#i most have found twenty or thirty of them in a single night tonight

[ottogatto]

who knew that the apartment i moved in was also called

~Cockroach Land~

COCKROACHES COCKROACHES COCKROACHES COCKROACHES COCKROACHES

[itgetsdark-x]

Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror. 

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill. 

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink. 

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music. 

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence. 

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed. 

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed. 

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.” 

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him. 

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear. 

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled. 

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction. 

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming. 

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch. 

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel. 

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered. 

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly. 

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed. 

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left. 

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric. 

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down. 

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed. 

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. 

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat. 

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction. 

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend. 

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly. 

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt. 

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch. 

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth. 

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further. 

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth. 

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum. 

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him. 

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear. 

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry. 

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more. 

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer. 

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck. 

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel. 

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body. 

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space. 

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots. 

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation. 

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you. 

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed. 

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb. 

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour. 

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed. 

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it. 

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him. 

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him. 

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips. 

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed. 

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question. 

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth. 

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster. 

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva. 

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric. 

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male. 

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock. 

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease. 

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure. 

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed. 

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close. 

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest. 

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise. 

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised. 

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment. 

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel. 

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving. 

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated. 

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him. 

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently. 

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows. 

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself. 

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs. 

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you. 

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly. 

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most. 

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy. 

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will. 

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more. 

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure. 

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly. 

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound. 

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them. 

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits. 

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm. 

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you. 

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below. 

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male. 

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm. 

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage. 

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you. 

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand. 

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up. 

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head. 

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy. 

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly. 

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy. 

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes. 

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body. 

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance. 

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour. 

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more. 

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you. 

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered. 

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days. 

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you. 

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively. 

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply. 

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you. 

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust. 

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek. 

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess. 

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made. 

-

-

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

[sips-tea-cutely]

Dance with You Tonight

includes: ugly old people haters, gn!reader, the zubayr theater is woke af, no beta we die like kavehs dad

having cyno as your boyfriend is quite the bummer, having to always sleep alone while he scouts around the desert, searching for the latest wanted criminal, not to mention how hard it is to catch him in the morning as well! the only trace of his presence is the torn paper on the dining table

“Why did the sea sponge wake up early everyday?

To get the ‘moist’ out of everyday.

In case you didn’t understand— moist sounds like most. and sea sponges come from the ocean which makes it moist.

I’m quite sure I’ll be able to come back early for dinner, but if I don’t come, don’t wait up for me (that is if you aren’t gonna be busy practicing). I love you, dear

, Cyno”

it’s just surprising how cyno can come up with a new pun everyday. giggling at his note, you put it back on the table, before getting yourself ready and heading to the grand bazaar.

“mx. s/o, you’re here!” nilou spoke as she made her way towards you. “nilou! alright… are we going to continue our practice from where we stopped last night or from the start again?” you asked as you left your belongings with the prop masters. “oh! hmm.. let’s start from the top so that we don’t forget it” nilou concluded as she went into position.

the zubayr theater had been working on a performance honoring the late goddess of flowers, lesser lord kusanali’s dear friend from before the archon war. as the two main performers of the theater, the two of you were obviously the main choices to play them, nilou as lesser lord kusanali and you as the god(dess) of flowers.

practice had gone for hours into the night, both you and nilou dancing and acting with grace as co-performers, acting as other minor gods clapped and sang along to your dance of sabzeruz. even if it was acting, it hadn’t felt like it, the fun and cheer of your friends being as genuine as the beautiful purple hue of the padisarahs made by the crew.

from the floor, excited friends of the performers watched the practice; mr zubayr, inayah and her father, tighnari, and even cyno has snuck some time to get a sneak peak of your hard work!

it truly was wonderful. even though it was just a rehearsal, no costumes or backdrops, it already felt like he was back in time, thousands of years ago, spectating the birthday of buer; the way your legs spun you in circles, the way your hands flowed with the light spotlighting you, even the very way your hair cascaded and lightly followed your every spin and step took his breath away, as if the true god of flowers had resurrected and guided your body’s movements to create a breathtaking performance— actually not only him, the way your every move glided, kept the audience breathless, excited for the true performance tomorrow.

that is, until five men in akademiya uniform had found out about the performance. they stood beside the other people watching, almost all in their late twenties or early thirties, besides one being around the age of 46 or so. it seems they’re supporters of azar from during the experimentation “we’ve heard that your theater troupe is preparing a performance to honor lesser lord kusanali.” the ringleader said, his eyes glaring to meet every single person in the cast, his voice laced with mockery and judgement. “don’t you fools remember of how grand sage azar had banned performing arts? this is an illegal performance!” one of his goons yelled.

mr. zubayr has foreseen this and already stated his argument to the hecklers. “you idiot! do you seriously not remember the prohibition act?! it says— ‘all public performances in sumeru city are not allowed, guards are to immediately stop the performance and take them into custody.’” he recited word for word. he waited for mr. zubayr’s response before he had spotted cyno, pointing his finger at him “there! general mahamatra cyno knows every rule word for word! general, please shut this down right now.” the elder man kindly asked whilst smiling, thinking that he had won. “yes… you are right, although, i remember hearing from mr. sharif that intellectual performances were allowed, correct, sir?” he looked over to inayah’s father as he nodded in agreement.

“this performance is detailing the sabzeruz festival, the birthday of our archon— as well as the creation of the padisarah. history is intellectual in my opinion. in fact, isn’t the vahumana darshan dedicated to history and social sciences? which would mean that this performance could pass as intellectually-stimulating.” he sighed out.

“yes..! as the mahamatra said, the akademiya has its’ very own darshan for history, which is, in fact, what this play is about!” mr zubayr smugly agreed with cyno, he totally knew that, cyno just beat him to it y’know?

the scholars stood stunned, trying to find a new ground to argue with. “yes, well the act still stated that ALL public performances be banned. you can’t even say that it isn’t valid, because the acting grand sage hasn’t even thought to revoke that act!”

“that is true… why hasn’t alhaitham revoked that yet… anyways, none of the corps of thirty had actually seen it either since it was overridden by the information that the lesser lord had broken out of the sanctuary of surasthana, and it seems like they still don’t know even until the akasha had been turned off.” cyno replied, his patience running thin with how this know-it-all tried to debate with the general mahamatra, seriously��� the five stood dumbfounded and embarrassed, the eldest’s face as red as fire. he whispered to the other four as they move back in the path to the akademiya, perhaps to find more rules to have the theater banned.

cyno pouted in annoyance as he walked towards the foot of the stage. “it’s already midnight, i think you all deserve a break, right? the zubayr theater works too hard…” he said as he shooed the members to grab and drink and go home. mr. zubayr tapped cyno by the shoulder. “mr. cyno, i’d like to thank you on behalf of the troupe… if it weren’t for your intervention, i fear those scholars would’ve stood corrected and try to close the theater like before…”

“sir, it wasn’t a problem, really…” his eyes downcast in thought. “the theater is a home to my friend and my partner, i’ve heard so many wonderful memories that happened here, it’d be a shame if all of that were to just go away.” he shrugged, cyno’s hands trying to grab you and bring you to the concrete “cyno, if i fall and get a head injury, i’m going to take away your casket of tombs” you jokingly threaten your boyfriend as he finally let go of your fingers, leaping down the stairs to meet him where he waited. mr. zubayr laughed at your childish threats with cyno. “even so, thank you, cyno for saving the theater” he nodded with gratefulness as he went to the stage to help contain the paper decorations in preparation for the performance tomorrow.

cyno intertwined his fingers with your’s before wrapping his arm around your waist to bring you closer as you started your walk home. “y’know, your dance was amazing awhile ago. i know you didn’t get to finish final rehearsal because of them… but it was still amazing, love. would you mind showing me the full dance it in all its’ glory later before we sleep?” he smirked as you laughed and shook your head no “my dear, i’m all danced out tonight, i can’t stand anymore!”

the oh-so scary general frowned in dismay “not even for me? after the note i wrote for you this morning too..?” he pouted satirically. “nope! if you wanna see it so bad, you have to buy a ticket~” you shrugged and grinned cheekily. cyno sighed sadily “shame… i would’ve danced with you tonight too.”

[situationandmetropolitan]

About Timing

Divine timing, divine timing, timing. It seems to be a key phrase that constantly shows up on my feeds.

Timing is a tricky thing, once you believe in it, it suggests that you believe the universe is more than just a clusterfuck of chaos, instead there are plans, reasons, and meant-to-be's. So here I am, a contradictory cynical hopeless romantic, wondering are all the mishaps, the one-that-got-aways, the wrong words I blurted out, are all of those somehow part of a bigger picture destined for me, or am i just looking for silver linings for my poor luck and poor behavior.

I had this cliche rom-com trope-y moment, where I was coming back home with my groceries, a sudden relief bestowed upon me. Out of a whim, I bought all of the purple camellias from the flower stall that I've walked past thousand times. For a moment, it was all purple, my flower, my hair, my Spoify playlists in my ears. Suddenly I felt everything will be ok. Feeling light as a feather, skipping my way home, thinking, everything will be ok. No longer than 2 seconds later, the rain started to pouring down, and of course, I didn't bring my umbrella. Right at this moment, Mitski started singing in my ears :"I give it up to you, I surrender." Oh the irony.

Which brings me back to last Friday night.

Timing is a tricky thing. Sometimes you feel the string pulling you like a puppet, made you do things you weren't planning to do, but sometimes when you ask for it, it's no where to be found.

Last Friday night I went out with my friend for dinner and drinks. It was supposed to be just us two girls, chill, nothing extra, I didn't even wash my hair for it. But before I head out, somehow I felt like I should fix my hair, which led me to be 10 minutes late. My period suddenly arrived after dessert, it was almost 11pm, I was so unprepared for it I had to ask the waitress to borrow me a pad. "This night is ruined," I thought to myself. "Well, I was gonna say I could stay at yours tonight with you, and you could just give me your keys if you end up going back with someone hot, but looks like you're not going anywhere tonight." My friend laughed at me. Right, as if it's remotely possible for me to get lucky on a night out. No good-looking normal person ever showed me interest in bars or clubs, like, ever. I had already accepted my fate of all my night outs are just gonna be girly fun.

We ended up at this nightclub later that night, it's one of the most popular spot in town, and was overflowed with early twenty-somethings that night. But me and my friend, single women in our early thirties, didn't care. We're not here for men, we're here just for some dancing and a good time. However I couldn't say I didn't have a wandering eye, checking boys out. So I definitely had seen him before I ended up in his corner unintentionally.

At one point, my friend was going to the restroom, leaving me with her drink. I didn't want anything to happen in the crowded room, so I stumbled my way to a bar stool in the far back, putting down both of our drinks. Some white girl suddenly pushed me to further back, and shook her hair into my face. That's when I locked eyes with him, for the sake of storytelling, let's call him Golden Boy. He was standing at the same bar stool, talking with his friend. I made a icked face when the white girl's hair was all over my personal space, he laughed.

"You Chinese?", he asked. "Yeah." I answered, "what about you?", politely continuing the conversation. Then we get started talking, he told me about his background, how's my English so good, how did I find the club, and compared night life of Shanghai and this city, he flaunted some Mandarine Chinese. He asked me my Chinese name, and what does it mean. "Well apparently it means wise and beautiful." He laughed. "Where did you get your tattoos?", he grabbed my arm and asked. "Shanghai, Shanghai, Tokyo. I designed all of them." "Wow that's impressive!", " Told you, smart and pretty." I started to get a bit flirty. He laughed, he's got this gorgeous laugh.

By this time my friend had came back, Sabrina Carpenter's Espresso had just came on. "Let's go dancing!" He suggested, grabbed my hands. We got closer, and closer, and closer, until there's no distance between us, lips locked. I'm pretty sure I heard a "whooo!" from the crowd surrounding us. The kiss was incredible, his hands in my hair, shows just the right amount of desire.

After one more round of drink, my friend wanted to go outside and have a cigarette, we decided to go together. Before we left, there's this guy who just came into the club with two other girls. He tapped Golden Boy's shoulder, said "Hey, my friend here...", I don't know what came over me, I had never done this to someone I just met before, i grabbed his waist, he sensed it, then wrapped his arm around my neck, hand in my hair, and kissed me again. Swoon.

On our elevator ride down, I noticed his watch. I don't normally know a lot about luxury watches, but it just so happens I was doing a pitch proposal for the brand hours ago. I made a comment on it, he seemed to be a little bit embarrassed. Under the fluorescent elevator light, was the first time I truly noticed how pretty he is. Fluffy curly hair falling into all the right places, dark eyebrows and kind puppy eyes pulled me in deeper and deeper, rose colored lips, the ones I had just claimed are so soft and flushed. With all the dark features, but he just glows.

When my friend, his friend, and him shared a cigarette, I noticed his rings. It seemed like he was designed for me, tall, dark features, handsome, tasteful, stylish, gentleman, multi-cultural background, witty, and just oh so pretty. Not to sound creepy, but his face just tickles all the right parts of the folds of my brain, even thinking back, my brain lit up like a Christmas tree, no, like the night sky of the 4th of July.

We kept on flirting all night, back and forth. Somehow made it into the next nightclub. After I made sure everyone's ok, I letted out my frustration, "why am I such a mom??", "It's probably because you're a nice person." He said.

In the next club, the dancing got more steaming, the moves got more intimate. I felt his hands on my bare waist, noticeably rough, I wonder what could've happened for a boy who clearly grew up with silver spoon to have such rough hands. His arms wrapped me closer and closer, his hands were testing the boundaries. When we were sharing another passionate kiss, he whispered in my ears, "Do you wanna come back to mine?". That's when I died a little inside. Fuck, I can't, WHY OH WHY DID I HAVE TO GET MY PERIOD LITERALLY 3 HOURS AGO???. I have always been a straightforward person, but I'm not about to be so blunt right of the bat. "I don't do that." I smirked. "But you do this." he went on gave me a deeper kiss. I had no response but nod. We went on with more dancing and kisses.

The evening ended with all four of us having some casual chat outside a street food restaurant, my friend going back to mine, and his friend going back to his.

He messaged me on ig later telling me he's home, I messaged back, and thanked him for the drinks. He liked my message.

And then nothing.

On Sunday I started to initiate the conversation, because for the past 48 hours, all I could think about was him. To my disappointment, the conversation couldn't have been more polite. I was expecting fireworks, when there's barely a tiniest spark.

But then again, I am older, I am wiser, I aim to get what I want. So I laid my cards on the table, told him I think he's cute, then asked him if he wanted to grab a drink this weekend.

Next morning I woke up to messages of him liking my compliment, saying thanks, and that he might be away this weekend, but if not for sure let's.

Then I found out he unfollowed me on ig and removed me from his follower list.

Then I messaged him back as if nothing happened, trying to diverge the conversation to the night we met, which I was met with nothing but an emoji reaction.

Then nothing.

I've been sitting with this defeat for several days now. I keep wondering if things would've been different if I weren't on my period, if I had gone home with him, if we had shared breakfast the next morning. But I was, and I couldn't, all because of the timing.

Was it simply a misfortune, or was it the universe's plan to help me dodge a bullet? I may will never find out. But at this moment, Golden Boy is archived into my drawer of Could Haves, and 100% the prettiest boy I've ever had the luck to spend some time with. Which, to be honest, as an average looking, short, Chinese girl, probably is more than I could ever have hoped for.

[therealluxun]

Alright y’all imma post A madman’s Diary here since y’all brokies don’t have audible. I’m such a nice guy that I’ll give it out for free😌

"I appreciate your coming such a long way to see us," he said, "but my brother recovered some time ago and has gone elsewhere to take up an official post." Then, laughing, he produced two volumes of his brother's diary, saying that from these the nature of his past illness could be seen, and that there was no harm in showing them to an old friend. I took the diary away, read it through, and found that he had suffered from a form of persecution complex. The writing was most confused and incoherent, and he had made many wild statements; moreover he had omitted to give any dates, so that only by the colour of the ink and the differences in the writing could one tell that it was not written at one time. Certain sections, however, were not altogether disconnected, and I have copied out a part to serve as a subject for medical research. I have not altered a single illogicality in the diary and have changed only the names, even though the people referred to are all country folk, unknown to the world and of no consequence. As for the title, it was chosen by the diarist himself after his recovery, and I did not change it.

I

Tonight the moon is very bright.

I have not seen it for over thirty years, so today when I saw it I felt in unusually high spirits. I begin to realize that during the past thirty-odd years I have been in the dark; but now I must be extremely careful. Otherwise why should that dog at the Chao house have looked at me twice?

I have reason for my fear.

II

Tonight there is no moon at all, I know that this bodes ill. This morning when I went out cautiously, Mr. Chao had a strange look in his eyes, as if he were afraid of me, as if he wanted to murder me. There were seven or eight others, who discussed me in a whisper. And they were afraid of my seeing them. All the people I passed were like that. The fiercest among them grinned at me; whereupon I shivered from head to foot, knowing that their preparations were complete.

I was not afraid, however, but continued on my way. A group of children in front were also discussing me, and the look in their eyes was just like that in Mr. Chao's while their faces too were ghastly pale. I wondered what grudge these children could have against me to make them behave like this. I could not help calling out: "Tell me!" But then they ran away.

I wonder what grudge Mr. Chao can have against me, what grudge the people on the road can have against me. I can think of nothing except that twenty years ago I trod on Mr. Ku Chiu's1 account sheets for many years past, and Mr. Ku was very displeased. Although Mr. Chao does not know him, he must have heard talk of this and decided to avenge him, so he is conspiring against me with the people on the road, But then what of the children? At that time they were not yet born, so why should they eye me so strangely today, as if they were afraid of me, as if they wanted to murder me? This really frightens me, it is so bewildering and upsetting.

I know. They must have learned this from their parents!

III

I can't sleep at night. Everything requires careful consideration if one is to understand it.

Those people, some of whom have been pilloried by the magistrate, slapped in the face by the local gentry, had their wives taken away by bailiffs, or their parents driven to suicide by creditors, never looked as frightened and as fierce then as they did yesterday.

The most extraordinary thing was that woman on the street yesterday who spanked her son and said, "Little devil! I'd like to bite several mouthfuls out of you to work off my feelings!" Yet all the time she looked at me. I gave a start, unable to control myself; then all those green-faced, long-toothed people began to laugh derisively. Old Chen hurried forward and dragged me home.

He dragged me home. The folk at home all pretended not to know me; they had the same look in their eyes as all the others. When I went into the study, they locked the door outside as if cooping up a chicken or a duck. This incident left me even more bewildered.

A few days ago a tenant of ours from Wolf Cub Village came to report the failure of the crops, and told my elder brother that a notorious character in their village had been beaten to death; then some people had taken out his heart and liver, fried them in oil and eaten them, as a means of increasing their courage. When I interrupted, the tenant and my brother both stared at me. Only today have I realized that they had exactly the same look in their eyes as those people outside.

Just to think of it sets me shivering from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.

They eat human beings, so they may eat me.

I see that woman's "bite several mouthfuls out of you," the laughter of those green-faced, long-toothed people and the tenant's story the other day are obviously secret signs. I realize all the poison in their speech, all the daggers in their laughter. Their teeth are white and glistening: they are all man-eaters.

It seems to me, although I am not a bad man, ever since I trod on Mr. Ku's accounts it has been touch-and-go. They seem to have secrets which I cannot guess, and once they are angry they will call anyone a bad character. I remember when my elder brother taught me to write compositions, no matter how good a man was, if I produced arguments to the contrary he would mark that passage to show his approval; while if I excused evil-doers, he would say: "Good for you, that shows originality." How can I possibly guess their secret thoughts—especially when they are ready to eat people?

Everything requires careful consideration if one is to understand it. In ancient times, as I recollect, people often ate human beings, but I am rather hazy about it. I tried to look this up, but my history has no chronology, and scrawled all over each page are the words: "Virtue and Morality." Since I could not sleep anyway, I read intently half the night, until I began to see words between the lines, the whole book being filled with the two words—"Eat people."

All these words written in the book, all the words spoken by our tenant, gaze at me strangely with an enigmatic smile.

I too am a man, and they want to eat me!

IV

In the morning I sat quietly for some time. Old Chen brought lunch in: one bowl of vegetables, one bowl of steamed fish. The eyes of the fish were white and hard, and its mouth was open just like those people who want to eat human beings. After a few mouthfuls I could not tell whether the slippery morsels were fish or human flesh, so I brought it all up.

I said, "Old Chen, tell my brother that I feel quite suffocated, and want to have a stroll in the garden." Old Chen said nothing but went out, and presently he came back and opened the gate.

I did not move, but watched to see how they would treat me, feeling certain that they would not let me go. Sure enough! My elder brother came slowly out, leading an old man. There was a murderous gleam in his eyes, and fearing that I would see it he lowered his head, stealing glances at me from the side of his spectacles.

"You seem to be very well today," said my brother.

"Yes," said I.

"I have invited Mr. Ho here today," said my brother, "to examine you."

"All right," said I. Actually I knew quite well that this old man was the executioner in disguise! He simply used the pretext of feeling my pulse to see how fat I was; for by so doing he would receive a share of my flesh. Still I was not afraid. Although I do not eat men, my courage is greater than theirs. I held out my two fists, to see what he would do. The old man sat down, closed his eyes, fumbled for some time and remained still for some time; then he opened his shifty eyes and said, "Don't let your imagination run away with you. Rest quietly for a few days, and you will be all right."

Don't let your imagination run away with you! Rest quietly for a few days! When I have grown fat, naturally they will have more to eat; but what good will it do me, or how can it be "all right"? All these people wanting to eat human flesh and at the same time stealthily trying to keep up appearances, not daring to act promptly, really made me nearly die of laughter. I could not help roaring with laughter, I was so amused. I knew that in this laughter were courage and integrity. Both the old man and my brother turned pale, awed by my courage and integrity.

But just because I am brave they are the more eager to eat me, in order to acquire some of my courage. The old man went out of the gate, but before he had gone far he said to my brother in a low voice, "To be eaten at once!" And my brother nodded. So you are in it too! This stupendous discovery, although it came as a shock, is yet no more than I had expected: the accomplice in eating me is my elder brother!

The eater of human flesh is my elder brother!

I am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh!

I myself will be eaten by others, but none the less I am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh!

V

These few days I have been thinking again: suppose that old man were not an executioner in disguise, but a real doctor; he would be none the less an eater of human flesh. In that book on herbs, written by his predecessor Li Shih-chen,2 it is clearly stated that men's flesh can he boiled and eaten; so can he still say that he does not eat men?

As for my elder brother, I have also good reason to suspect him. When he was teaching me, he said with his own lips, "People exchange their sons to eat." And once in discussing a bad man, he said that not only did he deserve to be killed, he should "have his flesh eaten and his hide slept on. . . ."3 I was still young then, and my heart beat faster for some time, he was not at all surprised by the story that our tenant from Wolf Cub Village told us the other day about eating a man's heart and liver, but kept nodding his head. He is evidently just as cruel as before. Since it is possible to "exchange sons to eat," then anything can be exchanged, anyone can be eaten. In the past I simply listened to his explanations, and let it go at that; now I know that when he explained it to me, not only was there human fat at the corner of his lips, but his whole heart was set on eating men.

VI

Pitch dark. I don't know whether it is day or night. The Chao family dog has started barking again.

The fierceness of a lion, the timidity of a rabbit, the craftiness of a fox. . . .

VII

I know their way; they are not willing to kill anyone outright, nor do they dare, for fear of the consequences. Instead they have banded together and set traps everywhere, to force me to kill myself. The behaviour of the men and women in the street a few days ago, and my elder brother's attitude these last few days, make it quite obvious. What they like best is for a man to take off his belt, and hang himself from a beam; for then they can enjoy their heart's desire without being blamed for murder. Naturally that sets them roaring with delighted laughter. On the other hand, if a man is frightened or worried to death, although that makes him rather thin, they still nod in approval.

They only eat dead flesh! I remember reading somewhere of a hideous beast, with an ugly look in its eye, called "hyena" which often eats dead flesh. Even the largest bones it grinds into fragments and swallows: the mere thought of this is enough to terrify one. Hyenas are related to wolves, and wolves belong to the canine species. The other day the dog in the Chao house looked at me several times; obviously it is in the plot too and has become their accomplice. The old man's eyes were cast down, but that did not deceive me!

The most deplorable is my elder brother. He is also a man, so why is he not afraid, why is he plotting with others to eat me? Is it that when one is used to it he no longer thinks it a crime? Or is it that he has hardened his heart to do something he knows is wrong?

In cursing man-eaters, I shall start with my brother, and in dissuading man-eaters, I shall start with him too.

VIII

Actually, such arguments should have convinced them long ago. . . .

Suddenly someone came in. He was only about twenty years old and I did not see his features very clearly. His face was wreathed in smiles, but when he nodded to me his smile did not seem genuine. I asked him "Is it right to eat human beings?"

Still smiling, he replied, "When there is no famine how can one eat human beings?"

I realized at once, he was one of them; but still I summoned up courage to repeat my question:

"Is it right?"

"What makes you ask such a thing? You really are . . fond of a joke. . . . It is very fine today."

"It is fine, and the moon is very bright. But I want to ask you: Is it right?"

He looked disconcerted, and muttered: "No...."

"No? Then why do they still do it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? They are eating men now in Wolf Cub Village, and you can see it written all over the books, in fresh red ink."

His expression changed, and he grew ghastly pale. "It may be so," he said, staring at me. "It has always been like that. . . ."

"Is it right because it has always been like that?"

"I refuse to discuss these things with you. Anyway, you shouldn't talk about it. Whoever talks about it is in the wrong!"

I leaped up and opened my eyes wide, but the man had vanished. I was soaked with perspiration. He was much younger than my elder brother, but even so he was in it. He must have been taught by his parents. And I am afraid he has already taught his son: that is why even the children look at me so fiercely.

IX

Wanting to eat men, at the same time afraid of being eaten themselves, they all look at each other with the deepest suspicion. . . .

How comfortable life would be for them if they could rid themselves of such obsessions and go to work, walk, eat and sleep at ease. They have only this one step to take. Yet fathers and sons, husbands and wives, brothers, friends, teachers and students, sworn enemies and even strangers, have all joined in this conspiracy, discouraging and preventing each other from taking this step.

X

Early this morning I went to look for my elder brother. He was standing outside the hall door looking at the sky, when I walked up behind him, stood between him and the door, and with exceptional poise and politeness said to him:

"Brother, I have something to say to you."

"Well, what is it?" he asked, quickly turning towards me and nodding.

"It is very little, but I find it difficult to say. Brother, probably all primitive people ate a little human flesh to begin with. Later, because their outlook changed, some of them stopped, and because they tried to be good they changed into men, changed into real men. But some are still eating—just like reptiles. Some have changed into fish, birds, monkeys and finally men; but some do not try to be good and remain reptiles still. When those who eat men compare themselves with those who do not, how ashamed they must be. Probably much more ashamed than the reptiles are before monkeys.

"In ancient times Yi Ya boiled his son for Chieh and Chou to eat; that is the old story.4 But actually since the creation of heaven and earth by Pan Ku men have been eating each other, from the time of Yi Ya's son to the time of Hsu Hsi-lin,5 and from the time of Hsu Hsi-lin down to the man caught in Wolf Cub Village. Last year they executed a criminal in the city, and a consumptive soaked a piece of bread in his blood and sucked it.

"They want to eat me, and of course you can do nothing about it single-handed; but why should you join them? As man-eaters they are capable of anything. If they eat me, they can eat you as well; members of the same group can still eat each other. But if you will just change your ways immediately, then everyone will have peace. Although this has been going on since time immemorial, today we could make a special effort to be good, and say this is not to be done! I'm sure you can say so, brother. The other day when the tenant wanted the rent reduced, you said it couldn't be done."

At first he only smiled cynically, then a murderous gleam came into his eyes, and when I spoke of their secret his face turned pale. Outside the gate stood a group of people, including Mr. Chao and his dog, all craning their necks to peer in. I could not see all their faces, for they seemed to be masked in cloths; some of them looked pale and ghastly still, concealing their laughter. I knew they were one band, all eaters of human flesh. But I also knew that they did not all think alike by any means. Some of them thought that since it had always been so, men should be eaten. Some of them knew that they should not eat men, but still wanted to; and they were afraid people might discover their secret; thus when they heard me they became angry, but they still smiled their. cynical, tight-lipped smile.

Suddenly my brother looked furious, and shouted in a loud voice:

"Get out of here, all of you! What is the point of looking at a madman?"

Then I realized part of their cunning. They would never be willing to change their stand, and their plans were all laid; they had stigmatized me as a madman. In future when I was eaten, not only would there be no trouble, but people would probably be grateful to them. When our tenant spoke of the villagers eating a bad character, it was exactly the same device. This is their old trick.

Old Chen came in too, in a great temper, but they could not stop my mouth, I had to speak to those people:

"You should change, change from the bottom of your hearts!" I said. "You most know that in future there will be no place for man-eaters in the world.

"If you don't change, you may all be eaten by each other. Although so many are born, they will be wiped out by the real men, just like wolves killed by hunters. Just like reptiles!"

Old Chen drove everybody away. My brother had disappeared. Old Chen advised me to go back to my room. The room was pitch dark. The beams and rafters shook above my head. After shaking for some time they grew larger. They piled on top of me.

The weight was so great, I could not move. They meant that I should die. I knew that the weight was false, so I struggled out, covered in perspiration. But I had to say:

"You should change at once, change from the bottom of your hearts! You must know that in future there will be no place for man-eaters in the world . . . ."

XI

The sun does not shine, the door is not opened, every day two meals.

I took up my chopsticks, then thought of my elder brother; I know now how my little sister died: it was all through him. My sister was only five at the time. I can still remember how lovable and pathetic she looked. Mother cried and cried, but he begged her not to cry, probably because he had eaten her himself, and so her crying made him feel ashamed. If he had any sense of shame. . . .

My sister was eaten by my brother, but I don't know whether mother realized it or not.

I think mother must have known, but when she cried she did not say so outright, probably because she thought it proper too. I remember when I was four or five years old, sitting in the cool of the hall, my brother told me that if a man's parents were ill, he should cut off a piece of his flesh and boil it for them if he wanted to be considered a good son; and mother did not contradict him. If one piece could be eaten, obviously so could the whole. And yet just to think of the mourning then still makes my heart bleed; that is the extraordinary thing about it!

XII

I can't bear to think of it.

I have only just realized that I have been living all these years in a place where for four thousand years they have been eating human flesh. My brother had just taken over the charge of the house when our sister died, and he may well have used her flesh in our rice and dishes, making us eat it unwittingly.

It is possible that I ate several pieces of my sister's flesh unwittingly, and now it is my turn, . . .

How can a man like myself, after four thousand years of man-caring history—even though I knew nothing about it at first—ever hope to face real men?

XIII

Perhaps there are still children who have not eaten men? Save the children. . . .

April 1918

[potter-imagines]

Left Waiting at The Three Broomsticks (Fred Weasley x Read)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Fred Weasley imagine where he pisses off his gf somehow and so she gives him the silent treatment and only talks to literally everyone (including George) but him so he gets all jealous and pouty lol. Eventually he gets her to start talking to him again and then it’s all fluff etc. Hopefully this wasn’t a confusing request! Thank you!! :)

Warning: Tiny bit of sexual content towards the end, little bit of swearing, kinda angst at the beginning ?? and a lil towards the end ?? I think that's all, a lot of fluff scattered about

Word Count: 9.5k (I am so sorry I got carried away)

Two hours. Y/n had spent two hours waiting for him. Two stupid hours on a Saturday night that she could have spent elsewhere making something productive of her day but no. The last two hours Y/n had been seated in a small booth in the corner of The Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for her boyfriend, Fred Weasley.

The thing that infuriated her the most was that it was his idea in the first place! Originally, the couple had planned a stay-in date in her dorm room for the night before, Friday, but other plans came up. Fred got tangled up in a prank with George that had landed him in detention with Snape for the night. Yes, it annoyed her but what could she do? It wasn’t like Snape would excuse Fred because she tells him they have a date. If anything, Snape would hold him back longer.

When Fred and George were finally dismissed, it was nearly eleven at night and Fred was sprinting down through the dungeons to the common room. Their arrangement was for eight and he was praying to anyone listening above that she was still awake, but not furious at him.

Skipping up the transporting stairs, Fred basically shouted the secret password at the Fat Lady making her narrow her eyes at him. She swung open, not without muttering about how rude he was, and Fred jumped inside. Ten or so students were scattered around the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat around the couch near the grand fireplace. They sent Fred a wave, which he frantically returned. The golden trio watched in curiosity as Fred darted up the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.

Hermione looked back to the group and asked,

“Wonder what that’s about- he seemed in a hurry.”

“Heard him and George got detention. They put stink-bombs in the Slytherin common room! Heard it stained some of the furniture maroon!” Ron chuckled at his brother’s antics then resumed his debate with Harry over their thoughts on the Quidditch World Cup happening every four years. Harry tried to explain the concept of the Olympics to Ron, but Ron was too focused on how amazing it would be for the World Cup to happen each year. Hermione went back to her studies, blocking out the mindless bickering of the boys.

Above the common room, Fred Weasley was scurrying to his girlfriend’s dorm room. He hoped Angelina and Alicia were out so he could be alone with her. Their time spent together had been oddly less than usual the last few weeks. Fred had no change of heart- actually, he found himself falling more in love with her every day, but their final year at Hogwarts was creeping up from the woods and he was working on a dream career behind the scenes with George that was eating up his time with her. He had shared this idea with her before- but it was just an idea then. Fred and George planned on putting their dreams to action once they finished up the next year. He wanted her to come- George did as well, but he didn’t want to mention it until it was a reality.

Reaching his destination Fred took a second to compose himself. A thin line of sweat was forming near his forehead. This was the first chance he had to take a breather since detention ended. Fixing his dark robes Fred knocked against the door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough to hear.

“Y/n… Y/n… love, are you awake? It’s Fred-“

Abruptly, the heavy wooden door cracked open and a weary looking girl poked her head out into the quietness.

“Darling, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.” Fred stepped forward and wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. Y/n’s head fell against his chest out of instincts. His arms fastened around her waist as he invited himself in the room, slowly walking her back.

“Here, go back to bed, love. You look exhausted.” Fred led the sluggish girl to her familiar bed. Throwing back the covers, he readjusted her pillows so there would be room for him to fit as well. Fred then walked back to Y/n and took her hand softly. Kissing the back of her hand, Fred helped Y/n get into bed then slipped in beside her. His arms snaked around her body without thought. The naturalness of holding her in his arms made Fred feel confident in his dreams of starting a future with her. All the tension in his body collapsed when she leaned into his frame. Fred held her close and kissed the side of her cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry about detention tonight but I promise I’ll take you out Saturday, alright? We can have a date at Hogsmeade and spend the night together, does that sound nice?”

The sleepy witch gave a tired mumble and nodded her head. She was cuddled under a stack of blankets, wearing Fred’s sweatshirt which made him smile. He’d usually crack a joke at this and tease her but, she was already asleep when he looked back to her. Fred couldn’t help but stare at her for a while. There was never a moment that went by where Fred didn’t think of Y/n as anything other than beautiful but in these moments, she looked ethereal.

Moonlight poured in from the open window and splashed across her s/c cheeks. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillowcase. Fred smiled at the sound of her light snores. Fred wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was deep asleep. It was their thing. She hated going to bed without him there.

“Okay, I love you, Y/n. Get some sleep, angel.” Fred whispered.

He pecked her forehead, then kissed her lips gently. Removing the covers, Fred tucked them back into Y/n so she could keep warm. He closed the open window then tip toed out of the room. Instead of rejoining his friends, Fred decided to head to his room. He felt too guilty for missing out on their plans to go have his own fun. Anyways he did have a Potions paper coming up and if he was going to spend the day with you Saturday, he surely wouldn’t be doing any homework.

So, the plan was confirmed the next morning, Friday. Y/n ran into Fred on her way to breakfast and they discussed where they’d meet and a time. They ate breakfast together, walked to class, then headed in different directions when six rolled around. Fred had a Quidditch match and she had a group project, so they didn’t cross paths for the rest of the night. Even though he refused to admit it, Fred absolutely hated when Y/n missed one of his games. His favorite thing to do was search for her in the stands during each game and it made him sad not to see her smiling face standing out in the crowd. Y/n entered the common room around midnight and went straight for her bed. Gryffindor had lost so there wasn’t a single housemate sitting in the common room. She could only imagine how upset Fred must be, she’d be hearing about it tomorrow. Y/n giggled to herself at the recollection of Fred’s angry rants about his teammates to you in private. She basically crawled to her bed, dreaming about the handsome, goofy, witty twin that had captured her heart.

Which would bring us to Saturday night. Fred and Y/n had made specific plans; they were to meet at The Three Broomsticks at seven then hangout for a while and spend the rest of their night sneaking around the castle with the help of The Marauder’s Map. Fred had practice at six so he was planning on meeting up with the girl at the pub. Y/n expected him to be running late- it wouldn’t be Fred if he didn’t show up a good twenty minutes late.

Only Fred never showed up at seven thirty, not at eight, and by the time nine neared, he was still nowhere in sight. The Three Broomsticks would stay open for a few more hours but the thought of sitting there alone for any longer, jumping at the sound of the door every time it opened, it made Y/n feel less than sane.

Throwing a handful of coins on the table, Y/n thanked her server then exited through the front doors. The walk back to the castle wasn’t long but being with Fred made it a lot more amusing. He’d pick her flowers, give her piggy back rides, play games, race, and hold her hand the whole walk back.

This time, Y/n walked alone hugging the material of her raincoat to her chest. A light drizzle had been pouring on and off for most of the day. Earlier, it was perfectly bearable- hardly noticeable. Although the weather had only worsened as the night grew darker. Hard rain drops crashed against Y/n coat, cascading down her covered arms and bouncing to the wet ground. Her black boots were soaked. She could feel the water rising to her socks, one of her biggest hatreds. Wet socks.

The hood of her jacket only helped so much before the pelting raindrops started to seep to her hair. Typically, Y/n loved the rain. If Fred was here, they’d be dancing right now. But he wasn’t, she had no clue where he was and that was exactly what Y/n was headed to find out.

By the time Y/n made it back to the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, it was past ten.

Much as Y/n had expected, the common room was lively with energy and conversations. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all sitting in a circle with Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus, and Dean. A dark bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy and Daisyroot Draught were being passed amongst them. Y/n watched as Fred leaned into his brother’s side, obviously tipsy and slurring his words while he practically shouted to their friends who were only sitting feet away.

His frame twitched with every small hiccup he let out. The whole group was smiling, they were happy. Y/n wondered to herself if Fred even noticed that she wasn’t there. She wondered if he liked it more when she wasn’t there, they were having fun and although the group was also her friends, no one was interested enough to invite her. Biting on the tender skin of her bottom lip, Y/n bundled her fist to her sides. The anger refused to simmer, only continued to boil. Her dripping clothes weren’t helpful to her sour mood.

It wasn’t the fault of her friends, no, but they were bound to get caught in the crossfires. Fred was the one who left her waiting for hours on end. Her chest was tight- livid yet sad all at once. It was an aggravating feel, unfamiliar. Y/n hated the suffocation entering her drying throat. More than anything she longed to handle situations like these in an aloof fashion. The last thing wanted was to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her head screamed ‘just go to bed, ignore him’ but her heart wanted to scream at him and let him know just how bad he had hurt her. Her breathing quickened, each inhale received a choppy exhale.

For the first time, Y/n decided not to join her friends or to even say a word to Fred about how he stood her up. She was sick of it- completely exhausted and drained from his lack of care and presences in their relationship the last few weeks. If he wanted her as bad as he claimed, he’d find a way to show it. And leaving her sitting alone in a noisy pub while he partied and drank with their friends, showed her the exact opposite of his words.

Diverting her leer from the inebriated group and studied the rest of the room, hearing voices near the sitting area. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all staring at Y/n in mixed judgement. Harry, Ron and Neville looked concerned by the appearance of Y/n. Hermione on the other hand, she was absolutely flabbergasted, Y/n could see the pity written on her face. You had mentioned having a date night with Fred in Hogsmeade to the four the night before. Harry had invited Y/n to hangout with them and visit Hagrid, but she politely declined and informed them about the special night Fred had planned for them.

Harry and Hermione stood up at the same time ready to comfort the teary-eyed girl. They motioned her over but just as she started towards them, Angelina Johnson noticed her friend who had been absent for most of the night. Setting the bottle of brandy down, Angelina wobbled up to her feet and smiled giddily,

“Y/n! Come- come drink with us! I was wondering where you- why… why’re you all wet?”

As the words fell from her mouth, a crowd of eyes planted on Y/n. Her fists clenched, bone white knuckles visible, at her sides. Angelina scurried over to her friend and wrapped her in a tender hug. If the scenario had been different, she’d gladly join in the fun but there wasn’t an ounce in her body that desired a drink.

Y/n’s eyes found their way to the boy she had been longing for all night. Her lips quivered, the anger and sadness reaching it’s overpour. He looked so handsome, so happy, but it meant nothing to her.

Pulling back, Angelina squinted in confusion at Y/n. The lack of embrace given back had thrown her off. The group had been awaiting her arrival, no one was quite sure where she’d gone off to. Angelina scanned Y/n’s reddening face, noticing the emotions bubbling under the surface.

Moving away, the dark-skinned girl turned to her friends. No one else seemed to notice the offset of Y/n’s attitude.

“Angel, where have you been? I missed you!” Fred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Quickly standing up, he held his hand out to his girlfriend. Y/n shot a dangerous look to his outreach, then up to his face. Usually she’d find his toothy grin and childlike state loveable but for obvious reasons, it made her irate.

Stepping back, Y/n sternly scowled at Fred,

“Missed me? You’re the one who left me waiting all goddamn night, Fred Weasley.”

A part of Y/n felt guilty for forcing her friends to witness their unpleasant exchange. George was now to his feet standing behind Fred, just as lost as the group he had been sitting with. Despite the alcohol running in his veins, George could sense an argument budding by the second.

“Not like any of you really seemed to care where I was.” Y/n kicked herself for this cold statement.

Her friends weren’t at fault- not in the slightest. But everyone was at risk of becoming a victim to her fiery wrath. In actuality, it did hurt her a little that no one had gone searching for her. It had been hours! Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the reactions of the group. George took his arm off Alicia and nudged his twin.

“What- I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, love. I think you should have a drink and loosen up-“

Y/n couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it anymore. Scrunching her face, she used every bit of strength to force her salty tears to hide at bay. Although her emotions screamed to be heard and saw right through her façade. Sweeping her hand across her cheek, Y/n caught the stray tears that rolled down her rosy cheeks. Huffing all her emotions out at once, Y/n shook Fred away from her and hurried towards her room.

Fred stood appearing dumbfounded. He could only gawk in perplexity. Blame it on the alcohol, but Fred’s mind was drawing a blank when surveying her words. For most of the night, he was the one thinking she was leaving him waiting. No one else had a clue as to where she’d gone off to, so he assumed she was in the library or wanted some space.

“You’re an idiot, Fred.” Hermione’s sharp voice cut through the thick air. The happiness and drunken laughter was extinct. The girl’s shared an exchange, all confused as to what just happened. The glass bottles didn’t help clear their judgement. Dean and Seamus took small sips from the Daisyroot Draught. The tension was unbearable, it felt wrong for their friends to be a part of it.

George set a hand on Fred’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Leaning forward, George whispered to his twin,

“I reckon it’s best if we turn it in for the night.” Fred gave a tug of protest. His intoxicated fought against him though he knew he did something wrong and needed to find Y/n. In spite of his desire to chase after the girl, George couldn’t let him do that. It was obvious Fred had forgotten something and Y/n was more than upset. Sending his brother up to drunkenly apologize to his hurting girlfriend for a reason he can’t even recall, that was a recipe for disaster and would only cause a bigger mess.

“Fred, you’re going to bed. You’re too drunk to talk to Y/n right now, okay? We’re going up the boy’s stairs, not the girls, okay? You two can talk in the morning, maybe you’ll remember where you fucked up tonight by then.”

Suddenly, Fred stop moving and let out a low groan,

“Oh shit… merlin’s sake, I fucked up, George. Oh my god- Hogsmeade… shit! I told her we’d meet at Hogsmeade and I forgot-“Fred whipped around in his discombobulated state. Everything clicked at once. Fred had been so concentrated on Quidditch that once practice had wrapped up, his exhausted body dragged him back to the common room out of muscle memory. It was his typical routine; Quidditch practice, head back to his dorm, shower, change, eat, work on some possible products with George, then hangout with his friends. How could he be so neglectful?

George sent his brother a comforting look then grabbed him by the shoulders, helping aid him up the winding staircase. It came as a shock to him that Fred had forgotten about their date. All he spoke about was Y/n, it was a rare occurrence for the couple to

“So that’s where she’s been all night?” George pushed open the door to their room, looking to his twin sternly. Fred had most of his weight piled on George, trying his hardest to remain upright. Lee had decided to stay back, allowing the brothers a chance to talk.

George helped his frantic twin in the dark room, then gave him a light push towards his bed. Fred plopped down, burying his face in the fluffy pillow. Pulling off his jumper, George threw the large maroon comforter over Fred’s tall frame while he wailed,

“I’m a terrible boyfriend. I planned the bloody date too! I left her-“

“How ‘bout you get some rest? You can find her in the morning and apologize to her and… hope for the best. It’ll give you more time to think of a way to make it up to her. You’re just a rambling mess right now.” The alcohol was not wearing George down. He had been on an adrenaline high since his second shot. This was the first moment of the night where he had stepped back. His tiresome hands rubbed against his face as he made his way to his bed and collapsed on it.

Fred was still moaning on, the sound of his drunken voice making it harder for George to fight back the urge to sleep,

“She’s gonna dump my sorry ass-“

“Go to bed, Fred. It’ll be okay.”

George let out a sigh of exhaustion. The twins had been best friends with Y/n since they were just children, new to Hogwarts and unfamiliar with the power of magic. It pained him to see his brother hurt, but it also hurt to see Y/n upset. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Turning his head, George let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his twin passed out cold. The worry that dripped from his voice was now gone as he eased into his dreamland.

George wanted to scold him, knock him upside the head for skipping out on Y/n again. He cared a lot about her, she was basically a sister, a triplet to him. If Fred was gonna win her back, it wasn’t going to be easy, George knew this. Y/n was stubborn, and the twins had witnessed this first hand for years, it was a trait they loved, when not directed towards either of them.

As George’s head hit the pillow, all he could do was pray to Godrick that the morning would bring good news.

Sunday morning arrived much faster than Y/n had hoped. A bright, loud, light interrupted her sleep as the gears in her head started to turn. Her mind was groggy, the events of last night were foggy. Warm sunlight broke through the glass stained windows. Y/n wiped her eyes and slowly sat up. Her mouth was dry, screaming for a drink of water.

For a minute, she felt calm- happy almost. The room was half empty; Angelina’s bed was bare and Alicia laid in a star-fish position, a snore sounding from her mouth. The image made Y/n laugh.

Standing up, Y/n’s hands flew above her head as she stretched. She cracked her back, a morning ritual for the girl. Just as she reached for the knob of her dresser, a wave of recollection nearly knocked her off her feet.

Fred had stood her up, of course, how could she forget? The irritated skin under her eyes and nose suddenly made sense. Leaning against the wooden cabinet, Y/n huffed. It was times like these she wished she could crawl into bed and stay there for eternity. Nothing would get better though if she didn’t at least try to fix it.

As quick as the thought came, it had evaporated once more. Why did she have to be the one to put forth the effort to fix things? There was no use in fixing their relationship if Fred wasn’t willing to try too. More than try, Y/n thought. It took a piece of her when she came back to the castle just to see him drinking with their friends, not thinking a thought of her. She needed to see that he cared. His words held no value to her anymore, not until he could prove he meant what he said.

Y/n went through her morning routine like a snail, wanting to drag out her time. Eventually, she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She liked to take advantage of the days her school robes weren’t required. The cooling weather led her to a fuzzy black sweater, and light washed jeans. Sliding her delicate wand into her back pocket, Y/n exited the room and took the stairs down to the common room.

Approaching the bottom of the steps, Y/n could hear familiar voices exchanging hush words. She stepped into the room and was surprised to see the lack of students. The only ones present were sat one the long leather couch on the left half of the massive room. All of their gazes fell on Y/n.

Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Harry and Hermione were all relaxing- well all of them except Fred. He on the other hand was frantic- disheveled. His knee bounced in anticipation. The clock was sneaking

“Oh, uh, hey Y/n!” Ron Weasley moved his hand side to side, waving to Y/n. The temptation to admire the handsome boy at his side leaped into her heart. Using every ounce of strength, Y/n trained her eyes on Ron, not allowing a single peek at Fred.

“Hey, Y/n/n!” The voice of Angelina brought a perk to Y/n’s head.

“Hi.” She greeted the younger Weasley and her close friend back, then headed for the portrait. Before she could make it half the distance, the tall figure of her boyfriend appeared.

“Angel, how did you sleep?” Fred was by her side in an instant. He was desperately trying to read her expression, testing the waters to see her mood. He had hardly slept, he spent most of the night thinking about this exact moment, when he’d have the chance to apologize and make it up to the girl he loved. “Can we please talk? I’m really sorry for last night, honestly, I am so so sorry, darling.”

Y/n stared at him, or rather, through him. It was like she didn’t see the tall wizard in front of her.

“I’m gonna go study, I’ll meet you with you guys later.”

“Y/n, love-“ His warm hand took hold of her of her own, an action she’d typically love. The familiar grasp sent a burst of comfort in her stomach, but she ignored it.

Wiggling out of his grip, the girl shot him a look of displeasure then rushed off. Hermione chased after her, no one else brave enough to step in. Besides, Hermione was one of her closest friends. Watching the younger girl follow after her roommate, Angelina walked after them. Fred stomped like a toddler having a tantrum as the portrait swung open then closed. He knew he had to do something- anything to get her to talk to him again, and that was his plan.

For a Sunday evening, the school library was relatively empty. A majority of the students occupying the tables were studying away for their O.W.L.S. The exams weren’t for another two months but hardly anyone dared to procrastinate until the last week before opening their books. The stress of the exams was enormous, but the students still had other classes to keep in mind.

Y/n Y/n/l and George Weasley were sitting across from on another at a study table. Three hefty textbooks were open as the two discussed their Potions paper. Y/n had been stuck on hers and George had yet to start so they decided to head to the library together and get it done.

Fred was usually right by their side, his hand wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders, but she neglected an invite for him. About an hour after their exchange in the common room, Y/n had apologized to each friend she had snapped on the night prior. They were understanding, clearly seeing where her frustrations had come for. They also felt bad as she was right, no one had even checked to see where she’d gone, and George especially felt terrible for not searching for his friend.

At least three hours had passed since the two Gryffindors started their study session. Y/n was sneaking up on her last two pages while George still had three left. They collaborated every few minutes, then returned to tranquil silence, scribbling away.

Y/n was in the middle of sharing her idea for the last section of her paper when George’s eyes brighten and he interrupted her,

“Fred, how nice of you to join us.”

Turning in her chair, Y/n found her boyfriend standing behind her with a nervous smile. She hated how perfect he looked, even in the poor lighting of the library. He still managed to make her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

“Hi, Y/n. You look beautiful as always.” Fred announced himself softly. George scoffed teasingly, muttering a ‘hello’ to himself to make up for his brother ignoring him. Freds words were genuine though didn’t make much of a difference. Y/n was still hurt and a compliment wasn’t going to mend that. She needed to feel it, to see him truly show that he cared- that she meant something to him. That she was deserving of his time. Sweet comments didn’t not add up to that feeling.

George closed his textbook, then glanced up at his twin,

“Should I leave?”

Before Fred could answer, Y/n slammed her hand on top of George’s Potions book. Wide eyed and frightened, the boy gaped in shock. Even Fred was taken aback by her unexpecting movement. Leering at her friend Y/n replied,

“No. I want you to stay, we were in the middle of a conversation.”

Fred’s heart dropped at her words. It was heartbreaking to have the girl of his dreams now shunning him- brushing him off with ease. It was driving him mad. All he wanted was for her to acknowledge him, give him a little hope that he can earn his way back in her heart. He loved her, every bit of him loved her.

All he wanted was to make it up to her for his mistakes the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw him sitting with their friends. She was miles exceeded hurt- more devastated at his negligence than hurt alone.

Maybe it was the fear of meeting the reality that losing Y/n was a possibility, but Fred experienced a new sort of emotion when his girlfriend asked for his brother to stay. Yes, they’re friends, all three of them are. Fred had to remind himself of this like a record on repeat. He couldn’t fight the envy off though.

It made his heart twist as she stared at George. Never did he think he’d be jealous of his own twin, but Fred was livid. The seething stream of covetousness overtook his veins. Fred wanted to be the one you ran to for comfort, not his brother. His entire life he had shared everything with George, Y/n was far too meaningful to Fred for her to be shared.

Now it does take two for a turn of events like that to happen. Fred knew, clear as day, that George had no romantic feelings for Y/n and she had none for George. This was true, but for some reason, it didn’t help tame Fred’s envy.

He knew causing a jealous scene would do no good for anyone, so Fred realigned his train of thought and asked,

“Could I steal you from that conversation, please love? I really need to apologize to you.”

Fred allowed his hands to reveal themselves from their previous position hiding behind his back. When he moved them, a full bouquet of colorful flowers and small green plants of different shapes and sizes. The flowers were a display of fuchsia, pink, orange, red, and yellow. They were beautiful, so beautiful, Y/n thought to herself. She couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips.

Fred had gotten her flowers their first-year dating but since the last month or so, she hadn’t received many of his heartwarming gifts. It wasn’t the monocle value of a present but the thought and attention to care that captured Y/n’s heart. Fred had always been the best at creating meaningful gifts on a tight budget. Whether it was flowers he stole from school grounds, or necklaces he made out of stones she found around the Great Lake. He’d make her perfume- proving rather excellent in the Potions department. He also asked Molly to teach him how to knit in order to make Y/n a sweater. This of course delighted Molly over the moon.

George bit on the skin of his knuckles to keep for laughing at his brother. He recognized the flowers, as did Y/n. Fred had picked them from the garden outside the castle- something that had earned him a detention before. George decided not to comment on his observation, Fred was sure to murder him in his sleep if he put his apology in any jeopardy.

Fred extended the bouquet to his flustered girlfriend. He felt a sense of accomplishment while watching her reaction. It was small to most, but for as stubborn as she was, it was big in his eyes. The girl reached forward, accepting the gift with a tiny smile rising to her lips, one she didn’t force down.

For the first time since the night before, Y/n fully saw Fred. She peered directly at him silently. George glanced between the two, stuck between a dual. Without speaking, Fred took some steps forward and pulled the chair next to Y/n out. He slipped into the seat, the couple still staring at each other. Y/n studied his demeanor, he didn’t push her anymore, but he wouldn’t leave her side. Not that she would tell him but, she was happy he joined in. She didn’t want him to leave, she had missed being around him. Tearing herself away, Y/n focused herself back on the other twin.

“As I was saying, George…”

Fred drowned out the words but accepted the fact that Y/n didn’t reject him from sitting down. She also didn’t set the flowers down for the rest of their study session. The remained clutched in her hands, resting in her lap the whole time.

Monday night came in the blink of an eye. Classes had resumed and the castle was bustling in stress. When the end of the year neared, the time spent sitting through lectures was an eternity, while the weekends flew by. Fred had always hated summer break, actually, that’s not entirely true. His dismissive of break budded around the same time his relationship with Y/n became official.

Their first two years, she would spend the holiday back home in London with her family. She loved her family but once she experienced her first holiday at the Burrow, she never wanted to miss another. Her family was a bit distant, not the warm and welcoming pure-bloods like the Weasley’s, but not as cold as the Malfoy’s. Y/n’s family had no issues with her spending breaks at the Burrow, as long as she had Molly and Arthur Weasley’s approval. Molly insisted each time that there was no need for her to even ask to stay. They accepted her with open arms, ecstatic to see Fred had found such a lovely girl.

The end of the school term was coming up and Fred needed to fix things with Y/n before that happened. She planned to spend the break at his family’s home and he feared she’d take her agreement back if things weren’t improved between them. Spending almost two days stuck in the anger of his love was two days too many. Fred was going to fix this and he planned the best idea he could think of, good thing he had their friends happily available to help.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, while she was resting up from her illness Harry, Ron, Lee and George were helping Fred create his masterplan. Hermione helped in her own way by remaining near Y/n’s dorm, sitting in as the lookout. It gave her an excuse to get her school work done so she didn’t protest.

Alicia and Angelina stayed in the room. Once Y/n started to feel better, thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the girl’s altered Hermione who passed the news along to Harry as the chain continued until it reached Fred. At the confirmation, his plan was set into action. Ron was sent to retrieve the girl after Alicia and Angelina convinced her to get some food from the dining hall.

She walked through the common room then down the moving staircase, when her redheaded friend popped up. Ron scared the girl, making her stumble back, her hand placed over her chest.

“Y/n! I’m so glad I ran into you! No one has seen you all day- Angelina said you were feeling ill this morning.” Ron rambled at a fast pace. Y/n, still surprised by his sudden arrival, took a deep inhale, nodding to the boy,

“Yeah, I saw Madam Pomfrey this morning when classes started. I just had a stomach bug and she said I’d have to wait it out but the medicine she gave me seems to be doing the trick.” Y/n gave Ron a kind smile. Ron was two years younger than her but they had always been great friends. Y/n would travel to the Burrow as a guest of the twins during the holiday breaks, so Ron and her had spent a lot of time hanging out together. It was sweet of him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t seem that her health was the reason for their conversation.

“That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t happen to be heading anywhere, are you?”

“Just to get some food. I’m starving-“ Ron nodded eagerly, cutting his friend off in the process.

“That’s great! I mean, not great, just… well… uh, follow me please!” Scrambling like a mess, Ron clasped his hand over Y/n’s wrist and abruptly dragged her down the stone corridor. She couldn’t find the words to question him and allowed Ron to lead the way. Her curiosity was far too big to ignore his odd request.

Ron carried on for another five minutes then took a sharp turn, heading for the courtyard. Two figures ran off around the side of the castle in the darkness. Y/n swore she recognized the pair as George and Lee. What were they up to? Snapping her head to the younger boy, Y/n waited for him to fill her in on why he had dragged her halfway across the castle to the freezing courtyard.

“Okay! We’re here- I’m just gonna… head out. See ya, Y/n!” Ron rushed his farewell then ran off towards the direction George and Lee had escaped to. What in the world is going on? Left by herself without any explanation, Y/n threw her hand up in annoyance.

“What?”

Alone in the cold, Y/n wrapped the opening of her fuzzy cardigan against her body, attempting to keep warm. Although warmth entered her vein as a pair of arms snaked around her waist, snatching her backwards into a firm surface. She gasped, thrown off by her attacker and tried to turn in retaliation, but their grasp was far too firm. The familiarity of the hold made her body ease up. As much time as the spent together, she could recognize his touch anywhere. Fred.

His touch released a swarm of butterflies through the girl. She could feel the anger washing away as she leaned her body into his chest, having pined for his arms for two too many days than she was accustomed to.

The tall Gryffindor held her tightly. Moving forward, Fred pressed his lips against the shell of Y/n’s ear. The heat of his breath causing her to shudder as he whispered,

“I’m so happy you came, darling.”

Y/n smirked, looking up at him. The concurrent willfulness of her nature could only carry on for so long until her headstrong demeanor crumbled. A pang of chagrin still grumbled in her stomach but the sight in front of her certainly was a runner in her change of heart.

Soaking in her surroundings, Y/n realized they were just a few hundred feet outside Hargid’s hut. This explained the garden full of massive orange pumpkins. In the middle of the path was a small gazebo decorated in fairy lights and sunflowers. A small table set for two was tucked inside. Small teacup white candles line the path, creating a runway of sorts. Another candle, larger and purple, sat flickering in the breeze in the center of the neat table.

Y/n stood motionless absorbing the creation her boyfriend made- all for her. Speechlessness was not common for Y/n so Fred undoubtably began to second guess if his efforts were good enough. His fears were stomped in a matter of moments when Y/n harshly yanked at the material of his collar and placed a brisk, short kiss to his lips. Fred was startled, losing the opportunity to kiss her back but Y/n didn’t want him to. It gave her a sense of control- they still had issues they needed to work out, but she loved him nonetheless. Besides, avoiding and staying mad at Fred forever? Impossible. In two days, Y/n had to stop herself a million different times from approaching Fred and sharing a laugh with him, or kissing him, or holding his hand and giving him a hug. She didn’t want to fight off the urge anymore- and Fred couldn’t handle the distance spaced between them. Thus, being the motivation for his grand, heartfelt, date.

“I’ll assume that means you like it. I won’t take all the credit- it was my idea, but our friends are the main reason I was able to pull this off. I feel really bad and… I need to do something special for you- I don’t do that enough lately. I forget sometimes to remind you how important you are in my life and how much I love you.” Fred sheepishly smiled, nervously awaiting her reaction.

The small table was set, a new bundle of crimson red roses placed on her seat. To the side of her plate was a small box with a beautifully wrapped ribbon tied to the top. Fred had a special way of showing his love and adoration for his girlfriend, but even this was new to her. Never before had he gone so over the top to prove his feelings to her.

Y/n lifted her hand and intertwined it with Fred’s, smiling up at him,

“It’s gorgeous, Freddie.” The bashful smile made Fred’s heart melt on sight. He had prepared himself for the repetitive rejection she had been sending, so when she whispered those sweet words, his chest tightened, and his pace stopped.

Fred almost fainted in shock at the sound of her voice. He squeezed her light hand and drew it back, forcing her body into his own. Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She missed his playful ways. With the foreheads pressed against each other, Fred grinned,

“I’ve missed your voice, love.”

Although his words made her heart take flight, the reality of her hurt was still roaming. Y/n detached herself from his grasp and rested her hand on the black metal table. Her fingertips fumbled with the white cloth, it served as a distraction only for a short period of time. Fred sent her a sorrowful look. Her shift in moods was confusing to him, he only wanted to make things better.

Y/n sighed and ran her hand through her h/c locks. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply then asked,

“Why don’t you have time for me anymore, Fred?” The question of the night- or rather month. His date was beautiful, absolutely stunning. As riveting as it was, it couldn’t erase the hurt she had been experiencing.

Fred shook his head frantically, dismissing the accusation. He knew why she would think that way, he understood. It wasn’t true, though. Actions speak louder than words and Fred despised the fact that recently, his feelings for Y/n weren’t lining up with his actions. His words could only do so much. But he also knew soon, things would be different. Missing the Hogsmeade date was his fault, and he paid for it. Two days might seem minute to most, but when you spend essentially everyday attached to someone’s hip, two days of them purposely ignoring you and speaking to every soul expect you, it can feel like a lifetime. He realized a few things in this time.

Fred remembered how fun it was to act as if he was still trying to win her over. Gifts, no matter their cost, always brought a gleam to her face which never failed to make Fred grin. However, it was much more entertaining when she wasn’t upset with him and would throw the flirtatious comments right back at him. He was also reminded of how lucky he was to be with Y/n. While she ignored him, Fred found himself envious of every living being Y/n spoke to, as they were not him. When he started engulfing himself in his plans for the joke shop, his effort in his relationship had decreased and this was something he vowed to never let happen again.

“I’ll always have time for you, darling. And if I don’t, I’ll make some. I truly am sorry about this weekend- you don’t deserve that.”

“It just seems like you’re distracted, like you don’t care anymore.” Y/n batted her reddening eyes, finally throwing her worries to the air.

“No, no, Y/n, not at all. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, love. I’m a terrible excuse of a boyfriend, I never meant to create this mess. I love you so much.” Fred’s head bowed down. It tore him up to know the way his actions made her feel, the only girl he loved.

“I love you too, Freddie. I really do but I can’t feel alone in this relationship. I let our date Friday slide, even though I was annoyed, but Saturday night? I feel like it broke me. Just knowing you forgot about me-“ Y/n fought back the burning sensation in her eyes as the tears began to brim.

The anxiety blooming inside her was clear to Fred. Suppose that was the downside to dating your best friend, they can always tell when somethings wrong. Before a tear could hit the floor, he whisked her to the iron garden chair, then kneels before her, his hands holding her face as if it was a priceless, dainty piece of china.

“I didn’t forget about you, darling, that’s impossible to do. I’ve been… well I’ve been working on something with George for when we leave school next year. It’s real important to me and I wanted to share it with you but I was scared that it might not happen but… if I have your support and you with us, I know it’ll happen.”

“What’re you rambling on about, Fred?”

“Remember how I told you that George and I wanted to open a joke shop? Well, it’s happening… I think. We’re really close, we just gotta make it through next year then we’re free! We’ll have our own joke shop and get to sell our own products and start our future.”

A silence overtook the atmosphere. Y/n’s lips were stuck open in a small ‘o’ shape, eyes glued to the floor. Was he really going to leave her all alone next year? Would they have to break up? Surely, he wouldn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.

She was snapped from her own mind when her skin registered the touch of Fred’s lips as they traced her knuckles, kissing each finger as he did. His eyes then peered up to meet her own. She could tell he was serious by the feeling of his stare. Then he continued, making Y/n perk up,

“But none of that can happen without you… Y/n I want you to come with me. Move in with George and I, start a future with me. We want you to be a part of the shop. I want you there. You’re the only girl I want, for the rest of my life.”

Her once open mouth clamped shut in a swift motion. Ever since she met the twins, Y/n wanted a future with Fred. Everyone saw it as a childhood crush, but she always knew it was more. She never stopped loving him- never could. Even when his pranks took a step too far over the line. They always found their way back to each other and would work through it. Fights such as the most recent were rare- but Fred’s admission filled in a lot of empty spaces that had left Y/n sleepless for days. Finally, the crushing weight was lifted from her chest as she choked out a shaky breath.

Leaping forward from the chair, Y/n threw her body into her boyfriend’s body and clamped him in a koloa like hold. Fred chuckled in amusement, falling onto the near ground at her jump.

“Why do you have to be so lovable? I hate it. I should be angry with you, but I just love you too much. Besides, I think you did enough suffering.” She giggled as she pinched his round cheeks in her hands. Fred poked his tongue out at her and grabbed at her sides. Y/n swatted his hands away, giving him a stern glare saying, ‘don’t push it’.

Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Fred’s, smirking down at him. It was a change in roles. In their more adult situations, Fred was typically the one on top with Y/n pinned below him, but that’s a story for another time.

A small, almost whimper, sound came from Fred. He hated being teased- that was his job. Dragging out the moment, Y/n tugged on the skin of his bottom lip with her teeth, earning a groan of approval from Fred. She grazed over his mouth one last time before dipping her head down to meet his and interlocking their lips, still straddling his waist. Fred’s hips pushed towards her core out of instinct. Not ready to give in quite yet, Y/n lifted her body and shifted forward, entrapping Fred even more so in the heated kiss.

They parted for seconds to sneak a bit of air, then continued their needed make out. It had been a while since they proved their love to each other in this way. For the last month, it had been small kisses here and there when the couple had a chance to see each other. Y/n needed his touch- she needed him. Fred longed to have under him, pleasuring her. He desperately wanted to sink his head between her legs and really show her just how much he loved her.

The coldness of his fingertips hit Y/n’s skin as his fingers dug into the sides of her waist. As much as she longed to keep the exchange going, the last thing either of them needed was a detention.

Y/n plucked herself away, a small pout lining Fred’s lips. His hands remained tied up in her own, lying them on his stomach. The weight of his question seeped in like molasses. Opportunities like this presented themselves once in a lifetime, there was no way Y/n was going to let it slip by.

Rolling off his lap, Y/n plopped down on the ground to the side of Fred. Their heads turned simultaneously towards each other, Fred winking to Y/n.

This is what she wanted. To see him care for her, show his love. His attention. It was the one thing she had been striving for but now that the cat, or rather joke shop, was out of the bag, Fred didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her anymore and keep his work to himself. He was over the moon with excitement to have her join George and himself. It was everything he could hope for.

Coyly averting her peer, Y/n asked,

“Do you really mean it, Fred? You really want me to come with you and George?”

Kindly, Fred swiped his thumb under her chin and raised her head up so their eyes were level.

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else in the world then with me.” The serenity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n propped herself up to her elbows and brought Fred in a bone crushing hug. Heavy chuckles croaked from Fred as she smothered him lovingly. He managed to sneak in a tiny peck to her check and she hugged him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Y/n poked the side of Fred’s cheek, commenting,

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever, Fred, I love it!”

Throwing his arm around the elated girl, Fred just smirked.

“Duh, that’s kind the whole point of you moving in with me.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. The night was growing darker and the steady wind was escalating. In an hour, two if they were lucky, Filch would be surveying the grounds in search of students, mainly Fred and George, out past curfew. It was a sport to him, catching students breaking rules and getting to turn them in. It was part of his job, yes, but Y/n hated that he never took it easy on anything for the Gryffindors like he did the Slytherins. Fred looked at the scenery around them and remarked,

“Y’know, angel, as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the night laying with you in my arms, we can do that in my dorm room tonight… in an actual bed instead of dirt. I mean, we didn’t set up this whole thing for nothing! If I knew laying in the dirt would win you back, you should’ve told me!” His sarcastic words were received with a light slap.

“Smart ass.” Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly and started to sit up. Before she could get to her feet, a pair of hands planted themselves at her waist and lifted her. Fred had his moments, but he was always a gentleman to her. His teasing ways were comforting to Y/n, reminding her that they were good now, in comparison to the recent downfalls.

Fred helped Y/n to her seat, then jogged over to his own. He presented the girl with a cake he made for her. Hermione brought him to the kitchens and taught him how to make one. It took about three hours, he burnt the first, put too many eggs in the second, then forgot to add eggs to the third. Finally, on the fourth attempt, Fred created a passable cake. Hermione had no desire to spend any more time in the kitchen, so she quickly frosted it for him, not wanting him to ruin it this far in, then covered it and locked it in the fridge. Much to Y/n’s surprise, it was one of the best homemade cakes she’d ever had. Her teeth were practically chattering from the intense amount of sugar, but she had to keep in mind it was Fred who baked it.

After eating, Fred and Y/n took their sweet time strolling around the castle. Fred swung his hand back and forth, causing the same effect to Y/n’s. They laughed feverishly as Fred chased Y/n up the moving stairs as they raced to the common room. When they entered the room, they sprinted straight for Fred’s, still in a chase. Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Angelina, and Lee all watched in amusement as the couple seemed to be reunited.

“Wonder if they’re back together. You guys think the date worked?”

Everyone shared glances at the obliviousness of Ron. There were times when social cues and context clues just didn’t exist to Ron. George scoffed at his little brother and shook his head. The rest of the group roared with laughter as Ron’s face scrunched in irritation.

“Not sure, Ron. Why don’t you go out to our room and ask them?” George smirked mischievously causing Ron to turn white as a ghost in realization. A faint ‘oh’, tumbled out of his lips and his eyes went wide.

Despite their assumption, up in the top room in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Fred Weasley laid snoring in his large mattress, still in his school robes. Squished against his chest by his arms, Y/n was sound asleep, similarly dressed. The two didn’t care what they looked like or who came in, as long as they were together, that’s all that mattered.

[lacheri]

streets

pairing: dom!Levi x stripper!fem bodied reader

content: modern au, sex work (stripping), degradation, hint of praise kink, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, slapping, dom/sub themes, Levi's a whole freak in the sheets, also mf has a split personality, minors DNI

summary: erwin drags his lonely best friend, levi, out to a strip club.

wc: 7.7k

Violent vibrations of bass shook through your platform teasers, one leg moving tantalizingly slow in front of the other as neon lights flashed around you. The silver pole loomed in front of you, your hips swaying as you strutted across the stage. You could feel the intense stare of eyes belonging to strangers as you finally wrapped your fingers one by one around the cold metal, circling so slowly around it, pushing your ass and chest out on display. You flicked your eyes up, heavy from false eyelashes, and searched around you.

Some familiar faces, most new, met your gaze as the club’s lights lit up in a dark red. They were all focused on you, sitting forward patiently in their plush seats, waiting to devour your body with their eyes. You leaned your back against the pole, looking down at your body. You were glad you had worn your favorite set of dancing gear, a see-through black mesh bralette and a matching set of panties, and of course, your six inch sparkly pleaser heels. It was simple, yet so effective when it came to the stuffed wallets of your onlookers.

There was one man in the sea of others who caught your attention tonight though. He sat directly in the center, his expression seemingly unamused and unentertained. You wanted to roll your eyes, discarding yourself of this fantasy you were presenting on stage. You resisted the urge, instead, turning your head in the opposite direction, and rolled your torso until you sat crouched. You leaned forward, head turned straight now, ass sticking right up in the air as the tops of your breasts squished against the stage. You used the leverage from your knees to shake your exposed ass cheeks, watching the raven haired man bring his hand to his face, stroking along his jaw as he took in the sight of you.

You parted your legs slowly, bringing a knee in front of the other, crawling towards the edge of the stage. You pushed yourself up from your elbows until you were in an upright position, allowing your hips to sink forward as you continued to roll your body to the beat. Still, no reaction, or sign that he was going to throw money on you, you scoffed internally and turned your attention to the blonde gentleman sitting closely next to him, a wad of dollar bills crushing in his grip. You smirked mischievously, leaning backwards until you felt the cold metal brush against your back. Flattening out, you brought your legs up, shaking them high in the air to allow your ass and thighs to move in rhythm. You felt the air brush past you as bills went flying in the air, and you smiled in euphoria. Money was your love language, and anyone who threw bills at your half naked form became your lover for however long your dance lasted.

You placed your feet on solid ground, leveraging yourself upwards to a full stand, turning around sauntering back to the pole. You wrapped a lone leg around the cold cylinder, elongated from your heels, and jumped into a spin. Your hands gripped high above you, dangling your head back as you swung in a pretty circle, your other leg posed straight down. Once you had found this balance, you let your right hand leave the stability of the pole, running it down the front of your body, over the swell of your breasts and the flat of your stomach, stopping right before you met your center. You slid downwards until both your feet met the stage floor as you crouched once more, popping your ass out to move the muscles one at a time of your cheeks. You glanced backwards, and you were pleased to see the dark haired man’s cold steel eyes locked in on your body.

He was very handsome, as was his blonde friend. Your best guess was that they were in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. You watched the ravenette reached in his pocket, almost in disgust as he pulled out single bills. You couldn’t see the dollar amount from your angle, so you maneuvered back onto your knees to give all your attention to the man in front of you. You tried the same move as before, crawling on all fours as seductively as you could, this time your knuckles wrapped around the very edge of the stage. You learned forward, a couple of feet away from the man as his expression darkened. As if you were a gravitational pull, he leaned forward as well, only a few inches away. Close enough to reach out and touch him, your thumb and pointer finger met the collar of his white button up, softly trailing the fabric. At the same time you reached out, he was doing the same, tucking the small stack of cash in between the valley of your breasts, managing to not touch any of your exposed skin as he did so.

Thinking about your other awaiting customers, you quickly withdrew your teasing, a smirk laced on your lips. You blew the man a kiss, winking, crawling backwards on the stage.

Your onlookers ravaged your body with their eyes as you continued your dance. Your chest was rising rapidly, out of breath as you did your final spin on the pole. You ended your dance in a slow split, toes pointed and curled as you felt your clothed pussy meet the now warmed material of the stage under you. You pulled yourself up after an explosion of cash was tossed on stage, flashing a seductive smile before retreating behind the curtain to the back of the stage. You’d have one of the security guys clean your cash up before the next girl walked on, knowing they’d get a small cut from doing you the favor.

You relaxed your body into a chair in the dressing room, sighing loudly. The room was empty, makeup and costumes littered about the mirror space as all the girls working were either out on the floor or giving out private dances. You just needed the quick break, you had danced pretty hard out there. You were debating switching outfits, as this one was a little too revealing for casually strolling on the floor.

You shrugged, getting up to get into your locker space, retrieving a cropped leather jacket, chains dangling around the body, brushing against your exposed skin and as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. This would at least give you the illusion that you were covered up much more than what you had believed.

Powdering your shiny face before you exited, you breathed in deeply as neon lights greeted you once again on the club floor. You worked at a pristine strip club, ratings high and prices even higher. There was a twenty dollar fee to even get in the place, and when you finally got in the door, the bouncers up front would make a copy of your driver’s license, just in case you fucked up somehow and they needed to add to you the banned list. Which was a pretty long list, hence the photo copies.

The dancers were high quality as well, all different shapes and sizes and ethnicities. It was almost like a buffet, you could get whatever you desired, just had to go out and look first. Everyone working the shifts danced, absolutely no exception. Of course, you’d want to dance though, making exceptionally more money than on the shifts where you’d stick behind the bar crafting drinks. If you were asked by one of your friends how much money you’d make on a night like this, you’d feel guilty as you would humbly lie, not wanting to entice them into auditioning at your place of employment. When the club was at full capacity, as it was right now as you sashayed to the bar, you could easily walk home with a couple grand. This job paid your bills, bought you pretty things, put food in your belly, it meant everything to you.

“Hey, Annie! Gin and tonic, pretty please,” you batted your thick eyelashes at your favorite blonde bartender.

She only nodded, shooting a desperate plea between you and the overcrowded area of the bar area with her eyes. You snickered, feeling her pain all too well, having spent many a night behind the counter, non-stop pouring drinks. Annie slid your drink over as quickly as she could, being stolen away by an already drunken man requesting a round of shots before you could hold a conversation with her. You shrugged, taking large gulps of your glass. You were parched from your dance, alcohol quenching your thirst. You hadn’t realized you downed your cocktail until you felt the clink of ice hit the front of your teeth. You left the empty glass at the bar, turning around and leaning against the counter as you planned out your next moves.

“You should dance to Doja Cat more often,” you heard a familiar voice hum next to you, looking up into the eyes of your security guard, Connie. A black bag you knew was full of your cash was held in his grip, a playful smile on his lips, “Took me like ten whole minutes to clean this up off the stage.”

You laughed lightly along with Connie, “What would I do without you? Could you put that in my locker for me, babe? I just left the dressing room.”

“‘S gonna’ cost you,” he joked, already leaving your form to follow your request. “You owe me a round of tequila shots, Patrón!”

Connie disappeared in the sea of bodies before you could call out a remark. You sighed, flopping your head onto your shoulder, eyeing back the gazes from different men who took in your relaxed body. None of them piqued your interest, and you found yourself feeling quite lonely in the middle of the club.

This was the last place on Earth Levi had pictured himself in. When Erwin had grabbed Levi’s arm, tugging him out of his home office, a strip club was the very last place Levi could’ve fathomed ending up in.

“You, my friend, are going to have a good fucking night!” Levi recalled his blonde friend shouting at him, tossing the much smaller man into Erwin’s passenger seat of his truck. Levi had only grumbled, disappointed his hot cup of tea would become cold in his absence, the novel he had been reading left disheveled on his desk. When Erwin had pulled into a parking lot, Levi finally had taken notice of their destination.

“What the fuck are we doing at a strip club?” he spat through clenched teeth, a migraine coming on.

“Attempting to get you laid,” Erwin smirked, sliding out from the driver’s seat. Levi had no choice but to follow, Erwin not giving him even a moment to try and talk his way into heading back home.

“Why?” Levi was seething, blood pumping loudly in his ears. Why did Erwin care about Levi’s state of his love life, or lack thereof?

“Levi,” Erwin paused, sighing before the entrance. “I’ve known you since sophomore year of college, that was almost six years ago, and that entire time I’ve seen you go out on one date. You didn’t even see the girl again after it either!”

“She was boring,” Levi defended, his eyebrows furrowing. “Most people are boring. Why waste my time?”

“Because, some people are worth it. I forced you to be my friend, and look at us now!”

“You’re not an idiot,” the corner of Levi’s lips lifted.

“I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Erwin chuckled, tone sarcastic. It was true though, Levi would’ve never allowed Erwin to try and befriend him all those years ago if he had been a total lost cause. Erwin was smart though, driven and ambitious. He worked hard and never slacked off, traits Levi deeply admired. “C’mon, what’s the harm in having a bit of fun?”

There was a lot of harm, turns out. Levi was caught completely off guard by how nice this club was, bouncers all over the pristine premise. He visibly relaxed at this point, his inner germaphobe sated. Though he did use hand sanitizer generously before sitting down on the plush chair in front of the stage, Erwin chatting in his ear over how beautiful the dancers were here. Levi half listened, more interested in his glass of whiskey than his best friend. He downed it easily, almost like he was drinking water. Then the lights dropped, and you had walked out.

With all his might, Levi tried to act like he wasn’t enticed, not wanting to bring Erwin any satisfaction. It was true, Levi’s love life was basically nonexistent. Only having sex with maybe three girls in his lifetime, it had been awhile to say the least since he had seen a beautiful woman in this state of undress. When you had leaned down, breasts pressing so sinfully against the stage, crawling towards him all on fours, a primal urge rippled through Levi’s body. Like you were daring him to act out, to cave in entirely to your will.

He felt a piece of himself missing when you exited the stage, but the room felt lighter, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Erwin was in a similar frame of mind, shooting Levi a knowing look.

“Well, what’d you think?” Erwin leaned towards his friend, a small smile on his face.

“I think that’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” Levi groaned, uncomfortable admitting this, rubbing his hands across his face.

“You should pay her for a dance, I know I’m definitely going to get one later,” Erwin’s eyes followed a thick dark skinned woman, swaying her hips, winking at Erwin as she walked past. He pushed up off his chair then, “Actually, hold that thought.”

The absence of his friend so suddenly had left Levi feeling awkward and out of place. His lips held an amused scowl as he watched Erwin confidently approach the woman, her luscious lips twisting into a smile of her own as she grabbed his hand, and led him away from Levi’s view. The ravenette stood then, empty glass in tow, and decided that he would need another drink to get through the rest of the night.

That’s when Levi had seen you, leaning so casually against the marble countertops of the bar as if you had owned the place. Your eyes drooping in disinterest, too cool to associate with the crowd around you. You didn’t even seem to notice various men eyeing your form, talking amongst each other, never breaking their focus from you. And Levi had to admit, you did look so fucking cool. The realization that Levi himself had joined the crowd of your many onlookers startled him, beginning to feel embarrassment and guilt for admiring you almost as if you were an object. When your eyes had met his though, and a pretty smile changed your entire expression, any and all thoughts and feelings rocketed out of Levi’s mind.

He felt his feet move towards you before he could think thoroughly. You stayed, still and collected, eyes never breaking from his. As his strides graced closer and closer, Levi broke the connection from you, stopping to your side and calling out an order to a blonde bartender, ignoring you entirely.

Your shock rang through you like a gong, deep and humbling. This wasn’t what you had predicted in those fleeting seconds when you had seen the raven haired man making intentful strides to you. He was close enough to your body that you could hear the soft cotton of his white button up brush against the thick fabric of your leather jacket, and you felt licks of insecurity, a rare emotion for you.

“What? Shocked I’m not down on my knees begging for you?” Levi couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips, noticing from the corner of his eye that you had stiffened dramatically.

You whipped your head to see him, to see his stupid expression as you were sure this man thought he was God’s gift to mankind. You knew this personality well, a common one with your clients believing that because you were after their money, you were technically working for them. To your surprise, you were met with the man’s steel grey eyes hard set in disinterest.

“No one’s going to give you a dance with that attitude, sir,” you huffed, clawing mentally to keep your cool. “Keep it up and watch how fast we get you kicked out.”

This man, a complete stranger to you, only ‘tsk’ed, digging in his black slacks to pull out his thick wallet, “I’ll pay you a grand if you take me back for a dance right now.”

Oh shit, you blinked, trying to process his offer. That’s a lot of fucking money.

“You have a funny way of showing that you like me,” you quirked an eyebrow, debating internally. “What’s the catch? What’s your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Your kink, your game, what’re playing at?”

“I’m not going to pay you to stand there and talk to me about what I like in privacy,” Levi scoffed, slightly embarrassed at the very public conversation that he believed was always meant to be in private.

“Fine,” your hand shot out, circling around his bicep, his strong bicep. “Let’s go, sir.”

Honestly the pet name was a shot in the dark, your best guess at what could possibly please this very attractive client. His moody attitude was throwing you off of your very whimsical and flirty facade, parts of your real personality peeking through the cracks. You didn’t know that Levi was actually enjoying this interaction, feeling flutters of admiration at your sharp tongue and quick mindedness.

You guided him to the back of the club, a bouncer stationed outside of a hallway. You nodded to the burly man, and he stepped aside and allowed the two of you to enter the hallway of doors. Numbers gold plated on each wooden door led the way, and Levi was starting to feel flickers of impatience.

The feelings settle once you unlock a door, pushing it open and Levi gazing inside. A plush leather couch sat in the center of the small room, LED lights flashing different colors slowly along the ceiling, and you guided him to sit down. His face was passive, and had you known the man’s thoughts in that moment, you’d know that Levi was unbelievably nervous. While he had the help of the liquid courage provided by his whiskey neats, Levi was incredibly inexperienced when it came to beautiful women, more specifically, you.

“What’s your name, love?” you cooed, hand trailing over his bicep as you placed yourself next to the ravenette, taking in his stiffened form.

“Levi,” he managed to choke out, feeling the deep stir of arousal from your simple touch. How could he not be attracted to you? The way you pressed yourself to his side, so tempting, you were an enchantress.

You mumbled out your stripper name, and Levi felt a pang of unease knowing that the ridiculous chosen name was not your real one. Your fingers trailed electricity over his clothes, the pads of your digits playing with the end of his sleeve. You leaned further in, breathing right against the shell of his ear.

“Ready for your dance, Levi?”

Levi gulped, raising a hand to push back his fringe from his face as you stood before him. His hands finally settled atop his thighs, legs comfortably opened and spread as he took a deep breath in, willing his mind and body to relax. Like Erwin had said, what’s the harm in having a little fun?

Goosebumps raised on Levi’s skin as the smooth bass of a somewhat familiar song kicked in. He had heard it on the radio once or twice, finding it quite catchy and therefore had never felt the need to change the station. His heart hammered in his ribcage, mouth drying as he watched you shift into character. A very fitting one, he thought to himself, a total and complete vixen.

Your back arched as you posed before him. His eyes drinking you in hungrily lit a flame deep within the depths of your soul, feeling the dire need to please the man in front of you. You bent down, tips of your fingers brushing against your toes, and then you threw your head back, hair falling seductively around you at the force. Levi was cursing profanities in his mind, a very verbal ‘fuck’ exiting his lips at the sight.

You turned your back to your handsome client, giving him a full view of your scantily clad ass as you teasingly slid your arms out of your jacket. Levi’s eyes followed every move, afraid to miss a single thing, every detail of you and your body becoming his biggest priority. Your leather jacket fell to the floor noisily, chains clanking as they hit the wooden planks. You threw a longing gaze over your shoulder, a pretty smirk on your face, and Levi had the startling realization that he had never felt a stronger attraction to a woman in his life. In fact, the intrusive thought had his mind traversing through past experiences, and had him wondering if had truly ever felt the tingling of arousal that you had awakened in him.

“Levi?” you brought your fingers under his chin to his surprise, angling his gaze to meet your curious expression.

“I’m alright, just,” Levi paused, letting his focus drift away from you. “This is my first time.”

Your face softened at his confession, genuine concern as you spoke, “‘S okay, just let me know if you want to stop at any point. And if there’s anything at all you want me to do, tell me.”

Levi was mildly stumped at the second half of your response. He could make requests of you, of this dance? The last thing he wanted in the world was for you to stop, in fact he never wanted this moment to end as you resumed your routine, eyes never leaving his.

Levi felt the blood rush to his lower half as you positioned yourself on the balls of your feet, leaning over his seated deposition, ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear, “You know, you’re quite handsome. You probably get that all the time, but truly, you are.”

“Thank you,” Levi managed to mumble, thoroughly embarrassed by the heat of your compliment. “You’re very pretty.”

You smirked, pushing yourself back to take in his shy appearance. You had a hunch that maybe if you provided Levi the confidence he needed, this hesitance would melt away. With that in mind, you turned your body once more, hands reaching behind you to undo the clasp of your lacy bra. Levi’s eyes widened, his fingers twitching in anticipation. When the material was released, you let out a silent sigh of relief from the pressure of the tight material. Your mesh top fell off your arms, you gently flicked it to join your jacket on the floor. Instead of showing your freed breasts to your handsome client, you bent down to your toes once more, shaking your ass and thighs. Levi’s eyes were ready to roll out of his skull.

You finally did turn, crouching between the space in between his thighs. Your hands slid from the bottom of his shins to the top of his thick thighs, you felt the subtle flex of his muscles as he tensed. His lustful expression showed you that Levi was less than hesitant, actually he was really enjoying himself now. This was his private show, and Levi was feeling extraordinarily special. He didn’t dare to raise his touch to grace your exposed skin though, not wanting to risk breaking any rules.

Your knees heaved you up once more, and you moved to straddle the raven haired man’s lap. You felt the hump of his erection between your thighs, and you bit back a moan at the sensation. Levi was in a similar frame of mind, trying not to let his bodily instincts and desires take over entirely. You rolled your hips, teasing his clothed length, and his grasp on control was nearly lost. Your naked breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardened from your excitement. By no means were you the kind of girl to sleep with your clients or even entertain the thought, but when Levi’s lids fluttered and he bit the inside of his lip, you were rethinking every morally right ideal you held within yourself.

On par with the beat of the song, you leaned back, hands on his knees, and thrust your hips lazily in rhythm. Levi watched your ribcage expand and disappear under your naked torso, your navel shrinking and opening at the rolling motion. You flicked your hair behind your shoulder blades, your lips parted, and you let out a shaky breath. You were flushed against his hardened member, you could feel your center weeping at the contact. This was not your intention, to rub yourself all over this stranger, but the way his hands twitched and his eyes were so hungry had you feeling things you only indulged in by yourself, in the comfort of your bed and with your favorite pink vibrator.

“Make it fifteen hundred, and I’ll let you take me back to your place,” you mewled against your better judgement.

Levi’s concentration was broken, the whites of his eyes exposed as he shot his attention to your face. His lips contorted into an egotistical smirk, a contrast to his past shyness, “We haven’t even been in this room for five minutes, and you’re already wanting to leave?”

“Two grand,” your eyebrows furrowed, pushing your hips into his pelvis, satisfied when you heard a hiss leave his lips. “Keep teasing, and my price goes higher.”

“I’ll pay you whatever I want,” Levi’s features darkened. “Get your things. I want you to finish your dance when we get back to my house.”

You never did complete that dance. Levi was gripping your thighs and lifting you before you could even protest, your back slamming into the wall after he had unlocked his front door. His lips were all over you, your lips, your neck, your exposed collarbones. Your fingers were woven into his scalp, clinging desperately to the man.

He could barely contain himself on the drive home, seated palming your thighs in the back seat of a taxi. He had sent a quick text to Erwin, not explaining much but letting him know he’d talk to him tomorrow. Erwin hadn’t responded, not that Levi cared, but he had a feeling his blonde friend was in a very similar situation.

“You,” Levi growled into your neck, sliding his hands greedily under the t-shirt you had thrown on in the locker room of the club, “Are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

His teeth sunk where he could feel your pulse the strongest under his lips, and you wantonly moaned out. Although Levi lived a generically organized lifestyle, in this moment all he craved was chaos. He wanted to see your perfect body littered in his marks, his bites and bruises. He wanted to wreck you, bring you out of your nonchalant attitude, stupefying you. Levi was going to fucking break you in all the best ways.

“Levi,” you breathed shakily. “Please, bedroom.”

Levi rammed his clothed hips into the center of your spread legs, your ankles hooked around his waist in this position. You gasped, moaning at the contact. Your nails raked up his back, and you felt a similar urgency as he was feeling, wanting to feel the tear of his skin underneath your fingernails. You felt Levi’s hands grip your thighs to adjust his grip, and soon he was carrying you into the unfamiliar territory of his home. He guided you easily up his staircase, reaching his opened bedroom door and unceremoniously throwing you on your back on his mattress.

Levi was on top of you in an instant, his lips swallowing yours as he grabbed the collar of your shirt with both his hands. He fisted the material, and with a quick fluid motion, he tore the fabric in half. You were shocked, but figured you could easily borrow Levi’s clothing upon your exit. You didn’t stop him as he treated your bra in a similar fashion, thankfully not ripping the expensive lace. He reached under the arch of your back, unclasping it, and you pulled your arms through the straps and the remnants of your poor shirt. Your breasts were on full display for his eyes now, and Levi’s mouth pulled away from you. His hands snaked up your exposed torso, thumbs rolling past your hardened nipples to your neck.

Levi wrapped his right hand around your neck, and your breath hitched in your throat as he mumbled, “You like it rough, don’t you, brat? Want me to use your body however I want?”

You didn’t answer, wanting to seek punishment. His fingers tightened, and you felt a gush of arousal slicken your lower lips. Your hips bucked upwards, eyes pleading as you watched a sick satisfaction cross his expression.

“Answer me,” he spat venomously, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered out, feeling the tips of your ears redden. You were so turned on right now, body responding loudly to every word and touch.

“Good girl,” he praised, not releasing his grip around your neck. His left hand stayed at your breast, tweaking your right nipple roughly, rolling the beaded skin between his forefinger and thumb.

You whimpered, bringing your own hands to rest above your head, stretching your skin more for Levi. His eyes were honed in on your face, all your desperate expressions as his hand left your chest and dipped under the elastic of your grey cotton shorts to meet the lace trim of your panties. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as you panted. When you tried to reach up to capture his soft lips in a kiss, he only squeezed tighter around your neck, discouraging you from trying again. He wanted to watch you squirm, memorize the way your eyes would flicker and your lips would quiver at his touch. His fingers tugged the cotton of your panties aside, and ran two digits across your folds, the pads soaked at the contact.

He circled your clit agonizingly slow, spreading your essence over your hood. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, back arching up to feel some kind of skin to skin contact. Levi was not going to allow this though, and ripped his touch away from your cunt. You whined at the loss, tears pricking on the edge of your lash line. You yelped suddenly when you felt the harsh slap of his palm against your folds. Levi’s gaze was hardened, lips almost pulled back in a sneer.

“Stop, or you’re not getting what you want,” he growled, and even though he was hovering over you, you could swear you felt the vibration from his chest deep in your bones.

You meekly nodded, willing your body to lay there as still as you could be. He smoothed his palm over the reddened area of your center, and his soft, teasing touch returned. His middle and pointer finger spread your lips open, ring and pinky finger kept your panties tucked to the side. Levi tucked his digits inbetween your heat, caressing your folds. It took everything in your resolve to not buck your hips at the feeling of the roll of your clit in between the pads of his fingers. You whined, blinking tears away rapidly.

Levi felt merciful for a moment, and fled his intimate touch down to your fluttering entrance. You could feel your muscles clenching in anticipation, letting out a moan of relief as he dipped the two extremities into your tight hole.

“You’re so wet, all because of me?” Levi teased, brushing his lips against yours. “Such a good slut, you’ve wanted me to touch you since you got on that stage tonight, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you panted sharply, his fingers curled inside your walls and began to pump. “Wanted your attention so bad.”

“Like I had a choice,” he chuckled without humor, flicking his wrist hard into your core. “You came out looking like that, what was I supposed to do? This, you on your back, so needy, this was the only conclusion.”

He fucked his hand harshly into your sopping cunt at the end of his sentence, sending your mind reeling and your lungs gasping for air. Your plush walls encapsulated his fingers, you could feel the ridges of his knuckles deep inside of you. His finger pads prodded your sensitive spongy spot, and upon hearing your deep groan of pleasure, Levi aimed for that destination with every thrust.

“Feels so good,” you praised, your knuckles white from gripping the pillows above you. Levi still had his right fist around your throat, he could feel your esophagus tighten as every muscle in your body clenched.

With a hasty release, his right hand came down to pay your heaving breasts attention. His lips replaced his fingers, sucking harshly on the most sensitive parts of your throat. You were almost screaming as he plunged in and out of your pussy, your left nipple harshly being pulled with his other hand, his teeth sinking into your neck. Your clit was throbbing with need, your coil in your stomach desperately searching for any form of release.

“Levi,” you cried out loudly. “Wanna’ cum.”

“Are you asking or telling me?” he grumbled against the column on your neck.

“Asking, please, need you to touch my clit,” you begged, too far gone to care about vulgarity, clearing noting the ravenette’s disregard for formality in the heat of the moment.

He let out a ‘tch’ at the nape of your neck, and pulled his fingers from your dripping heat, “You’re not cumming unless it’s around my cock.”

With his soaked hand, he tore your shorts and panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You lifted your legs, allowing Levi to slide them down the rest of the way and throw them onto the floor. Stark naked and exposed completely to the man now, your knees bent in the air, Levi slapped the backs of your thighs. You whimpered, clenching around nothing upon impact. He let out a groan, tugging his button up over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Your hands left the safety of the pillows above your head, fumbling with the belt that rested on his hips. He met your hands, finishing the job for you. Belt unbuckled, slacks unzipped and freed, he stood quickly, shoving the pants and his briefs to the floor.

You jaw slacked in amazement at the sheer size of his cock. Levi was hung, his member standing tall and proud and mouth watering. He returned to you in an instant, positioning his lower half to align with your spread center. His dick throbbed at the wet contact of your vulva, teasing the head against your clit. You threw your head back, arching your back and angling your hips to allow Levi better leverage. His fist flew to the base of his aching length, roughly fucking himself above you. You could feel the tightness of his knuckles as he brushed against you, and you moaned out his name.

“Such a needy little slut,” Levi degraded you, face set in false anger. “Desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” your eyes screwed shut, you could feel the pounding in your pussy. “Want you so fucking bad. Please fuck me.”

“Please, what?” he cocked an eyebrow, letting out a groan as his thumb pressed into the underside of his head.

“Please, sir,” you begged as a tear fell down your cheek.

“All you had to do was ask, gorgeous,” he chuckled darkly, sinking the tip into your tight little hole.

You thought he would enter you slowly to allow you to adjust to his enormous girth, you were sadly mistaken though as he plunged his entire length deep inside of your soaking pussy. You let out a strangled whimper, more tears rolling down to your chin. Levi wouldn’t give you the pleasure of patience, pulling out just enough to threaten his head falling out, snapping his hips right back until he brushed your cervix.

“Fuck,” Levi moaned loudly, his hands circling the tops of your thighs, throwing your ankles over his shoulders. “Feels so fucking good.”

All you could do was fist the bedsheets under you as he took you violently. Sobs of pleasure racked through your chest, tits bouncing at the sheer force of his thunderous thrusts. The sounds of your cunt squelching around his intrusion was deafening accompanied by the smack of the skin of his balls hitting your ass. Levi pounded mercilessly into your heat, searching for his own heights before addressing yours. Of course he wouldn’t cum before you did, but the way your pussy fluttered around him gave him clear signs that it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.

Levi let out an animalistic growl as his pace quickened, slapping the meat of your thighs as his grip adjusted your knees to your chest. He leaned forward, and in the dim lighting you could see the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His steel colored eyes were locked in with yours, lips parted as he breathed heavily from exertion. Levi could feel the burn in his hips as he gave you everything he could, fucking you as hard and as fast as he could.

You were nearly screaming, unable to bite back any noises at his assault. You felt his fingers slither around your neck once more, tightening dangerously around your windpipe. He could feel the collection of your tears in the dip of your throat, and his cock was throbbing at the sensation.

“Crying ‘cause it feels so good, aren’t you?” Levi snarled, placing his sweaty forehead to yours. When you didn’t answer, he released your throat to bring his wet palm in a roaring slap to your cheek, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you screamed at the tops of your lungs, your cunt contracting at the stinging pain turned pleasure. “Please, please, please, let me cum!”

Levi barked out a groan as he felt your plush walls tighten, making his hips stutter in his rhythm. His free hand came down to your clit, slapping the top of your pussy with no real force. His thumb commenced its own pattern then, rubbing the engorged bud with vigorous intention. Levi plowed briskly, his climax on the horizon. You were quivering under him, fat tears leaking from your eyes as hiccups and whines left your throat. You could feel the soreness in your hole, and knew the second you came, you’d be squeezing the ever loving fuck out of Levi’s massive cock.

“So close,” you sniffled, vocals raw from the pressure of Levi’s fist clenched around your esophagus.

“Gonna’ cum all over me, pretty girl? Yeah, fuck, c’mon, my little fucking slut,” Levi’s eyes were smoldering, veins prominent in his neck as he approached his own release.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” your eyes attempted to close.

Levi slapped your cheek, “Keep your fucking eyes open, bitch. Don’t look away, wanna’ watch you.”

You nodded meekly, the build up in your stomach at its peak. His thumb circled faster, and you could feel every single motion in your pussy as he slammed his fat tip against your g-spot. It was too much, too intense, and you felt your coil snap as you clenched viciously around him.

With a loud gasp of air, not enough due to Levi’s fingers digging into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips. Your vision blurred over in thick tears, your skin was burning hot as Levi cursed above you. Your pussy contracted around him in a mind blowing flow, pleasure seeping in every pore and every cell in your body. If Levi had neighbors, or roommates, the noises you were making would be entirely concerning, sounding as if something gruesome was occurring in his home.

Levi was pushed out of your cunt from the pressure, and he dared not to slip back in your contracting hole out of fear of dumping his seed deep in your womb. He pushed your legs flat down after removing his touch from your clit, positioning his hips over yours as he fucked his fist at the same rapid pace he was drilling into your center. Loud moans escaped his parted lips, pistoning his pelvis with a death grip on his red swollen cock. Thick ropes of cum shot across your breasts, his thrusts never slowing.

You pushed your breasts together with your hands, fingers toying at your nipples to visually stimulate the man above you. He growled at the sight, “So fucking hot, yeah, take my fucking cum.”

He stilled, head thrown back as he let his girth fall from his grip, his cum oozing from his slit. You moaned at the sight, your mouth watering. Had you not been in such a hurry from the start, you would’ve gladly swallowed his cock down your throat, consuming every drop of his load. Maybe another time, if there would be one, you thought.

Your orgasms simultaneously slowed, until the two of you heaved heavily from the hard labor of the vigours fucking that had just occured. Levi moved off of you, grabbing tissues from his bedside table, and wiped up your torso. Before he could collect all of his cum though, you let a finger dip into a puddle in between your breasts, Levi’s eyes watching adamantly as you placed the digit on your tongue, rolling your eyes back into your head at the taste.

“You’re so needy,” he teased, a smirk crossing his exhausted face.

“Maybe,” you giggled breathlessly. “Maybe I just wanted a taste.”

Levi hummed, pushing back his dampened bangs from his forehead. He gazed at you in curiosity as you pushed your aching body off the bed, wincing at the indistinct soreness between your thighs, “I have clothes you can wear, don’t worry about giving them back either.”

Ah, so here came the awkward after the one night stand conversation. You smiled politely then, “I wasn’t worried. ‘Was gonna’ steal them one way or another.”

“Lucky I didn’t catch you then,” he mused, pushing himself off the mattress as well. “You’re welcome to take a shower, if you need to. I’m about to get in myself.”

“Nah, I should probably get home, it’s late,” you searched for your phone on the floor, finding it in your jacket pocket as you tapped on the Uber app.

“I can drop off the money tomorrow at the club, if you’re working,” Levi leaned against his bedroom wall, biting his lip as his demeanor changed back to his previous one from earlier.

You smirked, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Baby, believe me, you couldn’t pay me to have sex like that. I wanted to fuck you, the money was just a fun little fantasy.”

Levi felt his ego inflate at your confession, his own lazy smirk rolling off his lips, “Let me pay for your Uber at least.”

And so he did, walking you out to the car when it arrived. You were swallowed whole by his comfortable clothing, and he placed a sweet kiss to your lips before you ducked your head into the vehicle, closing the door behind you. The car drove off swiftly, and Levi dug his hands in his pockets, walking back inside the comfort of his home to take that much needed shower.

The usual neon lights greeted you as you spun around the pole the next evening, less customers this time. You were feeling the undeniable soreness of your throat and center as you twirled around. Thankful for full coverage foundation to hide the bruises and marks littered across your entire body, no one had questioned why you were walking with such a limp. Well, aside from your favorite security guard.

“You’re off your game tonight,” Connie noted as you placed your sore body onto the bar stool. “Any reason why you can’t sit fully down without wincing?”

You flicked a unamused glance his way, “Any reason why you’re being so fucking nosy?”

“Just wondering why that guy left with last night has been following you around the club all night is all,” Connie took a swig from his beer mug, eyes batting to point behind you. “Hm, yes, very strange.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head in the direction of his gaze. Your breath caught in your throat as Levi strided cooly over to you, a small smirk on his handsome face. He ordered a whiskey neat over the counter next to you, and cleared his throat as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Thought I’d actually get to catch your dance this time,” Levi greeted. “Y’know, since I missed it last night.”

You heard Connie snort obnoxiously, and your eyes threw daggers in warning. Connie threw his hands up to mock surrender, taking his drink and walking away. You returned your attention to the ravenette beside you, “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Just couldn’t get you off my mind,” his eyes trailed to the pout of your lips. “When does your shift end?”

“In a few hours, why?”

“I wanna’ see what kind of place a girl like you can afford,” he smirked. “Maybe get a private dance this time.”

“You do pay pretty well,” you flirted, trailing your fingers up to the collar of the fashionable black sweater. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll make it worth the pain,” Levi breathed out cockily, swiping his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. “Wouldn’t want to get out of here now, would’ya?”

“I guess I could for the right price,” you parted your lips, lightly biting down on the tip of his digit.

Levi didn’t respond, instead he grabbed your wrists and led you impatiently out the door. You’d text Connie later and have him hold your tips until your next shift. You had a very important client to dance for.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader is looking for her teenage sister’s service dog one day, she runs into Dean Winchester who thankfully saw him run past. When she arrives, her sister is fine aside from a sprained ankle but Dean’s decided to follow along and help get her sister home...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, mention of car accident/death

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Please enjoy this first part! …

_________

“Toast! Toast!” you shouted as you ran down a street. “Toast boy!”

“Uh, you okay?” said a guy walking on the other side of the street. He was raising an eyebrow and you shook your head.

“Toast is a dog,” you said.

“Oh, gotcha. I thought you were nuts for a minute,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t seen a german shepard around have you?” you asked.

“I saw one run down the block a few minutes ago,” he said. You looked the direction he pointed and you started sprinting. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Can’t talk!” you shouted back. You ran down the block and across the street over to the park. You ran over to the basketball court and saw Toast there next to Tessa. She was sat up and holding onto his vest when you jogged over to her. “Tess. Are you okay? Did you have a seizure?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. She was holding her ankle and you saw the swelling. “I think I broke it playing. My phone’s over in my bag. I told Toast to get it but I guess he ran home and got you instead.”

“He barged in through the doggy door, I thought he was just nuts at first,” you said. You heard footsteps behind you and the man from the street was there panting.

“You found your dog,” he said as he caught his breath. 

“Yeah,” you said, the man wincing when he saw Tessa’s ankle. “We’re all set.”

“She needs a doctor,” he said.

“Tessa, you okay here while I run home to get my car?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said. “Toast’ll stay.”

“I can carry her,” said the man. You both stared at him and he shrugged. “Save you a trip.”

“Are you some kind of weirdo?” you asked. 

“Says the woman running through the neighborhood shouting Toast,” he smiled back.

“Alright. Tess if you’re cool with it…” you said, the man nodding.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean will carry you back to the house and I’ll drive you to urgent care,” you said. “If you do try anything though Dean, Toast will rip your face and junk off, just to be clear.”

“Got the message,” he said. Tessa climbed on his back and he was careful of her ankle while you grabbed her bag. You walked with Toast by Dean’s side back the few blocks towards home. “I think it’s just a sprain actually. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You play basketball?” you asked.

“No. I’m a doctor is all. First glance it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Are you single? Y/N’s single,” she said.

“You’re a little shit, Tessa,” you said. Dean chuckled and Toast bumped his leg. “He wants you to get on the sidewalk.”

“Will do,” he said, Toast giving some space once he’d stepped up off the road. “He’s very intelligent.”

“We’ve only had Toast two years but he’s been very good with us,” you said. “He’s Tessa’s. I just feed him and pick up his poop.”

“I have school, loser.”

“I have work, loser,” you said. 

“You guys must be sisters,” he said. “I’m a big brother. I would know.”

“If your younger brother is single and half as good looking-”

“Keep it in your pants, Tess,” you said. 

“I like you two,” he chuckled. “Sorry Tessa but he’s probably a little too old for you.”

“They always are,” she sighed.

“You’re seventeen. You’re fine,” you said. “Besides college has way more attractive guys and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, Elmdale community college. Known for it’s hotties,” she mumbled.

“Elmdale University has some good choices,” you said.

“I thought it was too expensive,” she said.

“Well I was gonna tell you this at dinner but I applied for a different job awhile ago. I heard back this morning. I accepted. It’s double what I was making before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With your grades you can get a half-ride and I figure between inheritance and my new salary, you can do your four year out of the gate without loans,” you said.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly. “Really.”

“You still need your part-time job if you want to get stuff for yourself though. I’m sorry. I can’t make it work if-”

“S’okay,” she said. “I can’t believe I can go to the university.”

“I called up the school earlier and talked to your guidance counselor. We gotta work on your application but we can make it work,” you said.

“Can I get a car? I know I can’t afford room and board but maybe I can get something used so you don’t have to drive me all the time?” she asked.

“Tessa…” you sighed. You knew you couldn’t afford insurance on two cars at the moment and everything else and she wouldn’t make enough part time to cover all the car expenses herself. “I-”

“I can pick up more shifts,” she said.

“Tessa, I want you to enjoy college. I sure did. I’ll give you rides whenever you want. I’ll drop you off in the morning and pick you up at night. That would work, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t even care about my ankle. I can get my art degree!” she said.

“Tessa.”

“I’m joking,” she laughed. “Art minor?”

“You can minor in whatever you like but please for my sanity major in something you can get a job in?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. You rounded a corner and started to walk up a driveway, Dean setting Tessa down in the passenger seat of your car. You opened the back and Toast jumped in, Dean smiling when you shut both the doors.

“Thanks,” you said. “For helping us out.”

“Sounds like you two know how to solve problems on your own,” he said. “Happy to help. Here.”

He dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card.

“If you ever need a doctor, I’m two blocks over,” he said. “Or just to talk.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, Dean.”

It was around nine when you were sitting on the front porch with a glass of whiskey in your hand. You drank slowly, eyes catching a man in a baseball cap and reflective shirt jogging by.

“Do you always run at night?” you called, Dean stopping at your front walkway. “Cause I never see you run at night and I sit out here a lot.”

“Whew well let’s stop that charade cause running is so not my thing,” he said. He breathed hard for a moment as he walked up the steps. You nodded to the other chair and poured him a glass, Dean drinking it down. “Your sister okay?”

“Yeah. Just a sprain,” you said. “Still gotta pay the deductible for the x-ray though.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” you asked.

“Thirty one,” he said.

“Twenty eight.”

“Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They and Tessa were in an accident two years ago. It’s just us two now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m slowly getting used to be a guardian,” you said.

“I raised my little brother. My parents are still around but they fought a lot. I get becoming the parent when you’re not ready.”

“Do you ever get to just be a sibling again?” you asked.

“Yes. But they have to grow up first and you got a few more years ahead of you before it happens,” he said.

“I figured.”

“What does she have? Toast is a service dog I saw.”

“She gets seizures sometimes. It’s from the accident. She hasn’t had one in seven months. Fingers crossed we got her on the right mix of meds finally,” you said.

“So who takes care of you?”

“My buddy Jack Daniels. Sometimes I hang out Jim Bean too.”

“I’m partial to Johnny Walker,” smiled Dean.

“Very nice. I don’t drink much. Too tired most of the time,” you said.

“So nobody takes care of you then.”

“Who takes care of you?”

“Good point,” he said. “But I didn’t have it this rough.”

“We’re getting by. We always do.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” he said. “Take care of yourself every once in a while is all.”

“When she’s done with school I will.”

“She’s got five years left. You won’t last that long,” he said.

“Watch me.”

“Who worked on your sister at the urgent care tonight?”

“Dr. Novak. Why?”

“Cas is a good friend. I’ll see about getting that x-ray test off the bill,” he said as he stood up.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, heading down the steps. “You want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“...No.”

“You want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at noon? I’m buying. Nothing too fancy,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He smiled and nodded, spinning around and sliding right off the last two steps to his bottom. You rushed down them and he groaned, shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he said, grunting as he stood. “Oh my ass hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said, Dean laughing.

“I definitely like you,” he said as you helped him take a few steps. “I’m alright. I’ll swing by tomorrow then.”

“Bye Dean,” you said.

“Bye Dean!” called Tessa from her bedroom window upstairs.

“Oh my God, go to bed!” you shouted back.

“It’s nine and I’m not twelve,” she said.

“Goodnight ladies,” chuckled Dean, waving as he headed back down the path. You gathered up the bottle and glasses, bringing them inside and locking up for the night. A few minutes later you were upstairs in Tessa’s room, frowning as she giggled while looking through her phone.

“Oh come on,” she said as she rolled her eyes at you. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor, he’s single and he’s a dork that just fell on his butt in front of you cause he’s so nervous and trying to play it cool. Like what is wrong with him?”

“Nothing. We have a date tomorrow,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“We used to talk about guys,” she said. 

“I know,” you said. You picked at the wood, Tessa putting her phone down.

“Y/N. You’re not my mom. I know you gotta act like her sometimes but you’re not. Mom and dad would want you to go on dates and stuff. I haven’t seen you do anything fun in years.”

“I barely knew how to be an adult for just me,” you said. “You’re my priority now.”

“I’m not in a hospital bed anymore. My seizures are under control and I got Toast to watch out for me just in case. Dean had a point. You gotta take care of yourself,” she said. “Including me going to community college.”

“Tessa-”

“It’s both our inheritance and you can’t spend all of it on me. I can do two years at community and transfer to the university after.”

“Tess. You don’t have to do that. I did the math and it’ll work out.”

“When’s the last time you bought something for yourself? Seriously when?”

“I bought a new bedspread two weeks ago.”

“You needed one. That doesn’t count. When-”

“Before mom and dad died, Tess. Is that what you want me to say? They made good money but you had medical bills. Do I want a new winter coat? Sure. Do I want to splurge and by myself a nice pair of leggings? Of course. I want things. But I want us to stay in this house. I don’t want us to get shoved in a tiny apartment. I want you to be able to go to college like I did and not worry about this crap. I’m the grown up, not you. I choose how to spend the money.”

“Fine,” she said. She grabbed the crutch by her bed and got up, going to her dresser. She opened her jewelry box and grabbed a wad of cash, holding it out to you. “It’s three hundred. I want you to have it.”

“Tessa, no.”

“I earned it. I get to choose how to spend it,” she said. “You’ve always told me that. Buy a coat and leggings and whatever else you want.”

“Tessa. It’s yours. You were saving up to buy an iphone.”

“I don’t need a fucking phone. I need my sister to stop looking like she cries herself to sleep every night. Just take it,” she said. You shook your head and she shoved the money in your hand. “Y/N, take it.”

“Alright,” you said. 

“Good.” She waited a beat before pulling you into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “You got plans tomorrow night?”

“I was gonna sleepover Hailey’s house if that’s okay?” she said.

“Yeah. You guys have fun,” you said. “Just be careful on your ankle.”

“Duh,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I’m kinda beat. Sunday for sure?” you said. 

“Okay. Night,” she said.

“Night, Tess,” you said. You went next door to your room, opening your desk drawer and opening the envelope inside. You counted the money she’d given you and added it to the front. You definitely had enough for her phone now and her birthday was only a few weeks away. You smiled and put it away, writing out a few bills before you gathered up your pajamas and walked down the hall to the bathroom. You kept going though, down to the shut door. You pushed it open, the room cold and dark. You flipped on a light, a coating of dust on everything again.

“Y/N?” said Tessa from the other end of the hall. You turned off the light and shut the door, Tessa by the bathroom when you walked back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna shower quick before bed. Shout if you need something.”

“Yeah. Night.”

Dean POV

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean after he’d gotten out of the shower and was laying in bed. 

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” asked Sam on the other end of the phone. 

“I think I just went full on weirdo on this girl I met today.”

“Well that’s obvious but what’d you do? You didn’t like stalk her or anything.”

“She lives in the neighborhood. I kinda went jogging past her house tonight and she was sat on the front porch.”

“Okay that’s kinda creepy,” said Sam. Dean ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I gave off creeper vibes but she might have just been polite. I don’t know. We’re going out tomorrow,” said Dean. He was quiet as he shut his eyes. “Which sucks cause I really like her too. I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird.”

“Maybe she’ll have pity on you and let it slide. Where’d you meet her? I thought you swore off women after your last hookup went bad,” he said. Dean didn’t speak and ran his hand over his face again. “De I know something happened that night.”

“Sammy I got tired of hooking up. I’m too old for it. I just want a girl to go home to at the end of the day and laugh with. That’s all there is to it,” said Dean.

“Dean I was still living with you at the time. You were off for days. I know-”

“If you’re gonna bring this shit up again-”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to hear you excited about a girl again...and you can tell me anything. Anything, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re twenty seven. You’re a kid,” said Dean. He rolled over on the bed and lay on his stomach, putting his hands under his chin. “Some things I just don’t tell you about, Sam.”

“Dean, I asked you to stop raising me awhile ago. You’re not my father anymore.”

“I still gotta protect you from stuff,” said Dean with a shrug.

“I get that. But my mind has gone to the worst case scenario on this more than once. Just promise it wasn’t that,” said Sam.

“Sammy, I called to talk about a girl.”

“You want things to work out with her? Then figure out whatever the hell happened in the past so it doesn’t happen again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Dean. 

“Whatever. Just crack a joke next time you see her,” said Sam. He hung up and Dean looked at his phone, sighing before he jammed his face in the bed. He gripped the sheets tight and felt his heart rate pick up, bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Stop. It,” he said to himself, forcing himself to sit up. He wiped off his eye and dropped his head to his chest. “It’s just a fucking girl. It’s just a girl, it’s just a date. It’s all it is.”

He saw his phone light up and Sam’s name appear. He swiped and put it on speaker before he faced away from it.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam. 

“It’s okay,” said Dean, freezing when he sniffled. He stared at the phone and Sam cleared his throat.

“You alright?” Dean stared at the phone and shook his head. “De, you there?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes…” said Sam. “It’s just me.”

“You repeat a word of this to anybody or you laugh or you tease me or-”

“Hey. I’d rather we not have this conversation over the phone. I can be there in an hour.”

“...Fine but you better bring some pie with you.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Dean.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[youarejesting]

Hope in the sheets.7

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 4.4k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: mentions a sex tape, mentions a birth tape

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

 “Ah! Ah! Ah!” This videotape felt dirty, Hoseok wasn’t sure why, but he was sweaty, his heart raced, as he tried to look anywhere but at the screen. The woman on the video kept making noises and heaven forbid he look between her legs. Was it warm in here or was it just him?

“As you can see the birth canal opens up wide to let the babies head come down and out and the shoulder here is the widest part, so you have to be careful to listen to your body otherwise you may tear, so here we go these are the final pushes and then the baby will slip out—”

“Hoseok, Hoseok wake up!” You called alarmed, Hoseok opened his eyes to see you and the birth class instructor standing over him.

“Don’t worry love, there is always one in every class who faints” The woman handed over some ice, “Put this behind his neck it will help slow his heart rate, nerves sometimes get the better of the soon to be dads”

Sitting up Hoseok sat up a little embarrassed, “sorry, I didn’t mean to faint”

“No, Hobi, it’s okay I feel nauseous as hell after that video too.  That looks scary as hell I don’t think I can do it” you whined. “This class traumatized me more than it helped, and what do we get a couple of cookies and some watered down juice. 

“You are so strong and I think you can do it?” Hoseok tried to reassure you and you scoffed. 

“If you're so confident you push the baby out.” Hoseok paled again swaying on the spot and you laid him back down. “You are properly scared aren’t you?”

“I am horrified,” he laughed, “I am a big chicken”

“Honestly, I am scared too but I don’t get a choice Hobi, this baby is inside me and it has to get out somehow." you shiver after confessing the fear that had been building in the back of your mind. “If I wasn’t afraid of surgery I would install the old side door”

The gesture of a flat hand across your stomach made Hoseok smile sadly. He took your hands in his. 

“I’m sorry that you have been dreading this. I will try to be someone who can eliminate your fears, little darling momma” he kissed your head. The instructor called everyone back to the mats and began explaining how to wash a baby and how to hold a baby for the first time. 

It was a fun class but you were happy to get home and rest, biding Hoseok good night. He went quickly to his house where Jimin was sitting waiting for him with a hanging clothes bag. 

“What were you so busy doing that I had to pick up your dry cleaning?”

“Y/n’s birthing class” Hoseok's face turned grave as he adopted a serious tone. “Jimin, don’t ever go to a birthing class. I don’t think I can unsee what I saw.”

“Haha, I’m not that silly, I know where babies come from. I am glad I am a man who likes men, so I will never step foot in a birthing class unless you pay me a large fortune. I mean I could watch someone give birth for money."

Hoseok shivered, making Jimin laugh at his expense. “You look pale, so let's change the subject. I bought Yoongi's old van. He sold it for some new equipment. That means I can get rid of the junk van I was driving before.”

“Can I have your old van?” Hoseok jumped on the opportunity. 

“Uh sure, but I think it’s more money than it’s worth, you can have it for free because it needs new everything.” He shrugged “I was just going to make it scrapped metal”

“Yeah I can fix it up, I got some money lying around.” Hoseok yawned, “anyway thank you so much for getting my suit. I have my first day of work tomorrow, so I should go to bed early”

“Alright, but tomorrow night celebratory drinks for your first day?” Jimin clutched his shoulder. 

“Of course,” Hoseok laughed, waving goodbye and carrying the suit to his apartment. 

“Hey man, how was your day?” Jimin shouted from his newly acquired van from Yoongi. “Get in, we can celebrate tonight” 

Jimin drove Hoseok home under strict orders to grab a nice change of clothes so the two could get ready at his house and go out celebrating Hoseok’s new job. Hoseok took the stairs two at a time leading to his apartment, his hand brushing past your old door. He missed you. He missed having you at his work, at his home, at his leisure. You two were inseparable and yet torn apart by the stages of life.

Hoseok had assumed you both would be single and somewhere in your mid-thirties you would just get married to one another for convenience. He grabbed some clothes and found the blacklight outfit you had bought for him, he pushed it aside trying to move on for just a moment. 

Instead, he grabbed a classic black button-up and a pair of black dress pants. He placed the items in a bag and headed back down to Jimin waiting excitedly in the driver's seat. He drove them across town singing along to the radio and pulled into the driveway of a beautiful home. Jimin was a sugar baby and so he accumulated a lot of money with ease.

Jimin picked up the package by his doorstep curiously and read the name, his face broke out into a smile. Opening the box he found a beautiful pair of earrings. Hoseok paused, knowing Jimin had been talking about these types of earrings for a long time, but these ones looked handmade and a little cheap, not from a brand-name store like most of Jimin’s other clients would buy.

“They are so cute,” Jimin smiled, lifting the note, reading it aloud. “I don’t have money, so I don’t ask for much, it would just be a waste of your time. Even with this, I still want you to know that I think you are really sweet the way you always help others and never forget to share compliments to those who catch your eye. I will never forget how kind and funny, you are especially at work. The way you run your fingers through your hair unconsciously, how you pout when you think, the way you can glide across the dance floor with drinks without spilling anything. You disappear behind the bar with the cutest laugh and I am completely in love with you.”

“You have an admirer,” Hoseok looked over his shoulder at the letter before asking, “I wonder who it is?”

“I am not sure who it could be?” Jimin frowned, taking the box into a spare room filled with gifts. “They seem really nice”

Once the letter was placed carefully in the room, Jimin stepped out and decided to get dressed for the night. He paused in the doorway walking back and taking the earrings. “Even though they are cheap I think I should at least wear them.”

The two got changed and Jimin posed, “take a picture of me looking over my shoulder, so I can post a picture of the earrings on my Insta”

Hoseok picked up his phone and stepped behind Jimin, ready to take the picture of Jimin’s bare shoulder, earring, and side profile. He stopped when his phone came up with the stupid storage message.

Storage full!

You can free up space on this phone by managing your storage in settings.

“I can’t take a picture,” Hoseok sighed. “My phone storage is full”

“It’s okay, I should put on a bit of makeup to make the picture really pretty. While I do that, use my computer to plug it in and delete stuff. You can save the rest onto a USB, which you will find in the top draw. The USBs should be empty.

Hoseok watched Jimin stroll into the bathroom and thought he might as well take care of this storage issue on the phone. Plugging the device in, Hoseok began going through and deleting memes and stupid screenshots he no longer needed. He went through saving many photos of you, and videos the two of you shared together.

That's when he came across the picture of the two of you dressed in your black light outfits. Both of you looking happy together in the mirror. Hoseok saved the photo to the USB. The next was a blurry picture on the dance floor, he didn’t need that.

Deleting a range of blurred photos, Hoseok kept swiping through them until he came across a video of you and Hoseok walking home. He heard you giggling and unconsciously smiled. He honestly was so in love with you.

There were a few more blurred videos and then there was a video of you two laying in Hoseok’s bed. His heart started to race as he watched you lean down and kiss him in the video. Hoseok couldn’t remember any of this.

The next video was of you removing your dress but it continued, sometimes the phone was just left on the bed face down, at other points, it was lifted and Hoseok heard himself talking as he pointed the camera at you underneath him. “I love you.” He had filmed you while you two were having sex, “I love being inside of you too.”

Hoseok felt a little guilty, while you two were drunk he took a video of you both, not only that but he felt as if he took advantage of you. The next video was taken from behind and Hoseok felt ashamed of himself for the stirring in his pants. 

“Are you watching porn?” Jimin laughed from the next room, confused as Hoseok switched to the next video. The two of you were cuddling on your side, Hoseok being the big spoon. 

Hoseok's face fell. What had he just watched? His head was reeling with so many thoughts that he couldn’t process them fast enough. He understood that it was you in the video, and you were with him. It was that night. Were you his dream girl? “I slept with Y/n?” He blurted and like being hit with a truck he came to a shocking revelation. Hoseok shot to his feet and spoke out loud hoping it would help him make sense of the situation, “Am I, I think, I might be the father?”

“Oh, Finally!” Jimin shouted, his voice carrying into the office. “I have been waiting for you to figure it all out”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok said his stomach was feeling sick, he didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or cry. The betrayal setting in, “How did you know? DID SHE KNOW?”

Jimin stepped into the room, his lips pressed together in a thin line, with a look of pity on his face confirming Hoseok's suspicion. Hoseok got up, his eyes flashing around the room in a panic. He pushed past Jimin and grabbed the old set of keys from the countertop. Hoseok escaped and drove fast. He didn’t have a destination in mind but after a few minutes of driving he ended up at a park by Han River.

Shutting off the engine, Hoseok let his hands fall from the wheel, his head resting back against the seat, letting out a loud guttural shout. He let the tears fall freely as his sobs racked his body, every breath catching in his throat as if he was choking. 

Hoseok wanted to scream, he wanted answers. They all knew. You knew. He thought he was your best friend, someone he trusted with all his secrets, and yet you kept something this big from him. The sick feeling in his stomach grew as did his anger and frustration with the situation.

How long were you going to keep this from him? When the baby was born? When the child was eighteen? Never? He had a right to know but all he wanted to know was why. 

He left the vehicle, his phone ringing with your number but he turned it off. He walked to the nearest bar somewhere dark and quiet and he drank until he couldn’t see his hands. 

“Hey mate you have to go, come on get up.” The bartender said, nudging him with an exaggerated sigh, “Mate can I call someone to come get you?”

“No one, my best friend is a liar, she is pregnant and didn’t even tell me it is my child,” Hoseok mumbled into the table. The bartender sighed again reaching into his pocket, “Who do you want me to call mate?”

“No need to call, I will go,” he said, pulling out his keys only to have them snatched from his hand. Hoseok turned to see Yoongi grabbing Hoseok’s things and thanking the bartender. “What do you want?”

“I got a distressed call from Y/n she is hysterical, I have checked in every bar and searched the nearby streets for Jimin’s old van. Yoongi threw the keys to Jimin who was waiting by the abandoned van and Yoongi scooped Hoseok inside.

Hoseok woke as Yoongi turned the key in the ignition they were headed for his home, but Hoseok had other plans. “You knew didn’t you?” Hoseok growled, “Take me to her."

“Not in this state?” Yoongi said definitely. “You are going to sober up, and then tomorrow you can speak with her.”

“You take me there right now, or I will get out of this car and go there myself!” Hoseok demanded, attempting to remove his seatbelt.

“Alright, alright sit down, I will take you to see her, but if you raise your voice at her I will knock you out and drag you back to your apartment." Yoongi turned to Hoseok with a menacing glare. "Do you understand?”

He nodded needing answers and he wasn't going to stop until you gave them to him. They pulled up outside your home and as he walked to the door he felt as if his legs were weak, ready to give way. He knocked with shaking hands.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to pull open the door eyes pink and swollen from your own tears.

"Hobi, I-" 

"Please don’t talk, you had your chance. This whole time, and you didn’t… You didn’t tell me, little darling.” His voice cracked as he held up a hand to stop you, “it’s my turn to talk, you can listen to me.”

He watched you wipe the tears away, he wanted to comfort you, you were his closest friend. He loved you so much and couldn’t bear to see you upset. “You knew we had sex, you knew what we did and you hid that from me, you fell pregnant and you hid that from me?”

“I told you when I lost my virginity, I told you when I scratched my dad’s car, I told you when I took money from my fathers wallet, or when I stole your homework. I told you when I was moving from home, I told you everything good and bad.” Hoseok pulled out the phone and played the video, the sounds of you two together filling the air. “But you couldn’t tell me, your best friend, that we did this? That I might be the father of this baby?”

“Hobi, I wanted to tell you I was-” Your tears were relentless and it looked like the weight of the world was crushing you with guilt. You looked lost, he knew there must be so much you wanted to say and explain but the words escaped you. All you could think to do was apologize, like some sort of animatronic doll with one function.

“Wanted to tell me isn’t telling me,” he frowned. “Say it, is this baby mine?”

“Yes, you are the father?” You whimpered, holding your stomach. Hoseok didn’t feel better. He didn’t feel better confronting you or getting the truth. He didn’t feel better watching you cry. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You are all I have Hobi, and I love you.”

“I thought I loved you too. I thought I really truly loved you, that even though I wasn’t the father, I would step in if I could. It turns out the woman I fell in love with is nothing but a liar.” Hoseok turned away unable to see your face contort in pain from the words he was saying, “I am disappointed in you. You said you wanted to grow up, but this is so immature”

Demanding to leave, Yoongi took Hoseok and headed to the van once more, hoping that the two of you could rebuild your relationship. It was painfully obvious that you both were painfully in love, so much so, that it was breaking your hearts more to fight with one another, than over whatever the fight was about.

You had spent the rest of the night crying until pure exhaustion took over your body and you fell asleep. No matter how many times you texted or called you got no response. You had left almost fifteen voicemails before you became too hysterical to speak. You were emotional and trying your hardest not to break down long enough for you to think things through. 

It took four days and sitting in the bottom of the shower for ten minutes before you came to a decision. Even before Hoseok knew he was the father, you had planned to do it on your own. You weren't weak and you knew for certain that you would be okay. You had planned to raise this child as a single mother, you had hoped to tell Hoseok before all this happened, but you had planned for it just in case something like this did happen.

You could do this without Hoseok, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, that you weren't mourning the relationship you had lost. You picked yourself up and put on a brave face crying only when you were alone as you single-handedly funded Ben and Jerry's company with the amount of ice cream you consumed.

You arrived at the next prenatal appointment. You watched all the couples cooing at their bellies and the little sonogram photos, as you sat alone quietly rubbing your belly and thinking how much you loved this child.

It strengthened your bond between you and your baby. You were working hard at your job, not ready to go on maternity leave as you didn’t know how financially stable you would be. You also worried because, without the distractions of work, you realized how alone you truly were and how much you missed Hoseok.

You wanted nothing more than to go back in time and take it all back. You wanted to get the courage and tell him. You would give anything to wake up beside him the morning after and just let yourselves deal with the aftermath.

Your mother's words echoed in your head, only able to be drowned out by the sound of your baby's heartbeat through the doppler, as the ultrasound technician measured your sweet little baby girl.

She had done no wrong and deserved only good things. It was on your way home from the scan that you decided to enter the baby boutique. You knew you were filling a Hoseok shaped void in your chest but you didn’t care, purchasing clothes, socks and shoes, and a tiny beanie all in mint green, white, or grey. At the checkout, you saw a small personal travel doppler for eighty dollars. It wasn’t as strong or as reliable as the one at the clinic but you bought it anyway. 

It was the first thing you did when you got home, you put the gel on your stomach and pressed the doppler to your tummy, and listened to the tiny heartbeat and the swishing of the umbilical cord. The tears didn’t stop and that heartbeat in your belly was the mantra to which you swore to live your new life.

You were no longer living for yourself, you were living for your daughter, whom you loved so dearly. You stopped looking for Hoseok through the seventh and moved into the eighth month of your pregnancy feeling semi-okay.

Called by the marketing director to meet with the client, you followed him with documents, “Why did you pick me?” you asked

“You are the only one fit for this job,” He said, which made you feel odd, surely the pregnant lady wasn’t the first choice. However, you obeyed his orders, grabbed your coat, and followed to the restaurant where you were met with an unbelievable sight. 

There was Hoseok standing by a beautiful woman dressed in a suit. Not only was it a punch to the chest, but it also left you self-conscious, resembling a chocolate egg. The way your body was so rotund did not do wonders for one's self-esteem.

Hoseok didn’t notice you until you stepped up to the table, your director announcing your arrival and greeting the young woman with a kiss on each cheek. “This is my hardest working assistant Miss Y/n,” The director said and you wondered again why he had chosen you to accompany him to the meeting.

“Well let’s get to business” the client smiled. You sat at the table and they brought out menus. “I will have the salmon en papillote, with a nice chardonnay.” 

“I will have the same,” the marketing director said, attempting to look cool but you weren’t so sure.

“We will have the Steak au Poivre, I will take medium rare and she will have hers well done. What is in the side salad?” Hoseok asked and you looked up over the menu shocked by his audacity.

“We use a mesclun mix for its various colors and textures, with Lebanese cucumbers and avocado for a fresh and creamy taste and a drizzle of classic french vinaigrette” the waiter smiled politely. 

“Skip the salads and instead vegetables would be preferable for both.” Hoseok closed the menu and looked up, the waiter looked at you for confirmation and you nodded handing over the menu.

“Have you two met before?” The client asked curiously and Hoseok shook his head, “It’s just you ordered for her?”

“She is pregnant so the best meat option is beef well cooked, and the salad would most likely make her sick due to the acidity in the vinaigrette.” Hoseok continued,  “the vegetables, though plain, will be easier to handle and will benefit her better than a salad. It is something I learned in a birthing class once”

“Yeah, and you haven’t been back since.” You scoffed, drinking your water trying to calm yourself so you didn’t explode with anger.

“I didn’t think I had to, seeing as I am not the father of any children.” He said dryly back and you stood up throwing the napkin at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t care if he didn’t like you and refused to acknowledge your presence ever again, but saying that about your child was not okay.

“You take that back, Hoseok." You almost shouted but restrained yourself due to the setting, Hoseok didn’t appear to move and you tilted your head back and took a shaky breath. “I am sorry, it seems I am feeling ill, allow me to leave first”

You stepped out the door and headed down the road trying to find a cab when a hand grabbed your arm. Disappointed when it turned out to be the marketing director. “I rescheduled our meeting, I am sorry, you had to deal with something like this, it must be stressful being so pregnant”

He touched your belly and you were a little uncomfortable. This man was a little too interested in your pregnancy. At first, you thought he was just a nice boss who was looking out for you, but it was clear he had some strange thoughts running through his mind.

When he said he would drive you home, you told him you had an appointment. Even then he was determined to take you to the appointment, but you waved down a cab and jumped in quickly. You arrived at Jin and Tonic for a much-needed appointment.

“I want a drink” you sighed and Seokjin gave you water and you looked up seriously. I want an actual drink Jin, I am going through the worst year of my life.”

“Worse than the time you tried to become a volunteer at a homeless center, where some weird lady cut chunks out of your hair, so you had to shave it off?"

"Then you got into a fight with Hoseok because he drew an arrow on your head while you were sleeping and everyone called you Aang,” Jimin added as he shed his small jacket, showing off a pretty choker chain necklace with a rose pendant. “Cause you said that was the worst year of your life.”

“This is worse,” you said. “At least I was the one angry at Hobi and I forgave him quickly, now he is angry at me and even denied being the father of our baby. That’s not even the worst of it. My boss has some sort of pregnancy fetish and keeps trying to touch my belly and I am not here for it”

“Pregnancy fetish?”

“It’s not sexy, I am swollen from the neck down, I couldn’t see my feet this morning. I just hope I wore the same shoes. My bladder is so squished I am peeing all the time, I am hormonal and sweaty, and I can’t fit into my favorite pajamas.” The hysterical sobbing was muffled by the bar and it made Jimin giggle behind his hand. He walked around to give you a hug and Jin presented you with an ice cream sundae in an effort to cheer you up.

“Dance with me, pretty lady,” Yoongi said, finishing his drink and taking your hand. He led you to the dance floor where you were slow dancing like you used to. “You are still as pretty as always. Okay, you may not feel beautiful right now due to all those things, but I promise that you are.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You tried to get close enough to hug Yoongi but your belly prevented you from doing so, he stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around you slipping his hands under your belly and swaying. He was trying to take some of the weight to relieve some pressure on your back. “You are amazing,”

“I am, aren't I.” He laughed, swaying you softly.

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[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Friday Night Stabby best quotes part 7 (30/12/20)

this one is quite long, cuz this is the 5 hour stream PLUS there was just so many incredible quotes from this one so apologies for the length lol

...

*speed has been cranked up in the lobby to the highest setting* Skizz: So… did we enable cocaine, or…?

...

*fifteen seconds before meeting ends* Etho: So I saw Joker vent, by the way. I just wanted him to sweat a little bit. Joker: WHAT?!

...

*Brody has been caught venting by Etho* Mrs Tango: Etho is safe. I saw him dump trash because apparently, visuals are on. Etho: Ohh Mrs Tango saving the day, thank you :D Brody: Yeah, every time you watch Etho play, it’s trash >:( Mrs Tango: You shut your filthy mouth!

...

Brody, at the end of the round: Etho, I was partially joking. You’re not trash. Etho: Oh. Thank you.

...

Tango: Brown body in O2. Evil: Eh, it’s just Bdubs. Tango: Move along. Next round. Nothing to see here. Skizz: Everybody skip right away! Brody: That’s sad. Etho: Poor, poor potato. Brody: Yeah, he’s just a little potato man.

...

*Tango has reported a body*

Mrs Tango: Wait, wait, wait. You saw a body?! Tango: *deep sigh* Endless: Oh daaaaang! Etho: This is very suspicious. That’s a good point, Mrs Tango. Mrs Tango: That’s suspect right there. Tango: How often do I self-report? Mrs Tango: How often do you see a body?

...

Skizz: Sorry, Mrs Tango! Mrs Tango: No you’re not. Don’t lie to me. Impulse: Thanks for playing the third imposter, buddy :) Skizz: Shut up. Tango: TOTAL third imposter there. Skizz: Hey, I SAID it was a guess!

...

*Skizz’s body is reported* Tango: I think it’s Skizz. I think it’s Skizz. Brody: You think it’s Skizz? Tango: Yes. Let’s all vote Skizz. Etho: Interesting detective work…

...

Etho: Joker, what’ve you been up to? You’ve been kinda quiet. Joker: Oh, my wife just gave me food. I have jambalaya. *everyone skips except Evil, who votes for Joker* Brody: EvilNotion thinks you should be voted off for jambalaya, evidently. Endless: Wait, who voted for who? Evil: I voted for Joker just cuz he’s got jambalaya and I’m jealous.

...

Bdubs: To be fair, he’s eating jambalaya, which is a hot food, and he’s trying to play imposter at the same time. Brody: Wait, IS he eating jambalaya or was that a ruse? Joker: No, I’ve got- Bdubs: Was the jambalaya a ruse?!

...

Bdubs: I heard Etho say, like, five words and he was smiling when he said them. Sounds guilty to me. Etho, audibly smiling: Oh you got me with the- Bdubs: See! He’s guilty! He’s smiling again!

...

*a body is reported* Etho: Brody killed him, Brody killed him! No, I mean, he’s safe. Brody’s safe. Brody: You’re killing me right now, Etho.

...

Tango: That was the most unsatisfying win ever, by the way. Brody: It just made me sad.

...

Endless: For the record, only one person can medbay scan at a time, so Joker got away with that fake. Joker: I totally did. Etho: I thought he was just doing Joker things. Joker: Yeah, I was just doing Joker things!

...

Skizz: I accidentally collapsed my tasks and I didn’t know that was a thing! I do NOW, but- Bdubs: I’m gonna call my uncle and see if he can fill a spot in this group. Skizz: Hey, I didn’t have to tell you guys ANYTHING! Brody: Being dead, you were still somehow third imposter. I don’t understand how it’s possible. Tango: That’s a talent, right there.

...

Etho: *calls emergency meeting* Joker, immediately: YEAH, I wanna talk to YOU, Etho! Skizz and Bdubs at the same time: UH OH! Tango: These are the best kinds of meetings! Etho: What is it, Joker? Joker: I wanna know why you’re going to that gas can so many times without emptying it! Etho: I’m trying to avoid you, cuz you’re freaking me out, man. Bdubs: I just saw him there at the gas can. Joker: Yeah, I saw you- He- He walked away- Etho: How about instead of watching me, you go do your tasks, Joker? Bdubs: Wow, he’s pulling a dad move. Brody: You ARE freaking out, man. Joker: A dad move again. I’m in trouble. Alright, fine. I was just trying to make friends, man.

...

Etho: I stumbled across a body and as I entered the room, Skizzle ran out instead of doing lights or reporting the body. Skizz: Always throwing me under the bus! Brody: Is that throwing you under the bus or is it- Tango: -is it you crawling out of the bus saying “vote me”? *pause* Skizz, miserably: Just do it.

...

Mrs Tango: I have both tasks in medbay. Brody: Really? Both? Is that even a thing? Mrs Tango: It is. If you’d like, you can come watch me scan my sexy body. Brody: I-I don’t wanna watch that, I’m okay.

...

Tango: It’s clearly Joker again, can we just vote him off? Joker: W-Wait, what? I-I’m just sitting here! I didn’t even do anything! Skizz: Jeez, he’s just messing with ya, homie. Joker: Oh, okay. Good. I wasn’t really listening anyway.

...

Etho: Joker, sorry for voting you out. Joker: Uh huh. Bdubs: Classic Canadian.

...

Etho: *calls emergency meeting* Etho: Oh, they killed Tango! Nooo! Etho: Uh, I saw Brody vent.

...

Impulse: Okay, I’ll buy it for a dollar. *votes for Brody* Endless: Yeah, what’s the worst that can happen? Brody: What’s the worst-? Thanks, Endless. I appreciate that, buddy.

...

Endless: Were you paying attention this time, Joker, or…? Joker: Well, my wife gave me some truffles with, like, strawberries in the centre and chocolate so it’s super tasty. So I was half-paying attention. *long pause* Endless: I’m voting Joker just so he has time to finish his truffles. Joker: No no no no no no, listen, I’d just finished the weapons thing and I WAS with Impulse but I watched him go somewhere else and then I went down to communications to finish my thing. And if I was the killer, I wouldn’t say that cuz that sounds horrible, now that I say it out loud… *Joker is voted out* Joker: Someday, you guys’ll see that it’s really just not me.

...

Endless: For the record, I also want some jambalaya and some chocolate truffles. Brody: Endless, you get NOTHING.

...

Tango: So Etho, did you really just cut task mid-task and run away? Etho: Oh yeah, if I think the killer’s just walked in with me, I’m outta there. There’s no way I’m hanging around. Joker: Then everybody should know that if Etho is hanging around with me, we’re both the killers. Endless: Noted.

...

Impulse: I literally saw Brody vent. Brody: You did. You did see me vent. I killed Etho. I’m gonna say it out loud. I killed him because every time I’m near him, he sees me in a vent. Every time. He deserved to die every single time. I’m calling it right now. You should vote for me. Etho- Bdubs: This is dark…

...

Evil: I found Bdubs’s dead body at lights. Mrs Tango: I think it’s Joker. Joker: Of COURSE you do.

...

*Mrs Tango is ejected* Mrs Tango: Y’all are WRONG and I’m not doing my tasks. Etho, dead: Hell hath no fury like a Mrs Tango scorned.

...

Endless: Best of luck to you later tonight, Tango. Tango: I am locking my doors, just so you guys know.

...

Tango: That was an unproductive round for me. I was in admin, now I’m in reactor and my task got interrupted. Brody: I don’t think it’s unproductive; Skizz is dead.

...

Bdubs: I saw Brody go right early on with the whole reactor meltdown, he went the opposite direction. Then the second emergency meeting, he deflected and didn’t really truly answer, and then he voted against Mrs Tango with me and Etho without really saying much. And I- I’m kinda- I’m really feeling… *sounding like he’s crying* I think he did it! I think he’s a killer! Brody: You’re using the fake tears right now? That’s where you wanna be? Bdubs: Yes that’s where I wanna be.

...

Tango: No, okay, wait a sec! Listen. Just imagine for a second that I’m innocent right now. *long pause* Impulse: You… You just wanted us to imagine? Etho: Okay, so you’re innocent and…? Tango: No, I’m guilty.

...

*after the Tangos lose an imposter round together* Mrs Tango: I have the best husband ever. Tango: So close! Mrs Tango: Just so you know, I have the best husband ever. Tango: We were on a murdering rampage! Mrs Tango: My husband is better than all of your husbands,. Joker: I don’t… have a husband? Endless: Yeah me neither. Tango: Her husband is better than your husband, Endless. Mrs Tango: My husband is better than all of your husbands. Endless: Your husband called you a liar earlier.

...

Endless: *calls emergency meeting* Endless: I don’t have any information, I just saw Tango was dead on vitals. Etho: But now we don’t know where he died. Endless: It literally just happened, so has anybody seen him recently? *long pause* Skizz: ...so essentially this meeting is “the vitals machine works”?

...

Joker: Am I really always suspect? Impulse: Yes. Tango: Yes. Brody: Yes. Joker: All the time? Endless: Yes. Brody: Yes. Evil: Yes. Brody: If you’re voted off, it’s either good or good. It’s just like- It’s fine.

...

*everyone skips except Endless who votes for Skizz* Endless: Payback >:) Skizz: ENDLESS-!

...

Impulse: Joker, don’t kill me right away. Joker: *kills Impulse* (wouldn’t be one of these streams without Impulse inadvertently predicting his own death a second before it happens)

...

*Brody calls an emergency meeting after Joker has been chasing Tango around the map* Tango: OH THANK GOD, OH GOD! PLEASE VOTE JOKER OFF! Joker: Look! MAN! I’m-! Tango: He’s been chasing me for twenty minutes! Bdubs: Hold on, hold on. Brody- Brody, what? Brody: Uh, I just called this cuz I wanted to see where everybody’s at with tasks cuz I’m done, and, uh… Tango: Guys, I nailed Joker already, now just vote him off! Joker: Look, dude, I’m just trying- Tango: He just chased me for twenty minutes! Endless, Endless-! Bdubs: Is this Tango’s guilty voice? Skizz: I wanna hear Tango only. Tango: Everyone, SHUT UP. Endless. Endless. Endless? Endless. Are you there? Endless: Yeah, I- Tango: Did you not see me sticking to you like glue for that entire round cuz Joker was chasing me for the last thirty seconds? Endless: I saw Joker come into communications, go to leave, then come back in and hang around you, so… Skizz: Tango, are we voting for Joker? Tango: Yes! If it’s not Joker, he’s a jerk and needs to be voted off anyways. Joker: I’m always a jerk!

...

Joker: Sorry, Bdubs, I blew that last round. Bdubs: Oh don’t worry, I blew it too. Brody: Yeah, you both equally blew it. Joker: I wasn’t talking to you, Brody.

...

Brody: Endless? Etho? Etho: I was on my way over to lights. Endless: I’m just waiting to die.

...

Impulse: I said my BONES are good, not my eyeballs.

...

Skizz: You are a NINJA, Endless. I totally forgot you were playing for a second there.

...

Skizz: Impulse, your body had fully decomposed and had been consumed and turned into fossil fuel. Impulse: I love how your ghost was hovering over my body for half the match, just waiting for somebody to find me. That was cute. Tango: Just like “aww my buddy is dead :’(“ yeah. Skizz: It was killing me! D:

...

Tango: Skizz, how did you get into the lab? Skizz: ...I don’t understand the question. How’d I get into lab? Through the door…? What is happening? Joker: I see where you’re going with this, Tango, and I support this. Skizz: I don’t-! *votes are revealed, everyone has voted for Skizz* *pause* Skizz: ONE time. I wanna be imposter ONE time where my partner is not voted off in the first six seconds!

...

Impulse: I’m about to be killed, anywa- Etho: *kills Impulse*

...

Bdubs: Mrs Tango! What are you doin’? You just walked out of communications and Impulse is dead in there! *pause* Mrs Tango, audibly grinning: I don’t think so! He was alive when I was in there. Bdubs: Busted! Tango: Hang on, guys! I will decipher this with my extensive wife knowledge! I think she’s guilty! Mrs Tango: He was alive while I was in there! Bdubs: He was? He just dropped dead of starvation, maybe? Mrs Tango: Maybe an icicle got him, I don’t know. Tango: Right, right! Stalactite fell from the heavens and impaled him. Bdubs: A flesh-eating disease, maybe. Tango: Maybe Endless starved to death. Did you think of that? Joker: A wire was loose and he got electrocuted.

...

Joker: Brody, you just love killing me. Brody: I mean, I do, but that’s not why I’m voting for you.

...

Joker: Tango, I’m getting people coming into my chat and telling me you’re saying I’m useless now. Tango: *cackles* Tango: I dunno what you’re talking about.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: That Old Thing Back {One Shot} ***

Charlie Hunnam x Ex-Wife Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, POV Changes, LOTS OF WORDS, NSFW, Mentions of miscarriage

Words: 8,888k 

Note: Okay, this is a first for Charlie. I am not familiar with his mannerisms at all, so I hope this hits well. If not, anon, I am sorry. As always, thank you all for reading! Also, y’all see 8888 words. 8888 must mean something right.

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you meet someone, within minutes, you know what you want from them. After the first conversation, you know what capacity you want them in your life. After a week, you know just how you feel about them. Charlie could attest to this. When he first saw you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He was mesmerized by you and just sat and marveled as you danced around the great lawn of the park he happened to be in that afternoon. You looked carefree and so full of life. Nine other women were dancing with you, but he could only see you.

 That led him to stalk you for the remainder of the afternoon. Once the class was finished, he followed behind you and listened to your conversation as you walked through the streets and fell deeper under your spell. Your voice was like a finely tuned melody that sounded better than any song he’d ever heard. He sat in the same restaurant you did and just watched you as you spoke and laughed. Every story you told was so animated he felt like he’d been right there when it happened. You were the most captivating creature he’d ever seen.

 By the time he knew what had happened, he’d pushed his entire day to the side and had followed you, and he didn’t regret one thing. When he least expected it, you confronted him and called him out on his stalker antics, and that only made him want to know you more. It was the perfect imperfect meet. From that day, the two of you had been inseparable. You spent all your free time together. When he told you his aspiration to be an actor, you didn’t laugh or tell him to forget it and be more practical. You were his biggest supporter, and he fell harder for you.

A whirlwind, passion-filled eight-month romance led to him proposing and begging you to spend your life with him. When you excitedly screamed yes and leaped on him in the middle of the restaurant, everyone around you elated and showered you with applause and well wishes. The two of you didn’t bother waiting. A month later, you were married and more in love than ever. Neither of you were prepared when CJ came around, but it made your love deeper, your marriage stronger.

 You were by his side as he struggled through audition after audition, waiting for his big break. You were there rejection after rejection, always having his back and pushing him never to give up. You were his backbone, and when that role came, you were right there for him. The rolls came in one after the other, which meant he was gradually becoming busier and busier. Before you knew it, he was always on a movie set, and you were always home with CJ.

 No one prepared him for the struggles of marriage, a baby, and his budding career. He was warned about it by his agent early on, but he swore the two of you had what it took to withstand any and all struggles. He hadn’t factored himself in as a struggle. Thanks to his rapid rise to fame, everyone wanted a piece of him, and when they took their piece, there was none left for you. The arguments increased, and the miscommunication and unsaid words took a toll. The space that formed between you was wide enough to classify them as chasms.

 It seemed like he couldn’t do anything right. Everything he said was wrong. When he took a weekend off of work, it was wrong because you found it clear he would rather be working. When he tried to get close to you for any affection, you were always tired from your day with CJ, and every time you tried, he was too busy. He got lost in the Hollywood lifestyle, the parties, the socializing, the life that was bullshit, and had nothing on you or CJ. He turned into the monster in the fairytale, the monster that mothers warned their daughters about.

 He’d lost track of how many times he’d heard you crying, lost track of how many times he’d struggled with what to do, how to be. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt you, he just didn’t know how to be who you wanted, how you needed him to be. The last straw was him missing your birthday to remain at the Cannes Film Festival, the festival he got pictured in a compromising position. One he was entirely at fault for, but one where absolutely nothing happened. The last thing you said to him was, “Your priorities are all fucked up, if you don’t want us fine I’ll solve the problem.”

 He came home to divorce papers and an empty house and not too long after you were in the hospital suffering from a miscarriage. A miscarriage the doctors blamed on stress, a miscarriage you blamed on him, a miscarriage he blamed himself for. After that, you made it clear you were done with him. He had the thought to contest and fight for you, but he knew the same problems would still be there. He had to face the facts that you’d probably grown too far apart, and that he would only cause you pain. He had to let you go. So, let you go he did.

 Groaning, he rubbed his face trying to keep the sleep at bay. The sound of the waves at his Malibu home was the soothing back noise he needed. It was the same noise that propelled him deep into his state of depression. It was a sate he’d been fighting for the last year. He’d been mostly successful, but tonight was hard. Tonight, was the anniversary of what would have been your seventh wedding anniversary.

 The whole night he’d been haunted by memories, haunted by feelings, and haunted by every regret he’d held on to for the last near two years. He thought of scenarios where he should have said something when he hadn’t said anything. He thought about the times he didn’t do something when he should have dome something—anything. He regretted everything that led to this point, the point where he had no wife and a son he was missing that was growing up without seeing him every day.

 “Fuck!” His shout was loud, and though the beach was vast, it still somehow echoed around him. There was no escaping you. He’d tried like hell every day, especially when you moved said the most hurtful words you’d ever said to him.

 -Fourteen Months Earlier-

 “Leave Charlie; you’re good at that.”

 “That’s not fair, Y/N, and you know it!”

 You spun around with pure vitriol radiating from you. “Fair! Do you know what’s not fair? It’s not fair that I’ve been by your side through everything, supporting you and loving you fiercer than a mother lion to her cubs, birthed your son, held you down through everything, the struggle, the good times only to have you do this!”

 “You’re the one who left me, Y/N!”

 He knew he shouldn’t have thrown that at you. He knew it was a bad idea.

 “Let’s be real. You left me long before I left you! Plus, what was there to stay for, a man who turned out to be my biggest mistake?”

  -Present Day-

 With his phone in hand, he pulled up your contact. It was one that he stared at so often—too often, he opened up his messages and did the only thing his head told him to.

 MSG My Wife: It’s insane today would have been our 7th anniversary. Seven years. The day I said those vows to you were the happiest day of my life until the day you told me about CJ. I thought seven would be just the beginning for us. I fully expected seventeen, twenty-seven, thirty-seven, seventy. I probably shouldn’t be sending this, but there was no way I could fight it. God, Y/N, this has always been my favorite day. Now it’s one of the most painful.

 He tossed his phone on the side table and dropped his head back, praying he could forget and move on. It was clear you’d already done it.

 As if that wasn’t enough, to add insult to injury, four days later he was staring down at the date your divorce was finalized. It was irony at its best and a just punishment for him. He’d been suffering the last year, so much, so pain felt like his best friend. He just wallowed in everything he’d lost, wallowed in it with no intention to pull himself out. It was that same pain that had him on this interstate driving out of LA to the place he shouldn’t be going anywhere near.

 When he pulled up inside the yard, he sat in his mustang for much longer than he should have. He looked around at somewhere he was familiar with but only loosely. He looked at the toys scattered on the lawn and smiled before it slipped and was replaced with sorrow. After taking a deep breath, he got out and walked to the door. He hesitated before his knuckles rapped on the door, then he waited.

  ~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

“CJ, please put this hoverboard away before I break my neck!”

 You wiped your hands on the dishtowel as you made your way to the front door. Your son was single-handedly working overtime to break every bone in his body. You’d heard that raising a boy would be difficult, but you were not prepared. He was a handful and a half, especially since he was the carbon copy of his father. Not only did he look just like him down to his blond hair, but he also had the same interests—skating, hoverboarding, biking, and soccer. Those were just the beginning of their similarities. With your head lost in thought, you didn’t see the fist-size fire truck that was lying in wait for you just in front of the door. You hopped and did your best football scrimmage to avoid the tragedy you foresaw.

 “Jesus Christ! Charles Matthew Hunnam, Junior!”

 You could hear the barrage of footsteps as he came running. He knew when you used his entire name; he was in trouble. As sure as the sky was blue, he came bounding around the corner with his blond curls bouncing and honey-chocolate sun kissed complexion on his way to you.

 “I’m sorry, mommy,” he sheepishly breeched as he bent to the floor to gather the death traps he’d left for you.

 “How many times have I told you to pick your toys up when you’re finished?”

 “I’m sorry, I forgot.” He looked so sad now and gave you those blue specked hazel eyes that were such an interesting mix of yours and Charlie’s that you were always a sucker for.

 Groaning, you shook your head affectionally. “Try to remember, honey,” you softly reminded. CJ nodded and threw his arms around your midsection. These were the things that made your day. The doorbell rang then, reminding you someone was there.  “Take them up, please.”

 “Okay, mommy.” You turned from him and continued your walk to the door. When you swung it open, you were shocked half to death to see Charlie standing on the other side.

 “Charlie,” you gasped out. Once CJ heard his name, you heard the clatter of the toys he must have just had heaped in his hands.

“Daddy!” You heard him running, and in seconds, he bound into Charlie’s waiting arms.

 “Ah! Hey, buddy!” Charlie stood and held onto CJ like he was his most favorite thing in the world; it was the same way CJ held onto him.

 You stood there and watched them half warmed by the sight of father and son and their evident love for each other and half seething that Charlie was there in the first place. He knew better than to show up unannounced. The only way this worked was if you had time to prepare yourself to see him. This was unexpected.

 “I missed you, daddy.”

 “I missed you too, CJ. Gosh, you look like you’re growing like a weed,” Charlie surmised, placing CJ back onto the ground.

 “I am, mommy says I’m half her height.”

 “Oh, is that right? So half her height means you’re still a ways behind me. I guess I better go back to eating my veggies,” Charlie joked. CJ found it funny, even if you didn’t.

 Clearing your throat, you brought the attention of your ex-husband to you. his smile faltered. “What’re you doing here, Charlie?”

 “I uh—I wanted to see CJ.”

 You dropped your head and sighed. This was going to turn into an argument.

 “I wanted to see you too, daddy. Can we do something? Can I show you my new bike? Then can we go down to the lake, and I can show you my new trick?”

 “Hold on there, bud. We gotta ask mommy,” Charlie said on a chuckle.

 “Can we mommy, please, please, please, please!” CJ was pouring on all the emotions and sweetness. You didn’t have the heart to say no.

 “Go ahead, have fun. Please, no broken bones!”

 “Thank you, mommy.” His hug was quick before he was grabbing hold of Charlie’s hand to yank him away. As he did, Charlie looked back to you with a melancholic smile, one you refused to read into.

 When you walked back inside, you were the one to pick up the toys you’d just told your son to pick up. You didn’t mind this time; you needed something to keep yourself busy. Picking up CJ’s toys turned into rearranging some of the things in the living room, and that turned into sweeping, then vacuuming and finally mopping. You could hear the jolly screams and laughs from inside the yard, and though it made you happy to hear how happy CJ was, it also filled you with a hint of sadness, one you’d worked hard to ignore.

 Every so often, you found yourself drifting to the windows to watch on as the two of them played. Every time you looked out, they were doing something different. Once it was tricks on BMX bikes, another time it was weird acrobatics like handstands and flips, and when you looked out once and saw them actually building mud monsters, you nearly lost your shit at how adorable they were together. That was when you stepped up the cleaning and began cleaning the kitchen.

 Once the cleaning was finished, you moved on to starting dinner. An hour passed then two, and you were in the thick of things. You’d only intended on cooking lasagna, but that turned into lasagna with sautéed broccoli, and garlic bread and dessert. It was apparent to you that you were anxiety cooking. Before you finished, though in they bounded downright filthy but over the moon.

 “Mommy, look!” CJ ran to you completely covered in a mixture of dried and wet mud with grass stains. He looked ready to throw his arms around you before you scurried behind the kitchen island.

 “Charles Matthew Hunnam, don’t you dare get me dirty.” His laughter was loud.

 “Fine, but look what we brought you.” He held out a bouquet of handpicked flowers of all varieties. A smile stretched across your face. You knew it was going to happen before it did.

 “You picked me flowers?”

 “Yup, it was daddy’s idea, then we had a competition who could pick the most. I won,” CJ happily boasted. The tears welling in your eyes could not be stopped from spilling.

 “Thank you, CJ, they are gorgeous. I love them almost as much as I love you.” CJ’s smile was just as wide, and your heart melted.

 “If you weren’t as filthy as a lost boy, I would hug you and kiss you, so if you want that hug and kiss, you better get showered.”

 “Okay, mommy.” CJ began to run away but stopped and came back to stand before Charlie. “Are you going to leave now?” His tone was low, and he looked like he was about to cry.

 “Uh—well, I hadn’t planned on staying this long.”

 “No! No, no, stay please, please, please. Mommy said she was going to make lasagna. It’s my favorite,” CJ rattled on.

 “Mine too,” Charlie admitted. You knew it.

 “Mommy, daddy loves your lasagna too; can he stay for dinner with us? Please, please, pleeeeeeease!”

 “CJ, I’m sure that your dad has things he has to do.”

 “No, he doesn’t, I asked outside he said he has nothing to do. Please, mommy, for meeeeee.” His whine was becoming incessant, sighing you accepted defeat.

 “Okay, only because I’d do anything for you.” CJ smiled widely again then hugged Charlie before he ran off, leaving the two of you standing there.

 “Uh—I can take shower duty, or have you transitioned him to alone ones?”

 “He’s all yours.” Charlie nodded and walked up the stairs where CJ just disappeared from.  

 Once alone, you looked at the flowers in your hands and ignored the flutter in your belly and the sight of one of your favorite wildflowers, dab smack in the middle of the bouquet, the one only Charlie knew about —poppies.

Nearly forty minutes later, dinner was underway, and it felt like old times, the times during your marriage before things went to shit. CJ talked about everything under the sun. He told Charlie all about his soccer schedule and who his friends were in school this month, he even told him all the gossip in his class. It was like he was making up for the last three weeks he hadn’t seen him. That made you sad, but you knew it was just how life was. Charlie was now a full-fledged movie star, and though his star rose years ago, it was still rising. Thanks to his insanely successful show, Sons of Anarchy, his name was a household one, and it came with thousands of thirsty groupies.

 Charlie laughed loudly as he threw his head back, clearly amused by one of CJ’s stories. He truly looked to be enjoying himself to the fullest. You’d long known that CJ was the best thing that had ever happened to Charlie. You’d spent long nights talking about just how much he loved that little boy and everything in you loved to hear him talk about how enamored he was with him. You knew that would never change, no matter what happened between the two of you.

 A little more than halfway through dinner Charlie’s eyes met yours, and it felt like forever ago that you’d looked into them. They looked different, sadder, more detached, and full of something that looked like pain. He looked different to you now than he had months ago. Maybe he was different, you thought.

 “Mommy, can I have dessert?”

 Snapping out of it, you smiled and nodded to your son. “Absolutely, a slice of pineapple upside-down cake coming right up.” You stood and walked into the kitchen to fix three plates of the dessert. When you came back, the two of them were doing thumb wars. Shaking your head, you put the plates down and tried not to think about how much different things could have been.

 The three of you ate your sweet treat and continued to emulate the perfect family. Once dessert was finished, Charlie was the one to initiate doing the dishes something you remembered he promised on your wedding day to do when he loved you the most to show you he cared and appreciated you. There was no way that was the reason now. While he did the dishes with CJ, you busied yourself with finding yet another thing to clean. It was a habit at this point.

 After the tidying was completed, you sat in front of the TV to watch an episode of CJ’s favorite cartoon, The Last Airbender. Through the entire episode, he and Charlie whispered and chatted about the episode then pretended to be from warning nations while they did their bending. It was then you faced how much you missed nights like this. It had been close to two years since the three of you spent time together like this. It was done on purpose. You didn’t think you could handle it. You had no idea how you were now.

 Before you knew it, the time had run away, and it was now almost ten. After telling CJ to get into bed, hit the bottle of your go-to liquor, hoping to find some form of strength to hold you up. Having Charlie there playing doting dad and husband as if he was no longer a part of your life hurt, it hurt a hell of a lot. You still had some animosity about the way things ended.

 When you made it upstairs, Charlie was sitting at the foot of CJ’s bed looking as if he were about to read him his bedtime story. “Oh, it’s cool. You guys go ahead,” you began.

 “Mommy, can you both read to me, like how you used to,” CJ pleaded. That was like a knife to the gut. You’d made CJ your top priority your whole like, and when you and Charlie began to have problems, his happiness was the only thing the two of you agreed on. You didn’t want him to feel as if he were missing anything, but right now, you saw he felt the void.

 “Of course, baby.” Walking around the bed to CJ’s pillow, you settled in your usual place and lifted your bare legs into the bed to cuddle beside your son. CJ dropped his head on your chest, where he knew he could listen to your heart. It was an action he’d always done ever since he was a little boy.

 You kissed the top of his head before you began. “Ready?” CJ nodded. Charlie held out the book to you, but you shook your head. “I’ve got it memorized. You keep it.”

 You took another breath, then began. “A mother bird sat on her egg. The egg jumped. Oh, oh! said the mother bird. “My baby will be here! He will want to eat. I must get something for my baby bird to eat! She said. I will be back! So away, she went.” CJ burrowed deeper into your side, making you smile. When you looked up, Charlie’s eyes were glued on the two of you. Nodding, you signaled for him to take over.

 Charlie cleared his throat and took a breath. “The egg jumped. It jumped and jumped and jumped! Out came the baby bird. Where is my mother, he said? He looked for her. He looked up; he did not see her. He looked down; he did not see her. I will go and look for her. So away, he went.” He read it without looking at the book. He just stared at CJ.

 With your turn, you read the next few pages, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off Charlie. He watched you as you watched him, and it was the most perfect thing. For the next ten or so minutes, you read the book to your son together. When he spoke, he never once looked down at the pages, never once broke the eye contact between you. The only time he glanced from your eyes was to look into his son’s. There were so many instances you had to stifle the flutter of your heart, and countless times, you found yourself looking over his hands and forearms. Even when he caught you, you didn’t seem to care. His voice coupled with how enamored he looked with CJ and vice versa and how rugged he looked, was wreaking havoc on you, especially when you remembered the miscarriage. Once you remembered that, a bitter taste filled your mouth, which brought you back to your reality.

 “All right, prince charming, that’s it,” you gently informed. CJ was still wide awake.

 “Aww. Does that mean you’re leaving now, daddy?” Charlie sighed, and it brought your attention to him. He looked equally as distraught as CJ did. The pit of your stomach knotted. This was never the fun part.

 “I’m afraid so, buddy.”

 “No. Stay, please. I don’t want you to go. I won’t see you for weeks. I miss you. Don’t you miss me? It’s like you don’t like being here with me or with us,” CJ rushed out. You could hear the pain in his voice, and it broke you in two. Looking at Charlie, you could see it was the same for him.

 “Of course, I miss you, buddy. I miss you more than I have the words to say. I always want to be with you, to be here, but you know that’s not our life anymore,” Charlie carefully explained.

 “Baby, it’s all right. Your dad loves you more than anything in this world,” you assured, hoping to smooth things over. It didn’t look like he believed one word you said.

 “Bud, I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.”

 “I don’t believe you!” With that, the silence in the room was heavy. Charlie looked at his wit’s end with how to console him, and you knew what to do, but you didn’t think you had the strength. You could feel CJ’s tears, and that was the last straw.

 “Look at me, CJ.” Slowly he rose his head to you. you wiped his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “He’ll be here when you wake up.” It was a whisper because that was all you could muster.

 “What?” Charlie’s shock was evident. You looked at him and sighed.

 “You should stay. He needs this—he needs you.”

 Charlie searched your eyes before he spoke again. “Are you sure?”

 No, you weren’t sure. This was probably a bad idea for you, but for CJ, it was the best solution. Nodding your response, you looked back to CJ.

 “He can stay, mommy?” His smile was right back where it should be.

 “He can stay love, but you have to go to sleep.”

 Yayy!” CJ threw his arms around you to show his gratitude and excitement. You kissed him once more then stood.

 “Bed.” CJ kissed your jaw, then dropped back onto his bed and snuggled in his covers.

 “I’m going to stay; it’s been a while since I’ve watched him sleep,” Charlie whispered. Nodding, you walked out the door, leaving it slightly ajar.

 Again, you busied yourself preparing the guestroom, hoping the movement would distract you from not only thinking but worrying about the ramifications of your decision. This would be the first time in almost two years you’d slept under the same roof. Divorced meant over and done with. Of course, divorced with a child didn’t give a shit about over and done. He’d forever be in your life.

 The message you’d received from him a few days ago reminded you of just that. It was the most unexpected thing, the most heartbreaking message you’d gotten from him in a long time. It was so heartbreaking you had to lock yourself in the bathroom with the faucet and shower running to hide the sounds of your bawling from CJ. You ended up hiding in there for close to an hour, and even when you reemerged, you were emotionally unstable for the remainder of the evening. You were so emotionally unstable; there was no way you trusted yourself to respond, so you left it on read. What the fuck were you supposed to say to it anyway?

 After changing the sheets and straightening up a few things, you retreated to your bedroom for some quiet time, quiet time you desperately needed. You didn’t know how to get through the next twenty-four hours. You were struggling. Staring in the mirror, you objectively looked at yourself. You saw the truth, you always had. You just couldn’t afford to let that truth slip to the surface.

 The knock at the door had you leaping to your feet. When you opened it, there was Charlie, and your stomach liked what it saw.

 “Fast asleep?” He nodded and looked down at the floor.

 “I don’t have to stay in the house. I can sleep in my car,” Charlie suggested.

 “I’d do anything for you—for CJ.” The way he said it had your heart racing.

 “It’s fine. I have space. Come on.” You walked out of your bedroom and down the hall leading him to the guestroom you’d just prepped. When he walked into the room, you watched as he looked around.

“I just changed the sheets; they’d been on for weeks. It should be all good.”

 He turned to you, nodding his head. “Thank you, love dove.”

 The name hit you like a mack truck. You audibly “oofed” as you wrapped your arms around your midsection, instantly feeling the effect and the loneliness it brought on. He used to always call you that name, a day would never go by without him whispering it in your ear, against your neck, or your lips. You were brought back to happier times where you’d be locked in your room in bed, just ravaging each other, and he’d whisper it the entire time.

 Charlie must have been going through the same thing you were because he looked regretful before he spoke. “Sorry. Old habits.”

 Again, your stares lingered, and the air in the room was heavy and hot. It was like the last year or so didn’t happen, like he hadn’t broken your heart. He still had an effect.

 “Good night.” It was quickly said, and your exit was just as quick. You spent the next forty or so minutes in the shower. You hoped it would help to calm you down, but it didn't do that, it just gave you more anxiety.

 When you got out, you began to wonder if you’d placed towels in the room. When you saw them in your closet, you realized you’d brought them here mistakenly. Once you wrapped in your robe, you made your way to his room to drop them off. You knocked once, then twice, but neither knocks were answered. Deciding you could chance sneaking in to put the towels down, you opened the door. The sound of the shower running gave you your answer as to why he didn’t answer. Quickly you walked to the bed and put the stack of grey towels on the bed. As you neared it, out came Charlie in all his wet glory. In your shock, the towels fell to the floor and had your eyes snapping shut.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I forgot to leave some towels. I knocked; you didn’t answer.”

 The room was silent; he didn’t speak. You wondered what he was doing. Was he trying to cover himself? Using your hands as your eyes, you felt for the towels you’d dropped. In seconds frustration filled you when you couldn’t find them. Opening your eyes for a second, you saw the towels, but when you looked only a centimeter up, there was his junk right in front of you. He hadn’t budged from his spot and hadn’t even made an attempt to cover himself.

 You meant to look away immediately, but that didn’t happen. He was maybe half a foot from you, close enough to touch. Charlie had always been the most attractive man that you’d seen. He’d always done it for you. With you on your knees before him, you realized that hadn’t changed. A son, a miscarriage, a messy ending to your marriage, and a divorce had done nothing to temper how much you always seemed to want him or be attracted to him.

 You were kneeling there in wide-eyed amazement. It had been years since you’d seen him like this. The deterioration of your marriage meant you spent lots of nights lonely and unloved. Before you gave him divorce papers, it had been seven whole months since you’d been intimate. When you added on the four months it took for the divorce to finalize and the year of being a divorcee, you hadn’t gotten laid in over two years. It was shameful because right now you knew why only he had an impact, only he would do.

 “It’s okay,” Charlie whispered. His voice was shaking, and he sounded hopelessly breathless. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before in great detail.”

 Again, you remembered all the things you’d done to him in great detail over the six years of your marriage. Jumping to your feet, you tried your hardest to look away from his inviting appendage. You held out the stack of towels to him with your head turned to the side and waited for him to take them. When his hands grasped the items, they brushed yours and sent thousands of electric sparks through your hand and directly into your heart.

 Your eyes met again, and they lingered on each other. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart, hoped he couldn’t tell what a fraud you were.

 “I should go,” you whispered.

 “You don’t have to.” His response awoke a need in you that you thought you’d buried. You knew what he was suggesting. Everything in you wanted to take the gentle suggestion and cross the room to him, but then what.

 Groaning, you peeled your eyes from his and turned. “Yes, I have to. Good night Charlie.” Those were the last words before you made your rapid exit.

 The following morning you awoke to the scent of food being prepared. When you looked at the clock, it was almost ten. Usually, you’d be up by eight. You’d slept in. Quickly you brushed your teeth and pulled on a pair of leggings then went downstairs. As you neared the kitchen, you could smell the evidence of what promised to be a delicious breakfast. You turned, and there was Charlie standing over the store in his tank cooking away. Good lord help you he’d buffed up even more, you thought. Times like these you wished things had been different. You missed mornings like this. Charlie looked up and smiled when he saw you. As you approached, his eyes roamed your body before his eyebrows knitted together.

 “What?”

 “Is that my hoodie?” You looked over yourself and realized your error. It was normal for you to sleep in his clothes, but you didn’t realize you still worse it.

 “Nope.” It was a lie but one he couldn’t fully prove.

 Charlie scoffed but didn’t speak again for a long time. You took the opportunity to bring up his impromptu visit.

 “You can’t just show up unannounced Charlie. That is not okay. You can see CJ whenever you want I have never kept the two of you apart but just showing up here—you can’t.”

 Charlie nodded and but kept his eyes down. “I know, I’m sorry. I just—I really missed CJ, and I had to see him, so see you. I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to talk.”

 What the hell were you supposed to say to that, you thought. Sensing your speechlessness, Charlie spoke. “I’m sorry about last night. I was out of line.”

 “Let’s not talk about it, CJ will be down any minute.”

 “I have to talk about it. I’m losing my mind. I’ve been losing it for the last near two years, and—I’m struggling,” Charlie admitted. His candor shook you. Half of you wanted to know more, but the other half was too scared.

 “Charlie, it’s fine. Let’s move on.”

 “I can’t. I can’t be like you. You have everything so put together. You’ve pieced this life together without me, and I can’t seem to piece any life together without you—without CJ.”

 It was then CJ came running down. It should have been sooner because you were absolutely ruined now.  You and Charlie stared at each other. He was daring you to speak, to acknowledge what he’d just dropped on you.

 “Daddy!” CJ jumped onto Charlie bringing his attention to your son. You took the reprieve to dip into the half bath to pull yourself together.

 You tried to wrap your head around what he’s said, tried to make sense of it. After five minutes, you still couldn’t come to terms with it, so you did the next best thing, pushed it aside. When you walked back out, CJ was sitting at the dining table, as was Charlie.

 “Ready to eat, mommy?”

 “Absolutely.” You sat at the table and dove into the food, all the while avoiding Charlie’s eyes. Through breakfast, he and CJ talked and joked with each other. It was a welcomed chatter because it took the attention off you.

 Once breakfast was finished, you cleaned the dishes while CJ got himself dressed for a playdate he’d been looking forward to the whole week. Now that Charlie was there, he refused to go. It wasn’t until Charlie promised he’d still be there when he got back did CJ agree. When the two of them came down, CJ was dressed and ready just in time for him to be picked up. You thanked Claudia for setting it up the playdate and waved goodbye to CJ from the front door.

 When you turned around, Charlie was leaning on the steps watching. You hesitated closing the door to enclose yourself in a confined space that had plenty of surfaces for him to bend you over. When you did, you quickly walked back to the kitchen.

 “We have to talk, Y/N.”

 “No, we don’t. There is nothing to talk about.”

 “Bullshit. After yesterday, last night, even in the kitchen this morning. We have plenty to talk about,” Charlie responded, following you through the house.

 “Charlie, don’t.”

 “I have to. Are you happy? Like really happy? It’s been a year. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted? Did you want our son feeling like a consolation in our relationship?”

 “Are you happy? You’ve gotten what you wanted.”

 “Me?! Y/N, you gave me divorce papers. You left our house and never came back,” Charlie shouted through clenched jaws.

 “Oh right, I’m the big bad wolf. You know how to fight for a role, but you have no clue how to fight for your marriage, your son. Classic.” You slammed the kitchen fridge unsure why you’d opened it in the first place.

 “Don’t pull that. I fought, I came to you over and over, begging you not to do it, pleading with you. You refused to listen.”

 “What did you come to me for Charlie? What the hell did you prove to me? What did you show me? What was I going back for? The same bullshit? The same treatment?! In all the times you came begging and pleading, you never once showed me how things would change. You just didn’t want a divorce under your belt. You didn’t want the press to get wind of it.”

 “That’s bullshit! I wanted my wife; I wanted my son! You didn’t want me. When did you stop loving me, Y/N?”

 You looked at him incredulously. He had to be fucking kidding, you thought. Your anger was rising by leaps and bounds, and you knew the next words out your mouth were going to be venom. “Is the weight of it all too heavy now, Charlie? A year later, a year after you switched up and changed? A year after you showed me time and time and again what was important, who was important. You showed me I didn’t mean shit; CJ didn’t mean shit. I was not going to stay and turn into those Hollywood couples who hated each other and only remained for the spotlight. No!”

 “You gave up on me,” Charlie whispered.

 “Fuck you! You gave up. You gave up on me and us long before I left you those divorce papers. You did.” You walked away because you could feel your tears spilling over, but you turned around back to him, tired of hiding the fallout of his actions. “You know what makes all of this so much worse? My friends told me this would happen. They told me before we got married, told me to slow down, be careful with you, and I defended you. I defended you till kingdom come. Look where we are, Charlie! Living in a perfect lie!”

 “I don’t want to live this lie. I miss you, Y/N. I miss CJ. I miss our life; I miss our family. I’m miserable,” Charlie dropped.

 His tears ran down his cheeks, and you flared your nose. This was always your weakness. Charlie had always been in touch with his emotions, but his emotions had to be overwhelming for him to cry.

 “Good. You sowed this Charlie. You brought all of this on. My baby--,” you began, but the pain was too much. Charlie sobbed and dropped his head back.

 “I’m sorry,” he said as he approached you. You steadily backed away from him, not wanting him to touch you.

 “Y/N,” Charlie began as you shook your head.

 “No. I’m not doing this with you. I refuse.”

 Charlie quickly caught you before you turned and kept you facing him. “You can’t run from this Y/N. Face it with me, please.”

 You kept a straight face, refusing to cry any more. You refused to allow him any closer than he already was. You wouldn’t survive it this time. Charlie grunted out in frustration when he realized you were hell-bent on keeping him at bay.

 “Y/N!”

 “What do you want from me, Charlie?” You shot death rays right at him.

 “I want you to say anything! Scream! Yell at me! Just something to show you fucking care.”

 “Why should I care? Why the hell should I give one flying fuck?”

 “Because I’m still in love with you!”

 The words felt like a slap in the face. You’d imagined how they’d sound coming from him during the whole divorce process, during the whole year after the divorce. You were convinced he didn’t love you anymore for him to have treated you the way he did, for him to have done what he did in Cannes. The stress of it brought on your miscarriage.

 Though you’d wanted to hear them, you hadn’t prepared to hear them.

 “I love you. God, I can't keep pretending like I'm okay with any of this. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t kill me to be away from you, to be away from CJ. I can’t act like I’m thriving or happy. I’m not. I’m miserable. I wish I could press rewind and go back and better, do better. I wish I knew better then, as I know now. I fucked up, and I regret it more than I’ve ever regretted anything in my life. If I had been a better man, none of this would have happened. If I’d only been the man you deserved our baby—our princess would be here right now. I will have to live with that for the rest of my life, the pain that I caused your miscarriage, the pain that I broke our vows, that I broke your heart, I broke us.”

 Charlie dropped his forehead to your collar, and his tears dropped across your chest. They felt like acid peeling away every barrier you’d built between him and your heart. He was saying everything you want him to, everything. He wasn’t holding anything back. They were words you’d desperately wanted to hear.

 “I’m sorry, love dove. I never wanted to give up on you--on us. I loved you so much. You were my world until CJ. Then you became my universe. I lost myself. I lost sight of you and me. I lost sight of the man I was and wanted to be. For that, I will always be sorry. Losing you and CJ, it broke me. I stand here a broken man. I had to find me again. It’s been hard, but the root of me is you and my son. My family. You have always been what mattered, and I regret I ever lost that, that I ever made you feel like you weren’t my everything.”

 One lone tear rolled down your cheek, and that was just the beginning. When Charlie swiped it away with the pad of his thumb, the flood gates opened. You bawled uncontrollably, all your emotions finally catching up to you. Charlie wept with you, and that was how the two of you stayed for countless minutes.

 When you opened your eyes and realized how close he was, you sniffled. Slowly the two of you inched to one another. Before your lips touched, both of you hesitated. “Fall back in love with me, love dove.” He whispered.

 He really thought you’d ever fallen out of love with him. “You’re an idiot if you think I’ve ever fallen out of love with you.” The hope you saw in Charlie’s eyes set your belly fluttering. It was overwhelming. Charlie claimed your lips in a soft but passionate kiss that took your breath away. It was so intense you felt as if you’d been possessed by sheer desire. The kiss began timid and soft, but in seconds, it had turned into a lustful and sensual soul transference. Charlie’s hands gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him before he lifted you in his arms.

 Wrapping your legs around him, you kissed him back with as much heat as you kissed you. Soon the two of you were walking through the house blindly looking for anywhere. Charlie plopped you onto something, and the backs of your knees said it was the kitchen island. Quickly both of you stripped each other. He pulled off his hoodie from your body as you peel his shirt off. Charlie cupped your breasts when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra then dipped his mouth to your mounds. Instantly you moaned and hugged his head to your flesh.

 Charlie nipped and hypnotizingly sucked your skin, bringing you more and more ecstasy. It had been so long since you’d felt like this; you didn’t want to think about anything else but the sensations. Charlie pushed you back onto the island and brought his lips down your stomach to your hip. Once there, he pulled off your leggings in one fluid motion. His beard tickled your skin and had you wriggling underneath him. Charlie’s groan was loud when he realized you wore nothing under those leggings.

 In seconds he’d draped your legs over his shoulder and reclaimed claimed ownership of the most intimate part of you. He moaned as he lapped at your wetness and teased and pleased your body. You bucked your hips against his lips, feeling your orgasm barrel toward you. Everything in you said it was going to be a catastrophic one. You panted and gasped his name as your body wildly thrashed, unable to control it any longer.

 “Aah, yes, right there. Yes, Charlie, yes, yes!”

 Your scream was loud, and the tightness of your legs around his head was enough to suffocate. Charlie didn’t panic. Instead, he lifted your lower half into the air and continued his feast, not caring if you were overstimulated or not. Your screech echoed off the walls of the kitchen, and you tried to pry him away from your sex. He refused to budge even when you’d unwrapped your legs the best you could. Yet another orgasm ripped through you, sending a gush of moisture all over his mouth and beard. Charlie groaned, gripped your breasts, and squeezed hard enough for you to know just how tightly wound he was.

 When he pried your legs from around him, you felt the renewed fire and quickly slid off the island to drop before him. You hurriedly stripped him eager to have him. Once he was free, his heavy cock bobbed in front of you. Wasting no more time, you slid him into your mouth, ignoring your gag and took every inch he was blessed with. Charlie shouted and hugged your head to his cock, keeping him lodged tightly in your throat. Sensing the low levels of your air supply, he pulled back enough to give you a brief reprieve. It was all you needed and more than you wanted.

 Slamming him back into your mouth, you lodged him in your throat again, all the while moaning enthusiastically. Charlie’s hands never left your head just as his mouth never closed. Moan after moan fell from him as you sucked and slurped his length. In no time at all, Charlie was thrusting into your mouth hell-bent on finding his long-overdue release. Just as you were finding a groove, Charlie pulled from your mouth with a loud “pop” before he pulled you up and pushed you onto the island.

 With you bent over the island and your ass poked out for him, Charlie rubbed his cock across your soaking folds sending shivers through you. He bent to your ear and kissed you.

 “I love you, only you. Endlessly for eternity.” It was the same thing he’d said the night of your wedding before he joined you for the first time as husband and wife. When you peeped behind you and locked eyes with him, you knew the two of you had an understanding. Charlie kissed your back then snapped his hips forward, harshly, and completely filling you to the hilt. You shouted and gripped the island. Your knees bucked from the sheer pleasure of just this. When you clenched around him, Charlie, have you just what you wanted—a rough tryst.

 Every slam into your core had you clenching around him. Each thrust was more bruising than the last, and each one brought tears to your eyes. They weren’t hurt tears; they were a mixture of relief and complete joy. You shouted his name over and over, not caring how needy or desperate you sounded. You could feel how on edge he was; his body shook every time he filled you, and every time you said his name, he shouted yours.

 When Charlie began jackhammering into you clearly lost in his pleasure, you left planet Earth. Only he could have you like this. Only he could fuck you into outer space. You knew he was close, and the second he whimpered behind you, you pressed back into him, throwing your ass back onto him. Charlie sucked in a breath, and his whimpers intensified. The slap to your ass was the last thing you needed to be pushed over the edge, an edge you dragged him over. Charlie grunted and groaned as he filled you with every ounce of his love.

 It took several long moments for the two of you to come down from your sultry sex bubble. After having you across the island, you rode him until his toes curled, and he saw stars on the kitchen floor leaned against the same island. By the time you’d both stopped, hours had passed. Neither of you were fully satiated. As Charlie hugged you to him still buried deep within you, he tipped your chin so you were looming at him.

 “Marry me again.” Shocked, you searched his face for his meaning.

 “You’re not serious.”

 “I am. Will you be my wife again?” the gleam of silver caught your eye, and you looked down to see him wearing your engagement and wedding ring on a chain around his neck. Your world shattered. He’d worn them this entire time. Locking eyes with him again, you knew he could tell you realized what he was wearing.

 “All this time?” Charlie held up his hand to show you the silver wedding band he still wore.

 “I promised forever; I wasn’t done with it.” Your tears fell, and so many emotions filled you; you had no idea which one to go with.

 “I have to do whatever it takes to stop my heart from being broken, Charlie,” you whispered.

 “I’ll never break your heart again. I know how it ends. I know what it means. I can’t risk my life without you or CJ anymore. I can’t.” His tears welled, and you believed him.

 “Surrender to me, love dove. Surrender to me as I can only surrender to you.” His voice was pleading with you. Closing your eyes, you listened to your soul, the place where no fear lived. When you looked at him, you trailed your thumb across his bottom lip.

 “Give them back.” Charlie looked confused for a few seconds before he got it. Quickly he yanked the chain from around his neck and slid the rings off to hover them over your finger before he locked eyes with you.

 “Never again will we be here. Never again will I lose us,” Charlie forcefully vowed.

 “Never again will I walk away,” you responded. He looked overwhelmingly emotional then, but you could see him holding as much of it back as possible. When he slid the rings onto your finger, both of you sighed as if you both felt instant relief.

 You knew this was a new beginning for the two of you but also for CJ. You knew that neither of you would ever again make the same mistakes.

 “I surrender,” you both whispered together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Sound Proof

okay so this fic was from Wattpad and I found it in my google docs so I’m just gonna upload it here for ya’ll lol. I didn’t tag, I wrote this a while ago let me know what ya’ll think!!!

Warnings: Smut.

With dancing, came immense concentration and a lot of cardio.

That was all okay for Damara. She wore her silk pressed hair back into a pony, simple Polo Ralph Lauren hat on to keep her edges slicked back, high waist thin grey leggings, all white cropped tank, and matching white Vans. Damara held onto the aluminum double bar Ballet barre, studying her glistening reflection within the wall mirrors that covered every single area from floor to ceiling. 

Her chest rose and fell, right hand coming up to rub sweat off the tip of her nose. She had thirty minutes down, only twenty more to go. Being a pro dancer was fun when you posted tutorials on Instagram and YouTube, but when it came down to touring internationally and getting a chance to perform at Coachella, dance became a full time job.

Damara stares down at her version three iWatch, allowing herself to become consumed with the breathing app. She watched it expand with every breath, then declined whenever she exhaled. After her breathing returned to normal, Damara pulled up her iTunes playlist again, choosing to go sensual with a little bit of flash dance routine.

The instrumental to Kendrick Lamar- Love.

This song was always a warm up for her because it got her ‘in the mood’. She could feel the want and need behind the beat and his words. Damara snakes her hands up her frame, sliding slowly from the cuff of her ass, to her lower back, and lightly up and over her shoulders, forearms pressing into her large D cup breasts. 

One thing is for sure, Damara could move her torso like Shakira, body rolling and ticking to the beat with perfect harmony. Doing a sudden spin on her tiptoes, Damara Lowers herself to the polished flooring, arching her back off of the surface with her legs spread into a V, before lifting her lower half off the ground to do a series of air kicks like she was back in an 80s workout video or like she was in Kanye West’s video for Fade instead of Teyana Taylor.

She turned over onto her hands, hitting a side to side split perfectly before lifting from the ground to walk seductive and tantalizing towards the middle of the dance studio.

That’s where it began, the sweatiest most bewitching dance yet. Her hands cascade everywhere, eyes closed to take in the beat with heightened hearing. Her hands rubbed along the outline of her pussy in a teasing manner. Damara was so shameless when it came to dancing provocatively. She twirled and made an S with her body like a snake, body in sync to the beat. The sultry look in her eyes could trap you like Medusa. You would think she danced to one of Prince's songs from the outside looking in. 

The song came to an end, Damara lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it in the corner, picking up her gallon water bottle to take a huge sip. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling the burn in her curvy waistline from all the crunching and belly rolling that came with dancing. Her gluteal muscles were on fire as well, causing Damara to admire her ass in the mirror, sweat staining the crack of her ass over the fabric. 

—

Finishing up, Damara grabs all her things before leaving the dance studio at the gym she finally snagged a membership for. The gym had two sections: one for premium guests who had VIP access to the soundproof workout rooms or standard. Sadly, Damara was standard. She always wanted to workout in the soundproof tinted glass rooms like all the extremely fit individuals did, but one look through those glasses at the equipment housed within would make you withdraw with fear. Her personal trainer had stressed for her to go VIP, bribing her with access to the ice bath room and luxury pool where you can watch the LA skyline like you’re in a hotel.

She made a left at the end of the hall, walking with her shirt and towel over her shoulder to the main gymnasium area full of musky people and terrible workout music. Even though Damara did a one hour session of dancing, she couldn’t help but to gravitate towards the stair master for a good fifteen minute burn. Once there, Damara climbs the stairs, beginning her workout on nine speed, instantly feeling the ache. Her eyes scanned the area, finally landing on a group of women huddled around one of the sound proof workout rooms for VIP gold card members. 

She let out a tired chuckle, shaking her ponytail clad head before pausing to drink some water. Of COURSE they would all salivate over some random ass man instead of working out, because that’s what gyms are for these days. On queue every day Damara comes to the gym, once the clock strikes 8 pm, a hoard of women suffocate the glass, fogging it with their heavy breathing and wetting it with saliva from their wiggling tongues. Damara would have been one of them if she listened to her group of girlfriends who didn’t come in tonight. Supposedly, there is this fine ass man that comes to the gym every day, around 8 pm. Damara never seems to catch him, and even if she did, no man was that fine to act like a hyena over. He couldn’t be that sexy.

“Ooo, girl, let me get off this got damn treadmill he back again!” Damara turned to find a short, slim, mocha skinned girl with a track runners body ogling the group of women, her friend who looked like she could be her sister, biting her lip.

“I wonder if he’s doing the pull ups right now, fuckk. You know his dick stay hard when he working out.” 

The other girl laughs, “I just want to suck it. Just give me one good time!” 

Both women laughed while Damara tries her best to work out and ignore them. But to her surprise, she couldn’t focus. Not because of the talking, but because she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Maybe after this she could rub it in her friends faces that whoever this guy was, wasn’t about the hype after all.

Defeated, Damara stopped her workout, quickly lowering herself off the machine and towards some spray and paper towels to wipe away her sweat. Tossing everything, Damara makes her way towards the sound proof workout room straight across from the men’s locker room. 

Here she was, and yet just a few minutes ago she was laughing to herself at how ridiculous it was to come to a gym and stare at a man for two hours. Wasn’t no man fine enough for that.

The glass window straight ahead had about seven ladies standing in front of it, whispering and admiring at what looked like absolutely nothing to Damara. It was so dark she couldn’t see a thing. As she got closer, at first, all she could see through that glass was the usual workout machines of all types and weight racks. Just before she could walk away, he started lifting those weights. Suddenly, as if pulled by some type of force field, Damara turned into a fan girl with glossy eyes and a watery mouth. He had to be the one her friends were talking up. There is no way he couldn’t be the one with how fine he is. 

“This must be your first time noticing Erik.” 

Damara turned to the lady who looked to be twice her age standing next to her.

Damara didn’t respond, she simply looked back at him through that tinted glass. He was so fucking sexy that her jaw dropped; literally. Erik was definitely the one her friends were juiced up over. Not the juice you drink, but the drip from that pussy when she hungry for a nigga as damn fine as he is. 

Erik had been bench pressing weights and she couldn’t get a good enough look at him until he lowered the weights. Yeah, when he was laid out on his back, sweaty muscles moving as he lifted 280 pounds over his head he looked good, but GOD once he stood up was she slapped with his looks.

Erik was wearing sweat shorts that dropped low around his waist, a damp sweat top and a pair of Nike Air Max Trainer 1s on his feet.

His braided back dreads were damp from the perspiration; it really set off his caramel complexion.

Erik returned his weights to their respective places and stood facing that mirror with a bottle of gatorade. Damara could really see how perfect he was. Fine wasn’t even the word, it was so much she could say about him. The look in his eyes, the way his muscles moved in conjunction with him, the smoothness of his skin, the hairstyle that compliments him very well, and let’s not forget those lips. She figured he got many compliments on his lips, as beautiful and suckable as they were. That thick erection he was sporting was an added bonus. All she could see was herself lowering onto it and rocking like crazy, like she was riding a horse. When she returned to reality from her lustful daze, she noticed her hands were flat against the glass, jaw STILL dropped, and her nipples tender and hard practically clawing at him. They were so hard that they were hurting, and the feeling of his lips pulling and sucking and licking on them would have been exactly what she needed, just pull her shirt down and suck em.

All of that talk and fantasizing in her head, ironically made his eyes meet hers. Damara swore she thought those big, dark eyes could see her and only her. The lady she ignored next to her smiled, like she knew what Damara was going through. She did, that’s why her and the others were still there.

——

Feeling a little foolish and embarrassed by her behavior, Damara asked the lady next to her if Erik could see them or was it one of those half way windows.

“Girl, he can see us alright. That’s why his dick is so big and hard poking through those shorts. He sees something he likes.” 

Damara looked back at him, and right then like a spark had been ignited, he smiled a little at her with dimples, then winked before downing the rest of his gatorade. Damara could feel her knees buckle, body so nervous. She decided it was most definitely time to bounce. That night, Damara never told her girls about seeing the living legend, but she did go back the following day, a Wednesday, to stare him down at that window again. She purposely went there alone to have him to herself. It was crazy how obsessed he became.

——

After about a week or so of admiring Erik through that glass, Damara decided to take it up a notch and use the adjoining women’s workroom; yeah, like she could actually bench press any of the equipment in there. Getting into that women’s workroom meant that she had to become a gold member. The upgrade was about 20 dollars more, which landed her to about 80 dollars a month; great.

She felt like she’d been walking the yellow brick road to the emerald city. Opening those double glass doors to her new sanctuary,  she could smell musk no longer, only fresh air and a cool breeze. The music was even better in there, sicko mode playing low through the speakers. It was approximately 7:50 pm, so she knew Erik would be arriving soon. 

At about 8:15, a little later than usual, Erik pulled open the doors and walked into the men’s workroom. He had his dreads crinkled and messy, a pair of Beats solo 3 in black with gold trim over his ears, black Nike pro training top that clung to his body like it was two sizes too small, matching black shorts that hung low on his hips with the waistband of his compression pants peeking through. He hadn’t immediately seen Damara on the other side since she was in the corner tugging on the pull ropes that she couldn’t make budge. She didn’t really know what to do. If she popped out of nowhere near that window, she could scare him to death, and he’d be mad. He looked like the no nonsense type too. 

Damara decided that hiding wouldn’t fix anything so she came out into the open to do some yin yoga poses that helped stretch her body. Sitting Indian style, she started with the butterfly, bending forward while gripping her shoes. The stretch made her moan, all the tension in her back disappearing. Next, she decided on the dragon, bringing one foot forward in a low lunge, stretching out her glutes and back again. Admiring herself, she liked the way her ass looked in the tinted mirror, and apparently so did Erik. Her heart dropped to her stomach like she’d been on the tallest roller coaster, her eyes reverting towards the ground. Damara could feel his eyes on her still as she lifted from the ground, rolling her neck. With one hand on the back of her neck to stretch the muscles, her eyes met his again. That same slight smile graced his face again, almost innocent, but those eyes were dark and sultry, like hot coal.

The heat turned down just a little, Erik walking away leaving Damara a flustered mess.

——

He started out with a little cross training. Damara watched from her workout mat in between doing crunches. Next, he pumped a little iron. She noticed how he enjoyed admiring himself when he lifted weights. The veins in his arms would bulge so much it looked like they wanted to break the surface of his skin. She could see his mouth slightly opened, concentration set in his features, and she just knew he was making those grunting, straining noises that guys make when they workout. Watching those muscles flex and bulge like that made her weak in the knees again. She liked the feeling. When he lay on his back to do the leg lifts, that’s when she lost it in a major way. The weight Damara had in her hand to do Russian twists fell down on her shoulder. She screamed out without even knowing it. All she could feel was pain beginning to throb in her left shoulder, and she laid back on the floor massaging it with a whimper. Unfortunately, at that time Erik was the last thing on her mind. When Damara got enough nerve to look at the window, Erik was pressed against it looking at her. He mouthed to her since it was sound proof, “You aight, Lil Mama?”

After Damara figured out his words, she nodded and gave him the okay symbol with a tired smile. Erik stares at her for a few seconds, scanning her frame in that PUMA workout suit she decided to wear, then moved on to the leg machine again. Damara liked the way he scouted her, and that made the pain in her shoulder go unnoticed.

——

Throughout their workouts, they would peep each other, and he liked the attention she was showering him with. There he was again with those pull-ups, directly facing her with intimidation in his eyes. Somehow, he had lost his shirt along the way, sweat pouring off his body like he’d been doing push-ups in the rain. 

Damara’s workout suit was almost see-through and hugging all her curves, and he definitely paid attention because his erection was good and hard, tenting the front of those black workout shorts like wild. Damara wanted to think it was solely her making those pants tent like that, but working the hell out of those machines may have played a role in it. She’s good, but not that good.

The more she looked at Erik, the more she wanted to taste him, feel him pressing into her throat. 

Damara looked down at her iWatch and realized it was minutes to closing time, but she couldn’t leave that room, let alone that window. She hated to leave because he was worth staying and getting caught with. Knowing the kind of man Erik was, he probably got a kick out of the chicks staring his fine ass down, then going home to his equally fine ass girl. That was the kind of luck Damara had: finding the juiciest man on the planet, but not able to land him because he was taken.

Damara suddenly had a lightbulb moment. Erik was a gold member, with a passkey to leave the gym if he ever got locked in. Damara could lie and say she lost her passkey, having to go to him to get out...or to get off! Shit, lord knows she needs that, it’s been way too long. Suddenly, Erik made a move she hadn’t been prepared for. He stepped away from the weight trainer and approached the window again. Damara couldn’t move, couldn’t muster a speech, all she could do was watch him approach her with that sweaty, perfect body. Maybe not so perfect to some because it was littered with tiny raised scars, but to her it was absolutely perfect. Man, the closer he got to her, the hotter she got. In all her orgasmic nonsense with a pussy so wet and probably creaming her panties, it soon dawned on her that he probably approached her to ask her why she’s still there; that maybe he was tired of being stared at as if he were a zoo animal. Damara got scared and backed up.

Erik backed up a bit, confusion on his face before chuckling, giving her a head to toe view of him, then he got busy. His eyes stared into hers as he massaged that massive erection up and down through his pants. Damara could feel her nectar elevating within her core. Then it hit her, he was about to give her a private sex show. Was she about to bounce? Fuck no, she stayed and watched everything that pretty nigga did.

When his erection got hard and thick within his pants, he let out a fucking dazzling smile that could make her cum right there. No man had ever smiled so wickedly at her that her panties got wet; then again, she’d never met Erik. His pecs were mouthwatering to the point of drool, contours and ripples were everywhere. All her nasty little tongue wanted to do was lick, lick from his collarbone to his abs and continue south. Her hands shook as they clutched her chest, feeling her nipples brush against her fingers. All the while, her eyes never left his.

——-

Bending to remove his shoes and socks was a chore because that delicious dick was in the way, but he managed. His fingers beckoned Damara to get closer. Damara knew he was going to slide his pants down next, the nigga was clever with his seduction. She moved back to that window, and watched him slide his shorts to his hips. His dick bounced out, sprang to life, and she dropped to her knees, wondering how all that would feel stroking her insides. He was real heavy, the type of dick where the tip and about two inches could only fit in the pussy. The type of dick where you would push him away while he blew your back out from getting too deep. The type of dick where you had to use two hands to jerk while you sucked; you really gotta be a pro to suck a dick like that with no hands, not to mention ride a dick like that.

Erik bit at his plump bottom lip, massaging it with his tongue while his hand massaged that long pole; that damn snake. The more he stroked, the bigger and bigger it became within his hand. He strokes that beautiful dick until he was about ready to nut. He mouthed at her through that sound proof glass, 

“I want that throat.”

His muscles tensed, he squeezed it harder, and playfully rubbed it against the glass directly where her mouth was. She swore she could taste him, feel him sliding it between her lips and forcing his inches into her. Erik stroked it so hard that she could see the moisture forming on his tip. Damara couldn’t help herself, she had to reach between her thighs and stroke her pussy to match his tempo. Damara pulled her suit down, revealing her drenched sports bra and panties to him. She didn’t want to waste any time the way her fingers made its way to her panties, pulling the fabric to the side to reveal her wet sticky treat. The more he stroked himself, the deeper her fingers slide into her valley; all three of them. When Erik dropped to the floor, she scrambled to see what he was going to do next. It was fucking outrageous! That pretty ass nigga got on his back and moved his hips up and down like a bitch was on top of him. Damara screamed in ecstasy over the sight of it. Her fingers went deeper and deeper like she was trying to scoop her cum out the pussy. She turned around and arched her back, rubbing at her clit with one hand while fingering herself with the other. He pumped hard and long, perspiration dripping from him, muscles tensing. Damara just knew he was going to explode on the floor instead of her which was a damn shame. No. No fucking way. He turned over on his stomach, and did push-ups, pumping those hips and dick into oblivion. He still hadn’t cum for her yet. His arm shook when he did his one-handed push-ups, dick throbbing in his other hand. She felt her orgasm building deep in her belly, her legs shaking from muscle strain and intense pleasure. That was the grand finale, watching him cream into his own hands while staring her down. 

Damara screamed out, Cumming on her fingers with a shake of her body.

——

He returned to his back and pressed out so much cum that she almost fainted from the orgasm he gave her. When her breathing returned to normal, Damara looked into her hand, now covered with so much of her own thick moisture that her fingers were sticking together. Then she glanced up at him watching her with a sweet smile on those wonderful lips—his erection was still in his hand and still harder than boulders. 

The windows were nice and steamed by the time he and Damara finished. She watched him grab the rest of his belongings and headed for the showers. Damara took off as well, figuring that was all she’d get from him. 

Damara made her way to the showers herself, letting her plan go. At least she got a good show from him so she was thankful. 

While in the shower, Damara couldn’t help but smile as she wet her body under the steamy water. She struggled to fight the urge that this was it and probably her last sex show a man would ever give her and he didn’t even touch her. Damara allowed the warm water to trickle down her aching joints and relaxed. Her body mitt delicately encircled her breasts, pretending the sultry touch was Erik’s fingers, sucking on them gently before making a tongue track down to her core. She shuddered in waves of heat. Her body trembled, spasms, taking her mind off the pain from her injured shoulder. She completely gave in to pleasure and let the most tremendous orgasm hit her like no other one had ever before...well, until Erik happened on the scene. 

Then.

“Damn, girl.”

The words came from nowhere. Damara assumed they had been in her mind. Nonetheless, her eyes opened and she twirled around to see if anyone had come in. There Erik was, standing directly in front of her. Damara tried reaching for her towel but Erik snatched it from the railing before she could get it.

His cool, seductive voice melted into her horny spirit. 

“Imagine how big this dick would be if I would have been standing right above that ass, watching you finger that pussy from the front. All I could see was that phat ass shaking and quivering to some sexual fantasy. Was it about me?” 

Damara couldn’t speak. All she could do was look down at the towel around his midsection, sporting a killer of an erection. Her mouth opened, her voice cracked. 

“I...I, uh…”

“It’s okay, babygirl. I already know that ass was thinking about me. How could you not after the show I gave you.” 

Erik moves toward her, one step away from entering the stall with her. 

“You liked that show I already know that shit. I already know I got you”— he slapped her pussy, then reached around to palm her ass roughly, smacking each ass cheek causing it to sting—“hot enough to want more, right? You should anyway since I gave you a little taste of what the fuck I got,” he pulled his towel off and entered the stall.

It was different from having that window in between them both, Damara covering her nakedness with her arms. Erik pulled them down.

“Don’t you dare cover up a fucking thing.”

The grip on her wrists were so tight her hands shook.

“So, you just walk in women’s locker rooms? What if I wasn’t the only one here?” 

He chuckles, letting her wrists go, “And? I don’t give a fuck about that. It’s okay for me to do whatever I fucking please in here.” He kisses her cheek. “I’m Erik—“

“I know who you are, Erik. Every woman within a five-city radius knows who you are.” 

“Yeah? And who might you be?”

“Damara; nothing exotic, nothing romantic, just regular old Damara.”

“Not from where I’m standing, girl. You are so fucking sexy. I bet you taste good too, I know that pussy enjoyed me pleasing you.”

“It did, I can still feel it.” She lets out a moan.

“Well then that pussy won’t mind if I please you again?”

Damara relaxed, his hands covering her breasts, much the same way they did in her daydream. He stroked the tight tips with his thumbs, then replaced them with his lips. She was right, that mouth was made to suck on some titties. Erik sucked them ferociously, licking them like they were candy. Her head reared back as he sucked like he was trying to milk her. Her back arched off that wall, his arm circling her waist and pulling her close.

“So, you want everything, huh?”

“Every single drop.”

Erik’s muscles tightened around Damara; their bodies pressed against the wall. As the water continues to drench them, he lifted her into his arms; her legs hugged his hips. She felt the tip of that delicious dick play with her opening, tease it, rub up and down on it. She faces him, staring into those delicious brown eyes of his. 

“It’s almost closing time, I couldn’t leave yet without a little taste.” 

It definitely wouldn’t be a little with how big he was. Damara prepares herself for the surprise, her pussy clenching and quivering on its own. Erik takes his fingers to caress her clit, taking a single finger to tease it with a flickering motion. Damara kept a firm grip on his neck, pressed against the shower wall. 

“I’m playing wit that clit good, huh?”

She responds with a bite to his shoulder, her pussy jerking in his hand. Erik brings his fingers to his mouth, spits on them, then brings them back to her clit. He was very generous with his spit, making her pussy extra sloppy. Clearly with him still going at it on her clit he aimed to make her cum this time with his own fingers. 

“Ok, you working my clit,” she felt him take his dick to finish it off, rubbing her clit in circles. The smoothness of the tip of his dick hit every sensitive spot on her clit. 

“Make that pussy cum,” she edged him on.

His hand came down to grip her ass while he worked, her body shuddering, legs securing around him even harder, moans echoing off of the shower walls. 

“Shit, fuck, damn…”

She could feel the sensitivity in her pussy too.

“Open up for me.”

Damara opened wider, Erik bringing his dick to her pussy. He pushed his way in slow, only by a few inches before she clamped up. Her guess was correct, he was too much to take. Damara was scared now, she didn’t know if she could go through with it.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking big,” her eyes grew wide.

“Ha, You knew that already when you saw me jerking it.” 

“I’m too tight.”

“So?” He moves his hips, teasing her walls to let him in further. Her body crunched, hand to his chest. Was she fucking a monster dick or what? His shit was too damn much.

“Chill,” her eyelids fluttered. She wouldn’t be able to stand.

“You’ve been eyeing me all fucking week, teasing me and shit and now you wanna cry about how big my dick is?” 

He kissed at her neck, causing her to moan and rub her wet face against his. She brought her hands to his biceps, squeezing them tightly. 

“Be gentle, okay? It’s too damn big.”

Erik takes that invitation, gripping her hips firm before pressing himself in inch by inch, pausing in between. Each time he entered her it felt like he was ripping her a new hole, but it felt so full in a good way. Along with the pain came a shock of pleasure. The vein on the underside of his shaft rubbed smoothly at the floor of her pussy, a new sensation she had never felt. It curves at the tip to hit her g spot, swiping it each time he moves his hips.

“I don’t think I ever had a dick this good,” she hissed the moment he fully entered her. 

“I already know you didn’t with all that crying you was doing.” He pulled out to the tip, purposely, to make her feel every inch again. Erik pushes back in, watching the way her face went through a series of confused and unprepared emotions. It was time to pick up the pace now. Erik started off slow, his strokes growing and her moans. Damara held onto the rails along the walls of the shower, watching with astonishment how Erik’s dick fucked her.

“Oh, oh, omg,” she shook tremendously, a single hand clawing at Erik’s chest. He simply fucks her with deeper strokes, reminding her what came with every inch. Clearly he had a fetish for making women cry from how big he was. That rock hard body came with a huge package. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!!!!!” She felt a rush of pressure forming in her lower belly, so big it pushes Erik’s dick out, a fountain of liquid pouring. The more she clenched, the more it flowed. Damara couldn’t control it and it shocked her. No way, this nigga made her squirt and for the first time ever. She’d always tried to make that happen for herself but it never worked so she would give up. 

That seemed to fuel Erik even more, he brought one of her legs up into a split, entering her body again. This time, he flexed his abs, bringing his dick into even more of a curve, really hitting her spot. Erik knew what he was doing, he wanted to see the reaction again.

“Come on, take this big dick,” he held her leg up even if it shook.

“Ah, fuck yes, shit it’s happening again!!” Before she could relax, here she was, squirting again but Erik stayed in. He smiled, slamming her so hard with his dick that she could feel it in her stomach. At this point, Damara might as well lose count of how many orgasms she’ll have. 

———

It was true.

Damara has missed two days of the gym for a reason. 

She couldn’t get out of the damn bed the morning after her and Erik had sex. Her pussy was sore and sensitive, inner thighs shaking when she stood from the bed. Damara didn’t bother exchanging numbers with him, unsure if she would even be able to take him up on a second chance. Deciding to be a big girl, Damara went to the gym for a dance session. 

She stood in the mirrored dance studio wearing a leotard colored bronze, a pair of sweats on and her hair in a messy bun with her vans. She skimmed through her playlist on iTunes, adjusting her AirPods to her liking.

Damara had to squat ballerina style to stretch her thigh muscles, bringing her leg up to extend the muscles of her inner thigh. Rolling her neck, she turns from the mirror, deciding to dance to a Nicki song. Once she got in the groove with the tempo, she started her routine. Her body moved like magic. The mirror wasn’t her own audience anymore, Erik was standing at the door watching her closely. He didn’t make a move, his eyes following her skillful moves along with her dangerous body, I mean, Damara was thick. Even through her loose fitted sweats he could tell. Now that Erik got a good look at her, he recognized her from Instagram.

DeetheeDancer.

She was pretty popular on social media for her dancing. Erik watched a few of her videos from time to time, loving the way she moved. She had this way of letting you know she was sexy from the look she gave in the camera when it followed her body. It was as if she was daring you to touch her, let her throw it back on you and see if you can catch it.

——-

Damara finished off to her first song, bending over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She paused her music, picking up her water to take a long sip. After recapping it, Damara’s eyes sweep the area, landing on the door and seeing a familiar face waving at her. 

It was him, the big dick nigga that had her on a two day hiatus. He looked to be arriving at the gym because he didn’t look worn out just fresh with a bomber jacket over top of his workout gear, beats over his ears and shades on. 

“Mind if I come in?” He mouthed.

Damara caught her breath before smiling, motioning for him to enter. He finally stepped through, dropping the duffel bag that was on his shoulder.

“Why ain’t you tell me you were a dancer? You ain’t so average.” 

“It’s kind of hard to do that when you were balls deep in me.” She mouthed tiredly.

“You talk hella bold but when I’m in there I have you running though.” He removed his shades, blessing her with his brown eyes.

“Mind if I watch? I got all day.” Erik removed his jacket.

“Fine with me,” Damara was okay with it, she had eyes on her with dancing almost all the time.

“She plugged her phone into the wall Bluetooth, settling on dancing to some pussy popping music from her freaky playlist. Yes, this was absolutely purposeful.

Right off the back, Megan Thee Stallion Freak Nasty began playing. She started off with a routine she already had to this song. She poses, hands rubbing down her frame before squatting down with a grip on her knees while swaying her hips. She did a turn, one hand in her hair with the other on her ass. Once the beat dropped, she got into the groove with a sexy hip hop routine that involved a lot of footwork and ass shaking. Her ass shook alright, like a goddamn tidal wave straight from the sea. She bounced in a circle, spreading her legs wide before landing into a perfect split that deserved tens across the board like she was a gymnast. 

Erik was impressed, and so was the huge dick that jumped happily in his compression briefs. She was clearly giving it her all, impressing him. He could fuck her ass royally with his dick, congratulate her for the little talent show. She was on the floor again, doing a perfect side split, her eyes moving from the mirror and zeroing in on his erection. She must have known that he was turned on because her eyes didn’t move from his crotch the entire time she grind, bent her body over, and twerked her ass. 

“You think that pussy can handle this dick today?”

She stops moving, hyperventilating before pausing her music.

“Nah, keep that playlist rolling, I want you to dance on this dick.”

She looked at him. He looked at her. She whispered, “okay, I admit it. You’ve got too much dick for me.” 

“Girl,” He wasn’t trying to hear that.

“I’m serious, I need to be able to move not walk like a cripple.” 

“It’s a gift,” he smiles wide.

Damara walks over to the mirrored wall, holding onto the bar before stretching her leg all the way up to her head. 

“See, you preparing yourself already.”

Erik began to approach her, Damara bent over with her head between her legs, looking from behind. She could see Erik making his way to her, the feeling in her stomach making her nervous. Damara lifts back up, grabbing a towel to wipe her neck off. Here he was now, fully enveloped in her personal space with his hands on either side of the bar, chin resting on her shoulder.

“I mean, you really got that shit up there, huh?” He was referring to her leg.

She chuckles, “Chill out, monster.”

“Monster? Hm,” Erik turns Damara around, his eyes scanning her heaving chest, “Well, it is October.” 

She smiles, licking her lips before looking at his, “You plan on scaring me again?”

Erik takes his thumb to stroke her chin, “I thought you were afraid of big, bad things?”

Damara swallows spit, eyes fluttering. She grabbed the bar on either side to brace herself.

“You ain’t know? This is my favorite time of the year.”

Damara places her hands on the back of Erik’s head, pulling him down to meet her lips. They kissed, Erik’s hand on her hips now, pulling her off and against him. The next song that played was dvsn- With me.

“C’ mon,” Erik kisses her again, their full lips in French kiss mode, “dance on me.”

Damara takes her time to work her hips into the slow beat, Erik easily matching her movements. She was impressed, turning now, dipping forward with her ass against his crotch, twirling her hips in a hypnotizing circle. Erik places one arm across her chest, his face buried in her hair, Damara turning to face him slightly while she moved her hips tantalizingly slow against him. 

“Mm,” Erik looked her frame up and down.

Damara turns, on her knees, arching back before rolling her body forward, grabbing Erik’s legs as she began to rise while her hips moved from side to side. She went to her tip toes then, one leg cleanly rising to rest on his shoulder before she arched her back, jumping up for Erik to catch her. He does, twirling her around before slowing down as the song slowed, their eyes meeting. 

“Wow,” she spoke breathlessly.

Before she could stop herself, Damara places her lips against his, Erik bringing her to the floor. Between frantic kisses, Erik undressed her, her naked sweaty body warm against his. She moans, arms around his neck. Erik takes his fingers, slipping inside to get a feel and taste.

“You taste just right,” He sucks slowly on his fingers before taking those same fingers to rub her nipples. 

“Fuck,” Damara pushes Erik down to the floor, her hands moving quickly to undress him. She needed him no matter how big he was. The sight of him again almost knocked her out. Damara grabs his dick, licking her lips before sinking her mouth over him. Erik instantly palmed the back of her head, biting his lip and saying how much of a good girl she was.

Damara sucked like her life was at stake, spit covering her hands and chest. She couldn’t fit him all in her mouth but she did her absolute best. Erik pulls her mouth off, watching the string of spit connect with her lower lip.

“Climb up, Baby girl.” Erik motions for Damara to come to him, Her legs straddling him on either side before her arms grabbed his shoulders tightly. She tried to prepare herself but the moment Erik slipped inside again she squeezed his biceps with her nails. Erik hisses, taking his hands to grab at her waist to keep her still. He started fucking up into her at an even pace, the pressure within her too much. She could feel the shit in her spine. Damara looked back at it, eyes closing in sweet pleasure before looking down at Erik’s smiling face.

“God, please keep fucking me.”

Erik grabs her ass, anchoring his hips before picking up the pace. The scream from her was so loud it bounced off the walls. 

“These walls ain’t sound proof, Baby girl.” 

She couldn’t move or control her cries. Erik was deep within her guts. Damara begged for Erik to keep going over and over, a series of please and I need more escaping her mouth.

“You gonna squirt on me like that again?” He bit his lip, raising his brows in a rude manner to initiate a response from her, “I said is that what you’re gonna do?!” 

“Yes!!!!!”

Damara snapped, squirting like he asked. Erik slaps both her ass cheeks for that.

“Good girl, I know you got more for me.”

“Yes, Erik.” 

She froze, mouth suspended open before cumming again. Within seconds?

“FUCKkkkkk.” 

“Mhm,” he fucked up into her at the same killer pace, “mhm...mhm.”

“STOP!” She cries out, the urge to cum right there.

“Stop it, I’m gonna cum again!”

“Girl, shut up and cum.” 

Erik was close himself.

“Shut that crying up and cum on this dick.”

She went silent, body trembling before cumming for a third time.

“Oh my God,” she cries.

“You gonna let me cum in that mouth, Baby girl?”

Erik bounced Damara a few more times before slipping her off, standing to his feet quickly while she stayed on her knees. Damara opened wide, waiting for his treat. He jerked his big dick, grunts deep and eyes low and dangerous. After three pumps the cream spilled, Damara’s tongue ready. He tasted so damn good. 

“All of it, I’m not playing with you.”

She grabs his dick, licking and sucking all of it off.

“Good girl,” he puckered his lips down at her, mouthing a kiss. She almost fainted.

“You gonna have them thirsty bitches mad”

Damara didn’t care.

[kumiwrites]

a cold brew

A handsome stranger picks up the journal you forget at a café. His only intention is to return it to you, but he finds himself seeking out your company more and more as your lives intertwine.

Pairing: Pro Hero!Todoroki Shouto x University Student!Reader Genre: Fluff Words: 4107 Warning(s): None AO3 Link

A/N: This is my first finished BNHA fic! I love Shouto so dearly, he is such a pure bean, and I just indulged myself with this all day instead of doing work for my meeting. I hope you enjoyed!

            The first time you run into him is a coincidence.

            You’re in your third year of university. With that comes late nights studying at the library, and a lot of caffeine pumping through your veins most hours of the day. It’s late, and you really don’t expect anyone to come into the café ten minutes before closing for a cup of coffee.

            Heterochromatic eyes lock with yours, and you can’t help but smile at the handsome man that holds open the door for you as you’re leaving. You thank him as you pass, only stopping once you’re a few steps past the store to stare back at him for a moment. You’ve definitely seen that face before, with the distinctive half-white half-red hair, but you can’t quite place it.

            “Oh well,” you murmur to yourself, heading back to your apartment.

            Shouto places his usual coffee order, knowing he has a long night of paperwork to do. As he waits for the espresso machine to churn out his drink, he notices a black notebook on the table nearby and picks it up, flipping the cover open in an attempt to find the owner. A name and phone number are written at the bottom of the inside cover.

            “Someone named [Name] left their notebook,” he tells the barista, accepting the paper cup from them.

            “Ah, I think that’s the girl that just left. I’ve never seen her here before, though, so I don’t know if she’ll be back anytime soon…”

            Shouto nods, tucking the notebook under his arm. “I’ll return it to her, then.”

            “A-are you sure? We can just hold onto it and see if she returns—”

            “It’s okay.”

            The barista nods as she returns to wiping down the counter.

            “Have a good night,” Shouto says to her as he exits, glancing in the direction you had gone.

            Fresh out of the shower, you’re wringing out your wet hair with a towel when your phone buzzes from the counter. When you look, it’s from an unknown number.

            “Weird.”

unknown number, 9:37pm

I found your notebook at the café. I think I held the door for you when you left. When can I return it to you?

            You’re surprised by the text, and immediately go to your bag, rummaging through the contents before realizing that you did indeed leave your journal behind. God, you hope he doesn’t read any of it. 

[name], 9:42pm

Thank you!! I can’t believe I left it behind. Do you want to meet tomorrow morning? I’ll buy you a coffee as a thank-you.

             You sigh softly to yourself, hanging up the wet towel on a hook as you wait for your phone to buzz.

unknown number, 9:44pm

There’s a place near the station next to the café you were at today that has good cold brew. Do you want to meet at the station?

[name], 9:45pm

That sounds good. You have the half-white, half-red hair and pretty eyes, right? What’s your name?

             He’s caught off-guard by the comment about his ‘pretty eyes.’

unknown number, 9:46pm

Shouto.

[name], 9:46pm

Is 9am okay with you?

             He hums in thought for a moment. He has to be at the agency at eleven for a briefing, which gives him around two hours of extra time. A happy coincidence, he thinks.

shouto, 9:46pm

Yes. Have a good night.

            You’re surprisingly nervous, having spent an extra ten minutes fiddling with a piece of hair that refused to sit right on your head no matter what you did to it. You settle for twisting the hair back and clipping it in place with a barrette, not wanting to be late for your coffee… date? No, exchange. Drop-off. Deal. Not a date.

            Shouto isn’t expecting you to be so excited when you approach, waving at him enthusiastically. You’re wearing a pair of grey ankle pants with a white plaid pattern and a nice white blouse loosely tucked into the high waistband. Business casual, much like his own outfit.

            You clutch your canvas bag to your side as you come to a stop in front of Shouto. He’s in a black turtleneck with white vertical stripes and a pair of black chinos, rolled up at the ankle. The turtleneck makes his hair colours stand out. With one hand holding his phone, the other is at his side, your notebook in plain sight.

            “Thank you again, Shouto-san,” you say, bowing your head to him as he hands you the journal. You tuck it safely into your bag. “I’m really indebted to you.”

            “You would’ve done the same,” he replies. “The café is this way.” He begins walking in the direction opposite of the café from the night before, and you fall into step next to him. There are hushed stares and whispers from people as you walk by, and you can’t help but feel yourself want to curl up into a ball and roll away; you hate it when people stare.

            “There are a lot of people looking at you, Shouto-san,” you whisper to him, growing more confused as some are clearly itching to approach the two of you.

            He’s surprised you haven’t realized who he is at this point, but it’s a refreshing reaction. “I wonder why.”

            Your eyebrows furrow together, and you readjust your bag on your shoulder as the two of you reach the café. Shouto holds open the door for you.

            “You like their cold brew, right?” you ask, watching as he nods in confirmation. You turn to the cashier and order two, but as you’re reaching for your wallet, Shouto taps his credit card against the machine and ushers you along to the other end of the bar counter. You pout. “It was supposed to be my treat.”

            He gives you a small chuckle. It’s a cute expression on your face, and he’s surprised by how it makes his heart skip a small beat. “Don’t worry about it. I wanted to.”

            You’re still pouting when the barista hands you the two cups, and you withhold Shouto’s from him as you shuffle past him and to one of the empty tables by the window. He laughs softly to himself as he takes two of the paper straws from the holder and brings them to you, seating himself across from you.

            “Here,” he says, holding one out to you. You eye him suspiciously before accepting it and sliding him his drink. “Thank you.”

            “Thanks for the coffee,” you grumble, stabbing your cup in the opening with the straw and taking a sip. It’s a bitter flavour at first, but by the time you swallow the sip, it’s sweet on your palate with a subtle, floral aftertaste. “Wow, it is good.”

            He nods in agreement, his elbows propped against the table as he drinks. “I found this place one day while I was leaving work.” He especially likes how the baristas never really bat an eye at him, treating him just like everyone else. It’s hard to come by a place like this sometimes when his face is plastered on the news so often.

            It’s also hard to come by someone who doesn’t recognize him immediately.

            You hum softly, your chin resting in your hand as you shake your cup gently, the sound of ice jostling like music to your ears. “You work nearby then?”

            “At the end of the street.” He keeps it vague, but you don’t pry, which he also likes. “What about you, do you work?”

            You shake your head. “I’m in my third year of university. So lots of studying, but no job yet.”

            He nods; that puts you at around the same age as him. “What program?”

            You’re very forthcoming with information, and you delve into a small description of your program. It’s something you’ve dreamed of studying when you were a child, and you’re quite happy with where you are at the moment.

            Shouto likes the way your eyes light up when you’re passionate about something. It reminds him a little of Izuku, and how he essentially looks like a child in a toy store whenever he talks about something he loves.

            An hour and a half passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re surprisingly sad to hear that Shouto has to leave to attend a meeting in twenty minutes.

            “Do you have any plans for the day?” he asks as he pushes in his chair, holding his hand out for your empty cup.

            “I have a class at one, but I’m free after three.”

            He hums softly, dropping your cups into the recycling bin as you give the barista a wave and a soft ‘thanks’ before following him out of the shop. “Do you want to get dinner, then? I should be finished work at five.”

            You’re surprised by how forward he is, but you nod enthusiastically. A handsome stranger inviting you to dinner after a pleasant morning coffee? Sounds like something out of a romance novel.

            “Meet me here at five-thirty, then?” He gives it a thirty-minute buffer in case he’s running late.

            “That sounds perfect,” you say, visualizing the time blocks in your head. The next two hours gives you enough time to finish your work for today’s class, and the two hours after class is enough for you to get most of your readings for tomorrow’s class done. “See you tonight.”

            He smiles, giving you a small wave as he turns on his heel and strides down the street.

            You’re on cloud nine.

            Thank god for lecture recordings, because you haven’t been able to process a single word of your class. You’ve been thinking about Shouto all day, and you honestly feel like a school girl with a stupid crush. That’s okay with you, though; even if it doesn’t go in the direction of a flourishing romance, you know you and Shouto will remain friends. You can feel it in your gut.

            You’re waiting in the same café as this morning, your second cup of coffee sitting empty next to you as you work through a hefty reading for tomorrow’s class. Your eyes are glazing over a little, so you decide to people watch for a bit. It’s good timing on your part, because Shouto walks by the window at that very moment. He locks eyes with you, and you let out a laugh as you wave to him.

            “You’re early,” you say as he sits down across from you.

            “So are you,” he replies, smiling as you put down your pen. “I wasn’t sure if I’d finish on time, but I ended up getting everything done early. I was just going to get a coffee and wait for you.”

            You nod, turning your paper back to the front page and tucking it into the plastic folder you use for your readings. “I was doing the same.”

            After you push your chair in, Shouto holds out a hand to you, and you give him a questioning look.

            “I’ll hold your things,” he says, motioning to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder with all of your school supplies.

            “O-oh, that’s okay,” you reply, surprised. “It’s not that heavy.”

            “All the more reason,” he says, smiling as your cheeks flush and you reluctantly hand him the bag. He secures it over his shoulder, motioning for you to lead the way as you exit the café once again.

            The bag somehow completes his look, and you can’t help admiring how nice it looks on him.

            “Do you like soba?”

            The question surprises you, but you nod. “I do.”

            His face lights up like a Christmas tree. “There’s a noodle place nearby that does a delicious cold soba, do you want to go there?”

            You nod again, smiling as he begins leading the way, excitement clearly making him walk faster than normal.

            Coffee dates and dinners with Shouto become a regular occurrence over the next four weeks. He walks you home after every dinner, and it’s gotten to a point where you’re comfortable enough with one another that you’ve both dropped the honorific.

            It’s nice knowing there’s someone who wants to spend time with you at the end of a busy workday.

            There’s a knock on your door, and you try to smooth out your hair one last time before rubbing your hands on your thighs and opening the door. Shouto is on the other side, a bag of groceries in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

            “Special delivery,” he says, and you can’t help but smile from ear-to-ear as he steps inside and kicks off his shoes. He takes a moment to admire you; you’re wearing a simple dress, loose and flowy, leaving your shoulders bare. He likes it on you.

            “My hero,” you feign a swoon. Shouto laughs, and you grin as you take the bottle of wine from him and set it on your kitchen island.

            “Your apartment is very nice, [Name].”

            You hum, giving him a moment to take everything in and look around. “Thank you, I had a lot of fun decorating it.”

            Shouto had asked you this morning if you wanted to get dinner again tonight, but you had countered with an offer of cooking with him, to ease up some of the strain on both your wallets. You’ve taken turns treating each other, which has been a refreshing change of pace from lazily thrown-together foods that you can barely call meals.

            “Are we making soba?” you tease, peering over his shoulder as he begins unpacking the bag of groceries. You left the menu up to him, and as soon as you had given him the power, he eagerly began asking about any allergies and what foods you like.

            He shakes his head, gently flicking your forehead as he folds up the plastic bag and hands it to you. “No, we’re making your favourite.”

            The bag of pasta and accompanying ingredients for your favourite sauce, placed unceremoniously on your kitchen island, make you clap your hands together in excitement. He bought everything for your favourite pasta dish. “Really?”

            He places his hands on your shoulders and guides you to the kitchen sink, motioning for you to wash your hands. “Really.”

            Shouto is surprisingly competent in the kitchen; his knifework is what impresses you most, as you watch him dice onions in such uniform pieces that you’re a little awestruck (part of that may also be because his sleeves are rolled up to his bicep, which leaves you with a nice view of his muscular arms). Your knifework is sloppy at best, with little care for how the pieces look as long as they’re somewhat similar.

            The onion doesn’t bother you much, considering you’re just watching him from the side, but clearly the knife isn’t sharp enough because Shouto’s eyes are tearing up from the fumes. You laugh softly, leaning into him and gently wiping away one of the stray tears that start to trail down his cheek.

            “Stupid onion,” he grumbles, collecting the diced onions into a clean bowl as you nudge him to the side so you can mince the garlic.

            You can’t help but think that he’s adorable. But your favourite part of all of this is that he has one of your favourite aprons on, and you wonder how many people can say Todoroki Shouto has worn their apron and cooked food with them.

            “Can you boil water for the pasta?” you ask, grinning as he’s washing his hands. “The pot is in the bottom drawer next to you.”

            You hear the pots clamoring against one another as he pulls it out and fills it up with water. The two of you move comfortably with each other, and you’re surprised by how well the first meal you’re cooking together is going.

            “I’ll make the sauce,” Shouto tells you, holding his hand out for the spatula in your hand.

            “Are you sure you can handle the responsibility?”

            He huffs, poking you in the cheek as he takes it from you. “Go sit down.”

            “No, I want to finish it with you,” you mumble, unhappy with his sudden desire to take charge.

            “Go sit,” he repeats. He sets the spatula down and spins you around, hands on your waist as he pushes you to one of the stools on the other side of your kitchen island. “I want to finish it for you.”

            The feeling of his hands around your sides makes you blush a little, which sends you into a quiet submission as you listen to the suddenly bossy man. You rest your cheek against your crossed arms and watch as he begins cooking the sauce, his broad back turned to you.

            Next thing you know, Shouto is setting a plate down in front of you, dusted with grated parmesan on top as he wipes down the counter and places his plate next to you. He unties the apron and folds it neatly, setting it down next to the sink as he grabs two forks and takes his seat next to you.

            “Thank you, Shouto,” you say, smiling as his leg brushes yours when he scoots his seat closer to you. “It looks amazing.”

            “Hopefully it tastes good, too,” he chuckles. He watches as you take the first bite, and your face melts into an expression of delight. It makes him smile.

            “Yummy,” you confirm to him, eyes closed as you hold the fork between your lips for a moment before setting it down next to your place. “It’s perfection.”

            Shouto takes a bite and confirms your critique: it tastes really good. Maybe it’s because he’s cooking for you.

            The plates are cleaned off in record time, and you hum in satisfaction as you turn to Shouto, your knee pressing into his leg. “So, so good. One of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.”

            “You’re exaggerating,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed by your high praise.

            You shake your head. “I’m not, I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in a while. I just never have time to put it together for the most part.”

            He knows he’s blushing, and he averts his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll cook more often for you, then.”

            Your face lights up. “Wait, I have a dessert for us,” you tell him, hand resting against his thigh for a moment as you hop off the stool and pull two ramekins out of the fridge. “I made crème brûlée earlier!”

            Shouto’s surprised, to say the least. The two of you didn’t really give yourselves much time to plan the night out, so he wasn’t expecting anything else other than what he wanted to cook for you. He watches as you pull out a blowtorch and the granulated sugar, spooning enough to cover the entire surface of each ramekin before lighting up the flame. The sugar caramelizes quickly, and he finds himself mesmerized by the intense concentration on your face.

            In less than five minutes, you set out two perfectly torched desserts, complete with small silver dessert spoons, and Shouto is excited. He hasn’t had crème brûlée in quite a while.

            This time, it’s your turn to watch as he takes the first bite, and when he nods in approval, you clap your hands together. “You like it?”

            “It’s so good,” Shouto murmurs, taking a second bite. The ramekin is cleaned out in the blink of an eye, and he finds himself wanting more.

            “You can take some home,” you tell him, taking his dirty dishes to the sink and soaking them in warm water and soap. “I made quite a bit.”

            He hums in approval.

            “Do you want to watch a movie? We can finish the wine and just relax for a bit before you have to go.”

            He really doesn’t want to go.

            You set the wine glasses down on your coffee table, the half-full wine bottle next to them as you turn the T.V. on. “What are you in the mood for?”

            “Anything you want to watch,” he tells you. Shouto is standing at the sink, and he begins washing the dishes, despite your protests. You pout, scrolling through the options available for you to stream as Shouto pats his hands dry and makes his way to sit next to you on the sofa.

            You decide on a psychological thriller about a serial killer and settle into your seat as you tuck your legs beneath you.

            Shouto gets comfortable as well. He finds that he's very tempted to put his arm around your shoulder, but he stops himself for now, settling for the back of the sofa instead.

            The wine is slowly finished and you’re completely enthralled by the movie, but he can’t stop watching you from the corner of his eye. The inner struggle continues for a bit, until the part of his brain yelling at him to just do it wins out.

            His arm drops from the sofa to your shoulders, and you smile a little to yourself as you scoot closer to him, your leg pressing against his as you settle into your new position, as if it he does it all the time and it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

            When the movie ends, you groan from having been in the same seat for so long. You stretch your arms in front of you before collapsing onto his lap, your face turned so you can look at him.

            “That was a good movie,” you say softly, pushing your now-messy hair out of the way so you can see him clearly.

            “It was,” he confirms, his fingers brushing the remaining strands out of your face.

            You bury your face into his side for a moment before sitting up, turning to watch him for a moment. “Thanks for spending so much time with me, Shouto.”

            You always find new ways to catch him off guard. After nearly a month, you still surprise him. “I should be thanking you, [Name].” Finding out what he does for a living hasn’t changed anything about your friendship, aside from the initial shock and subsequent occasions where you call him after a major case and ensure he’s safe and out of harm’s way. “The past few weeks have been amazing.”

            You smile, your hand resting over his thigh as he leans towards you, brushing back your hair from your neck. His hand presses against the bare skin, and you can feel the goosebumps on your arms. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as his forehead gently rests against yours, his hair tickling you.

            “Can I kiss you, [Name]?”

            You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your heart is pounding so unbearably loudly in your ears, and your breath catches in your throat with the way he’s looking at you.

            When his lips meet yours, his fingers tangle in your hair, and his other hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. You press your hand against the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips move against his.

            “Shouto,” you whisper, your face flushed as you pull away for a moment.

            “I’m going to kiss you again,” he says softly, and sure enough, his lips crash against yours. He gently lowers you onto your back, one knee propping him up over you as the other presses between your legs. Your hair, splayed across the white suede of your sofa, makes Shouto want to see what it looks like when he dishevels it. His kisses trail from your lips to your neck, and you let out soft breaths as he marks the tender skin. When he pulls away, he’s satisfied with the bruises he’s left.

            “Shouto,” you gasp, and he presses another kiss to your lips in response.

            “Yes, [Name]?”

            You take a moment , your eyes darting from his eyes to his swollen lips and back to his eyes. “Shouto, I…” you pause, but the look in his eye urges you to finish your sentiment. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” you whisper, fingers tangling in his hair as he watches you with soft eyes.

            His heart clenches, and he lets out a soft sigh as he kisses you again, taking your breath away. “You are?”

            You nod, tears threatening to pool in your eyes. You’ve never seen the look in his eyes before.

            Shouto smiles—a genuine, heartwarming smile—and he presses his lips to the shell of your ear, his breath tickling you. His voice is so gentle, so tender, as he whispers, “Good. Because I’m falling for you, too.”

[deathonyourtongue]

Sanguine Nocturnus | 2

Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 3K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : Couldn’t leave y’all hanging a week without meeting our main character, now could I?

It was rare that he woke to an empty bed. Rarer still that he woke feeling as though every cell in his body was vibrating. Checking the time on his phone, he sat upright and looked around, keen eyes searching the pitch-black room for any sign of his previous night’s companion. His two dobermans, Phobos and Deimos, marked the spot, the dogs framing the corpse of last night’s entertainment. She’d been a pretty thing, fresh into her 20’s, and still so naive that she’d hung on every word he’d whispered in her ear. 

At least she didn’t die a virgin.

Bending down, he picked her up easily, slinging her over one shoulder as he made his way to the cold room. Too restless to take care of her immediately, he slipped her into one of the five drawers built into the wall and locked the room behind him. By the time he made it back upstairs to shower and dress, her face was already a half-forgotten memory in his mind.

Deciding on an all-black ensemble with a ruby-toned, velvet brocade waistcoat, he showered, dressed and stepped onto the wet cobbles of Rome’s quiet streets, still feeling as though electricity was coursing through him. The moon hung over the Pantheon, looming and casting a reddish glow on all below it.

Feeling none of the restless energy dissipate despite the fresh air, he turned in the direction of the Vatican, needing to take the edge off.

He’d been a customer of the club for years; ever since it opened in fact. Over the thirty years Romulus had been serving the public, the staff had come and gone, but thankfully the owner had stayed the same. Nodding to the man as he came in, the owner automatically motioned for the bartender to set up his drink, knowing his most loyal patron only ever drank one thing; Sanguinem. A blend of wine and other, more secretive ingredients, it was the oldest drink the owner ever kept in stock. The owner had tried it once or twice, always wincing when the metallic taste hit his tongue, always confused by the popularity of the drink among many of his patrons. 

 He sighed as he took a seat at the bar, his blue eyes gazing up at the artwork that adorned the walls. Seldom seen when the club was in full swing, the paintings were recreations of those who had encountered a brutal end. Everyone from Marie Antoinette to Kurt Cobain lined the walls, their images altered to show them post-mortem. Sometimes gruesome and always detailed, each painting was a one-of-one, and if times ever got tough, an easy sell to a discerning collector. 

As the name suggested, Romulus’ atmosphere evoked the age and bloody history of the city it called home. Dim lights, chaise lounges, and arched stone ceilings all lent to the feeling like one were in the catacombs beneath the city. Most nights, the place was flooded with red neon, the gleam of the lights off the dance floor emanating to every other corner of the establishment.

For a Saturday night, the place was oddly vacant, until he remembered that tonight was All Souls’ Day and most of Italy was either in church or in their homes, celebrating the holiday. He had never had much respect for religion, especially Catholicism; as far back as he could remember, the church had been the instigator of more deaths than any other group in the world.

“They can all go fuck themselves,” the patron muttered under his breath before taking his first swig, the bartender giving him a look as though the drinker had just murdered his mother. The owner smiled, knowing the man was referring not to the employees of the club, but to the religious fanatics that kept most of the country in church on a night like this.

“Non è cattolico.” The owner told the bartender, explaining the man’s religious views to the slightly offended man, who nodded in understanding as he connected the cussing to the holiday.

“Non cattolico a tutto.” The patron agreed, his tone low and sharp, his accent different than that of his fellow countrymen.

“Thank you for the drink, old friend.” The man said as he took his final sip, standing to his full height before extending his hand to the owner who shook it happily, his smile filled with the usual wonder that came across his face whenever he observed his patron up close. Although years went by and the world changed, his loyal customer never seemed to age a day. 

No money was ever exchanged, the owner having long ago gifted his patron with a lifetime supply of Sanguinem in exchange for a certain…favor he’d needed done. 

Herminius Calvisius, Henry as he was known these days, had indeed done a few favours for a select few in Italy over the years. Personally, he adored when said favours had to do with the Vatican, for he loved the food there; if you could call it that. 

Food for Henry was not exactly appetizing fare for most others he resembled. Henry's idea of a meal usually consisted of a glass of Merlot followed by a pretty young thing looking for a good time around one of the dark alleys surrounding Vatican City at midnight. He never failed to get a laugh out of the shock that came from the Swiss Guard when they would find the woman the next morning, pale as St. Peter's Basilica, with the exception of two gentle circles in her throat.

 Yes, he was un vampiro, as they liked to call him; a vampire.

Tonight however, the meals would be scarce, and since he was quite selective of his dinner—despite favouring the occasional streetwalker—Henry found his feet guiding him towards one of the few places where blood was a commodity.

Located just outside the Porta Settimiana, the old villa was vast, and most found it disturbing, in a way they simply couldn’t define. It made the hairs on their arms stand, and quickened their step, but if one were to ask, not a single soul could say why they avoided the piece of history. 

To Henry, it was like gazing on the picture of heaven. 

It was the first place he had deemed worthy enough to call home after he became immortal, and it had yet to lose its value in his eyes. Prying open the gate, which badly needed oiling, Henry smiled as he saw Brutus stand from the front door to greet him.

“Hello, boy. It’s been ages, has it not?” He greeted as he pet the mastiff that eagerly sniffed him for bones.

“None today, boy, my apologies.” Henry’s lips turned downwards at the same time as the dog’s, both spending a few more silent moments together before the large black door of the Italianate house was opened.

Had a human have witnessed the action, their blood would have run cold, for like many of the other houses of the period, the front door of this one was unbelievably heavy, usually taking the strength of two men to open. The hand that gripped it however, was delicate, manicured and thin; precisely the hand belonging to the woman he had come to see.

“Lucrezia, my love, hello.” Truly, being in her presence over the years had provided Henry with a great many memories, and fond ones at that, something which was scant for one such as himself.

“Hello, my little hermit.” She smiled. Others in the Roman coven had always called her grin wicked, but to him, it was beautiful and warm; one of the few smiles that had ever pervaded his dreams, turning nightmares into impish fairy tales.

Lucrezia, as her name would suggest, was also Italian, and although younger than him, she had seen the days when Rome ruled the earth—or what was known of it at the time. She had seen several Caesars come and go, and had been just outside the senate when Julius himself had met his end at the tip of Brutus’ blade.

Her hematite locks descended past her shoulders in loose waves, only serving to accentuate impeccable bone structure, a creamy complexion, and burgundy lips she methodically painted every time she awoke. Henry could tell she was feeling dramatic today, as she was wearing an old Roman gown, given to her by a courtier during the reign of Octavian.

“What’s the occasion, Lucy?” Smiling at the intended reaction he got at the nickname, he did not hesitate to kiss her cheek in pardon.

“I do hate it when you call me that, Henry; Makes me sound like a child.”

Indeed to any onlooker, she might be confused for one, Lucrezia having been made an immortal at the tender age of twenty. He did not know her then, but news of her beauty spread quickly among the covens of the Empire, her likeness drawn on both papyrus and walls alike, so that any who felt the need could gaze upon her visage. Henry smiled, remembering how the portraits did her little justice when he finally gazed upon her in the flesh.

“If you must know however, I had company over just an hour ago, and there’s some very exciting news coming from the coven.”

“Will I have to be there?” Henry rolled his eyes, knowing that any news from the coven could only be one of two things; either there was to be a new celebration, or one of the elders had gone to ground and a new one had been chosen to take his place.

“Hush. I haven’t even told you the news yet. Marius was lovely enough to come and keep me company tonight on such a dreadful holiday, and since he had just been to the house, he was brimming with new gossip that I just had to hear. Apparently, Cassius has decided to sleep, and a new elder will be taking his place. According to Marius, this one is…different.”

“Different how?” Henry asked, his interest piqued despite his detestation for any and all gossip to come out of the coven he had so long ago abandoned in favour of a life less formal.

“Well, first off he’s apparently quite…awe striking, fear-inducing, etcetera. A real Roman sculpture is how Marius described him. And secondly, he’s of the…Greek persuasion, if you will.”

Her grin became even more deviant as the two headed inside towards the parlor, Lucrezia immediately pulling a decanter off a small flame and pouring two glasses of blood so good, the scent alone was enough to make Henry’s head spin.

“A boy lover?” He asked, looking curiously at his companion. It was not uncommon for those of his kind to frolic with their own sex, but among the elders and those next in line, it was a rarity, simply because it was a public imbalance among the sexes of the coven and their kind liked nothing more than to appear egalitarian.

“MAN lover, actually. If Marius was looking at the right man, then apparently our next elder has already found a companion in Fares.” Henry raised his eyebrows, indifferent to the news.

“Where do you find them?” He asked, tipping his glass in reference to the fine liquid he soon after began pouring down his throat.

“Oh, you know…The old money, the papacy, the brothels, the usual.” They shared a laugh, both knowing that no matter what a person’s station in life, their blood did little to hide their history.

“Well, my dear, for someone as young as you, you have fine taste.” And with that, he took a full drink, feeling his body reconstitute in seconds.

“Back to this fledgling, my love, and pay attention. The ceremony is taking place two nights from now, at the house, and yes, you must attend.”

Henry tried to hide his annoyance at the fact that despite severing ties to the house, he was still required to go to such frivolous functions, for the sake of tradition alone. For all he knew, the fledgling was already in power, probably getting the youngest members of the house to do his dirty work for him. 

Above all though, he felt bitter that despite his lack of connection, he had yet again been passed over as elder of the coven. It was not as if he were the youngest of vampires. Over 2,000 years old and plenty educated in the ways of the coven, Henry found it an insult to be passed over time after time; it was one of the many reasons he’d separated himself from their ancient ways. 

“How old is this boy lover and what’s his name?” Henry asked, feigning interest for Lucrezia’s sake, only mildly interested in knowing whether this new elder was an acquaintance or not.

“He is a 26, and his name is...Gab-No! Gregory, from what Marius could gather. Do you know him?”

“Is he Italian?” Henry asked, knowing that the chances of this man being familiar to him would increase tenfold if he was of Roman descent.

“When have you known the elders to ever pick a foreigner as the next in line? Of course he’s Italian.” Lucrezia laughed, thinking Henry foolish for even entertaining the notion.

“Well, there was the time when we put in a Frenchman, temporarily. That didn’t go over too well though.” He reminded her, every member of the coven all too eager to forget that one particular mistake in their history.

“And you said he was my 26? As in, older than me?”

“No. 26, as in he was born yesterday,” Lucrezia’s eyes went wide, her gaze speaking volumes to Henry as she took a sip from her chalice. He, like her, was scandalized that they’d pick someone so young to their ways to be the next leading elder.  

Licking his lips, he tried to remember all the faces he had come across in the last three decades, linking each to a name and finding that none of them matched the one he’d been given.

“Unless my memory deceives me, or he has changed his name, I do not know him.”

“Pity, for I was hoping you’d introduce me.” Lucrezia grinned, a single line of blood falling from the corner of her lips, making her indeed look like a celluloid vampire.

Finishing off her chalice, Lucrezia’s blue-green eyes turned to the night beyond her window, Henry smiling as he sensed where the night would go.

“Everyone’s tripping over themselves, naturally; either in love with his youth and beauty, or wanting to maim Cassius for choosing a fledgling who hasn’t even weaned yet, as far as Marius could tell.”

“It’s little wonder Cassius decreed you--” Lucrezia stopped short, her eyes traveling up and over the lip of her chalice, a devilish smirk exposing her fangs as she waited for Henry’s reaction.

“Decreed me to what, Lucy?” Henry asked with a warning tone, one eyebrow raising as he waited for her to spill the rest of the gossip she’d received second-hand.

“Decreed that you will be his tutor in all things...Vampiric.” Her delicate fingers slipped through the air, creating a ballet all their own and momentarily distracting Henry from his own ire.

“He has no power to do so! Lucrezia, tell me this is another one of your humorless jests!” He finally barked, teeth bared as he stood and began to pace around the room.

“I’m afraid not, my darling. If Marius was correct, the decree came with an ultimatum as well. Come to heel, or…” 

“That pompous bastard. He knows full well what he does. I knew it would be another century of trouble once he rose. Had to get one last kick to the teeth in. I swear, if this is still because I told him his mother was a beautiful as a donkey’s prick, I will have his head while he SLEEPS!”

“Easy, Centurion. It’s generally frowned upon to decapitate an elder nowadays. Come, let us slake your lust elsewhere. I ordered in.” Her smile turned even more secretive as she rang a bell next to the snifter, Lucrezia’s gentle hands pressing Henry towards the area of the parlor that she’d long ago turned into something more closely resembling an Andaruni. 

Slipping her hands into the collar of his jacket, Lucrezia helped Henry undress before allowing him to do the same to her, the sweet tone of her giggle as she spun out of her dress completely dissipating any of the lingering anger Henry felt. When they were both nude and relaxed among the many cushions that separated them from the floor, Lucrezia’s day man sent in a feast. 

“Twins! Lucy, you’ve outdone yourself.” Henry’s eyebrow raised for a very different reason as both he and Lucrezia opened their arms for the two young blondes who had been ushered in, bare, and more than a little tipsy if their footsteps were anything to go by. 

“What did you give them tonight?” Henry questioned with a chuckle, reaching up and catching one of the girls before she could crash headlong into the low table that held a variety of accoutrements for pre and post-dinner. Undeterred, the woman found her way easily into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she did a sloppy grind of her hips against his hardening shaft.

“Just the usual. Bit of Absinthe, touch of Laudanum for the nerves.”

“I owe you dinner.” Henry smiled as he sank into the girl in his arms, watching as she arched back instinctively against the exquisite pleasure he provided.

Moans filled the air before a deathly silence blanketed the villa, two more souls joining the countless others being prayed for on that sacred night.

[slashersthings]

I'll Make You Scream / Billy Loomis x Reader

It was a chilly fall night, with colorful leaves whirling through the sky and landing every which way, even crunching under your boots as you took a brisk walk through the neighborhood.

The sun was setting in the distance and your mother's calm warning about not staying out too late was still ringing inside your head, but you shrugged it off and kept heading further and further out of your quiet suburban neighborhood.

You knew your mother had a slightly good reason for why she didn't want you out late, especially when Halloween was fast approaching, but the real reason being that a ring of murders and break-ins were happening in nearby neighborhoods and rumors were spreading that the killer - or killers, would hit up the neighborhood you lived in soon.

You weren't worried. Not to say that it didn't freak you out, it did, but the chances of your house getting broken into were slim. But the murders were the talk of the town and you couldn't go anywhere, not even school, without hearing about it.

You stop suddenly when the clear sound of twigs and leaves being stepped on inside an acreage of dark woods across from you seems to follow your path. Feeling a rush of bravery, you turn to face the ominous-looking woods, hollering out a, "Hello?"

Woods go silent after that. You laugh at your ridiculous behavior and spin back to the road, the laughter dying off your lips when you spot a figure twenty feet away.

Your gasp is the only noise heard from the quiet street. The figure's head tilts as whoever it was stares menacingly at you, hand gripping something at its side. "Who are you?" You wanted that to come out as confident and seem like you weren't scared, but instead, your voice shook and trembled.

The figure takes a step closer, you take two steps back. "What'd you want?"

When the figure moves under a well-placed street light, you see that the person wore a black cloak of some sort, and had a white ghost-like mask with the mouth dropped open. The thing they clutched in their gloved hand was a large hunting knife, blood dripping from the tip of it.

You were face-to-face with the infamous killer, who'd been harassing and killing people in your town and had no way of getting out of this alive. You start walking backward, causing the killer to follow you slowly.

"Please, please, don't do this. I won't tell anyone I saw you. Please." Your pleas are cut short when a flash of headlights appear behind you, followed by a loud honk. You quickly spin and rush to the car, arms flailing about.

The driver unlocks the passenger's door and you don't hesitate to hop in. "What the hell's going on?"

You look at the driver, an older man with grey hair, and exclaim, "Someone's trying to kill me!"

The man's eyes widen slightly and look up through the windshield, finding nothing but an empty street. "There's no one out there."

You stare at the vacant road for a minute, eyes furrowing at the unbelievable sight. "Yes, there was! I saw someone holding a bloody knife and, oh my God, you saved my life. If you hadn't shown up, I'd be dead."

The man sighs and puts the car in drive, "Tell me your address and I'll take you home. You shouldn't be out here by yourself anyway."

You nod and give your address, leaning against the seat with a heavy sigh.

--

At school the next morning, last night's horrifying events still plagued your mind, refusing to let go. You had a run-in with the town's serial killer and made it out unscathed.

You didn't tell your parents about it. Nor did you mention a word to your friends. You figured your parents would make a big deal with this, and your friends would joke around and wanna return to the location, hoping to see the killer for themselves.

As far as you were concerned, you just wanted to forget the entire thing and go about your life, ignoring that fateful night where you found a serial killer.

...But your friends had other ideas. "Did you see the news? The killer struck again."

You overhear some of your friends talking about the murders near your locker and sigh at the inevitable conversation. "Where'd it happen this time?"

"Out near Oak Ridge, that street that leads into those woods."

Your stomach flutters with fear at the news. "Apparently he killed a couple that was taking a walk in the neighborhood."

"How'd you know it's a man?" Your close friend asks the guy who was going on and on about it.

"Aren't most serial killers male?"

"Not necessarily. There have been quite a few female ones."

You felt sick at the conversation and quietly open your locker. "Hey, Y/N."

You look up at the sound of your name and find Billy Loomis staring at you with a smile. He stood beside Stu and your two other close friends, who were too caught up in their talk to notice you.

"Hi. I see this killer's still the talk of the school."

"Who isn't talking about it?" One guy, Morgan, interjects, glancing at you with confused eyes, "It's all over the news."

"Don't you guys think it's kinda starting to get repetitive? I mean, this person, whoever they are, breaks into a house, kills the people inside, then gets away without ever leaving a clue. Then the media shitstorm starts all over again, probably blowing it out of proportion."

You wanted to seem indifferent to the killer and show no interest in the subject. "You act as if this is all boring to you."

You give a dismissive shrug, "It's all the same, really."

Stu's eyes narrow at you, "The killer isn't boring. I mean, you can seriously stand there and pretend that if you ever came face-to-face with him, somewhere dark and alone, that you wouldn't be freaking the fuck out? He gutted that couple like a fish, heard their pitiful screams that begged him to stop, blood everywhere, but had no remorse."

You suppress a shiver as dread twists like a knife in your gut. "Whaddya think he'd do to you if you were all alone?"

Bile rises in the back of your throat and with a slam of your locker, you hurry to the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of your upset stomach, with last night's events and Stu's chilling question becoming more than you could handle.

--

You tried to put Stu's upsetting words, along with the memory of last night, out of your frazzled mind, but it kept sticking. The way Stu said it, how he stared at you, something felt off.

Why would he single you out as being alone by yourself somewhere dark? You hadn't mentioned a peep about last night to anyone, certainly not to Stu, but he almost in a way, had managed to describe what happened last night.

He even seemed offended that you showed no interest in the killer, which seemed strange to you. Sure, Stu was into those things, but it just seemed weird.

You're pulled out of your reverie by a finger tapping your shoulder, making you look up from your history book and glance behind. Billy, once again, stared at you, this time with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry for what happened earlier with Stu."

You shrug, "It's not your fault. I'm just kinda tired of hearing about this killer."

"But Stu shouldn't have said what he said. He upset you and I'm sorry. Stu sometimes can just be... you know?"

You nod with a chuckle, "Yep. I'm well aware of how he is."

"Mr. Loomis." Your history teacher, Mr. Henny, calls out his name with a disgruntled sigh, "Care to pay attention to your book instead of Y/N?"

A few snide remarks and giggles are heard, but you ignore them and turn back to your desk. You're surprised when a few seconds later, you feel another tap on your shoulder.

You can't help the smile tugging at your lips as you turn to Billy once more, "Your gonna get in trouble."

"You're worth it." Your cheeks turn a pretty pink color at that. "You doing anything tonight?"

Your heart races at the thought that Billy Loomis was asking you to come over and hang out one-on-one with him. "I'm babysitting a neighbor's kid until nine-thirty. Then after that, my schedule's wide open. Why?"

"Just wanted to see if you were free to watch a movie or something at my place. There's a Halloween marathon on TV tonight, so I thought we could hang and watch it."

"For sure. I'll head over around ten."

"Cool. I'll see ya then."

You smile brightly and turn back to your book, mind racing with ideas for tonight.

--

10:00 PM

You check your watch for the fiftieth time that night. Why were you so damn nervous? It wasn't like this was the first time you'd been at Billy's house. It was more like the third or fourth time.

The other ones had been with your friends and when Billy threw a party, this time was just you two. One-on-one. No one to interrupt or drag Billy's attention away.

Maybe that's why you were so nervous. You take a deep breath before pushing the car door open and stepping out. A few more steps forward and you reach the front door, shakey hand reaching out to knock.

It takes a few seconds before the door creaks open, revealing Billy's smiling face behind it. "Hey."

"...Hi." Jesus. You were acting as you've never been around a guy before. You were getting flustered just by seeing him and saying hi.

"You wanna come in... or...?"

You realize that you'd just been standing there like a moron while Billy held the door open and mentally curse yourself out. "Oh. Yeah. Heh, that's a good idea." You say and slip inside, brushing past Billy as you go. The slam of the door gets your heart racing, as does Billy sliding his hand down your back.

"Halloween's about to start. You want something to drink?"

All you can do is nod as the will to speak leaves you. "There's some popcorn in the cupboard above the fridge. I figured we could have some with the movie."

"Part of me thought Stu would be joining us." You say while following Billy into the kitchen, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

"Eh. I thought you and I could hang out for a night. We don't spend a lot of time together outside of parties or school."

"I never realized you wanted to."

Billy stops at the fridge, glancing back at you over his shoulder, "Why not? We are friends after all."

Friends. You frown at the title, but quickly cover with a shrug and laugh, "I guess I'm just a little... I don't even know."

"Well, I got just the thing to make you feel better."

He turns and waggles two bottles of beer in front of you. "Aren't you a Godsend."

He chuckles and tosses you one, "I can get the popcorn if you wanna go relax."

"Don't have to tell me twice." You say and follow the path into his living room.

--

Two hours later and the first Halloween was over, making you look at the time and sigh. The night had been like a dream you didn't wanna wake up from.

Billy looks over and sees you dejectedly staring at the clock on the wall. "You gotta get going or something?"

 "Eh, yeah, I probably should. My parents will flip if I'm not back."

"Oh, well, I was hoping you'd stay a little longer. The night was just getting fun."

His dark eyes staring into your own was enough to convince you that staying there was the right choice, especially when he leans a little closer, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Then again, Halloween two's about to come on." You shrug and lean against the cushion.

"And I wouldn't want you going home alone this late with a killer running around."

For the first time tonight, you recall last night's events with a heavy sigh. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, no. It's not you, it's just..." You swallow hard and look down, "I haven't told my parents or anything, but, I saw the killer last night."

Billy quirks a brow but didn't seem too surprised by what you said. You expected him to freak with worry, but no. He just sits up with a shrug. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. There was this old man who showed up at just the right time. I couldn't stop thanking him for saving my life."

"You didn't tell anyone, did you? Like the cops or something?"

Your brows furrow while your heart grows uneasy by Billy's strange interest in wanting to know if you spilled last night's horror to the cops. "Why?"

"Just tell me, Y/N!"

His eyes grow wide and worried, obviously not for you, but some reason. "No. You are the only one I told, Billy, no one else."

He takes a breather, eyes softening on you, "Where'd you see him?"

"Near Oak Ridge. By the woods."

Billy tilts his head and you push away the gnawing feeling that it looked suspiciously familiar. "Weird he didn't take the opportunity when you were alone. They don't hesitate with the other victims."

They?"

"I, uh, I meant, he. Or whoever it is." He pushes his hair back and turns his attention to the TV. Michael Myers had just finished killing another teenager and was heading outside, easily avoiding the police and Dr. Loomis.

A commercial break restarts the awkward silence and you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You feel eyes on you and look over, finding Billy already staring back.

"Billy..." You say his name softly as he inches closer, eyes glancing at your lips. His lips brush against yours, the delicacy taking you by surprise. Your arms come around his neck while he urges you closer, nearly pulling you onto his eager lap.

Even though you were already touching, Billy wanted you closer, needed to feel more of your heated body pressed against his. Your mouths mash together, tongues tangling for dominance, as he slides one hand under your leg, pulling you fully on his lap.

He uses the position to rake his fingers up your bare thighs, the short skirt you wore revealing more skin than you realized, making you gasp when his fingers dip under the band of your panties.

Your legs part for his touch, writhing against his lap, begging for it like never before. He pulls his hands away to tear off your shirt, not bothering with the buttons, tossing it to the floor with a smirk.

Your quickly flopped on your back under him, followed by Billy wrapping your legs around his hips. He rocks against you once, then twice, your moan being followed by his own groan.

Your just starting to come undone when a slam of the front door, followed by a female scream on the TV, has you yelping and banging your head against Billy's, causing a muffled stir of curses and hissing.

"Argh, shit," Billy murmurs and pushes back slightly, rubbing at his sore head.

You lean up, eyes widening when you spot Stu standing in the entryway, arms crossed over his chest, goofy grin on his face. "How's it going, guys?"

Billy turns the TV off with a huff, slamming the remote down with extra force, making you jump. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"How'd you even get in?" You ask at the same time, making Stu laugh.

"Back door was unlocked. You two look pissed off. Sorry I didn't realize I'd be interrupting a grope fest."

You blush, but then quickly remember that during your horny makeout session, Billy had taken your shirt off, which was probably why Stu was showing more interest in you than usual.

You gather your shirt from the floor, throwing it on quickly before standing, "I should get going."

Billy makes a noise of protest, groaning in annoyance at Stu, "He'll leave. You stay."

"No, Billy, I should be getting home anyway. My parents are gonna be flipping. I just need a minute, I'll be right back." You say and brush past Stu for the stairs, already knowing where the bathroom was.

--

A few minutes later and you head out of the upstairs bathroom, pausing when you overhear Billy and Stu arguing. You figured Billy was bitching Stu out over interrupting them, but quickly realize how wrong you are.

"Real nice, man, thank you for that."

"I said sorry. Besides, I would've never imagined you'd get someone like Y/N over here, legs wrapped around your body, tits in your face."

"I didn't think it'd happen either." Billy shrugs, "But it did."

Your brows furrow. Was this some kind of... plan? No, it couldn't be.

"Yeah, well, thanks to you, our original plans for tonight have been rescheduled. Unless you still down for it."

...That gets your attention. "C'mon, man, Y/N's here. I'm trying to get her to stay."

"We made these plans yesterday, Billy. There's only a short period we can use for this. And we've already lost a few hours."

What in the hell was Stu talking about?

"Can't you do this one night alone?"

"We're a team! I can't do it without you, man."

Billy huffs in annoyance, raking a hand through his hair, "I invited Y/N over. I can't just leave without a good excuse."

"Y/N's heading out anyway."

"Because you showed up."

"Whatever. We need to do this soon if we're going through with it."

That uneasy feeling in your gut returns in full, making your heart race in fear. Whatever their little 'plan' was, it wasn't good. And they obviously did these things often.

"Just do it by yourself. It'll be fine."

Stu scoffs, "We started it together, we do this together. I can't do it all by myself while also wearing this."

He drops a black duffel bag by his feet, pulling out a white ghost mask, the same one the killer wears, handing it to Billy. "You wore it last night anyway."

Your eyes widen and can't help the gasp that slips past your trembling lips, the noise sounding so loud through the quiet house.

Billy and Stu's eyes narrow and glance up at you, finding you peering down at them over the railing.

"Your right, Billy, guess we're not going anywhere," Stu says after a tense moment, smilingly menacingly up at you.

[octothorpetopus]

spence and derek are together and the team doesn't know but then one of then gets mad bc they are tired of hiding, so angst w happy/fluffy ending

Give A Little Bit (Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid)

After six months of dating in secret, Spencer is ready to tell their friends. Derek isn’t quite so sure.

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one, especially Derek’s introspection towards the end. I hope you like this!

Tags: @thebostonreaper @criminalminds-world @agenthotchner @rxseinbloom @cha0ticbisexual @starsandsupernovae

“Coffee. Now.” Derek paused in the doorway to the round table room. “Uh, please.” Emily looked up from where she stood by the coffee machine, arching her eyebrows.

“You look awful.”

“I feel awful.” He slumped into his chair, accepting the styrofoam cup gratefully when she offered it to him. “God, why does no one remind me not to drink too much?”

“You’re a grown-ass adult, Morgan. At this point, if you’re hungover on a work day, that’s on you.”

“Yeah, that’s not helpful. Coffee is helpful.” He chugged the entire cup in one go, wincing at the bitter taste.

“Man, what did you do last night?” He shrugged, and the rest of the team filed in. Spencer sat down next to him, his eyes curious.

“I went out.”

“Hot date?” Derek smirked.

“I guess you could say that. We were clubbing for awhile, then went back to my place for a nightcap, things got out of hand, and now…” As if to prove his point, he knocked his sunglasses over his eyes, blocking out the brilliant overhead fluorescent light.

“Wait, wait, wait. This is the fifth night in like, two weeks you’ve had a date. Derek Morgan, do you have a girlfriend?” He laughed easily, but shifted in his seat.

“Come on, Em, I-“

“Who is she? Come on, tell me.”

“You don’t know her.” Spencer cleared his throat, smiling flatly.

“Hey, guys?” He gestured to the front of the room, where Penelope was waiting patiently.

“If you guys would please stop flirting, I’d like to start the briefing.” Sheepishly, Derek waved a hand.

“My bad. Proceed.”

“Thank you. Now, if you’ll look at your tablets, you’ll see- oh, god, I didn’t mean to look at that…”

It was a local case, and as it turned out not one that they could be helpful in, so Derek went home to his little house in Arlington, flopped down on his sofa with his German shepherd’s head in his lap, and flipped on a cooking show. He was ready to doze off to Rachel Ray’s pickled onion recipe when his doorbell rang.

“I swear to god, if you’re a Jehovah’s Witness or someone trying to sell something, I will throw you into the Potomac!”

“It’s me.” Derek’s mood brightened. He raced to the door, skidding on the hardwood floors. and threw it open.

“Hey there, pretty boy,” he said, leaning against the door frame as nonchalantly as he could.

“Hi.” With the awkward sweetness Derek had grown accustomed to, Spencer leaned in to kiss him quickly, his hands wrapped tightly around the strap of his messenger bag.

“Oh, come on, you can give me more than that.” Derek seized Spencer’s face firmly in his hands and kissed him, really kissed him, long and slow and sweet and warm. The beginnings of rain floated through the air. “Come on in,” he said, holding open the door. Spencer stepped inside, but didn’t go straight to the kitchen like he almost always did (Derek always had a steady supply of baked goods from Penelope, most of which Spencer ate). Instead, he stood in the foyer, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

“Uh, can we sit down?”

“Yeah, sure.” They sat down in the living room, and that’s when Derek knew something was happening, something big. Spencer always sat on the floor in front of the sofa, for some reason, and despite Derek’s protests that it was bad for his back. This time, however, he sat in one of the soft but rarely used leather armchairs, his fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm on the stiff black leather.

“Spencer, baby, talk to me.” Derek absentmindedly scratched the top of Clooney’s head.

“Do you remember our first date? Like, our first real date?”

“Sure. It was about a month before Emily came back.”

“That was six months ago, Derek.”

“Yeah. Wow. Spence, what’s your point?”

“My point is that it’s been six months, or actually six months, two weeks, and four days, and we haven’t told a single member of our team.”

“...Spencer, we’d lose our jobs. We could face legal repercussions. We’re government agents.” Derek leaned back, smiling, but his stomach turned. This was more serious than he’d thought and he knew it.

“Derek, you know Hotch wouldn’t report us. Penelope and Kevin make it work. Why can’t we? Tell me, why can’t we make it work?”

“Look, I don’t want to argue about this tonight.”

“Derek.” Spencer clutched his hand, pleading. “I need to tell my friends- our friends- our family.”

“Why? Why do they need to know?” Spencer got to his feet, stammering and starting to pace.

“I don’t know, Derek, maybe because I’m sick of hearing you talk about all the girls you go out with when I know damn well that at the end of the day, I’m the one you come home to. I don’t want to have to hear you talk about your ‘girlfriend’ who doesn’t exist just so you don’t have to tell Emily. What is going on with you? I understood not wanting to tell people for the first few months, but we’re six months into this thing. Do you… do you not want to be with me?”

“Spencer, of course that’s not it.” Derek stood up and took Spencer’s hands, but Spencer ripped them away.

“Then what? Are you embarrassed of me? Of how young I am? Or is it just because I’m… odd?”

“No. Never, ever think it’s because I’m ashamed to be with you.”

“Then why?”

“I just want some damn privacy! Don’t you? We let these people into every little nook and cranny of our lives whether we want to or not, and I want- no, I need something that they don’t get a say about!”

“They don’t get a say, but I sure as hell should.”

“I’m doing this for us! I’m doing this for you, Spencer!”

“I- what?” Spencer stepped back, puzzled.

“Look at us, kid. You were a child prodigy and had three PhDs by the time you were twenty-four. And me, well… you know me. What are they going to think?”

“They’re our friends, Derek. They’re our family..

“Friends don’t always have the response you want them to. Come on, you know that.”

“So, what? You don’t want them to know about us because if they know we’re queer-” Derek flinched at the word, but Spencer didn’t seem to notice. “-then they’ll think I’m even weirder than they already think I am? I don’t care about that, and I honestly don’t really think you do either. I think this is about you. You don’t want them to view you as any less of the alpha male hypermasculine son of a bitch that you try to be.”

“Don’t you dare profile me, doctor,” Derek snarled, and even though they were the same height, Spencer seemed tiny by comparison. “You know, I thought you were different than them. I thought you were willing to give me a little privacy. Our fourth date, we made a promise not to profile each other. Ever. You just broke that promise, so I don’t think you get to tell me anything about our relationship right now.” Spencer bit his lip, still obviously angry, but he couldn’t seem to come up with anything else to say. “Why did you have to do this, Spencer? We have a good thing going, don’t we?”

“Sure. But what’s the point of a good thing if it never sees the light of day?” Before Derek could respond, both of their phones buzzed.

“New case.”

“New case.” They stared at each other for a moment.

“We should-”

“I think I’ll take my own car.” Spencer pressed his lips together until they disappeared in a thin white line, and Derek couldn’t tell if he was trying not to scream or cry. “I’ll see you there.” Without waiting for a response, he left, slamming the front door behind him and abandoning Derek, who stood quiet and helpless in the living room, Clooney whimpering at his feet. He was so tired of fighting, but something in him wouldn’t let him tell them. Something in him screamed YOU CAN’T YOU CAN’T YOU CAN’T over and over and over again, bouncing around his head like an echo in an empty cathedral. But if he didn’t, he would lose Spencer. Those two things weighed in the scales of his mind, but he pushed them aside. They had a case, and he didn’t have a choice.oice.

At some point while they were arguing, the light mist had turned into heavy rain, and by the time Derek made it into Quantico he was soaked from head to toe. He dripped water on the round table room floor. Spencer was already there when he arrived, folded into his chair, his expression not angry but sober, introspective. When Garcia started the briefing, his head snapped up, as if waking from a dream.

“Last week in Harlon, Kentucky, three former inmates from a federal penitentiary were found stabbed to death and buried in shallow graves in a park. They were found by a woman walking her dog, who used to be a K-9.”

“They were killed fairly close together, that means this unsub isn’t hesitant,” Rossi mused.

“We should be looking at other released inmates.” Hotch set his tablet down on the table.

“Victims and families of their crimes, too,” Emily added.

“Could be a corrections officer gone rog-“

“We should be looking at everyone working in the criminal justice system when they were put into prison,” Spencer said, interrupting Derek without a second thought or glance.

“Uh, yeah.” Hotch’s eyes flirted back and forth between Spencer and Derek. “We’ll do a preliminary profile on the plane. Wheels up in thirty.” Everyone stood to leave, but Hotch didn’t move. “Morgan, stay behind for a minute.” He paused halfway to the door, briefly considered making a break for it, but stayed. When he turned around to look at Hotch, Hotch was more concerned than anything else. “What’s going on with you and Reid?” Derek shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

“Nothing.”

“Really? He seems upset. Specifically at you.”

“I don’t know, Hotch.”

“Morgan, if there’s something going on with you two-“

“Hotch, I promise. Everything’s fine.” Hotch didn’t look as if he believed Derek, but he didn’t press the issue further.

“Fine. Grab your go bag, let’s get this show on the road.”

That was how it went. It was another short case, not a hard one either. Spencer ignored Derek, Derek let him, and the rest of the team stood by in awkward silence, unsure what was happening but not willing to say anything about it. That was how it went. At least, until the plane ride back to Washington. They sat at opposite ends, instead of curled up next to each other like they always slept, like they had always done even when they were just friends, or at least before they realized that they were anything more than that. Derek watched Spencer turn the pages of his book absentmindedly. He knew that Spencer couldn’t be reading, because it was taking him far too long. Hesitantly, quietly, he got up and crossed the plane to sit across from Spencer, who pointedly didn’t look at him. Everyone else was dead asleep, but Derek couldn’t and he could tell that Spencer couldn’t either.

“Talk to me,” he whispered, fighting the urge to reach over and squeeze Spencer’s bony knee like he always did when they were making up from a fight.

“About what?” Still, Spencer didn’t look up.

“Spencer, goddamnit, I can’t see why you’re so upset with me.”

“Really? You really can’t see it?”

“If anyone has a right to be upset, it’s me. I told you, I’m not ready.”

“And that’s exactly it. You’re thinking about how this affects you. ‘I’m not ready.’ I am. We have to make these decisions together, and you’re not even considering-“

“I don’t need to consider anything,” Derek hissed, trying to keep his voice low but failing. “I’m not ready, and it’s not fair of you to expect me to-“

“No, you know what’s not fair?” Spencer wasn’t thinking anymore, and his volume was increasing steadily. Out of the corner of his eye, Derek saw JJ start to stir. “What’s not fair is for you to expect me to not tell my friends about our six-month relationship. What’s not fair is that even though neither of us has been out with another person in those six months, you refuse to let me call you my boyfriend.”

“Keep-“ Derek’s head darted around. Everyone else was still asleep. “Keep your voice down.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep my voice down,” Spencer said, very much not keeping his voice down. “Fine. But I’m sick of you telling me that I have to pretend like everything’s normal when it’s not.” JJ was fully awake now, and Derek could see her gently shake Emily.

“Spencer, I have my reasons. But I also need a certain amount of privacy, even from you. I have things I need to work through and frankly, I need more time!”

“You’ve had six months! Six months to work through these things! What am I supposed to think, Derek?”

“Guys, I-“ Spencer waved a hand to silence Hotch, who stepped back, stunned.

“You act like I don’t get a say in this. Like your feelings and whatever the hell you’re going through only affects you. I’m tired.” Spencer bit his lip. “I’m so tired.”

“I’m tired too, kid.” They stood, just staring at each other. Derek felt the weight of everyone else’s eyes on them.

“So that’s it, huh?” Spencer asked, and in the crack in his voice was everything that wasn’t said. As angry as he was, he would not do to Derek what Derek would not do to himself.

“Yeah, kid. I think that’s it.” Derek had to lean against a seat in order to keep from falling to his knees.

“Morgan, go sit down,” Hotch said firmly.

“I’m gonna go- I-“ Derek gestured vaguely towards the bathroom and stumbled away, his breathing choked and heavy. He hardly closed the door behind him before the first sob racked his body, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. His shoulders heaved and tears began to surge down his cheeks, but he endured it all in as much silence as he could, curled on the floor of the BAU jet bathroom. Outside, he could hear soft, unintelligible whispering, but no one came after him. They all knew better than that, and anyway, the one person he actually wanted to see right now was the last person who would want to talk to him. He briefly considered calling his mom, or even one of his sisters, but he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t be pushed away from the few people on this earth who knew everything about him- well, almost everything. Slowly but steadily, Derek got to his feet. His entire body felt heavy, like he was trying to walk through water. When he opened the door, everyone tried very pointedly not to look at him. He sat down across from Rossi, who flinched but didn’t look up from his magazine.

“You okay, kid?” He asked, so quietly Derek almost thought he imagined it.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Still not looking up, Rossi pulled a magazine off the seat next to him and tossed it to Derek. It was a Newsweek from two weeks ago, but Derek still felt a surge of gratitude. Not enough to dull the sensation that his heart was quite literally breaking in two, but it was something. No one else spoke, not to Spencer, not to each other, and certainly not to him. They might not have had any idea about what was going on (if they did, they didn’t show it), but they got the idea that it didn’t involve them. Maybe it should, Derek thought to himself. But if he told them now, any of them, what was any of it for?

The little house in Arlington was the same as he’d left it, except that Clooney’s water dish had been refilled by his friend who dogsat for him whenever he was out of town. Stopping only to scratch the elderly German Shepherd behind the ears, Derek headed straight for the living room, collapsing in a heap of limbs on the sofa. He couldn’t deny that it was his fault anymore, could he? Spencer really hadn’t been asking that much, when it came down to it. Just that they could be together in public, in the eyes of their friends. Because that was what you did when you were with someone. Only they had never really been together, because Derek had always laughed it off when Spencer had asked if they were boyfriends. Why was that? Why couldn’t he get up the courage to be something with someone? Not even just someone, but someone he thought he maybe loved.

So, it was love. Then why couldn’t he ever bring himself to say those words, or any like them, out loud? It wasn’t like he had never been in a long-term relationship before. It wasn’t like he had never been someone’s boyfriend, or like he’d never said “I love you”. All the dates he’d been on, the late nights shared on this same sofa, dinners with his family, introductions to his friends passed through his head like the old-school viewmaster he had loved to play with as a kid. It took him a moment to realize why this was so different than all of those other times, and when he did, he fell off the sofa onto the floor, knocking his head against the coffee table as he tumbled down. He had been a boyfriend, he had said “I love you”, he had been out in public and met the parents and the friends before.

But he had never done it with a man.

Why it had taken him this long to figure that out, he didn’t actually know, and kind of wanted to smack himself for, but then he noticed the blood dripping from his head where he had hit the coffee table, and decided he’d probably injured himself enough for one night. While he was getting up to find the first-aid kit he kept in the hall closet, he looked back, incredulous. Sure, figuring out he liked men had been a fairly recent development, but he honestly didn’t see it as life-changing at the time. No, he hadn’t told anyone, but that was because it wasn’t anyone else’s business… right?

No. That wasn’t right.

In the dim light of the bathroom, Derek inspected his injury. It wasn’t a super deep cut, but it would take a while to heal, and he’d probably have a scar for a while. Watching his blood dilute and swirl down the drain, he remembered a specific day from his childhood he hadn’t thought about in years. He had only been twelve, maybe thirteen, and playing basketball with a few friends after school when they heard yelling from around one side of the community center. That had been the first hate crime he had ever seen- a gay kid got beat up simply for being gay. And as a Chicago cop, and an FBI agent, it was not the last. It wasn’t the last time he heard slurs tossed around like they bore no weight, casual ignorance from the coworkers in the locker room or friends on the street. If they’d known about him, would they have stayed quiet? Would they have kept their vitriol to themselves until he was gone and then let it spew, melting the world around them like acid? Or would they have done to him what they did to that kid that day at the community center? No, he was too big and too strong for that. Being big and strong was what protected him, from fists and rage, but also from prying eyes. No one ever expected that the 200 lb former linebacker and Judo black would be the one with the dirty little secret. Maybe if they did, it would be easier. Maybe if he thought it would surprise everyone less, it wouldn’t be quite so hard. When Spencer had come out to the team a few years ago, no one had seemed surprised. It wasn’t hard to see how the skinny kid with the messy hair, who’d never really had a girlfriend, who wore sweater vests and sneakers everywhere, who could carry a conversation with only his endless fount of knowledge, could be different from the rest of them. Only he wasn’t that different, was he? No, his coming out had been what sparked Derek’s journey of self-discovery, so they weren’t as different as they seemed. What he truly couldn’t endure was the surprise. He didn’t want to be seen in a different light- he was just Derek Morgan, same as always. But that was never really the case with a bomb like this. No one ever just took it without flinching, without questions that demanded answers he couldn’t give.

The scales in his mind, which up until this point had been weighted so heavily towards that one side, that side that said everything would go wrong and his life would change forever, began to tip now. Because now he was in his home office, staring at the bulletin board over his desk. His office was the one place no one else ever went in his house (his bedroom was almost his own, except the time he’d let Emily sleep in his bed after getting a little too wasted at the FBI Christmas party). But no, his office was his and his only, so that was where he kept all the reminders he needed for himself, without anyone else’s input. A signed puck from a Chicago Blackhawks game he’d gone to with his father before he died. A dried flower from the bouquet his mom had sent him when he was accepted into the FBI academy. But he wasn’t looking at those things right now, right now his eyes were fixed on the photo that had taken a prominent position front and center. If he’d been profiling himself, he would have said that the reason was that that photo had some kind of importance. It was him and Spencer, about three months earlier, at a Washington Wizards game, basketball being the only sport he could convince Spencer to go to. The picture was a close-up of the jumbotron, during the third-quarter Kiss Cam (he had paid the guy working the Kiss Cam twenty bucks for the footage). In it, Spencer was wearing one of Derek’s old Wizards jerseys, and he was still in the middle of saying something when Derek had kissed him. His wide eyes made it obvious it had been a surprise, but his smile and the hand resting on Derek’s backwards baseball cap gave him away. Derek loved that picture, that’s why he had put it on the board right where he could see it as he worked. He wanted to go back to that, to the quiet ease and the loud feelings, to blending into a world that told them they had to stand out.

The scales were tipping. On one side, there was the world. On the other, there was Spencer. Spencer, who loved brownies and foreign films. Spencer, who wore his sneakers to The Capital Grille. Spencer, who should have been jaded and cynical but still had an optimism about the world Derek couldn’t quite refute. The scales were tipping, and Derek made no effort to stop them. With every minute he stared at that picture, every minute he thought about the last six months, they tipped further and further until there was no denying that one outweighed the other. With a little resignation, a little relief, and a lot of apprehension, Derek got up, turned off the office light, and went to bed.

The round table room was dead silent when he walked in, not that anyone had been talking before he’d arrived. Rossi and JJ were watching everyone with wide, wary eyes. Emily was staring into her coffee. Garcia bit her lip, her nerves obviously getting to her. Hotch was scrolling through his tablet. Spencer sat in his chair, staring off into the near distance. His hair was more of a mess than normal, his tie was crooked, and his eyes were heavy-lidded and red, like he’d stayed up all night.

“Garcia.” Hotch nodded. “Let’s get started.”

“Okay, well-” Penelope’s voice wobbled, and she started suddenly as Derek raised his hand. “I- what?”

“Can I say something before we start?” Confused, a little freaked, she looked to Hotch for confirmation. Hotch looked equally as confused, but nodded.

“Go ahead, but try to make it quick.”

“I will.” On shaky legs, Derek stood. Everyone looked at him, their interests piqued, except Spencer, who continued staring off at some point Derek couldn’t see. “Six months ago, I met someone. Well, no. I already knew them. Six months ago, I saw someone I knew in a different light. And for the last six months, I’ve been falling head-over heels in love.”

“Derek, how come you never told me?” Penelope gently squeezed his hand. “Whoever she is, I’m sure we’d love her.” He smiled, shaking his head.

“That’s just it. You’re not going to love her, because there is no her.” Confused, the team glanced at each other, but remained silent. “He is so incredibly special to me, and I’ve wanted to scream it from the rooftops for six months, but I just… I couldn’t.” Now, for the first time, he turned to Spencer. “Spencer Reid, I love you.” Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes wide like he’d just woken up. His mouth opened and closed a few times but he didn’t say anything. Derek wasn’t watching anyone else, but he was sure they were wearing identical looks of shock. “I’ll never be as sorry for anything else in my life as I am that I never told you that, and that I made you keep this secret for so long.” He crouched in front of Spencer, taking his hands. “I had to think. I shouldn’t have had to, I should have just let myself be with you, but I did. I’ve seen a lot, Spencer, a lot of myself and a lot of the world. And I hate to say it, but I’ve got way too much fear for my own good. But I realized that if I weigh whatever fear I have against you, it’s no contest.” He cleared his throat and straightened, facing his startled friends. “I’m bisexual. It took me a while to figure it out, and even longer to come to terms with it, but it’s who I am. Six months ago, about a month before you came back, Em, I asked Spencer to go to the movies with me. We’ve been together ever since. Last week, he asked me if we could tell you. I let my demons get the better of me. I’m not gonna do that anymore. Spencer.” He held out a big, weathered hand, pleading silently for Spencer to take it. Spencer stares up at him, clearly hesitating. But then he blinks, and whatever reservations he had disappeared. He took Derek’s hand and let himself be pulled into a hug. Derek felt his narrow, bony arms wrap around his shoulders and his head bury into the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry,” Derek whispered, knowing the rest of the team was still watching, not really caring.

“I forgive you,” Spencer murmured.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Derek frowned. “Sorry. Love you too.”

“Ahem.” Hotch cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, I’m very happy for you guys, but can we finish the briefing first?” Derek and Spencer untangled their limbs, both grinning sheepishly. They sat back down, an awkward but cheery silence sweeping the room.

“Wow. Uh, okay.” Penelope wiped her eyes and Derek realized she was crying a little. So was he, just a few little happy tears in the corner of his eyes. In fact, it looked like there wasn’t a dry eye at the round table. “So, yesterday in Sacramento, one Mr. Paul Young was found in a dumpster with his hands cut off- ew.”

“Morgan. Reid. Hang on a minute.” Hotch beckoned for them to stay as the rest of the team headed to the jet. Derek winced. He’d known there would be something, but he’d hoped rather foolishly that Hotch would give them a few days. Nope.

“Hotch, listen-“

“Guys, just… hold on.” Hotch scanned them both with those dark, analytical eyes. “I won’t tell Strauss if you don’t want me to, which I’m assuming you don’t. I’m guessing you two know that this isn’t going to be easy.”

“Hotch-“

“I’m not done. You cannot have anything happen like what happened on the plane yesterday. If you do, I will tell Strauss. I’m not threatening your jobs, and even if I do tell Strauss, I will fight for you to keep your jobs. But that can never, ever happen again. Am I clear?” Derek nodded vigorously, and out of the corner of his eye saw Spencer doing the same. “Good.” Hotch remained serious for a moment, then broke out smiling. Derek couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Hotch smile so brightly. “I’m happy for you guys. Really.”

“Thanks, Hotch.” When Derek glanced over at Spencer, he was flushed bright red.

“Alright. Get your stuff, get on the jet. I’ll see you there.” He pushed between them, leaving them alone by the round table.

“I’m sorry too, you know,” Spencer said, turning to face Derek.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Neither do you, really. You needed to process things I didn’t even know you were thinking about. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like those feelings weren’t valid, or if your feelings weren’t as important as mine.”

“No. Never.” Derek took Spencer’s face in his hands and smiled, feeling the happy tears resurface. “It all worked out in the end.”

“No. Not the end. The beginning.” Slowly; hesitantly at first, Spencer leaned in and kissed him, and Derek let him, pushing back with more fervor.

“We should go,” he said quietly, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against Spencer’s. “Hotch’ll be pissed if we’re late.”

“Let him.” Spencer grabbed the collar of Derek’s t-shirt with one hand, the back of his head with the other, and pulled him in for another kiss. When he broke the second kiss, he held out his hand, which was soft and bony in comparison to Derek’s. Derek took his hand and let Spencer lead him out of the room. He was right, really. This wasn’t the end of a secret not worth keeping. It was the beginning of a real love story.