks…

And the most wonderful, passionate woman he’d ever had the pleasure to offer himself up to the next day.

Poor love had been so miserable when he’d come to see if his magical hangover remedy worked for her that he’d hardly reacted to the overwhelming bouquet of Emma in heat. He’d acted immediately to try and rectify the errors in her spice cabinet, mixing his potion and letting her recover. And as he tidied up the mess he’d made, it became increasingly hard (in many senses of the phrase) to ignore the fact that he was absolutely surrounded by pheromones and the obvious lingering scent of everything she’d done to relieve herself of the ache over the last several days. And when she’d emerged from her blanket nest again and stood there with only a shirt and her knickers and legs that went on for miles and giving him every last chance to run before they’d do something they’d regret?

He’d never wanted someone more in his entire life, mating season or not.

It wasn’t long after he returned home, he realized that long weekend in her bed (and her shower and her kitchen… and one particularly enjoyable occasion with her back pressed to the window and the lights in the living room turned off to keep the outside world in the dark to their activities) would never be enough for him. Liam accused him of moping, his friends thought he needed to get out and meet someone new to get Emma out of his system.

Looking up now, watching her enter the room shyly and holding out a simple padded envelope, he knew just as well now as he’d known then: he could never get her out of his system, even if he tried.

“What’s this, love?” he asked, accepting the envelope from her as she settled in the crook of his arm.

“Early valentine’s present,” she said simply.

They had a reservation at a restaurant that day, so he was a little confused as to why she didn’t want to simply wait until then. “Any particular reason why this is an early gift?”

Her scent changed, a little surge of arousal, and amusement laced her voice, “I kind of figured it was safer to give these to you in private.”

Well now he was intrigued. “Very well then, thank you and I accept.”

Reaching into the envelope, he felt photos -- a stack of actual printed, glossy photographs. He glanced down at his wife -- fuck, he’d never be over that, his wife -- and watched her chew her bottom lip nervously as he pulled the photos out. 

Each photo featured Emma in some way, posed and primping and perfect in all her glory. These weren’t amateur photos by any means, and even her hair and make-up looked like someone else had done the job -- not that Emma did poorly at her own appearance, but she wasn’t one to add such accentuation to her eyes to give them that smoky effect. Killian swallowed hard as he went through each photo, his heart thumping especially loud in his ears: Emma looking directly at the camera in some sort of modernized glamour shot; Emma from behind, shot from the waist up, looking coyly over her shoulder as she slipped a shirt -- was that one of his? -- down her arms to expose her back beneath a wave of blond curls; Emma laid out on dark satin, her hair spilled around her like a halo, wearing what was definitely one of his button-downs and nothing else from the way she gripped it closed. “Emma, how did you--” his throat felt nearly as tight as his pants as he paused at the next photo, her eyes downcast as she lay on her stomach, the curve of her breast visible in the opening of his shirt.

“I am people who know people,” she said simply.

On and on it went, all of them sensual or titillating without pushing the envelope enough to qualify as lewd, until the last one: she reclined on her side, propped up on her elbow, on a pelt that matched her own. Completely bare, her back faced the camera, her hair spilling down her shoulders as she looked to the side, not quite looking over her shoulder but enough to give the viewer a look at her demure profile in an otherwise completely shameless photograph.

“Jesus Christ, Emma…”

She rested her head against his shoulder, by all appearances merely a content wife who was pleased her husband liked her gift, rather than the mischievous seductress she truly was. Minx. “You like them?” she asked.

“Very much. And may I add, excellent call on a private viewing,” he murmured, nosing her hair. “Had anyone else even glimpsed these, I would have had to rip their throats out with my teeth.”

She hummed and he grinned as her scent flared. “The whole murderous, possessive alpha male thing shouldn’t be such a turn on,” she commented, and squeaked as he hauled her up in his lap.

Placing the photos on her lap, he tapped the last one with one finger. “This one should be blown up and professionally framed, I might hang it up in my office. Your arse is a work of art, love.”

“It is,” Emma agreed, “but wouldn’t that go against the whole ‘if anyone else saw these I’d kill them in cold blood’ thing?”

He tweaked her nose; she really was a terrible mimic of his accent. She always made him sound like a Mancunian somehow. “I didn’t say it had to be the main office, and while I admit that intimidating any potential contractors to a better profit turnover would be better, I can’t say I’d be able to get much work done with such a distraction.”

“And it being in your home office would do any better?”

“Well,” Killian said, drawling on the l’s, “for one thing, I wouldn’t have to travel far to take care of any, ah, problems that might arise from a viewing.” Emma snorted, no doubt feeling exactly the sort of problem he spoke of pressed against her bottom. “Though why would I need to look at this if I have the real thing waiting for me?”

“Who says I’ll be laying in wait for you?” she asked, poking his chest. “If our history says anything, I’m the one who pounces on you the moment you walk through the door.”

“Or sooner.”

“Or sooner,” she said. Looping her arms around his neck, she tilted her head. “You really like them?”

He opened his mouth, prepared to remind her that he’d already answered that, but then he noticed the slight furrow of her brow, the nearly invisible downturn of her lips, her wide eyes flicking between his as she tried to read his expression. Killian softened, in several ways, remembering how difficult she found it to be vulnerable; he suspected the act of posing and taking the photographs had been easy -- Emma was a beautiful, confident woman and she knew it -- but now came the hard part: seeking approval. “I love them,” he told her seriously, tightening his hold around her. “A pale substitute for the real thing, but this on my desk,” he flitted through the photos to the glamor shot, “will remind me of the gorgeous woman I have waiting for me at home. And get me through the long , hard days when we don’t see one another.”

She gave him an overly patient look at where he’d emphasized his speech. He leaned down and kissed away the wrinkle between her brows, breathing her in. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone such as you, my darling, but I’m grateful every day to whatever thread of fate drew us together.”

Her breath hitched and her arms tightened around him. She shifted, tilting her head up to kiss him; the intensity of it nearly overwhelmed him, telling him without words how much she loved him and appreciated what he’d said. He felt her fingers in his hair, grazing the sides of his face and neck, her lips moving against his with a hunger he recognized well. “Let’s move these,” he rasped, doing his best not to just throw the pictures all over the floor, “before we make a mess of them.”

Killian gladly let Emma take control then, pushing him flat on his back on the couch and straddling him. “Show me what you really think,” she said, and whipped her sweater over her head, the offending garment falling almost protectively over the stack of photographs on the floor.

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

The dream started the way it always did: she was sixteen again and her body wasn’t cooperating as she tried to climb the height to the challenge grounds. Most of this was pulled from memory, the sounds of her mother and Regina fighting, the bitter cold, the tang of blood on the wind, but while the stones under her were covered in ice and snow, she’d been able to climb with only a little trouble. She’d been more worried about what she’d find than making sure her feet were going in the right place.

In the dream, though, it was like moving through molasses. Images came in flashes -- her mother lunging and scoring a blow on Regina’s side, Regina’s snarl and the moonlight glinting off the ceremonial silver knives, her father bleeding to death on the ground. Her voice stuck in her throat as she tried to scream for help, like her mouth was sewn shut.

She was helpless to stop what was happening; she always had been, and even in a dream she couldn’t change the reality that her parents had been murdered in front of her.

But for the first time she was able to get to the top, only to find Regina fighting Killian instead of Snow. He had no knife, no weapon at all, swinging wildly with his fist and kicking where he could, but Regina seemed to have the upper hand as she dodged his every move. It looked like she was completely fine with letting him tire himself out first before she had to do anything; Emma tried to scream, tried to get them to stop -- why would Killian be fighting Regina? -- but her mouth wouldn’t work.

Killian lunged and Regina dodged with ease, moving on the offense for the first time as she slammed her elbow into his back. He fell with a cry and suddenly a rifle was in her hands. A crack sounded in the frozen night and then Killian lay still on the ground.

Her body moved, freed from whatever had trapped her in place. Regina was gone, and Emma flung herself at her mate’s form. He lay sprawled on his stomach, a dark, wet patch spreading across his back in the same place where he’d been shot last fall. She packed snow against the wound, an animal cry ripping from her throat in a desperate plea for help. She turned him over, trying to see if he was conscious, but he was white as death and as cold as if he’d lain there for hours instead of moments --

Emma woke, a scream stuck in her mouth as she fought to get the blankets that were tangled around her and constricting her movements off. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tumbled to the floor; the solid impact shook off the confusion between dreams and reality, but it couldn’t get the image of Killian bleeding out in the snow out of her mind. She curled in on herself as her mind blended it with the same sight of her parents that she’d relived over and over again for more than a decade, her chest aching as she tried to stifle her sobs.

It was late, but she hadn’t gone to bed as Killian had still been at work. She’d dozed off on the couch, something she hadn’t done in a long time—in the last few months, the combination of Alice’s crystal magic and the ever-present scent and feel of their mating bond in the bedroom had helped ease both of their night terrors. Their den represented safety and security, giving them peace of mind to rest easily.

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

Emma took deep breaths, trying to calm down. She reached for where she’d left her phone, using the hem of her shirt to scrub her face dry with her other hand, and checked to see if there were any messages. A few warm tears leaked out still, even as she checked the time and noted that Killian had texted not long ago to let her know he was on his way home.

As if on cue, the sound of keys in the hall reached her ears, and a moment later they scratched at the lock and then the door opened. “Sorry I’m so late, darling, I—what happened?”

He was at her side in an instant, gathering her into his arms. She lay her head against his shoulder gratefully. “Bad dreams, it’s nothing.”

“Sweetling, the fear-scent hit me full in the face when I came in, it’s not nothing.”

His heartbeat under her ear soothed her, some of the lingering tension in her shoulders easing with the steady thrumming. Her arms went around him and his hold tightened, just a little, as if he could protect her from her own demons just by holding on tight.

She wished he could.

“Bad dreams,” she said again, clearing her throat after her voice came out thick. “A lot of the same, mixed up together in a shitty new brain cocktail I didn’t order.”

He knew about the recurring dream with her parents, and the newer ones from the incident in the fall, so it wouldn’t be hard for him to put together what she meant. He kissed the side of her head. “I’m sorry, darling. Why didn’t you just go to bed?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here. I was waiting for you to get home and just nodded off.” Her book, forgotten until now, lay face-down on the floor, pages bunched up and wrinkled now from when it had fallen from her lap in sleep. “If I’d known you were staying that late I would have just gone to bed.”

Killian sighed. “I’m sorry. I was working on a contract and needed feedback from the overseas partner; it’s morning in Singapore so I knew I could get prompt replies. I should have said something earlier.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I still feel terrible.” He kissed her again and stood, bringing her up with him. “Come on, let’s have a nightcap and you can tell me how to make it better.”

She smiled wanly. “I just need you. That’s all I need to make it better.”

Emma allowed him to lead her to the kitchen. “You have me, Swan, you know that. You’ll always have me.”

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

She woke slowly to the gentle, teasing press of lips against her own. There was a murmur in the back of her mind that sounded like ‘ wake up, darling ’ and she had the bewildering sensation of being in two places at once before a finger brushed against her neck and arousal surged through her body. Instantly she felt more alert, kissing Killian back with newly awakened vigor, and he groaned as she pushed him back, reversing their positions so she lay atop him. “Cheater,” she accused, only allowing them a moment to breathe before coming together again. 

He stroked her mate-mark once more and the swell of arousal almost hurt; she clenched her thighs together, trying to ease the ache that lay between them, but Killian’s hand moved down, coaxing them apart to tease his fingers between her folds. “So wet for me,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” she said, biting her lip at the feel of his fingers on her flesh, the warmth pulsing through her body, the sparks of pleasure with every stroke. He ducked down, pressing his lips against her neck and she whimpered at the touch, feeling like she was melting into putty in his arms. “ Tease .”

“I’m a cheater, a tease,” he murmured against her skin, punctuating each word with another kiss. “What’s next? Scoundrel ?”

She cried out as his fingers thrust home, filling her with that delicious stretch she craved. She could feel him moving his fingers inside, teasing her further, and she didn’t know how she wasn’t just soaking his hand with how turned on she was right then. With each thrust of his fingers, he seemed to lift her up and it took her far too long to realize it was a combination of his own urging and her unconscious compliance as she rose up above him. She threw one leg over his waist and felt the head of his cock bump against her thigh; Killian withdrew his fingers and she looked down to watch him rub her juices off his fingers onto his cock as he took it in hand, quickly positioning himself in place for her to sink down on top of him. "Oh fuck me," he moaned as she began to move, her lips finding his mate-mark.

His fingers dug into her hip as she rode him, skin slapping as she chased her pleasure. The combination of their teasing each other’s mate-marks was driving her nearly insane with lust -- she barely noticed when she peaked, the need for more clawing its way through her veins. Killian protested when she lifted herself off him, but he seemed to pick up on the general plan when she turned and got on her hands and knees.

She gasped, sharp and shallow as he pushed in again, her hand grabbing a fistful of blanket for purchase. He felt so much bigger this way— always had since the way he’d taken her that first time. "If we're going to do this like animals, might as well look the part,” he’d said then, and she certainly felt like an animal now as she pushed back onto him in earnest, back arching and throat rough as she keened, pleading for more.

“Greedy girl,” Killian panted through grit teeth, his hips slamming against hers as she cried out. “Drenching my cock, begging for it.”

“ You woke me up,” she retorted, gasping again as he hit a good spot. “There--do that again, fuck .” His hand found her hip again, nails stinging into her skin just enough to pull a groan out of her. Again, he snapped his hips forward, but it’s less frenzied than before, sharper, calculated, and the breath that punched out of her lungs at the next thrust felt laced with fire. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, felt her heart stutter at the way his mark stood out dark against the morning light.

She slipped against the sheet, nearly buckling, but his hand was there before she could, sliding up the length of her torso to curl his fingers around her shoulder. Too-fast, she found herself surrounded by him, his weight half-draped on top of her as he pulled her flush against him and oh, oh . Fuck tumbled out of her again as she twisted to claim a rough kiss. Distracted, his hips slowed at the contact, but she pushed back again with a roll of her hips.

The hand on her shoulder urged her down, his weight shifting off her back as he reared back and her head pressed against the mattress. The angle was just right, a keen tearing from her throat as he resumed speed, driving into her hard and fast and -- “ Fuck, Killian! ”

His hand slipped under her, between her legs, found their way to her overstimulated clit and teased, drawing circles around it and pressing--

Killian’s phone started to vibrate on the nightstand. Emma felt her orgasm slip beyond reach for the moment, her concentration broken, and she groaned in frustration. She didn’t even know what time it was, but it had to be too early for anything but an emergency. “Killian, you should see who that was,” she mumbled, her head shifting against the mattress as he pounded into her.

Her husband snarled and that sent a little thrill down her spine, reigniting what had been lost. “Whoever it is should fucking know better than to call when I’m balls deep in my wife.”

She had no idea how to articulate how absurd that was, but he moved his hand again and squeezed her breast, leaving wet streaks of her own arousal along her skin and her core clenched around him in anticipation. He exhaled sharply, another little growl escaping him, and she pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She felt his fingers move along her skin, dancing up her back and nails scratching just enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, until they found her mate-mark once more and started tracing around it, lightly circling, pressing just enough--

She saw stars. Burst of color behind squeezed eyelids and an impossible wave of pleasure crashing through her, her legs feeling numb and buckling under her as he rode her through her orgasm until she heard a grunt signaling his own. She slid weakly down onto her stomach, her skin still tingling and her core still shuddering, dragging air into her lungs as fast as she could to try and calm her racing heart. She felt the bed shift behind her, heard Killian’s heavy breathing, then felt him settle between her legs. Before she could fully understand what was happening, she felt his nose brush the sensitive seam of her ass, and then dip lower as his tongue found her dripping, abused, and still fucking aroused cunt. “ Jesus --”

Emma tried to push herself up on her elbows, tried to army-crawl up the bed and away from her insatiable husband’s questing tongue, but he satisfied himself with only a few laps before pulling away. She twisted, flushed and glaring at the smug grin on his face. “Who’s greedy now?” she asked.

“I do love the taste of us together,” he admitted, righting himself and settling back on the pillows.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes and summoned all of her strength to get up and go clean herself. Wobbly as it was, she managed the trip to the bathroom and even brought him a washcloth to clean himself up before giving her weary legs a rest and laying next to him. The heady feeling of arousal still burned inside, though more like a smoldering ember pile than the full-on inferno he’d worked her into before, but she pushed it away; she wasn’t in heat yet and her body had limits.

For now.

“So what was that for?” Emma asked.

“Do I need a reason to wake my wife and lavish her with my attentions?” She poked him in the ribs, a particularly ticklish spot, and he squirmed. “Cut it out,” Killian said, giggling. “Your smell woke me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “My smell?” she asked, her voice flat. “You know, from anyone else those might be fighting words.”

He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “And far be it from me to challenge you, darling. No, I believe it may be close to time, your scent has… shifted somewhat.”

Emma let her head fall back with a groan. Motherfucker. Well, it was to be expected; it’s the normal time for her to go into heat, it was just… the worst. Though, having a mate would make it exponentially easier than previous years; she had that to look forward to, at least. She just hated being completely ruled by her hormones, hated having so little control over her own body. And of course Killian would be the first to pick up on it, of course he’d know her so well that he’d pick up on even the slightest change in her scent. Idly, she wondered if he could tell because he’d smelled her in full-blown heat before, but in truth she believed he’d know any changes in her body and her scent almost before she did.

Puts the kibosh on any cutesy surprise things whenever we get around to having pups , she thought wryly.

“Judging by your enthusiastic response, you’re still unhappy about the prospect,” Killian remarked.

She sighed. “It’s not that. I love nothing more than using you as my personal sex toy, I just… hate everything else about it.”

“We could try a last-minute honeymoon,” he suggested. “We did talk about going somewhere this spring.”

“It’ll be wicked expensive, not to mention both of our bosses would kill us for leaving so last minute. And don’t even try to tell me Liam would be understanding, he’d find something to harp at you about.”

“Technically I’m my own boss.”

“Yes, but what captain leaves the helm to go fuck his wife silly for a week?”

His teeth flash in a grin that sends a shiver down her spine. “I’m sure plenty do, particularly when the captain’s wife is as beautiful and alluring as you. And I do have minions to keep things running, you know I don’t do everything right?”

“You have to stop calling your officers ‘minions’.”

“I pay their salaries, I can call them what I like. Besides, which is less of a mouthful, Chief Operating Officer or minion?”

“Coming from the man who takes an hour to tell a five minute story.”

His grin widened. “One of the many charms you love about me.” She rolled her eyes and the bed shifted as Killian reached for his phone, which pinged a reminder that he had a missed call and a voicemail. “Though I could have reason for it, seeing as how one of them called at a most inopportune time.”

Emma worried her lip between her teeth as he listened to the message, the tinny voice reaching her ears perfectly as questions even she knew could have waited a few hours were relayed. If he was right, and it was reasonable to assume he was, then it would be easier to just combine the honeymoon and her week in heat. It was extremely annoying that there wasn’t any way to really tell when her body would go into heat, outside of paying attention to signs like any subtle changes in scent, and they couldn’t have planned this ages in advance. The thought of paying all the last minute booking fees made her skin crawl, but she also knew he wouldn’t suggest such a thing if it wasn’t feasible.

Marrying up a couple of tax brackets was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Killian tossed his phone back on the bedside table, muttering darkly to himself, and she settled against him again. “How about this,” she started, “we take today to make sure a quick getaway isn’t going to be a problem, and then go in a couple of weeks? I don’t think it’s going to happen in the next few days and we need some time to get our shit together.”

“Eloquent as always, Swan,” he said. “And the full moon is next week, so we should schedule around that as well.”

Remembering that gave her another sense of relief: for some reason, it wasn’t common for their kind to go into heat the week of the full moon. Some did, but it was extremely rare, and always led to complications with the litter. She thought it might have something to do with how her monthly shifting stopped when she’d been pregnant before, nature realizing that changing forms while pregnant wasn’t good for the mother or the fetus, but it wasn’t like there was anyone she could ask about that. Again, something else that the more scientific-minded of their community were studying, but it was difficult.

And it wasn’t like there was The Scientific Werewolf Monthly to publish any of that research.

Maybe there should be.

“Well, that settles that,” she said, her mood buoyed by the lunar calendar. “We’ll go in a couple of weeks. Plunk me on a beach somewhere that’s not Boston in winter and I’ll be set.”

Killian’s expression was a thrilling mix of joy and sin. “Then I’d better make sure it’s a private beach, because I have no plans of letting you wear anything more than a bikini the whole time we’re gone,” he said, shifting to loom over her as he spoke, the last words breathed against her lips before he caught hers up in another kiss.

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

The wave of pleasure that had been building inside finally crashed over her, sending ripples up to the top of her head and down to the tips of her toes. She sighed, sated for the time being and pushed away the latest of her spent toys, reclining back on the silk maroon sheets to watch as he took his leave from her bed. They all knew the drill, the men lurking in wait for her summons; she hated for them to linger, but she did indulge in the view as they stumbled away from her room.

For now, though, Regina was tired. That was the third one today, and it was barely noon on the first morning of her heat. She rolled her head on her neck, as much as she was able, joints cracking and muscles stretching. She wasn’t a young pup anymore, as difficult as it was to admit some days, so while being ravished three times by three different, handsome young things in one morning certainly sounded like an ideal way to spend one’s time, it was proving to take a toll on her.

She didn’t like to think too much about what that would mean.

She didn’t care for the reminders, the lines at the corners of her eyes getting a little deeper if she looked too long, the silver strands she kept carefully colored, and now her body tiring a little sooner than it had the year before.

Any slip might give rise to rumors, and rumors often lead to those same men lurking downstairs foolish ideas about power.

No, for now she would rest a bit, take lunch, and assess what else she could do to keep her hand on their leashes until just the right moment.

Her phone rang midway through lunch. Annoyed, Regina answered in her usual, clipped way. “This had better be important.”

- She’s leaving town for a week, her and that British wolf of hers. My sources say it’s probably their honeymoon, but we have to remember the season. If she comes back pupped-- -

“I can make my own conclusions, thank you Sidney,” she snapped, her mood darkening. “Keep tabs on them if you can, and the Nolans. We may have to move faster than anticipated.”

She hung up before he could agree to anything -- it didn’t matter, he didn’t have to agree. He just had to follow orders.

She sat still for a moment, staring at her plate, then moved suddenly, throwing her tablet against the wall. The news that Emma Swan, previous heir apparent to the pack she now ruled, had taken another mate after all the work she’d done to destroy that last relationship had sent her into a rage that kept her people on their toes for weeks. She didn’t need any reason to allow support of any kind for that little bitch to rise, and a newly mated pair with a fresh litter on the way would definitely give reason for people to remember and feel sympathy for the girl. To start rumors or petitions to restore her place.

To revolt.

She’d put in too much work expanding, improving, and keeping her pack in line to let the memory of the old alphas resurface.

Snarling, Regina got to her feet. Rage mixed with arousal, the need to take control of something overpowering anything else, and she pressed the intercom that would summon another one of her playthings to the bedroom.

She hoped he had stamina, though she didn’t quite care if she ended up breaking him in the end. He was easily replaced, just as all the others were.

She was in control here. Not them. Not any of the hotheads she dealt with on a regular basis.

And never, never Emma Swan.

[furikakyo]

a return to roots | 5

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost

Ichiro arrived right on time at 5:45 in the morning, buzzing your door just as you had gotten dressed after a quick shower. Steam wafted out of the bathroom as you rushed to the door to greet him and show him where the luggage was. Without anything to say, he promptly picked up one of the large hard case suitcases and you followed suit, going after him into the elevator. When your bodyguard loaded both of your cases into the trunk of his car and then opened the door for you to get into the car, you quickly said, "I need to double check everything in there is fine. I'll be back in a minute."

After reassuring Ichiro that you would be ok by yourself, you dashed back inside to survey your apartment, checking each room to make sure you hadn't left anything important behind. The kitchen and living room were clean, check. When you got to your bedroom, you paused, seeing one of your acoustic guitars sitting in the corner. Should you bring it? Were you actually going to write music? When you had announced your hiatus officially, you had stated that it was to gain inspiration for new music... but then that wouldn't really be a break, would it? You gnawed on your lip, remembering what Kuroo had asked of you the night before: "Take care of yourself in Hyōgo, alright? You're there for a reason; to take a break." 

You scowled, cursing Kuroo and his knowledge of your work habits. But, a voice inside you reasoned, it wouldn't be work if you were writing just for fun... You thought back to those moments in your childhood home, in your room, writing songs and uploading them to YouTube and SoundCloud without thinking that anything would come of it; back before you felt any pressure to perform. Back to when you wrote lyrics that weren’t very sophisticated, but earnest and heartfelt all the same… back to when you had your muse to sit beside you every step of the songwriting process.

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you ran to the corner of your room and snatched the guitar, put it in its case, and then snapped it shut with finality.

If Ichiro was confused about you carrying down another piece of luggage, he said nothing, only staring ahead and driving when you were buckled. "Onigiri Miya," you reminded him, then settled into your seat. The ride there wasn't too far from your apartment; you had rented out the space because of its convenience, so anywhere you usually wanted to go to was within a reasonable distance. You watched the traffic with disinterest and spotted restaurants with dim lighting inside, most likely already prepping for the day ahead of them. The world kept moving on ahead, regardless of whether or not you liked it.

When you arrived at Onigiri Miya, Osamu was already out back in the van, probably waiting impatiently. You checked the clock in the car and clicked your tongue. You weren’t even late.

When you stepped out of the car, Osamu opened his door and got out too. You smiled widely. “Samu!” You rushed forward and gave him a strong hug, which he somewhat reciprocated. He wasn’t as big on physical touch as his brother.

Osamu only rolled his eyes though, patting your back as you told him he looked great. “You do, too. Want me to help with your bags?”

You led him to the trunk of your ride, where Ichiro was already opening it and carrying one of your suitcases. Osamu hefted the other one up, and you trailed behind with the guitar case. After securing everything in the back of the van, you turned to your bodyguard.

You smiled, a genuine smile, and then repeated what you’d already told him over text. “Well, Ichiro-san, I don’t know the next time I’ll see you. I’ll make sure to text you in advance if I plan on going to more public areas.” He said nothing, so you continued. “Thank you very much for all you’ve done for me, and I look forward to seeing you again in the future!” You gave him a bow, which he reciprocated stiffly before quickly getting back into his own car and driving off.

You sighed, then looked to Osamu. He quirked an eyebrow. “Ready?” You nodded determinedly, getting into the passenger seat of the van and buckling, him doing the same.

“Alrighty, then,” he cracked a grin. “Time for a road trip.”

After a while of scrolling through your social media accounts you sat back and stretched. Then you flopped back into your seat and looked over to Osamu. “Samu,” you whined in the most obnoxious voice possible, “do you have any food? I’m so hungry.”

Osamu rolled his eyes, jerking a thumb towards the back of the van. “Ya really think I wouldn’t bring food for the trip?”

Immediately, you turned around and began looking behind your seat for food. Sure enough, there was an insulated bag with onigiri. You gasped, bringing the bag into your lap with stars in your eyes. “You brought some?”

You ignored whatever his response was, instead unwrapping one and biting into it. “Mmm,” you moaned, chewing slowly. The nori was still crisp and the rice was fluffy yet still sticky. You closed your eyes to focus on the food. He must have made them right before you got there for them to be this fresh.

“I’m guessing you didn’t eat breakfast, then,” Osamu said, eyes staring ahead at the road.

Your grip on the rice ball tightened before you quickly realized what you were doing. Your apartment didn’t really have much left to eat after you’d finished up the gyoza last night, and even if you’d had food, you weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to keep it down. Butterflies had filled your stomach as you had tried to go to sleep, and they hadn’t really disappeared yet. “No,” you shook your head. “I woke up early in the morning and was tired.”

Osamu hummed and then didn’t say anything else. After another long beat of silence you squirmed in your seat, a little on edge. “Mind if I play some music?” He shook his head at your question and so you took over the AUX, playing some songs that had been stuck in the back of your mind lately. After the music started, any awkwardness immediately dissipated as you sang along and Osamu tapped his thumb on the wheel to the beat of whatever was playing. At one point you had even pointed out his cute habit to which he had denied before doing the same thing twenty minutes later. Giggling, you just looked out the window and didn’t comment on it that time.

After about an hour of songs, Osamu finally spoke again. “You can go back to sleep, if you want. Ya look tired.”

You looked over at him and then nodded, curling into yourself, rubbing your wearied eyes. Sleeping would be a good opportunity since you hadn’t gotten much last night. You leaned against the seatbelt and window and closed your eyes, ignoring the bumps in the road which made your head hit the glass each time. Before you knew it, you were asleep. 

After a little less than five hours, you woke up to Osamu driving, now playing the radio instead. You looked outside. Gone were the skyscrapers and bright lights; in their place were rows and rows of empty fields, all blurring past you. "Are we in Hyōgo yet?" you asked, turning back to him.

Osamu gave you a quick glance and then switched his gaze back on the road. It was just the Onigiri Miya van on the stretch, the rest of what you could see of the roadway completely devoid of another vehicle. "Yeah," he replied. "We have about an hour left. I was gonna stop at the next place to stretch, though." He looked over at you again. "Is that alright with you?"

You nodded and then dug out another rice ball from the thermal bag, munching on it as you stared out the windshield. The nori wasn’t crispy anymore but at least the filling was still yummy.  "So we're going to stop somewhere first. What's the plan after that?"

Osamu adjusted his grip on the wheel, driving with only one arm. "I was thinking that we could stop by your house, unload your luggage, maybe clean up your space since no one's been there for a while, and then go to do my business in Hyōgo." He paused, then added, "With Kita."

Your heart raced. It was your first day back and you were already going to have to face Kita. You could just stay home, a voice nagged at you. No, you thought, your face filled with grim determination. You could do it.

Almost as if sensing your internal strife, Osamu said, "Y'know, Y/N, I think Captain is just as nervous, if not, more." He continued staring ahead, not looking at you. Now he started tapping his thumb against the wheel again.

But you, your head snapped to look at him. "Really?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically.

Osmau nodded, smiling. "He's barely said a peep in the group chat he's in with me. Although now that I think about it, that's usually how he is." He chuckled. "Unless he's getting in between me and Tsumu."

You sighed, sitting back. Why had you expected Kita to hold anger towards you? Because you chose a career over him? Because you chose success over two of you, the voice in the back of your mind whispered. You ignored it, crossing your arms. You felt bad for thinking he would be anything less than how he always was in your mind (he was always Mr. Perfect), but it also made you feel better knowing he was scared too. No, not scared. Nervous, Osamu had said. Oh, god, how were the two of you going to act when you saw each other?

"Hey, Y/N." You turned to Osamu just as he pulled into the driveway of probably the only gas station within a 50 mile radius. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You'll figure it out."

As you followed him out of the van to stretch out your legs, you could only hope that you would figure it out. Preferably before you had to see Kita.

You had, in fact, not figured it all out by the time you and Osamu reached your childhood home. Instead of thinking about your lack of a solution, you resorted to reaching under the dingy welcome mat and pulled out a plastic bag with a key inside. “Still here,” you said cheerfully, showing the dirty bag off to your friend.

Osamu rolled his eyes and waited as you fumbled with the key to the house and then eventually opened the door.

You peered into the dark corridor and slipped off your shoes before stepping onto the hardwood floor. “I called the electricity and water guy,” you muttered, dragging one of the suitcases behind you. You paused and then grabbed the handle, which extended, then let the suitcase’s wheels do the work for you. “Everything should be functional by the end of the day.” When you got to the end of the foyer, you gasped. “What…?”

The inside of the house was, contrary to your belief, not at all covered in a thick layer of dust like you’d expected. Instead, it looked almost exactly the same as when you had moved out from there.

Osamu trailed behind you, taking his cap off and scratching the back of his head. “To be honest, I forgot that this was happening. Everyone here didn’t want to see your house collect dust and fall apart, so they..." He motioned around him, your eyes following.

The tatami mats in the living room and your parents' bedroom were clearly cared for, otherwise there would’ve been the overwhelming scent of dust or mold. You could imagine the diligence it would’ve taken to clean them so regularly. And the furniture— you ran a finger along the top of the kotatsu and then looked at it; nothing. You’d have to move the kotatsu into storage since it wouldn’t make much sense to have it out right now; you only used it in the winter...

You drank in the rest of the house, mentally planning where to place things and what to rearrange to your own liking. "I'll get the other case you brought," Osamu muttered, sidestepping around you to reach the doorway. You barely noticed him leave as you crept to your own childhood bedroom, sliding open the shōji screen door.

…Huh. It didn't look any different from what you last remembered. You walked inside. You had your western-styled bed, which still had the furniture sliders under the legs to protect the tatami mats; the bookshelves along the wall with your favorite books and shōjo manga... You paused at the string of fairy lights strung above your dresser. Clipped onto them were photos from high school: you and Osamu proudly holding a double-tiered cake you'd made in home economics, you and a few of the other Inarizaki boys fooling around after practice, you with your parents in front of the school in your third year. You laughed to yourself while looking at them, recalling the moments in which the pictures were taken; back when Samu's hair was grey and Tsumu didn't know what toner was, back when your only responsibilities were as Y/N the assistant manager and co-class representative of 3-A.

You stared at the end of the string lights, where there was a picture missing. You knew what was supposed to be there, in that gap. You were unsure of where it had gone though, so you searched your entire bedroom, taking out all of the books in your shelves and turning them upside down, removing all of the drawers in your dresser and peeking inside the base. You scoured your belongings for a sign of where that photo could have been, but to no avail. 

"You looking for something?" Osamu pushed off of the doorway he'd been leaning on and peered over your shoulder. "I can try to help ya find it."

You shook your head, smiling. "No, it's okay. I lost something but it's not that important." You stood up and dusted yourself off, brushing your hands together. "We have some free time now that I don't have to clean up around here. What should we do?"

Osamu nodded, thinking to himself. "Well, we could go reacquaint you with your neighbors… or we could get to the farm early. It’s,” he checked his phone, “around 3 right now so we would have a couple hours to check out the entire farm. It’s big, so having too much time on our hands wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Uh…” You bit your lip and stared expectantly at Osamu. You make the decision.

He lifted an eyebrow incredulously, then said, “Alright, farm it is.”

You dropped your phone into your lap in disappointment, tempted to just throw it out of the window of Osamu’s van. Kuroo really is kind of useless, huh, you thought, staring out of the window glumly.

The sound of the tires hitting gravel road caught your attention and you looked out the front windshield. You sucked in a breath. You were here. At Kita’s farm. Or rather, you thought, Kita’s house. You had parked in the driveway of his home which overlooked all the fields. They were still somewhat of a muddy brownish color from how far away you were.

“Ready?” Osamu tried to look grim, knowing of your inner turmoil, but his glittering eyes said otherwise.

You exhaled and then nodded. “Yes.”

The two of you didn’t end up getting very far along the fields before Osamu ran into someone he knew, probably someone else working on the rice fields under Kita based on the way he was dressed. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and, somehow, long sleeved shirts and pants. Osamu smiled, greeting the man, “Koji.”

His recipient smiled too. “Osamu. How’s business in Tokyo? Still thinking of opening another shop in Osaka?” Koji motioned for him to follow him down the path in between the rice paddies, and he did, already lost in a conversation. You watched as another group of workers came towards the duo, and you heard laughing and cheering as Osamu talked to them.

Well, damn. Osamu had left you behind. You looked around and then checked your phone. You still had basically two hours to kill. “Ugh…” Should you just wait in the van for Osamu? What if Kita saw the van pulled up and approached it, though? You did NOT want to be alone with him, just the two of you. Plus it would be hot waiting in there. You pulled at the front of your t-shirt. At least there was a slight breeze every once in a while when you were outside.

Am I really going to do this? You looked up at the sky and shielded your eyes from the sun. It was already beating down on your shoulders and back. Sighing, you started in the opposite direction of where Osamu and the workers had gone. There seemed to be a lot of property, you thought, admiring the view. Although the rice paddies were still muddy, the view you had from this side of the farmhouse was stunning. In the distance were lines of trees so dense, and mountains even further away, just a faint silhouette smoothed against the sky. You imagined what it would look like when the rice was ready to be harvested, all green and heavy with the fruits of labor. 

A few days ago you’d thought absentmindedly that life had been kind to you, Kuroo, and Kenma. But now, looking around the serene landscape and close-knit community of workers, filled with a fresh green newness brought from only the spring, you wondered: maybe the years had been kind of Kita, too. 

Behind you, you heard dull rustling, and you turned automatically. You froze, stunned. Your mouth moved and formed words before you could even comprehend what it was you were saying.

“Kita?”

a/n: ohhh my goodness i had the worst experience with a karen yesterday and i never thought i would have to deal with one for some reason…. fuck you amy and i hope i never have to see your bitchass face again 

taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen​, @duhsies, @succulentmom, @kenmaslov3r​​​, @introvertatitsfinest

some ~fun facts~ 

- ichiro the bodyguard/driver may or may not have shed a tear or two after y/n left. (i told you he was a big softie)

- he wanted to give you a hug goodbye but wasn’t sure if that would be overstepping 😔

- imagine samu loading the van with your luggage and pushing off the doorframe after previously leaning on it with his muscly arms and glorious tiddies… BEEFY SAMU SUPREMACY 🧎‍♂️

- one of osamu’s guilty pleasures is pop music 😭

- one of y/n’s fav things to do on social media is just go through atsumu’s public profiles and read the thirst comments 😭😭

[lunar-wandering]

....Family, huh?

girl help i keep posting emotional fanfics at 1 am in the morning

Word Count: 2k

read on ao3

When Wukong and MK returned from the fight of the day, Mei, Tang, Sandy, and Pigsy were all waiting for them. Once Wukong set MK on the ground, Mei immediately ran forward and drew him into a hug, being careful of his injuries. Tang and Sandy were quick to join her. Wukong sighed and turned, about to leave, when he felt a tug at the end of his scarf, stopping him. Turning, he saw that Pigsy had grabbed onto the fabric, preventing Wukong from leaving.

"...Do you need something?" Wukong asked, wanting to head back to the mountain and just rest, it had been a long day after all.

"I... wanted to thank you." Pigsy said, and wow, Wukong had not been expecting that.

"....Thank me for what?" He asked.

"For taking care of MK." Pigsy said, "The kid is like family to me, you know? They're all my family. If MK died....I'm not sure what I'd do. That being said..."

Pigsy suddenly tugged on Wukong's scarf, hard, pulling him closer to him, so that they were staring at each other eye to eye.

"If anything every happens to the kid." He said, "I can promise you this Sun Wukong. I will find a way to kill you."

"Uh." Wukong said, nervously, unsure how to respond to that. "....Point taken?"

Pigsy wrapped up this whole odd exchange by lightly ruffling Wukong's hair, much to Wukong's confusion, before finally letting go of Wukong's scarf. Wukong immediately leaned back, summoning his cloud, and vanishing. Pigsy sighed.

"Hey Pigsy!" Mei shouted, grabbing his attention. "Aren't you going to join in on the 'MK is Okay' hug?!"

"I'll do you one better." Pigsy said, "I'm going to start the lecture on why MK should never do that again."

"Hey now, there's no need for that-" MK started to say, trying to wiggle out of the hug Mei, Sandy, and Tang had effectively trapped him in, to no avail.

"You will stay, and you will learn to not make us worry like that." Tang said, as he and the others tightened their hold on MK.

"Come on guys, seriously? Do we really need to do this again?" MK asked, already resigning himself to it.

-----------

From a nearby rooftop, Wukong watched MK interact with the others, a sad smile on his face. He was just going to head back to Flower Fruit Mountain, but one part of what Pigsy said to him just kept repeating in his head.

He'd called MK family. And Sandy, and Tang, and Mei. The five of them, they were a family, Wukong was now realizing.

"Family, huh?" He muttered to himself, standing up from his crouched position. "....I don't have that anymore."

Not feeling like intruding on the family any longer, Wukong vanished, teleporting back to Flower Fruit Mountain.

...He hoped the monkeys would be enough to soothe the sudden feeling of loneliness that had washed over him.

---------

The monkeys weren't enough. He was a fool for thinking that they would be, after he had seen MK and the others interacting like that. It just....wasn't the same.

Which was why Wukong found himself sneaking in through the back door of the noodle shop. He wasn't entirely sure what he planned to do here, but he figured he could just figure that out while he did it. Wasn't like there was going to be anyone to see him in here anyways, considering the late hour.

Or at least, there shouldn't be anyone.

Wukong suddenly became aware of the sound of talking from the general eating area of the restaurant. From the voices, he could tell that it was MK and his friends. Drawing a little closer, he peeked around the corner, to see them laughing and smiling, the card game they were playing laid out on the table, forgotten as MK retold the events of the day.

They were still up. Having fun, as a family.

...He shouldn't be here.

Suddenly feeling rather stupid for doing this in the first place, (and really, why had he thought it was a good idea to come back here?), Wukong started slowly backing up, fully intending on leaving as though he was never there.

This was, of course, as fate would have it, the moment his tail happened to move in just the right wrong direction to knock a bowl off a table.

Wukong froze as the bowl shattered, the noise seeming to ring impossibly loud. The voices in the other room went quiet, and he could hear someone slowly get up and walk towards the kitchen and, oh, he should move-

"Monkey King?" MK asked, seeing him. Wukong forced himself to relax, trying to make it seem like he hadn't been about to leave in a panic.

"Hey, kid. How's it going?" He said instead, casually leaning against a table, only the swishing of his tail betraying how kinda nervous he was. MK looked both confused and concerned, and for a moment it seemed like he was going to ask him something, but he was interrupted before he could even begin, by Pigsy yelling;

"Tell that monkey that he'll have to pay for whatever he broke!"

Wukong suddenly became aware at the shards of broken bowl surrounding him. Quickly, he magicked them away, making a motion indicating MK to not say anything about it. MK rolled his eyes in response, but didn't call him out on it, so Wukong considered that a win.

Quietly, he followed MK into the main room of the restaurant.

"Ah, Wukong, care to join the game?" Tang asked when he saw him, holding up a deck of cards. "We only just started, I can still deal you in."

"Uh, sure, I guess." Wukong said, slowly sitting down at the table, picking a seat between MK and Sandy. "What are you playing?"

"Poker." Mei said, and Wukong smirked. Oh, this was going to be fun.

---------

One hour, and multiple warranted accusations of cheating later, Wukong had won the game.

"I am convinced that you cheated." Pigsy said, glaring at Wukong.

"You can't prove anything." Wukong responded, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

"I know, and I hate it." Pigsy sighed, before glancing over at Mei and MK. The two of them had fallen asleep a little while ago, leaning on each other.

"...We should probably get Mei home." Pigsy said, standing up. "Wukong, you can bring MK up to his apartment right?"

"Who do you think I am?" Wukong asked, gently picking MK up. "He weighs but a handful of grapes to me."

Tang snorted at that, but didn't comment on it. Sandy picked up Mei and walked out the door, waving goodbye as he went. Pigsy and Tang started to clean up the table, so Wukong carefully carried MK up the stairs and into his apartment. He put MK down on his bed, transforming his clothes into pajamas as he did so. (Because while Wukong might tend to sleep in whatever he was already wearing, he knew MK always wore pajamas.)

MK stirred a little as Wukong tucked him in.

"Monkie King?" He mumbled, rolling over.

"Shh." Wukong whispered, "Go back to sleep."

"Y'know." MK said, ignoring him, "You should come to family game night more often."

Wukong froze.

"Oh." He said, "This was a. A family thing? Uh. I mean, it was fun but, I probably won't end up coming by again. This was like. A one time thing."

"Aww." MK said, sounding vaguely disappointed. "...You're always welcome to come though."

"Uh huh, sure." Wukong said, trying not to sound as....mentally shaken as he was. "I'll keep that in mind."

MK seemed to accept this answer, as he rolled over and quickly fell back asleep, leaving Wukong by himself with his thoughts. Wukong, figuring that there was no better way to deal with the emotions he was going through right now, climbed out the window and onto the roof, where he started pacing, tail waving back and forth.

What did MK mean by "always welcome"? Did he like, mean it as part of the family, or was he just inviting him to be nice? Surely that was it, right? He was just being nice, or maybe it was just him being sleep deprived!

But what if it wasn't?

...Was Wukong ready to be a part of a family again?

Wukong, caught up in his thoughts, remained ignorant to the passing of time, as he continued to pace back and forth on the roof.

This was how MK found him in the morning.

"...Monkey King?" He asked, making Wukong startle, looking down to see MK standing on the balcony. "What are you doing?"

"Oh! I was just, uh, thinking." Wukong said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. MK narrowed his eyes at him.

"Have you.... been up there all night?"

"Huh?" Wukong looked at the sky, confused, only just now realizing that the sun was rising. "Ah. I uh, lost track of time, I guess."

"So you didn't sleep at all?" MK asked, concerned, as Wukong jumped down from the roof to stand beside him on the balcony.

"Kid, I don't exactly need sleep as often as you do." Wukong snorted, leaning against the balcony rail. "You don't need to worry about me."

"When's the last time you slept?" MK asked, to Wukong's confusion.

"What?"

"When. Was. The last time. You slept." MK asked again, saying it slowly to really drive the question home. "You said you don't sleep 'as often' as me. That implies you still need to sleep. So tell me, when was the last time you slept?"

"I don't see how this is important-"

"If you don't tell me I'll go to Flower Fruit Mountain and ask the monkeys." MK said, summoning his staff, fully ready to follow through on his threat by vaulting to the mountain.

"Okay, okay, fine, you don't need to do that." Wukong sighed, "The last time I slept was....about two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?!" MK practically yelled, making Wukong flinch. "Okay, no, that's it, you're taking a nap, right now-"

"Uh, I don't think that's really necessary-" Wukong started to say, turning to leave, but was stopped by MK grabbing a hold of his scarf and dragging him back into the apartment and oh, Wukong really regretted giving MK super strength now. Even though MK's arm was still injured, the kid had a ridiculous amount of strength and energy.

"Listen," MK said, "I did not sit through 27 lectures from Pigsy and Tang about taking care of myself just to watch another member of my family make the same mistakes I did."

"Another member of your what?" Wukong asked, shock flowing through him, but he was ignored as MK all but threw him onto the couch, pulling blankets out of a closet. He dumped the blankets on top of the Monkey King. Wukong fumbled with the blankets for a moment, finally getting his head free of them, only to be smacked in the face with a pillow MK threw at him.

He, thankfully, managed to dodge the second pillow.

"...Why do you have so many blankets and pillows?" Wukong questioned.

"Me and Mei build blanket forts sometimes." MK said, pulling out the last of the blankets. "Pigsy and Sandy bring up snacks, and Tang will bring up old movies as well. You can join in the next time we build one, but for now, you are going to nap."

Wukong figured that there was no way he was going to be getting out of this situation, so he decided to just accept it, laying down and closing eyes. 

He couldn't sleep though.

MK had just called him family.

....Why? What did Wukong do that could've possibly made MK see him as family?

He didn't understand. He really didn't.

But...something about the idea of being MK's family....just felt right. Like it was meant to happen.

Mind spent from the emotional whirlwind that had been the past 24 hours, Wukong finally fell asleep.

And he dreamt of the games and bonding moments he had with his family from long ago. Somehow, despite missing them, some part of him knew, that he had found a new family with the people he was with now.

[mirahuyooo]

Baby | knj

Baby

—Your daughter had been so sure about one thing. You are Baby. End of discussion. 

Word Count: 1,268 Content/s: FLUFF, drama (super light, extra smol), established relationship, married life, husband and wife au, dad!namjoon is a p r e c i o u s concept & I'm glad we all agree Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

A/N: Hi, hello, idc if I'm posting out of schedule, this would've been a better tribute for Joonie's birthday but I went away and posted the one that's been in the drafts SO hERE I AM, houRS AFTER COOING AND FALLING HEAD OVER HEELS FOR THE CONCEPT OF F U T U R E  D A D to deliver you this short blurb inspired by the stuff i saw on twt 😩👌💕 Hope y'all enjoyed!

[masterlist]

Any couple with a kid would gladly attest to the saying that parenting is no easy feat. The two of you, of course, have found fact in such a statement and have always managed. You, yourself, think you two did a brilliantly decent job raising Luna, your four-turning-five-year-old who had recently donned her big girl shoes on and entered the great unknown—kindergarten.

Now, you don't really know why you've been called in to meet with the teacher instead of doing the usual routine of waiting by the school gates, but you were certain that your sweet, little angel didn't do anything wr—

"What do you mean she got into a fight?"

Your jaw falls slack as you turned to the little girl sheepishly sitting in the chair next to you. An eyebrow of yours raised, waiting for her explanation, but Luna refused to meet with your questioning gaze. "Luna," you call out, soft yet firm so as to not scare her into not speaking a word. 

"Well, Mrs. Kim," the teacher, Ms. Oh, began, catching your attention once more. She brings her hands together over the wooden desk with an awkward smile gracing her features, somewhat unsure of how to properly tell the story itself. "Luna here threw a little fit when one of her classmates, Chunsa, made fun of your name."

The confusion that seizes you knows no limits. "My name?" You incredulously ask. What's wrong with my name?

Ms. Oh glances at Luna for a moment before clearing her throat. "She said that your name was Baby," she tells you, "Chunsa laughed, because she found it funny and proceeded to make fun of it with the others. The fight,  fortunately, was able to be stopped before anyone got hurt."

You could hardly believe your ears. Luna is a reserved girl, always has been, inheriting her father's introverted tendencies and love for books. She has the patience of a saint, too. For her to be like this...

"Baby?" You found yourself muttering aloud. "Why would she—oh..."

Oh no.

A blush stains across your cheeks an unmistakable red, spreading like an unstoppable forest fire except the one that got slain is your will to live. "I," you stammer, scrambling to find an excuse. "It's just that, uhm," you coughed into one hand. "Her, uh, father used to call me... baby before we got married. He still, uh, calls me that to this day. We didn't—"

 You glance at your daughter, who was now looking at you with complete and utter betrayal. All you could muster to give to the both of them was an apologetic smile. "We didn't expect her to do such a thing," you told Ms. Oh in all honesty. 

The silence that hung in the air was killing you mentally, when really you want it done physically so you can be rid of this mortification. Can the ground just swallow you whole please? Thanks. 

To save yourself and your daughter from any more of this agony, you stood up, securing your shoulder bag with one hand before bowing to the young kindergarten teacher, both as an apology and as a farewell. "My husband and I will discuss it later," you solemnly swore, "I promise it won't happen again."

You grabbed Luna's hand, coaxing her to utter a small goodbye with you before taking the two of you out of the school grounds and into the parking lot where you had parked your car. You usher your daughter into her place in the backseat before hopping onto the driver's seat yourself and driving onwards to home. 

As soon as you drove a good distance away from the school, a loud outbreath of relief escapes you, along with a little chuckle for you have been made a clown after that little hooha. Come to think of it, if all the embarrassment could just leave your body right now for even just a damn second, the scene that had just unfolded was hilarious. 

Luna, behind you, however, looks at you with a puzzled expression. Eventually, she speaks up. "Mommy," she slowly began, "did I... did I really do an oopsie?"

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, offering her an assuring smile to ease her guilt. "It's okay, honey," you tell her, "you didn't know. Just don't fight with anyone again, hm? Remember what daddy said?"

Luna nods. "Violence is never the answer," she utters Namjoon's reminders along with you. Still, she fiddles with her fingers. 

"What's your real name then, mommy?"

You beam a smile. "Mommy's name is (Y/N), sweetie," you tell her, "we can try spelling and writing it later if you want."

Your little offer seems to have efficiently lift her mood a little. She nods enthusiastically, but her curious eyes were still swimming with thoughts and questions. "Why does Daddy call you baby then?" She asks.

Nearly but fortunately not so, your grip on the steering wheel loosens as your throat chokes on your spit for a moment. You clear your throat. "Well," you began, scouring your head for a suitable explanation, "it's like a nickname! You know how mommy calls you honey sometimes? Or sweetie? Or, how daddy calls you moonchild?"

Luna nods understandably, getting a grasp onto the concept. "But why does he always call you baby?" She soon asks, not fully satisfied with your initial statement. 

See, now that's not wholly true—but your daughter will have even more questions, so you're gonna have to shut up about that and just go with the hell of it. "Sometimes," you say, "sometimes, it just gets stuck that way, y'know? Like how you'll always call me mommy or eomma, and how you'll always call daddy your daddy or appa."

Luna, for now seemed to have enough. A small 'ah...' leaving her lips, as she resorts to looking out the window for amusement. 

All you could do at that moment was let out yet another outbreath of relief—this time quieter so as not to catch Luna's attention again. Still, your lips tugged upwards. 

Baby, huh? Wait 'til Namjoon hears about this. 

BONUS

"We're home!"

Your voice rings throughout the house, as you lock the door behind you. Luna runs along and into the kitchen, immediately sensing her father was there. 

You enter the premises to see Namjoon ducking down to her height in order to perform their daily kiss on the cheek ritual. He had been at the dining table, coffee in one hand—presumably taking a break from composing. 

Just as you reach the two of them, Luna runs off to play with her dolls, leaving you alone with your husband. You lean down to press a light kiss on his lips, which he greatly welcomes. You sat on the chair next to him, resting your cheek against the palm of your hand. "You can not believe what just happened at school today," You halfheartedly groan, ready to spill some tea. 

Namjoon chuckles, glancing at you as he sips on his mug. "Humor me," he tells you with an encouraging pat on the thigh. 

Though the touch of hand sends shivers down your spine, you carry on with your words. "Luna got in trouble today," you say, "because she genuinely thought my name was baby and her classmates made fun of her for it."

"She what?"

You laugh at the ridiculous expression that seizes Namjoon's face. "Guess how she came to such a conclusion," you mused, eliciting a chuckle from your husband. 

"Hm, yes," he feigns to ponder with a smirk, "I wonder how."

[devendrasbeard]

Only If For A Night

Prompt: They’ve had a few drinks Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier Rating: E Content Warnings: Drunkness, Drunk Kissing, Drunk Confessions Summary:  Eskel is a private driver for a very famous and very successful fashion designer. Having seen the more private side of his boss, he eventually develops feelings for him. One night of drunken confessions can bring a massive change to their professional relationship.

Also on ao3!

"My dear friends, acquaintances, sponsors and clients!" Jaskier's happy voice, amplified by several speakers around the small stage, echoed across the hall. "Thank you for gathering here tonight, so that you'll be the first ones to see, admire, and buy the newest designs from my Dandelions collection!"

A round of applause and excited gasps was heard as a group of androgynous models dressed in wonderfully flowy gowns joined Jaskier on the stage. The clothes were kept in a gender neutral fashion, the fabrics thin as if made of morning mist, but at the same time vibrant with colors, their ethereal vibe contrasted with black hemming at the edges.

"In the next hour the models will be available for you, so that you can get a feel of the clothes, talk about how comfortable of a wear these are. You can even try something on, if the models let you!" Jaskier continued into the microphone. "Just remember - these are real people, not coat hangers! I expect respect towards them and no stepping over any boundaries!"

Eskel stood at the far end of the hall, leaning comfortably against a wall, now and then taking a sip from his glass of water. The day was very hot as for late May, so he was wearing a simple white buttoned up shirt with short sleeves and some black slacks instead of his usual suit ensemble. He loosened the knot in his thin black tie, as he watched Jaskier walk down from the stage and fall into the embrace of his enthusiastic friends.

He liked watching Jaskier, his boss, from afar. Jaskier was fierce, flamboyant and bubbly around his friends, at events, and in front of the media people, but when he thought nobody was looking, his face turned pensive, sometimes even sad. That melancholic, brooding side of Jaskier showed up mostly in the evenings, when the lights went out, his friends went home and it was just him and Eskel driving him home. Eskel liked that side of him.

A few hours into the after party Jaskier approached him, hugging a whole bottle of bourbon to his chest. His cheeks were flushed, blue eyes glistening, his elaborate hairstyle already mussed a little. "Fuck me if this isn't the best collection I've made so far."

Eskel nodded, trying to suppress a chuckle. Whenever Jaskier was tipsy, he forgot about any conventionalities and talked to Eskel as if he was his long time buddy, not his private driver. "It's really good." Eskel admitted. "Need my assistance with anything?"

Jaskier placed a warm palm on Eskel's chest, his bright blue eyes looking up at him. "I wanna go home, my head feels dizzy from all the hugs, fake kisses and congratulations."

"You're sure it's the congratulations and not the bourbon?" Eskel cocked his head, raising a brow in amusement.

"Hey!" Jaskier's long finger was now poking at Eskel's chest. "I pay you to drive me around, not to judge my life's choices."

"Let's go then, I'll drive you home," Eskel nodded and led Jaskier to the door, desperately trying not to wrap a protective arm around his boss' frame.

****

Jaskier ducked his head through the partition divider, resting his chin on his hands. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with Jaskier's flowery cologne hit Eskel's nose. "Do you like me, Eskel?" He whispered, too close to Eskel's ear.

Eskel shot him a quick glance through the rearview mirror, clearing his throat. "How do you mean?"

"Am I likeable?" Jaskier pouted and cocked his head to the side, to lay it on the cold metal frame of the divider. "Do you like me as a person? I know I am trying to be a good boss and I hope you're satisfied with the work you're doing here for me and that I'm not a pain in the ass for making you drive me around... But am I likeable as a person? Can you even look at me as a person and not your boss, slash famous designer?"

Eskel huffed, feeling goosebumps creeping up his neck. So today's drunk Jaskier's mood was philosophical. Through his last year of driving Jaskier around he's seen him in every sorry state - from being awkwardly horny after a hook up gone wrong, through being insanely euphorical and singing at the top of his lungs in the back seat, to being absolutely shit-faced, making Eskel stop the car every five minutes, so that he could get out and barf on the sidewalk.

But Jaskier asking him if Eskel liked him caught him off guard. What was he supposed to say to that? That ever since he started working for him, he wanted to wrap his arms around Jaskier and kiss him so hard he'd forget his own name? That his heart fluttered everytime Jaskier sent him that deep look and loving smile when they accidentally locked eyes in the rearview mirror? That he's been yearning to spend every second of his life with him? That he loved everything about him - his generosity, his laugh, his creative mind? This wasn't Eskel's place, he was just Jaskier's employee, yet he felt compelled to say something. "You're a good person, Jaskier." He tried.

"Then how come that on the day my newest collection premieres..." He stopped, interrupted by a series of hiccups. "Why is that, that people hug me and kiss me and yet..." He plopped dramatically onto the back seat and sighed. "Why am I yet again going home alone?"

Eskel sighed, a feeling of a thousand needles prickling on his skin. He wanted to pull Jaskier up and wrap him in a tight embrace and scream at the top of his lungs that he was there for him, always, forever! Instead he sighed again, turned to Jaskier for a second and asked, "Should I put your fave music on?"

"Yes, please," Jaskier mumbled. "Thank you, Esk."

****

"We're here," Eskel turned to Jaskier after he parked the limo outside of Jaskier's apartment building. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"

Jaskier smiled at him, sitting splayed all over the backseat, his hair a mess and his shirt already halfway open, giving Eskel more than a sneak peek of his thick chest hair and the several necklaces dangling on his torso. Eskel swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry, and then Jaskier leaned forward and whispered, "You can come upstairs with me."

Eskel's eyes widened, a hotness creeping up his neck. It was all he ever wanted, but he felt he shouldn't do it tonight, not with Jaskier in this state of mind. He had to think and be reasonable for them both. "Jaskier... You're drunk and tired, I don't think that's a-" A warm finger on his lips shut him up.

"That bottle of bourbon won't empty itself," Jaskier tried for a seductive smile which turned out pretty wonky, but still managed to tug at Eskel's heartstrings. "C'mon, just one drink? You can probably drive after one drink?"

Eskel huffed, his mind racing and trying to weigh all the pros and cons of the situation he's gotten himself into. Jaskier looked at him with pleading eyes, not saying anything, waiting for Eskel's move. "Okay, one drink."

They got out of the car, Jaskier propping himself up on Eskel's shoulder as they entered the building. "Good morning, Jerome," Jaskier addressed the concierge with a wide smile.

"It's midnight, Mr. Pankratz," the concierge rolled his eyes, the look on his face indicating he's seen Jaskier in this state more than once.

As soon as they got into Jaskier's penthouse, Jaskier moved straight to the alcohol cabinet, leaving Eskel in the middle of the spacious living room. Eskel looked around the place, admiring all the art pieces on the walls and various trinkets scattered around the furniture. But the view from the vast windows was what truly mesmerized him - he moved towards the glass walls, gazing down at the night city, so calm and otherworldly from here.

"Thank you for joining me," Jaskier's voice next to him startled him a little. "I really didn't want to be home alone tonight," he added quietly.

"No problem," Eskel smiled at him, noticing that now besides the bourbon bottle, Jaskier was also nursing a flask of red wine. He held both up for Eskel to choose his drink from. Eskel took the wine bottle and asked, "Should I fetch us some glasses, or do I just chug straight from the bottle?"

Jaskier patted his shoulder lightly, laughing too loud, as if Eskel told a joke, then hiccuped a little. "I'll get us some glasses, you..." he waved towards the sofas and armchairs, "you make yourself comfortable."

Eskel didn't get to sit yet when he heard the sound of breaking glass and a sharp hiss coming from the kitchen. He jumped up, leaving the wine bottle on the table and moved towards Jaskier.

"It's nothing, it's nothing," Jaskier was already kneeling on the floor, clumsily collecting the broken pieces of a wine glass. "Guess everything went too smoothly for me today."

The sigh that left Jaskier's lips sounded more like a broken whimper and Eskel's heart physically hurt at the sight of his famous and successful boss looking so small and pitiful in the middle of his kitchen. He felt like crying. "Leave it, I'll clean it up," he offered. "Maybe you should go to bed, lay down a little?"

Jaskier looked up at him, the gaze of his blue eyes unfocused. He pointed at Eskel with his index finger while standing up. "No, you-... You've promised me that one drink!"

"Fine."

****

Two hours later Eskel knew he wasn't going to make it home that night. The wine bottle in his hands was almost empty, and he felt slightly light-headed and dizzy, but not drunk. Jaskier, on the other hand, was already edging on wasted, his shirt now unbuttoned, cheeks red, his words incoherent and slurry.

"Y'know, I'm fully aware of my... My pre... my pry... My privilege," he blurted out, "but yet I give myself permission to feel miserable from time to time... And now is the day!" he gestured with his hand, in which he held the bourbon bottle, spilling a little on the table.

"Okay, I'll take this," Eskel grabbed the bottle from him as Jaskier plopped back onto the sofa.

"How do you know who's your friend?" Jaskier asked, his gaze focused on the ceiling as if he was trying to find an answer there. "People hug me and kiss me and invite themselves into... Into my life and then what? They want free stuff, they want contacts with my famous friends, they want..." He stopped and looked over at Eskel, his blue eyes sad and pleading, as if he waited for Eskel to give him a solution.

"Look for those who stick around when the lights go out, when the party's over... For-for those who ask you how you feel and not what you can give to them." He felt the hotness of embarrassment creep up his neck, his ears turning red. He was talking about himself and he only gave himself permission to do so because Jaskier was drunk and wouldn't remember it the next day.

"That's... wise," Jaskier nodded and reached out with his hand to pat Eskel's cheek. Then his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to remember something important. "You never asked me for anything."

Eskel cleared his throat, and turned his face away from Jaskier, to hide his unease. "I'm... I'm fine. I'm happy with my job."

"Yeah? What do you do for a living?" Jaskier asked.

That caused Eskel to chuckle, and Jaskier followed with his pearly laugh, although he didn't know what was going on, and in a moment they were both laughing loudly and snickering like children. Jaskier patted Eskel's knee several times before leaning back onto the sofa.

"Jaskier, I work for you. I drive you around, remember?" Eskel said, wiping tears of mirth from the corner of his eye.

"Right." Jaskier nodded. "I hope I pay you well."

"You're a good boss," Eskel smiled. They locked eyes for a long moment, not saying anything. Jaskier licked his lips subconsciously and Eskel had to look away, the sight causing a warm feeling to coil in his stomach. "Alright, boss, time to get you to bed," he cleared his throat. "I'll crash on the couch if you don't mind, can't really drive now."

"Oh no no, no sleepin' on couches in my house! I have guest rooms for guests!" Jaskier stood up abruptly, too quickly for the drunken state he was in. His foot kicked the table leg and he wobbled a little, losing his balance.

He landed in Eskel's lap, Eskel instinctively putting a protective arm over him to save him from falling over and onto his back. Jaskier grabbed Eskel's shoulder for balance and suddenly their faces were incredibly close. So close Eskel could smell Jaskier's cologne, now suppressed by the tangy scent of bourbon. He was so close that Eskel could see those tiny crows feet forming at the corners of Jaskier's eyes, he could notice his flared nostrils and the wet shimmer on his lips. He swallowed audibly.

"Whoo, that was close. Thank-... Thank you," Jaskier laughed lightly and squeezed his shoulder. In a silent reply, Eskel caressed Jaskier's back gently, so delicately as if he didn't want Jaskier to feel it. But apparently Jaskier did, because he leaned forward and pressed a soft butterfly kiss to Eskel's lips. He pulled away and looked Eskel deep in the eyes, while undoing his tie. "Could you... Can you, just for tonight, forget that I'm your boss?" he asked quietly.

Eskel looked at him wide eyed, frozen in place and unable to speak. But when Jaskier gave his tie one last slight tug, he was lost. He's been waiting for that little sign, for a nod of permission, and as soon as he got it, he launched forward, pushing Jaskier off his knees and pressing him down onto the sofa with his weight.

He kissed him, reluctantly at first, but when Jaskier let out the first quiet whimper of pleasure, Eskel was all lost on him. He pressed his lips to Jaskier's, with his eyes closed, trying to put into that kiss all that yearning and longing he'd felt for Jaskier for months.

Jaskier was under him, sighing and panting, arching into Eskel’s touch. Responding to every kiss with passion. Eskel moaned into Jaskier's mouth as his hands roamed under his already open shirt, caressing the soft skin on Jaskier's sides, skimming over his chest hair and slightly tugging at the multiple necklaces on his neck.

Jaskier sat up and fumbled with the buttons on Eskel's shirt, his now clumsy fingers too uncoordinated to undo them. He tugged desperately at the shirt, causing two buttons to pop off and fall to the floor. They both looked at them, Jaskier with a hint of embarrassment, Eskel amazed with Jaskier's strength. Jaskier pulled at Eskel's shirt and dragged him into another heated kiss. "Off! Just take that shirt off," he demanded between kisses.

As he stripped off of his shirt, Eskel noticed how Jaskier's eyes glistened and how he licked his lips lusciously, before launching himself at Eskel. He peppered his face, neck and chest with kisses, murmuring "You're beautiful" and "I love you so much" between kisses, making Eskel writhe with pleasure and whine with emotions, because he so wanted Jaskier to mean it.

"Can I take you to the bedroom?" Jaskier asked while tugging at the waistband of Eskel's slacks. "God, why is the belt so complicated?" He threw his hands up losing his balance and landing on the floor. Eskel reached out to help him up, only to be dragged down to the floor right next to Jaskier.

"Okay, bedroom it is," he laughed into Jaskier's mouth, who already managed to slot their lips in another heated kiss.

****

Eskel woke up with his head feeling very heavy, his mouth dry as if he'd eaten sand. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, taking in the situation. He was naked, with only the bedsheets tangled around his legs. Jaskier was sleeping next to him, lying on his stomach, one hand draped comfortably around Eskel's waist. He was equally naked, his perky ass sticking out from under the covers.

Eskel watched him mesmerized, noticed how beautifully lean and supple Jaskier's body was, he watched how he moved slightly with every breath... And then tiny bits of memories of last night hit him like a wave. He remembered the passionate kisses Jaskier showered him with, how unbelievably soft and pliant Jaskier's body was under his touch, he recalled the weight of Jaskier's cock on his tongue and how wonderfully he moaned Eskel's name with his hand tangled in Eskel's hair...

One part of him wanted to leave before Jaskier would wake up, spare him the awkwardness of a morning after. They never planned on something like that, after all they were boss and employee, they just let alcohol get the best of them. The other part of Eskel wanted to stay, to savour the moment of absolute intimacy and vulnerability between them. That other part wanted all this drunken mishap to turn into something more than just a one night stand.

Then Jaskier stirred next to him, waking up, pulled himself closer to Eskel's chest and murmured a soft "Good morning." He sat up, dragging one hand through his disheveled hair, taking in the sight of their naked bodies. "So... I guess last night ended up better than expected?" He shot Eskel an embarrassed smile. "Did we... You know. Go all the way?"

"I honestly don't know," Eskel admitted sheepishly, pulling the bedsheets up to cover the both of them. "Are you okay, Jaskier? You didn't go easy on the bourbon last night."

"I'm fine," Jaskier waved him off, but his eyes narrowed and he worried his lower lip and Eskel knew he was trying to recall what happened last night. "I hope I didn't take advantage of you?"

"Everything I did, I did because I wanted to," Eskel said firmly, though he felt the hotness on his cheeks and ears at the memory of their naked bodies tangled together and Jaskier moaning so sweetly into his ear.

"Yeah?" Jaskier scooted even closer to him under the bedsheets. "Care to remind me what did you actually do?"

Eskel exhaled deeply, feeling Jaskier's hot breath on his neck, making his own skin feel too tight. The memory of Jaskier's body arched beautifully under Eskel's touch flashed before his eyes, and he cleared his throat. "I'm... I'm pretty sure I sucked you off."

"Oh." Jaskier's face was painted with astonishment, but only for a moment. In the next he was already straddling Eskel's lap, braiding his fingers in his dark hair, looking him deep in the eye. "I think it's only fair if I return the favour now?"

Before Jaskier moved down on him, Eskel grabbed his hands and made Jaskier face him. "Listen..." he started, mouth extremely dry, more of nervousness than hangover. "You said some very weighty things to me yesterday, that I really wished were true... But I know this could be just the alcohol's doing." He huffed, pressing his eyes shut. "If it's not what you meant, or how you feel about me, I'd rather leave now."

Jaskier sighed, deeply, but he didn't lower his gaze. He intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss on the top of Eskel's palm. "I remember one thing vividly from last night," he said. "And that is feeling loved and wanting to give as much love as possible back." He kissed the fingers on Eskel's hand. "If you felt the same, I'd rather you stayed. Forever, if possible?"

------

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

[g0ldengubler]

chapter 6~life is a “high” way

(*i do not own this gif*)

A/N: this chapter is honestly one of personal favs because we get to see more of spencer feeling more confident in himself in a way while still being him and it’s just aaaaa :’) tomorrow you will get chapter 7 but then after that, expect chapters to come out a bit slower, including requests (which i am working on currently and thank you so much for sending them my way!). lots of my focus needs to be on my personal life but writing helps me get through all of that hell, so i’m in a very wishy washy position lol. thank you so much for the love on nauseous i love uuuuuu

Category: fluff w smut at the end

CW: road head, d/s dynamic, daddy kink

Word Count: 3282

before you read | last chapter | next chapter (coming soon!*)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer parks in front of your apartment building and stays in his seat as you get out. You both had decided that packing up right away and not going to lunch was better. That way, you can learn more about each other on the way there. You couldn't wait to get inside that smarty-pants brain of his and find out what's really going on in there.

You shut the car door and start walking, but stop when you don't hear his footsteps behind you. When you walk back to the car, you see Spencer sticking his battery in the cigarette lighter to charge.

"You're more than welcome to come in, y'know." You chuckled.

Spencer looks up at you, licking his lips as he moves some of his hair behind his ear. "It's ok, I don't want to bother."

"You won't be a bother. I've been to yours, now you can come into mine."

"Oh, so that's how that works huh? You have to go into the guys apartment before the guy goes to yours?" Spencer said sarcastically.

"You know what I mean!" You pull open the car and grab his hand, "C'mon, Spence. You'll be fine!"

He giggles under his breath and comes out of the car. After locking it, the two of you head inside and up the elevator to the 4th floor. Once at your door, you unlock it and open up to 4 paws jumping onto you. You hear Spencer gasp in surprise and giggle at his reaction, making it seem like you were giggling at your two buddies. Sitting on your old couch was your next door neighbor, Seth, who was watching Pose on the tv.

"Thank you again for watching the boys while I was gone. I really owe you big time for doing this." you say as you get up from the floor.

Seth gets off of the couch and walks up to you to give you a hug. "Anytime! If anything, they can stay at my place when you go on a case-" He stops and looks over at Spencer, standing awkwardly by the door still and letting the dogs sniff him, "Although, it seems like this new case was a success."

"Shut up, Seth!" You giggle, lightly slapping him on the arm. Realizing you forgot your manners, you quickly try to take it back. "Seth, meet Dr.Spencer Reid. Doc, meet my neighbor, Seth."

Seth reached his hand out to shake, but Spencer politely denies. "Sorry, I-I don't shake hands. It's actually been proven that it's safer to kiss." You catch Seth's eyes looking him up and down. "Seth stop teasing him like that!" You laugh. Spencer wasn't into guys, but somehow Seth looking at him made you a little jealous. You're not even dating the man, y/n shut up, you think to yourself.

"You and I will talk later." He says.

"Oh, Spence! These are my babies. The scottie is Benedict and the husky is Draco."

The room went silent for a moment, Spencer trying to hold in a chuckle. "Yes, I did name them after Benedict Cumberbatch and Draco Malfoy. I've had them picked out since I was a teenager, don't judge."

"Oh c'mon hun," said Seth, "it's adorable that you named them the way you did."

"It is," Spencer spoke, "I didn't depict you as a nerd."

"Oh my god, you kidding? She's probably the biggest nerd I've ever met with all her Sherlock and other crime shows, Harry Potter, Doctor Wh-"

"Ok, I think he gets it Seth!" You cut him off. That was enough embarrassment for today.

"I will say, Benedict or Tom Felton could always come my way."

You slap him on the arm again laughing. You look back at Spencer, who was awkwardly chuckling along with. You then announce that you were going to get in the shower. "Seth, can you take them for a few more nights? We're going up to my dad's cabin back home for the weekend. Also, when I get out and do my makeup, you promised me that you would tell me how your date went last night with 'Mr.Perfect' as you said it."

"Bitch I have ALLLLLL the tea that I'm not missing on spilling!"

"Good. Now you two get along. And Spence," He looks up at you, his hazel eyes looking into you...

"Don't miss me too much, hm?"

Then you walked into your bathroom, trying to wrap your brain on the fact that you just said that to him.

                           ~Spencer's POV~ I can't believe she said that.

She left me here a little turned on. I could start feeling my pants getting tight and had to put my bag over myself as I sat on the couch so then I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of Seth. I looked around her apartment to distract myself of thoughts of being in the shower with her. She had a very interesting aesthetic. Walls white with old picture frames that had beautifully taken old photos in them. The lamps that were in the living room looked like they were from the 70's, old gold coating chipped off at some parts of the stand. While there was a vintage look to her place, it was also very modern at the same time, a minimalistic look took over her kitchen. She had a fake vine hanging from the wall behind her tv, some of it covering her maroon record player. In some ways, our aesthetics were similar. If she had a bookcase in here, I'd feel like I was at my place.

Seth and I began to get to know each other. I came to find out that Seth worked as a bartender at a club, and he enjoyed taking photos for his social media. "I would love to be a photographer," he said, "but right now it's just a hobby that I do mostly during the colder months." He says cold, cloudy days (especially if it's raining) were the best times to take photos, in his opinion.

"So," he says, "you work with y/n at the BAU?"

"Yeah, we've really become good friends in the past 9 days. It's like we've known each other for years. Plus, she's great out on the field. She's definitely someone myself and the rest of the team will never take for granted."

"Thank god," Seth said as I heard the water turn off, "She told me that it was her dream to be a part of the BAU. She would never stop talking about it when she was in college."

"Hm, she never mentioned that to me."

"Well, let her tell you on your way to the cabin. She'll love it."

After a little bit more conversation, y/n came back to the living room. Her hair was damp, not fully wet but not dry either. She had thrown on a white turtle neck shirt with a brown sweater vest over it. She matched it with darker brown corduroy pants, cuffing the bottoms. In her hands was what looked like to be her makeup bag. She sat down in front of the mirror that was in the corner on the left side of the tv (when you look at the tv), beginning the process.

Seth and y/n talk about his date from last night and got pretty detailed about it. He talked about how the man took him to a gay bar that was a few blocks from here, and how they danced and drank the night away. "Oh and then get this," says Seth, "we're pretty drunk at this point, right? Well at one point, the local queen that performed came up to me and tried to flirt and shit, thinking she was all that and a bag of lashes, and he saw how uncomfortable I was and stood up for me. And let me tell you, he was REA-DY to throw hands!"

"Stooooop he's literally a keeper!" y/n says.

Once she was done with her makeup, she gets up and goes back to her room, coming back out with her luggage. She goes over to the door to grab a pair of Vans and comes back to tell Seth and her children goodbye.

"I'll be back in a few days. Thanks again, Seth. I really-"

"Owe me one, I know I know!" Seth cuts her off, "Now go have some fun and relax, you need to after working so damn hard for this job!" He turns to me and waves. "And it was very nice meeting you, Doctor."

"It was nice to meet you, too! But please, you can just call me Spencer."

Seth smiles as we walk out the door. What this trip will bring? For once, I'm letting fate take the lead instead of science.

~Y'N's POV~ It had been about a few hours of being on the road. At this point, you were somewhere in Pennsylvania, but not sure if you were close enough to Philly to grab a cheesesteak. You think back to the start of the drive. You suggested that you'd be the dj because your library on spotify had a full range of genres with some songs you had no clue were in there. "It'd be a fun little journey!" You told Spencer. And that it was, a journey.

You ended up driving right by a dispensary before even leaving DC. Garcia told you that that's where she gets her stuff, but knowing that bringing a lot of weed across the country wouldn't be a fun trip, you two decided to go with the original plan and just wait till you get to Michigan.

You could tell Spencer was getting a kick out of your music library. While majority of the songs he didn't know, he was still being goofy and jamming out along with you, trying to match the same energy you were having. The songs that talked about sex, drugs, and/or alcohol surprised him every time, his jaw dropping or his eyes bulging out of his head as he listened to the lyrics. You couldn't help yourself but laugh at his reactions, which would make him laugh along with you.

You two weren't alone, however. You were pretty much sucking down on the carts you still had, although you both made a deal that whoever was driving could only get a little high if they wanted to, drinking plenty of water and eating snacks to sober you up a bit if needed.

Driving through Pennsylvania, you look out the window and onto the scenery around you. You weren't paying attention, however, because you couldn't stop the dirty thoughts that intruded your mind. You couldn't help to think about giving him head, since you hadn't done it yet because both times he gave you all the pleasure. You couldn't wait to get to the cabin and go straight to your knees for him. Suddenly, you tried to get them out of your head. 'You're getting way too excited, y/n. STOP IT!' you thought to yourself.

You decided to just feel everything around you, taking a few more hits from your pen before taking it in. Nineteen by Movements was playing; it was like you could feel the song itself and everything about it as you looked up at the very tall street lamps passing by. Nothing felt better than this moment. Just you and Spencer out on the open road. It felt like nothing could stop you two. You felt free, but you also felt safe and complete, something you haven't felt in a long time.

At one point, you couldn't take it anymore. It was 2:30am and Spencer was still driving. He told you to get some sleep but you weren't sleepy or tired at all. You tried to feel free but when you did, you thought of Spencer, which led to dirty thoughts. It was like you couldn't escape it, and every time the thoughts came, you couldn't help but secretly rub your thighs together for some kind of friction.

As you tried to get the thoughts out of your head, you look over to see a nice little surprise. The passing lights outside helping you see, you noticed the bulge in Spencer's pants. How in the hell would he be getting hard now of all times? Were dirty thoughts intruding his mind, too? Seeing that made you even more wet than you already were. This was your chance.

You look out to the open road in front of you, and gently graced your fingers across his bulge. You look out the corner of your eye...nothing. Not even a flinch. 'Playing hard to get, hm?' You thought to yourself. So you did it again, which made him shift in his seat a little, still pretending he didn't notice anything. Finally, with some kind of courage that you never knew you had, you grabbed his cock through his pants and slowly started to stroke it. His eyes came out of his head, letting out a small gasp.

"You know I'm driving, right?" He asked, "We could crash if I'm paying attention more to this and not on the road."

You give him a smirk, "It's almost 3am," you begin to say, but then you notice that you're the only car on the road, "and no one else is on the road right now."

You start to undo his belt with your one hand. "You pleasured me twice already," you continue, your hand successfully undoing the belt and undoing the zipper on his pants, reaching inside to pull out his already, fully hard cock, "I need to show my thanks somehow, don't I?"

Spencer shifts in his seat, keeping his eyes out on the road. You were kind of hoping he was looking for somewhere to pull over, but you wouldn't mind doing it as he drove. "You...you already did...b-by inviting me to your dad's cabin."

You stopped stroking and he almost let out a whimper. "I saw that bulge in your pants just a few minutes ago, are you suuuurree you don't want to...daddy?"

Just hearing the word 'daddy' made him grab your hair tightly. You smiled as you shifted your position in your seat to go down on him. When you were ready, Spencer stopped at a red light and pulled your face close to his, lips almost ghosting each other.

"You better make daddy feel good then, since you're being such a fucking brat right now." He whispered as you continued to slowly stroke him again.

You couldn't even react to what he said because once the light turned green, he guided your head down to his cock before letting the tightness on your head go and letting his hand rest on top. You decided to egg on your bratty-ness by teasing the tip, giving him kitty licks at first and then slowly just running your tongue in it, licking up the pre cum.

Spencer tightens his grip again, making you whimper. "I'm not sure doing that is a good idea, angel. Do you want to get punished once we're there?"

You shook your head no, but the thought of him punishing you made you feel yourself drip between your thighs.

Spencer moves his grip from your hair and slaps your ass with a huge SMACK, which made you moan loudly.  "You have to use your words, angel. Unless you want to be a little slut tonight."

You look up at him to see his eyes were still on the road. You smirk as you pump him a few times before taking his head in your mouth. You bob up and down slowly, hearing him grunt and curse under his breath. You step it up by going down a little lower, each time going back up and then going lower until you had all of him in your mouth. You stayed like that for a few moments, gagging on it.

"Oh fuuuck that's it...that's it baby, take my cock in your mouth, just like that." He says before pulling you off to let you breathe. He's quiet for a moment before he says, "Now I'm going to guide you, angel. You're gonna make daddy feel more good than he already was, got it?"

"Yes, daddy." you answer, knowing that he wanted to hear you say again.

He pushes your head back on his cock, moving you head faster than before. He couldn't get enough it, making you gag every so often and pulling you back up. Spencer's cock twitched in your mouth and you knew he was close. He controls your head faster, his rhythm getting sloppy.

"You want me to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, angel? You want daddy's cum?" He growled, trying not to thrust into your mouth as he continues to drive.

"Mhmm!" You moan, which almost made him go over the edge.

"Keep doing that for daddy, moan for me. God, I bet you just love having my cock in your mouth, but I'm sure you're just desperate for my cum."

You moan again. That you were. You wanted his cum so bad in your mouth so you could taste him; taste how good you made him feel.

"Don't...fuck...don't stop doing that, angel...that's it...fuck I'm gonna cum..."

And with that, you feel his cum shoot inside your mouth, letting out moans and cursing. You slowly continued to suck him, getting every last drop. When you did, you move up to face Spencer as he pulled over, showing his cum in your mouth at first and then closing your mouth to swallow and open back up to show him it was gone. The look in his eyes told you that that was the hottest thing he's ever seen.

Spencer pulls you in surprisingly and attacks your lips with his, as if he was hungry for them. He was almost eating your face but you didn't care, you kissed him back and let your tongues play with one another. You both pull away after a bit and he just looks into your eyes. You look into his hazel eyes and felt complete.

"Now, will you stop being a brat and get some sleep?" He asks.

You giggle as you quickly look at the time in the car radio. "It's 3:15," you said, "it's my turn to drive."

"But now you're all tired from pleasing daddy," he jokes, "so you get some sleep, and I'll drive. I really don't mind it. Honest."

"Are you sure?"

Spencer nods his head. You decided to give in and get comfy in your seat.

"Goodnight, Spence." You say as you move the top part of the seat all the way back. You grabbed your traveling pillow and placed it on top of your right arm, laying your head as you turned your body to face away from him.

"Goodnight, angel."