#i only had one day off this week so i spent it drawing i’m sorry

[bamfkeeper]

Sorry no fics were posted yet today, I have 5 in drafts I’m working on. Be out soon 💙

[strang3lov3]

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You and Joel both know how he got that virus on his computer, and you can’t help but to relentlessly tease him in more ways than one…until Joel’s had enough.

Alternatively, Joel should really stop clicking on links that Tommy emails him. (7.6k)

Tags - neighbor!joel, grumpy!joel, pre/no outbreak, porn watching, joel straight jorkin’ his peanits, teasing, lingerie, handjobs, upside down blowjobs (like what happened in spider man), rough sex, manhandling, oral (f receiving), come eating, fingering, overstim, soft dom!joel, porn watching, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described Fic Help - @joeloverture, @joelsgreys, and @endlessthxxghts for their beautiful brains, and @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for editing and patiently explaining dial up internet to me for this fic 🩷👾📀🖥️ Patti, I seriously cannot thank you enough. You made this fic fucking perfect. A/N - sorry for the delay on getting joel out to you in a timely manner, he should be cumming a lot more frequently…maybe. I do have a vacation I’m leaving for in less than a week. Also, thank you for all the well wishes and participation on my anniversary/5k celebration, I love you all so very much 🩷

masterlist

You know what you came here for. Grumpy, technologically inept Joel fucking the daylights out of you below 👇🖥️🦠🛜👾😍🍑👅💦🍆

It's early evening on a Saturday and finally time for Joel to enjoy his day off. He spent the day doing yard work, grocery shopping, and chauffeuring his daughter to and from soccer games. Saturdays are never really very relaxing for him, so when he has a quiet moment, like right now, he takes advantage. 

Joel draws the curtains closed in his kitchen as he stares at his computer setup and contemplates, even though his mind is already made up. It’s a sign - there’s a Victoria’s Secret coupon set that’s been sitting on his kitchen counter since this morning, addressed to you of course. Damn mailman can’t get anything right. 

He sits down on the chair in front of the monitor and powers the machine on, opens the tower’s disc drive and inserts his AOL CD before opening the matching AOL application. He has a post-it taped to the bottom of a drawer next to him that he reads from every time to remember his username and password. Joel grumbles to himself as he unzips his jeans, something about ‘damn thing’s always takin’ too long to load’ as the screen goes from dialing to connecting to connected. Netscape takes even longer to load, but when it finally does Joel visits his favorite website, victoriassecret.com. He works his half-hard cock in one hand, feeling it stiffen in his palm as the screen loads slowly, images of lingerie-clad models coming to life bit by bit. Joel groans and squeezes himself. 

He knows that jerking off to Victoria's Secret advertisements is juvenile at best. He knows other porn exists, he’s got old dirty Playboy magazines from his teenage years and even some bootleg VHS tapes that his brother Tommy copied for him. He’s tried to watch them, but they’re all sort of sterile and awkward, the dialogue fake and the women’s moans exaggerated and over the top, it takes him out of the fantasy. They can also only be played on the television in the living room, which is not ideal for a number of reasons.

 Joel also knows that the women in these advertisements are not real, that they’re airbrushed and photoshopped to the point of looking like Barbie dolls. He knows that they have more curves and body hair than what he’s looking at on his screen, that they have cellulite, stretch marks, and all of the other things he loves on a woman’s body. But Joel is nothing but a man, and a lonely one at that. A hard worker and a dedicated father, he doesn’t have much time for dating. And importantly to Joel, Victoria’s Secret advertisements allow him to do something his dirty magazines and bootleg VHS tapes can’t - use his imagination. 

Oh yes, Joel loves when a little mystery is left for him, to pique his interests. He loves to imagine what the model’s breasts look like, if they’re more round-shaped, or like tear drops. Would they hang heavy, swaying when she moved, or would they point outward, petite and perky? How dark or light are their nipples and what would they look like when hard? He loves to picture their vulvas, to visualize what their folds would look like spread in front of him, to envision how they maintain their pubic hair. He wonders what they look like when they’re wet, lips all swollen. It thrills him, excites him. 

His eyes are squeezed shut and he’s pumping his cock when a loud email notification from tommyboy69er@aol.com interrupts him. “Fuckin’ Tommy,” he mutters, clicking on the popup. 

here’s this for your spank bank pervert 

No greeting, no goodbye, nothing capitalized and no punctuation. Just one blue link and nothing else. Joel rolls his eyes but clicks the link anyway, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.

Just like before, it takes a moment to load but when it finally does, Joel blushes. It’s a porn site where people appear to upload their own porn. It seems expansive, all sorts of categories. Immediately, Joel’s intrigued - he didn’t realize that this kind of stuff was available online. He guesses that he probably should have known that, but rationalizes that he doesn’t use the internet much. His computer is meant for a few things - playing Microsoft Pinball, emailing clients, and browsing Victoria's Secret during times like this. But this - this might’ve just changed the game. 

From the thumbnails, these appear to be real people. People of all ages, from young adults to older lovers. Nudity plastered across his screen in all different shapes and sizes, a variety of lengths and cup sizes before him. There are people consensually exploring kinks and couples in love, everyone engaging in a variety of different sexual acts from solo stuff to threesomes to orgies. This has it all, gay, straight,  and everything in between. After scrolling through, Joel notices that there’s a little magnifying glass to search for whatever one may fancy. Joel clicks on this and he first searches ‘boobs’. Then ‘big boobs’, ‘small boobs’, ‘blowjobs’, ‘doggy style’. With each search term he types in, the screen loads with various videos of his request. And then, just for shits and giggles, he searches for his favorite - ‘lingerie’.

The results are everything he dreamed of. Forget Victoria’s Secret, this has it all. Women of different sizes and skin tones, all in various stages of undress. Some wearing bras and panties, others wearing lace babydolls and teddies. One particular thumbnail has his interest piqued, though. It’s a woman in a robe, leaning towards the camera so her cleavage is showing. “Let me strip tease you ;)” is the title of her video. 

CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

She doesn’t need to tell Joel twice. Joel clicks the link and watches a little popup on his screen indicate that a video is downloading. Once downloaded, he opens the file and begins to watch the video. The woman featured is cute, he thinks. She’s a curvy redhead and she’s teasing, smiling - he likes that. Those Victoria's Secret models don’t smile like this. She lifts her lacy pink robe and shows her ass where there’s a cute little heart-shaped peekaboo cutout in her panties. Joel likes that too. Joel’s been absentmindedly stroking himself and he sighs in contentment. She’s about to open her robe, show him her breasts and–

Windows System Alert

Error Code: 0x80070070

Your computer has encountered a critical issue due to a potentially harmful program. This issue has affected system files and may cause instability or loss of data.

Please take the following actions immediately:

Save all work in progress.

Disconnect from the internet.

Run a full system scan with your security software.

For further assistance, contact technical support.

“Well, that ain’t right,” Joel mumbles. Joel clicks on the little red X in the top right corner to make it disappear, but the popup is right back where it was, blocking that cute redhead from giving Joel a virtual show. He tries closing the message again, it pops right back up. Growing slightly irritated, Joel closes the media player altogether and reopens the downloaded strip tease video. It won’t open. “The fuck?” He tries opening an old untitled document from months ago, and yet again he’s met with the same error message. The popup is arriving in multiples now, blocking his screen. It’s like whack-a-mole, the way he’s closing one and two more pop up in its place.

Joel’s out of his depth here, so he decides to consult an expert. He lives right across the street from a total computer whiz, so he’ll ask her for help. He tucks himself back into his jeans with a soft groan, zips and buttons his jeans before making his way to her house. 

-

You’re vacuuming your floor when you think you hear the faint sound of knocking, so you turn around to see a figure standing on your porch through your window. It’s Joel. Devastatingly handsome, grumpy, single dad. 

You and Joel got off to a rocky start when you moved into the neighborhood a couple years back. He used to hound you about letting your grass grow too long, and you’d argue back by telling him that it’s good for the environment. Growing tired of your protesting, Joel decided to start mowing your lawn for you, without your consent. Not that you really minded, he always wears his grass-stained white and navy New Balance sneakers, his few-inches-too-short denim cutoffs and an old white tank top, stained with grease and his own sweat. It clings to his body, outlining his soft belly. His slightly graying but dark, damp curls cling to his perspiring forehead as his thick thighs clench with every step he takes, pushing that heavy lawnmower up and down your front yard. You compensate him with glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade, offer him a cool wash rag that he wipes his forehead with, the sweat and water dripping down his temple, over the stubble on his jaw. Tensions softened then, and Joel’s been a nice neighbor to have ever since. He, his brother and daughter are good people. 

You tap the button on the bottom of your vacuum cleaner with your toe, shutting it off before opening the door for Joel. He looks a little disheveled - he’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide. “You busy right now?”

“For you? You know I’m always too busy,” you smirk, tapping your foot against his shoe. 

“Yeah, whatever. Listen, I’m findin’ myself in need of your computer expertise. Would you be able to help me, darlin’?”

It’s the way Joel calls you darlin’, how he flashes those sparkling, chocolate eyes at you, bats his long lashes and smiles at you in such a way that you’re sure he’s deliberately trying to send you to an early grave. You’re wrapped around Joel’s finger but nevertheless, you work your angle. “My time is precious, Joel. How will you make it worth my while?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Oh, give me a break. I’ll mow your lawn. Does that work for you, princess?” 

“You already mow my lawn.” 

“Yeah, and I’ll keep mowin’ it. How’s that?” 

“Cheap,” you quip. But you still smile and close the door behind you, and Joel blushes as you unknowingly take the hand Joel was just pleasuring himself with in yours, swinging your arms between you playfully as you cross the street to his house together. Your skin tickles when Joel places a hand on your lower back, guiding you to his computer setup before pulling out the chair for you. You log into his computer using his own username and password, something you know by heart. Joel has forgotten his password so many times, he used to call you - at a minimum - twice a week to ask you what it was. The only solution to that issue was for you to write it down on a post-it note and stick it next to the monitor for him. He absolutely hates that you’ve made him put dollar signs and exclamation marks in his password. “Seems unnecessary,” is what he would say, annoyance lacing his tone. 

You retorted with, “Well if you can’t even get into your own computer, how could anyone else?” and Joel shrugged and nodded.

Joel pours both himself and you a glass of ice water, then sits down at the dining room table behind you. “So it’s uhh…” he starts, interrupting himself to sip his water. “Got this error message thing when you click on a file.”

Clicking a file, you see the error popup Joel’s referring to. “I see,” you mumble, clicking on a few others. Joel watches your brows furrow in concentration, a frown painting your lips. 

Oh, shit. Joel didn’t even think to delete that file. “W-what is it? Why’re you makin’ that face?”

“I’m diagnosing.”

Right. Of course you are. You haven’t seen anything you’re not supposed to see, because it’s not like the files would magically start opening for your eyes only. Right? “What’s the verdict, doc?” Joel jokes, hoping you don’t hear the way his voice wobbles slightly with anxiety. 

You suck in a breath through your teeth, “Not good,” you reply. “All of your files are corrupted, I thin–”

Joel interrupts, “What’s that, what’s corrupted? Is that bad?”

“Your turn,” you interrupt back, cocking an eyebrow at his impoliteness. It’s very unlike him.

“M’sorry, hon. Go ‘head, sorry.”

 Joel needs to get it together. He’s fidgety and high-strung. He needs to calm down. It’s fine. It will be fine. You’re gonna work your magic and you’re not gonna see anything you’re not supposed to see. When you’re done, you’re gonna go home and Joel will go right back to his private time as previously scheduled - that’s probably what his biggest problem is, he’s blue-balled himself and he’s all wound-up. Problem will be fixed, easy peasy.

 “When did you say this problem started again?”

“Uh, just a little bit ago,” Joel answers, walking over to the sink and getting himself a glass of water. “Thirsty?”

“No, thanks. What websites do you visit?”

Joel watches you browse his files and mess with the system preferences on his computer. “The weather mostly, or Amazon.. Orderin’ books for Sarah.” Which is a total lie, but he justifies this in his head by telling himself that you don’t need to know what website he visits the most. It’ll embarrass you both. And actually, Sarah prefers to go to the library. She even went today.

“Anything else?”

Joel lies again, “Check the news from time to time, check my team’s scores.” 

You hum in response and continue typing. Joel wishes he could type like that, watching your fingers effortlessly fly across the keyboard. He likes the sound it makes, the quiet clicking and the tapping of your manicured fingernails. “What about emails, you avoiding those scams I told you about?” 

“Yes.”

“Clicking on chainmail?” 

“I am not.”

“Not anymore,” you mumble under your breath. Joel rolls his eyes. You’ll never let it go, will you?

-

Chainmail is how you became Joel’s IT girl. For a couple of months, you’d received various emails from him that were just copy-paste chainmail messages. You know, the ones that say things like ‘Click here to verify your account information. Send to 10 friends and family members to verify their accounts as well.’ You’d just delete, delete, delete, and reply back asking him to stop emailing you these things. But Joel never stopped, day after day he’d send you chainmail. After receiving what felt like the eightieth spam email from jmiller@aol.com, you decided to confront him. 

Joel awoke from an accidental afternoon nap to rather incessant knocking coming from his front door. He opened it only to find you on his porch, where you then proceeded to invite yourself inside. “What happened to hello?” he asked, his voice all sexy and raspy and his eyes tired, lines indenting his face from laying on the couch. He yawned, running his fingers through his curls to try and tame the bed head. You wondered if he always looked this handsome when he woke up.

“Sorry, hi,” you corrected. “Need to borrow your computer. Please.”

Yawning again, Joel sleepily gestured to his computer in the kitchen. “Knock yourself out. Damn thing ain’t actin’ right, though.”

You powered the machine on logged in using the post-it taped to his wall, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. Upon logging in and connecting to the internet, you noticed all sorts of glitches. Not even your computer ran consistently smoothly, but Joel’s was a wreck. Popups and error messages of all different kinds littered the screen, blocking the cute picture of himself and Sarah he had set as the background. “Wow, I couldn’t tell,” you teased. “You have more errors than you do applications on this thing, Joel.” Joel only shrugged in response. “Come sit by me,” you said.

Joel pulled up a seat next to you. “I wanna show you something. Can I open your email?”

“Go right ahead, hon.”

You opened Joel’s email and found his ‘sent’ box, where the last sent email was addressed to you. You clicked it and it opened to his last sent piece of chainmail. “I’ve asked you to stop sending me these emails,” you told him. 

Joel looked crushed almost, a look of puzzlement and what might’ve been hurt momentarily painting his features. “You have?”

“I have.”

The chainmail on the screen was a common one he’d send you, the one asking you to give up your information to protect yourself. “I was only tryin’ to be neighborly. I thought you’d like ‘em, y’know - want you to keep yourself safe.”

It was endearing, the way he explained himself. How he wanted you to stay safe. Your frustration dissipated, only to be renewed as you looked in his spam folder to find all of your replies to him in there instead of his main inbox. “Joel, why am I in your spam folder?” you asked, sighing. Joel simply shrugged and you didn’t even have words. By the look on his face, he probably didn’t even realize he had a spam folder, much less knew what one was. But you had greater concerns. “What are those emails supposed to keep me safe from?”

 “Well, from…” Joel’s mouth hung open as he thought about it, looked up and to the side as he began to realize he didn’t have an answer. “Uhh–”

“You don’t know, do you?” Joel shook his head. “Exactly. It’s called phishing, these emails you’ve been sending me aren’t real. They’re trying to get peoples’ personal information, like, look–” you pointed to the screen, showing Joel an example, “See? Here, it’s asking for your bank information.”

“And I wasn’t ‘sposed to give them that?”

You tilted your head in disappointment, “Joel.” 

Joel groaned and leaned back in his chair, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Fuckin’ idiot.”

You were about to tell him to call his bank, but he was already on it. He pulled his Nokia phone from his belt clip and called his bank to explain the situation. As you went through his inbox and deleted each and every one of the hinky-looking emails, you listened to Joel on the phone. 

“Didn’t realize there were these uh…email scams…Yeah, that charge was me. And that too…

 …Will you call me f’ya see anything suspicious? Okay.

 …Okay. Thank you, ma’am. Thank you. You too.”

From what you heard of the phone call, it seemed that he was safe. You guessed that Joel’s technological ineptitude is probably what had saved him, that he likely mistyped or misunderstood what the scam was attempting to do. You continued to delete scams and other malware-adjacent things from his computer as Joel hung up the phone call and sat back down with you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, s’all good.”

Joel looked shaken, though. You touched his hand sympathetically and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re gonna learn some internet safety today.”

“Figured. I need it.” 

“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. You went through his email, pointing out all the different scams. You told him not to click on links that look like this and that. This is a scam, this is too. You told him that anything attempting to sell fireworks, guns, or anything else at the low, low price of x amount isn’t real. And no, these emails here do not mean that you won a new TV or the lottery or a cruise. Anything that seems too good to be true definitely is. “...Actually,” you began, “All of these are from Tommy. New rule, don’t click on anything from Tommy.”

“Noted,” Joel replied. “I didn’t know any ‘a this.”

“Most people don’t. It’s new, yet. But you know now, so it’s okay.”

Joel breathed a sigh of relief, but he still looked overwhelmed. This time he took your hand and squeezed it. After a moment, he asked you where you learned all of this from. You explained you picked a lot of it up in school, just learning things here and there. Joel let you talk about it all and seemed genuinely interested and impressed.  

“I went through and fixed all that was giving you trouble, by the way. Your computer should be running smoother,” you said. “And I changed your password.  ‘abcde’ is not a good password, Joel.” 

From that day forward, you became Joel's official computer girl. He’d call you and have you help him when he couldn’t get his computer connected to the printer, when he screwed with the settings and the computer didn’t look or act the way he was used to. Even the most basic things, like whenever he had a new picture of himself and Sarah he wanted to change the background to. Not that you minded, you’d jump at any opportunity to poke fun at your handsome neighbor’s lack of computer knowledge.

-

“Did you click on any links from Tommy?”

Joel goes quiet at that, remembering your very specific rule to not engage with him over email. He looks down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs together. “I might’ve…one or two, maybe”

“What kind of links?”

“There– Fuck, I don’t know. You know, just…websites. They take me to websites. But I don’t give ‘em my information,” he insists. 

“What’s on these websites?”

Joel thinks fast. “Truckparts,” he answers too quickly, and the two words come out as one. “Just truck parts,” he says again, slower.

“Well, you must’ve been looking at some sketchy truck parts. You’ve got a virus.” 

“Okay,” he says. “Figured as much. But you’ve fixed those before for me, haven’t you?”

“I have, but this one means business,” you reply, shaking your head. You start to type a bit, click the mouse as you go through and attempt to delete corrupted files, but it’s not working the way it should. You open Netscape and check the browsing history to see if that can clue you in as to what website could have done this to Joel’s computer. “You said it just started?”

“Just started, yeah,” Joel affirms.

Which…tracks. 

Today, Saturday, June 25, 2003

5:06 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/lingerie

4:54 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/doggy-style

4:50 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/blowjobs

4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/small-boobs

4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/big-boobs

4:45 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/home

His search history is nothing but porn, which you’re 99% sure is exactly what caused the virus. The time stamps all show that the site was visited within the last hour, and Joel says it just started, so… 

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Well,” you say, hesitating before answering fully. “I am looking at your search history.”

Joel stares at the monitor like a deer in the headlights. “There’s - my uh…” he swallows thickly, “They keep records of that?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I told you - just….lookin’ at parts,” Joel’s hand wobbles slightly as he sips on his water.

“Yeah, lady parts.”

Joel sputters on his drink, choking and coughing as he slams the glass down and water spills everywhere. He uses the bottom of his t-shirt to clean his mess as he begins to turn red, feeling his chest and neck and cheeks begin to warm. He can’t even look at you, but he hears your giggles and he can picture your smug grin and he wishes so badly he was dead right now. You’ve seen it all, you know everything. You know it and so does he. He’s gaining the courage to look at you and oh god - you’re scrolling through the dirty website. Giggling, you’re looking at everything he looked at, fucking everything. You’re seeing the same dicks he saw, the same pussies, seeing the purple links that indicate exactly what he’s already clicked on. “Yeah, laugh it up,” he says angrily, defensively. “Ain’t that funny.”

Joel’s world is ending, but it’s really not as bad as he thinks it is. The porn is tamer than what’s often found on the internet, much tamer than the shit you watch. You continue to explore the site as you listen to Joel tell on himself behind you.

“It’s just somethin’ to pass the time,” he says. “It’s natural, alright? And I know you do it too.” He’s deflecting. Even still, he’s not wrong, you certainly do take part. 

You just let him keep talking, relishing in having the upper hand in this situation. “You’re blushing,” you tell him when he quiets down, just to get him started and riled up again as you browse the site. You notice a lot of videos are duplicates, prompting users to download the same thumbnail uploaded by different usernames. Whatever Joel clicked on was probably not uploaded by a real person, though. He clocked on a gibberish username made up of random letters and numbers, unlike some other videos uploaded under actual names. Like Joel’s new found friend ‘cherry_girl_xo’, whose username link is purple. You smirk at that, turning around to look at Joel who definitely recognizes her. He’s bright red everywhere.  

You’re sure this website is the culprit, but you check the rest of his search history to see if any other clue lies in there, but see nothing of import. All you notice are various links to victoriassecret.com, over and over and over again. Based on that and his last searched term on that shady porn site, you can safely assume he’s got a thing for lingerie. Which - funnily enough, you’re wearing right now. Not the kind of lingerie Joel’s been beating off to, but similar. You’re wearing your laciest undergarments, a lavender colored bra with a matching thong. They’re your laundry day underwear, you know the kind - five years old and been sitting at the bottom of your underwear drawer untouched for four of those years, not very comfortable and only to be worn when you’ve just gotten off your period and all of your cotton bikinis and boyshorts are in the wash. That kind. 

After toying with Joel’s computer for a while longer while he twists uncomfortably in agonizing humiliation, you decide there’s not much else that can be done. “I think we have to wipe it all, Joel,” you tell him. “Delete everything and start fresh.”

Joel nods quietly. “Will I still be able to play pinball after?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure you can play pinball,” you chuckle.

“Wipe it, then.”

And so you start the process, which will take a long while. The screen loads and loads as you and Joel wait quietly. You look at Joel, who’s got an elbow on the table as he rests his forehead in his palm. “What?” he snaps, noticing you staring at him. You can’t fight the giggles from erupting. “Would you quit fuckin’ gigglin’ like that? You know that a man’s got needs and I ain’t hurtin’ anyone–” You contort your lips into a forced frown, pressing them into a thin line and then covering your mouth to keep your laughter at bay, but you’re struggling. Joel can see the amusement still sparkling in your eyes and says your name in a warning tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you smile, raising your hands in surrender. “I won’t laugh. I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Better be,” he grumbles. He drinks the last of his water quietly as you think about something, something that’s been heavy on your mind for the last couple of minutes. What if Joel knew what you were wearing beneath your clothes? You’ve made this afternoon absolute hell for him and you know that - but you don’t care. You’ve had too much fun getting under his skin to stop now. 

The real dirty work begins when you unzip your sweatshirt and hang it over the back of your chair. When Joel looks at you, you bring your hand to your shoulder and gently pull up on your bra strap, letting it snap your shoulder.

Joel shifts in his seat and clears his throat, “You warm or somethin’?”

“Yeah, it’s a little hot in here.”

“Mm,” Joel spins his now empty glass between his thumb and pointer finger. When he looks back at you, he flips the glass. You’ve pulled the top of your tank top down, your lacy bra and cleavage on full display. He tries to make two moves at once, catch the rolling glass and cover his crotch because he’s just gone erect.  “Cute. I would appreciate it if you’d knock that off now, I get the picture. S’real funny,” he mutters as he scrambles.

“What picture?” you ask innocently. 

“Oh, don’t you start. You know exactly what damn picture,” Joel snaps. “You figured it out. Got a certain fondness for ladies in lace. You feel clever or somethin’?” 

You really can’t bite back your smile this time, “Mhm.”

“You shouldn’t. You’re exploitin’ my vulnerabilities, takin’ cheap shots and–” Joel’s jaw drops as he watches you unbutton your jean shorts and show off your panties, the little bow at the center of them nicely on display. His look of shock quickly turns into a glare as you take off your tank top. “Like that, that’s playin’ dirty. Put your shirt back on and zip yourself back up. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. You really don’t. This is just as surprising to you as it is to Joel, but the look on his face tells you that you’re definitely having way more fun than he is. 

“God, you’re killin’ me,” he groans. The way you’re so cavalier about this all has Joel both flummoxed and irate. 

But you’re not this bold usually, not really. Joel must not have noticed the way your hands have been trembling, must not have heard your slightly shaky breaths. He’s been avoiding eye contact too much to notice you’ve been doing the same. “Why?”

“Why? Cause I’m only a man and you’re gettin’ me all worked up. You’re takin’ advantage of me and my biology,” Joel gestures angrily to his crotch. He’s not even bothering to hide it anymore - you’ve seen it all and know what you’ve done to him. “You proud?”

“You’re–”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ hard - been hard. Didn’t get to take care of myself ‘cause of the fuckin’ virus and here you are teasin’ and temptin’ me and…Hon, what’re you -” Joel’s angered expression turns to momentary confusion when you stand up, then turns to contentment when you straddle his lap. You press your core into his thick bulge, holding onto his shoulders for stability. “What are you doin’?” he sighs, his head falling backward.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For teasing.”

“Yeah, so you say, princess.”

You grind yourself on his lap and when Joel brings his head forward to search for your eyes, he notices how your eyes flicker away from his. Like maybe you’re not as in control of this situation as you appear to be. 

“I am.”

“Mm,” Joel hums. You’re reaching between your bodies and fumbling with the button on his jeans. He sucks in his soft belly to unbutton them for you, wraps his strong hand around your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth. “Gimme this,” he mumbles, spitting into your hand before he shoves it under the waistband of his boxers. A pang of arousal floods your gut at the action.

You palm his warm, heavy cock, feeling him thicken in your hand, though he’s already so hard. You can feel his rigid member throb and ache as you work his shaft up and down, up and down, your knuckles brushing against his thatch of coarse curls and his tummy. It’s evident how much he’s needed this, what with the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths, soft groans escaping his lips as he does so. 

Joel enjoys himself as you work him. “Fuck,” he whispers. You look down between your bodies to admire his member, the blushed, leaking tip and the thick and prominent veins. And he’s so smooth, his skin almost silky. You watch his blissed out face, contemplate kissing those pink, pouting lips of his. You’re gonna do it, bringing your face close to his. Brushing your lips ever so softly over his, Joel moves to kiss you fully when you pull back. His computer makes that signature Windows startup sound,

“I have to take care of that,” you murmur. You dismount Joel and he picks up where you leave off, stroking his own cock just like you were. He watches your nearly naked body with hooded eyes that flutter shut as you work, typing quietly on his keyboard. You set his username and password the same, make sure that things open as they should. For Joel’s own protection, you block tommyboy69er@aol.com. 

“Finished?” Joel asks as you stand up from your seat in front of his computer. 

“Mhm,” you reply, gripping his shoulder with your hand as you bend over halfway to pick up your discarded top and kiss his cheek. “Have fun with your Victoria’s Secret girls, Joel.”

Your work here is done. You’ve fixed Joel’s computer and by the look on his face, broken his heart. “What are you doing?”

You smile, too proud of yourself as you begin to walk away. Before you can walk further, Joel stands up and reaches across the table, grabbing you by the forearm and forcing you onto your back. “You ain’t gettin’ away from me that easy, princess,” he says. “I still got somethin’ that needs fixed.” Joel displays strength but is as gentle as can be, though the cold, hard wood against your spine and your shoulder blades hurt you for a moment. Your eyes widen in shock, but it’s a welcome pain. “Knew you weren’t fuckin’ sorry,” Joel spits. Your head dangles off the edge of the table and Joel uses a hand to open your mouth, forcing two of his thick fingers inside. Instinctually, you curl your tongue around the digits, sucking and licking. You can taste his cock on his fingers from when he was pleasuring himself just moments ago.

Joel pumps himself in his hand for a second before guiding his thick head to your lips, pushing past them in one quick thrust, right to the back of your throat so you gag. He likes that noise. “I give you an inch,” he grunts, “And you take a mile.” You slide your tongue over those thick veins of his you’d previously traced with your fingertips. Joel draws out of your mouth slowly, allowing you to lick his weeping slit before pushing himself back in. “It would’ve been courteous of you to keep my dirty secret to yourself, but you couldn’t even do that. Went an’ humiliated me instead, then you got the nerve to try ‘n leave me high and dry? I don’t think I deserve that.”

  Joel wants to fuck your mouth until your lips are raw and swollen, show you just what he thinks of your stunt. But he demonstrates self control, allows you to take him at your own pace and yet, you continue to tease. It’s like it’s innate or something, the way you continue to only give little by little, savoring the saltiness of his precome. He gives you one last warning, “You really should learn when to quit while you’re ahead, hon.”

You persist anyway. Wrong move. Joel fucks himself into your mouth with no regard for your comfort, taking what he needs from you. It’s sloppy and messy, his heavy balls bouncing off the tip of your nose. You wish you could see him, see the way he’d glare at you. He’s flipped like a switch, previously holding himself back from having his way with you like he wanted to. He’s taking it now. All the softness in him is gone, and you fucking love it. You reach forward, sliding your hand down your stomach, dipping it beneath your panties. You spread your legs wide and your fingers hover over your pussy, feeling that wet heat radiating from your core. Just as you let your fingers drop to touch your aching clit, you feel Joel lunge forward and pull your hand away. “Nuh-uh, not where I eat. Where are your manners, princess?” 

He fucks your mouth relentlessly, holding the sides of your head in his big hands. He watches the way your lace-covered tits bounce with his every thrust. He pushes himself deeper and deeper, ignoring your sputtering and choking on his cock. Your eyes prick with tears as your jaw begins to ache, really fucking ache. Joel doesn’t stop himself, and it’s not like he would if he knew you were crying like this. He fills the air with his own grunting and groaning, relishing in the warmth of your wet, soft mouth.

And then he’s done. No slowing to a standstill, just abruptly pulls out. You hear his heavy footsteps as he rounds the kitchen table, hooks his fingertips beneath the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down, pulls your hips close to his so your face is no longer dangling off the edge. He pulls your panties to the side, drags his thumb up and down your slick folds and it’s like the quiet before the storm. 

He notches himself in your entrance and pushes himself in, inch by inch by inch. Slowly, deliberately, so that you feel all of the stretching and aching he wants you to. “Joel,” you cry. “Fuck, Joel, please, I can’t–”

“You’ll get used to it,” he purrs. He leans over you as he fucks you slowly, holding your neck with his thumb on your jawbone while he kisses you to quiet you down, licking into your mouth and swirling his tongue around with yours. You whimper softly into his mouth with his every thrust, the pain not yet completely dissipated, but pleasurable in its own way. “Spread your legs. Wider.”

You open yourself up for him, allowing him to fuck himself deeper into you. You accept it all as he wraps your legs around his waist, your heels bouncing on his ass. The head of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, pleasure beginning to take over your senses and you moan. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Feels good, don’t it? Maybe this whole virus fiasco was a blessing in disguise, darlin’,” Joel says, “Feels good f’me too.”

You cry out loudly when he puts your legs up on his shoulders, the new angle has him inside you even deeper than before. He sits you up a bit, putting your arms behind your back and pressing your palms down flat on the table with his own. 

He draws out of you and fills you up again, over and over and over. “Fuck, look at us,” he kisses your ankle a couple of times, “Look,” Joel looks down where your bodies meet and you join him, watching how his cock slides in and out of you, all wet and coated in your slick. Panties still pulled to the side, your skin is irritated where the fabric tugs and scratches at your skin. He maintains a quick rhythm, rolling his hips into yours. 

“Make me come, Joel, I want to come.”

“Oh, I’ve got no doubt you do. But maybe I’ll leave you high and dry like you were gonna do to me, see how you like it. What a waste that’d be, huh?” You whine at the threat and Joel smiles deviously, he likes having you at his mercy like this. All pathetic and begging for him to let you come undone. “You’re nothin’ but talk, aren’t you?”

“Make me come, please.”

“You’ll have to convince me,” he says. “You heard me, convince me. Better make it quick.”

Your brain is short-circuiting, you can’t even process what Joel said and begin to make your case. You feel him twitching, his hips stuttering and before you know it, he’s spilling into you. He paints your insides with his hot spend, milking himself entirely in your cunt and your disappointment is incalculable. Tears of frustration well up and threaten to spill down your cheeks. It was all fun and games before, but you suddenly feel so used and betrayed. You can’t say he didn’t warn you. 

“Ohh, I know,” he coos, wiping your eyes. “Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”

You nod, sniffling quietly. 

“You can still convince me. I’m all ears, ya know.”

“How?”

“Well,” Joel says. He’s beginning to soften inside of you, and so he pulls out with a soft ‘fuck’, his spend spilling out of you and onto his table. “Can start with an ‘I’m sorry, Joel’. And I want a real one this time.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

“S’a good start. Wanna give me some more? Tell me why?”

“F-for teasing you and stuff.”

“For teasing me and stuff,” he repeats your words slowly. Joel pulls off his t-shirt and folds it tightly, places it at the end of the table and lowers your head onto it. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Joel kneels before you and wraps his arms around your thighs. He presses a kiss over your cloth-covered core, feeling the dampness of your arousal and his spend on his lips. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your wet cunt for him, lips all swollen and ribbons of his spend clinging to your folds. He admires the thick curls framing your pussy, “I gotcha,” he whispers. “C’mere.”

You gasp when Joel finally, finally begins to explore you, his tongue parting open your folds. He pulls back and pushes one, then two fingers inside you, humming in satisfaction at the way you suck him in, so eager and needy for his touch. He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and jerk as you try to keep yourself still. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan as he laps at your cunt, feeling that warm, sticky feeling flow through your hips. His mouth and fingers work together to bring you closer to your edge, humming as he rhythmically strokes that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue is so hot, wet, and firm as he drags it up and down your sex, circling your clit with the muscle. “Mmm, fuck. Oh, god.”

Joel doesn’t know what’s more satisfying, the sweet taste of this most private place between your thighs or the sounds of your pleasure as he eats you. He devours you voraciously, sucking one fold and nipping at the other as he curls his fingers, never faltering in their movements. With his free hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he reaches around and pulls the hood of your clit back to suck and lick the sensitive bud. His dark, slightly graying and wiry stubble drags across the skin of your inner thighs, scratching you gently. It’s building up quickly, that familiar feeling deep in your spine.

“I’m–” a moan rips through your chest and interrupts you, “Fuck, I’m–”

“I know, hon,” he whispers, escalating his efforts. He sucks, licks, and curls his fingers harder, feeling the slow build of you beginning to come apart for him. You come on his lips and spill into his hand as Joel works you through your orgasm. You’re a gushing, moaning mess, your hands fly to his scalp and you tug on his soft curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. And then another, slower. Another yet, even slower. 

You expect him to pull away from your center with a satisfied grin, his mustache and beard dampened by your slick. But he stays put, licking more long stripes up and down your pussy. Your thighs twitch and flutter uncontrollably and Joel holds you apart for him as he continues to tease, circling the tip of his perfect, aquiline nose around your clit. 

“Too much, it’s too much,” you cry. 

“Mhm. But you got one more in you, I know you do.”

“Joel–” 

You think you might break. You’re not sure where you feel Joel’s tongue, you just feel him fucking everywhere. You don’t know where your orgasm begins and ends, just that by the time Joel decides you’re done, you’re in sweet agony and he luxuriates in the taste of your second release. He’s made such a pretty mess of you. He presses one last kiss to your core, “Yeah, that was a good one, wasn’t it?”

Joel pulls away from your center, wiping his lips on your thighs. His cheeks are flushed and his dark eyes sparkle. He lets you catch your breath as he fills a glass of water for you and brings it to your lips helping you to drink as your hands are still trembling from it all. 

When the moment passes, you gather your clothes. You pull on your tank top and put your shorts back on. “Oh,” you say. 

“Hm?”

“I blocked Tommy’s email, just so you know. He’s trouble.”

Joel chuckles. “You, my darlin’, are trouble. But that’s probably for the best, thank you for fixin’ my computer again.” 

“It’s no problem,” you reply. 

“Oh–” Joel grabs something from his stack of mail on his countertop and hands it to you. It’s some Victoria’s Secret coupons.“This was addressed to you. Ended up in my mail. Fuckin’ mail guy.”

You giggle quietly, what a curmudgeon he is. “Actually, I think you need it more than I do. You can beat off to your angels in analog,” you tease.

Joel rolls his eyes. “You just don’t learn, do you?” he says, taking the coupons back from you. “And actually, think I will hang on to this. Maybe I’ll even buy you somethin’ pretty an’ we can do this again soon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, send me an ask, just tell me something nice <3 your words keep me motivated to write.

[ghcstao3]

Even without his art, Soap is a people-watcher—but that being said, finding muses for his art is a job made easy when the biggest window of his flat overlooks a busy street.

For as long as he’s lived at that address, he’s had plenty of luck picking out whoever catches his eye and filling out sketchbooks worth of passersby. Every drawing a stranger, every subject unique.

Until the empty business space across the street is finally leased out to some new bistro, and suddenly Soap only has eyes for one person.

A man too well-built to be a server, surely, with arms Soap could watch flex all day as he brings out orders to customers on the patio. Soap never knows what expression he wears not because of distance, but rather the black face mask that obscures the lower half of the man’s face.

When, weeks later, Soap notices that he’s suddenly almost filled an entire journal with sketches of the server, he decides to finally pay a visit to the bistro.

It isn’t at all luck that gets Soap seated in his—the server’s section, just the pathetic fact that he’s long since memorized the man’s oddly reliable schedule.

If Soap were a stronger man he’d never admit to the feeling of his knees going weak when the man comes to take his order. The name tag tacked to the white dress shirt that stretches over broad shoulders reads Simon, and god, does Simon have a nice voice.

As soon as he’s gone with Soap’s request, Soap’s sketchbook is open. He’s quick to scribbling out every line and curve he couldn’t possibly have seen from afar, and ends up so enraptured in this new angle that he doesn’t notice Simon has returned until he’s looming over his shoulder, gaze fixed on Soap’s journal.

“So that’s what you’ve been drawing.”

Soap startles, slams his journal shut. All he can manage is a weak what? as he looks up at Simon.

The server jerks his chin in the direction of Soap’s building. Soap notes, with some distant observation, that he’s still balancing several plates on his forearms with ease.

“I’ve seen you in the window a few times,” Simon tells him.

Soap wants to melt into the floor. He desperately needs the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry, it’s not—it wasnae—“ Soap stammers, his fingers drumming an anxious pattern on the faux leather cover of his book, “I’ll stop.”

“I don’t mind,” Simon hums, leaving it cryptically at that. He finally sets Soap’s food on the table, bidding a good meal before disappearing off to go do his job.

Soap doesn’t think the buzzing warmth on his face ever fades for the entirety of his time spent at the bistro. Simon never checks in with Soap like he does other patrons, either, so Soap just gets to wallow.

Things are hardly made better when Simon says hope to see you around after Soap has paid, or when Soap gets home and notices the phone number scrawled on his receipt just as he’s about to ball it up and toss it out.

Going to the bistro was a mistake. Simon is surely going to be the death of him.

Or Soap is going to be the death of himself—especially doing something dumb as accidentally leaving his sketchbook behind in his haste to get out.

Soap’s cheeks burn.

And when he looks out his window to the table he’d been sat, he already sees the journal is gone.

Idiot. What a complete and utter idiot.

[catherinnn]

Thigh High Boots

request: @kellyxo1 asked "Idk if its weird it just popped into my head but maybe a eddie x reader where hes been busy with his campain and paying no attention to reader and she teases him with wearing thigh high boots and nothing else and she teases him and they make love"

warnings: SMUT +18, p in v, oral (f), fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cursing, not proofread sorry :)

words: 2k

masterlist

“Baby, I’m back!” you shout from the door closing it.

“Hey” he says without taking his eyes off the sheet of paper he’s writing and drawing on.

“You’re still with that?” you complain.

He has spent the entire afternoon writing the new campaign. He was having a hard time with his creativity and imagination lately. He couldn’t think of anything, nothing that was good enough. You were gone for a couple of hours to help Robin buy a new outfit to wear for a date she has —and you bought something for yourself too while you were there.

“Yeah, I had to start again” he quickly answers. It was the truth though, at first he started with something, but as he read it again, he realized it was too basic, he had definitely wrote something similar before. So he threw that away and forced himself to keep thinking until he got something good. He started with a new idea, but he still was having a hard time. He had to finish it though, the campaign was in three days.

“Eds, you’ve been with that all day” you complain again.

“Shh, wait, wait” he lift a hand making a stop sing so he could keep writing.

Your eyes widened at this attitude, you were clearly bothering him. He kept writing, completely ignoring you. You sigh and walk away thinking of what you could do.

More time passes, maybe half an hour, and he still didn’t even lift his head from the paper. You could see his frown or his stressed expression, cursing under his breath or mumbling something to then write it on the paper in front of him.

You sigh louder. Nothing.

You get into the bathroom with what you bought. Closing the door and opening the box inside the bag, you take out your new thigh high boots. Black, leather, shiny.

You have had your eye on them for a while, and when Robin asked you to come shopping with her you had your opportunity to finally purchase them. You came home exited to try them on and show them to your boyfriend whom you were a 100% sure would go crazy over them.

The problem was he’s ignoring you. But you have an idea.

You take your clothes off. Shirt, pants, shoes, underwear. You put the boots on and you feel powerful, sexy, confident.

You walk out of the bathroom with a smirk, feeling yourself. Eddie’s still clueless, eyes and attention completely taken by his work.

You walk over to him until you’re behind the chair he’s sitting on. You hug him from behind, slowly passing your hands from his shoulders to his arms and land on his torso.

He keeps erasing words on the paper and writing over them.

“Eds, can I get your attention for just one second?” you whisper on his ear.

“Mhm”

You walk a few steps to stand in front of him, still touching his arm with one hand.

His face changes so beautifully. From a stressed frown and faintly pursed lips, to a slightly open mouth, doe eyes going up and down your body, not deciding what to land on. Your pretty face, startling breasts, voluptuous hips, or black thigh high boots making him go week on the knees.

“I wanted to show you what I got today, do you like them?” you say innocently, like you’re not completely naked but the sinful pair of boots on you.

He whispers your name, almost whimpering.

You very slowly spin around to show him all sides of the boots on you, but the boots weren’t the only thing he was looking at. Gazing at your back and ass first.

“What do you think?” you tease.

“Baby” he definitely whimpers now. “Fuck”

“What? What do you want” you softly ask him.

“Want you” he simply says.

“Okay” you move the notebook and the pens on the table to a side, forgetting about them, and take a sit on the table right in front of him. You open your legs planting your covered feet on either side of him on the chair. His gaze goes straight to your pussy. “I think you know what to do now”

His face quickly shoves into your centre and you moan surprised. He starts making out with your pussy making you even more wet.

“Mmh, slowly baby” your hand stokes his hair and he slows down running his tongue through your folds. “Fuck”

Then he focuses on your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, his hands grabbing your thighs that are on both sides of his head. “Eddie, you’re doing so good baby”

He moans at the praise and you keep talking to him, making his erection hurt. “Right there, what a good boy, so good for me baby” One of his hands leaves your thigh to start palming himself through his jeans.

“You better not be doing what I think you are” you say and his eyes open to watch you with guilt. “Are you touching yourself without asking me first?”

“Please, it hurts” he complains.

“Never told you to stop eating me out” you order and he goes back to your pussy. “You were doing so well, why do have to misbehave?” you say disappointed. “First you ignore me all day acting like I’m not here and paying more attention to your game than me, and now you’re not even grateful I’m not punishing you but also you touch without permission”

His tongue stops moving, he slowly pushes his head back and a smug smirk forms on his face.

“What are you doing?” you ask getting angry.

“You’re such a spoiled brat” he laughs pursing his lips. “Was that why you did all that fucking show for? Cause you needed attention?”

“Eddie-“

“No. Get off the table and turn around” he orders now. You move slowly still doubting. “Quicker baby” he mocks your tone from before.

You stand facing the table with him now stood up behind you, no longer sat down. He pushes you down so your front is pressed against the table. You moan surprised. His hands run through your back, your ass and your legs covered by the boots.

“I love these new boots by the way, you look absolutely sinful with them” he says. His hands go back up to your ass, groping it, and smacking it once. One hand lowers to your core, running his fingers through it and slowly pushing two in, you moan. “Such an attention whore” he goes quicker, you can hear the squelching from how wet you are.

His thumb starts working on your clit and you try to hold onto something but all you find is the endless table. You don't even try to be quiet while his fingers work inside of you, he curls them touching just the right spots.

You clench around his fingers and he notices. “You’re gonna cum baby?” He asks and you nod. “Answer me, use your words”

“Yes, Eddie!” you moan. And just when you’re about to release, just when you were feeling the pleasure build up in your belly, it suddenly stops, he took his hand out. A whine comes out of your mouth before you could even think about it, a sign of complaint.

“You think you can act the way you did and still cum anytime you want?” he asks sarcastically. “Such a slut, coming out naked wearing only these fucking boots, just for me to look at you for a bit. Was it too long of day without my attention on you? I don't know how you did it before me, princess"

If he was hoping for an answer he didn't get one. I don't think the right expression for your state right now could be 'fucked out' because you didn't even get to cum. Maybe it was because of that, your mind could only think of his fingers, arms, torso, tattoos, neck, lips. His dick. Basically just Eddie.

Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Who, speaking of, lifts your upper body so you're standing up against him. "You okay, princess?" he softly asks, no longer teasing or rhetorically asking.

You nod you head. "Just want you, please, Eds"

"Want you too, baby" He confesses, you can tell he's softer now. He takes his shirt off and lowers his pants along with his boxers. He takes a sit on the chair behind him and helps you turn around so you can sit on his lap. "Are you comfy there?"

"Mhm, very" you bite your lip and give a smile.

He starts kissing you, bringing your body even closer to his, chest to chest. His hands run all of your back, to your ass and thighs. Your hands tug at his hair which makes him groan against your mouth.

It's a heated kiss, to show how much you need each other right now. He positions the head of his cock on your entrance and you understand what he wants. You push it in, slowly, until it's all in. He groans louder, you moan higher.

You start going up and down with his help, he's holding your hips and guiding your moves. Up and down, side to side, front to back. Moves that just make it feel amazing.

You keep kissing, swallowing each other's moans that are louder and louder each time. He kisses your neck, or more like attacks it with kisses, licks and bites that leave marks behind.

"Fuck, Eddie!" that's all you can say, a variation of profanities and his name. But he loves it and drives him crazier than anything else.

He grabs your hips harder holding you in place and starts bucking his thrusts upwards hitting your spot even harder.

"Eddie! Oh, fuck!"

"Princess, fuck, you make me go feral. I fucking love you so -mghh" his voice is groaning and he the only thing he can think of is harder, faster.

You start playing with your clit and he's mesmerized by the sight. Your pussy swallowing him and taking every inch of his fat cock, your puffy and wet clit being played with by your tiny and delicate fingers. He moans louder.

You watch his pretty face, he's checks are red and a slight layer of sweat is making his skin shiny, his mouth is opened in a rounded position, and his eyes are fighting to stay open just so he could watch you.

"Yes baby, play with your clit, fuck you're so wet you're dripping onto my lap, so fucking tight"

Your other hand placed on his shoulder starts grabbing harder pushing your nails into his skin. Your moans are incontrollable.

"'m cuming!" you manage to say.

"Yes please, cum for me, cum on my cock, make a bigger mess baby" he begs and it makes you cum right there with a scream. He keeps fucking into you. "I'm almost there, sweetheart, oh fuck I'm-"

He groans against the skin of your shoulder, grabbing your hips even harder, leaving the marks of his fingerprints. He stops moving once all of his cum is inside of you.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Eddie helps you to the couch and takes care of cleaning you up.

“Now every time you wear those boots, I’m gonna get hard” you laugh at his joke.

“I’m gonna wear them often, then” you joke now.

“I’m sorry for being a dick today, I shouldn’t have ignored you like I did” he states. “It’s just I’m running out of ideas and I have the campaign is in three days and I feel like everything I have so far is shit”

“It’s fine Eds, I’m just worried about you, I don’t want you to overexert yourself” you explain. “I know you’re against postponing the campaigns but maybe you should consider it. They would understand… and if they don’t I’m gonna have a talk with them”

In the end, Eddie did postpone it for next week. Gareth and Mike were the only ones who got mad, but after Dustin had talked to them, they finally understood.

Dustin had been worried about Eddie too, noticing how stressed he got every time the campaign was mentioned, and was the first one to defend his dungeon master before you even had the chance.

You helped Eddie write the campaign. You read what he had so far and realized you were right from the start, he was overthinking it. But you helped him change the things he didn’t like and helped him with the ending. Finally the campaign was held on Monday, so didn’t waste any more time.

[klausysworld]

would u be down to write Klaus x vampire hunter? I need that forbidden love angst and all that goodness!! I also may have seen a Buffy the vampire slayer post and couldn’t stop thinking about a Klaus x slayer relationship 🤔

Plot twist? She ends up getting pregnant!?!? I just need the juicy stuff loool

(this is gonna be a multiple part story FOR SURE! I can't lie I've had a very similar idea/scenario running through my head for the past few weeks so i'm really glad someone really wanted this too! The only reason it'll be multiple parts is so that it's easier to read and so that i'm able to add the build up how i imagined :))

Love is never simple

(Part 2 here)

Y/n was the first born daughter to Grayson and Miranda Gilbert.

When Y/n was born they had only very recently claimed Elena as their own, passing the two babies off as twins to those they knew. Fraternal of course for they were definitely not similar not for their looks nor their behaviour.

Elena was a mommy’s girl, she wanted to dress up and be the princess: have her hair and nails done, go shopping with her friends Caroline and Bonnie.

Meanwhile Y/n was more curious. She liked to follow her father, learn from his actions. She still spent time with the girls but given the choice to run around a field and swing a bat then she wouldn’t say no.

One day Miranda was unable to pick up the two girls from school, they were only young and couldn’t get a lift home. Grayson came straight from work and took the girls back there with him. Elena did as she was told, stayed in the designated room and wrote in her diary. Y/n decided to sneak after her father, wondering down a cold staircase to a dungeon of sorts. Men were walking with purpose in lab coats and barking orders at weak, pale beings in cells.

She could see card shot glasses filled with a deep red liquid laid out in rows on a tray. She held onto the railing of the stairs and watched as, who she assumed to be sick people, begged for the cups. Eventually they were given the small dosage, dark veins travelled down their eyes to their cheeks and sharp teeth poked into their lower lips.

A hint of fear swirled within her eyes, confusion and fascination. Something was wrong with these people. She peered closer, accidentally drawing the attention of one of the patients. His eyes narrowed before a small, cruel smile formed on his lips. It barely lasted a second before Y/n was harshly grabbed by the upper arm, causing a shriek to leave her as her head whipped round to see her fathers alarmed face staring back at her

“Y/n!” He yelled “you do not come down here!” Grayson hurriedly lifted her up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind him. “Where’s Elena? Is she still in the office?” He questioned in a panic and Y/n nodded quickly

“She stayed- I’m sorry Daddy- i just wanted to see” she whispered and he sighed, placing her down onto her feet and kissed her forehead.

“It’s not safe for you there” he warned

“What was wrong with those people?” She asked quietly and he clenched his jaw

“They’re not people Y/n…” he murmured “they’re…monsters…they just dress up as people”

They both looked at each-other trying to figure out what the other was thinking

“Dressed up?” She questioned curiously and he clicked his tongue

“Yes…see y/n, they aren’t humans. They just want you to believe that they are, they’re dangerous and it’s part of my job to stop them…to help real people be safe” he explained and she nodded

“You cure them?” She tilted her head, she knew her father was a doctor. Perhaps by stopping them he would make them people instead of monsters.

“If only that were a thing my little y/n….these beasts cannot be cured. Do you remember last summer when there was that…mountain lion on the loose?” He asked her and she nodded with a puzzled smile. “Well that creature hurt people, sent them to heaven…and because of that, the lion had to be put to rest” he told her and she nodded, viscous animals were put down, she knew that. “These beasts, they’re just like that lion. They’re viscous and they won’t ever be tame…they won’t ever feel love. They just want to hurt people.” He whispered, his eyes conveying passion as he spoke of the monsters.

“So you put them down?” She murmurs and he nods

“That’s right” he confirmed and she nodded back at him.

“Because they deserve it?” She utters and he smiled

“Exactly y/n, exactly”

And that was the start of a very twisted childhood.

Miranda was furious when she found out that Y/n had seen the Augustine vampires. They yelled all through the night, their angry voices sounding through the house which resulted in a frightened Elena and a crying Jeremy to climb into Y/n’s bed, all huddling together, looking to y/n for protection.

The next morning nobody spoke a word of the previous day. They ate breakfast, Grayson kissed the heads of each of his children and went of to work. Miranda got them all ready for school and dropped them off before going to work.

The system repeated itself until Y/n stepped out of line again. Tyler Lockwood had shoved Jeremy into a wall and called him names, Y/n wasn’t nearly as big as Tyler but threw punches just as hard. By the time the teacher had separated the two, both Grayson and Miranda were at the school beyond worried.

The school recommended Y/n went to a child’s psychologist to catch her anger management issues earlier rather than later. The same message was passed onto the Lockwoods.

But Grayson didn’t see a troubled little girl when he looked at his daughter, he saw someone strong, a fighter, a hunter.

With many disagreements and arguments, Miranda demanded that neither Y/n or Elena and Jeremy would ever be faced with the supernatural life as long as they were alive.

Grayson however didn’t listen. When Miranda took Elena out and Jeremy was at a friends, he would bring Y/n back to the vampires.

He showed her brain scans of a vampires brain vs a humans brain. He showed her a sociopaths and a psychopaths. He taught her what they had learnt, how a vampire thinks. How it behaves and why. He had her taking multiple self defence classes a week as well as personal training where she was allowed to used weapons, stakes.

On her 14th birthday, when everyone was getting ready for bed, Grayson came back into her room and gave her a box. Inside the box was a dagger, a very special dagger. One she had seen drawings of, heard stories of. And with it came the promise that one day she would get to use it.

Y/n was given weekly lessons on vampire history, all the way back to the originals.

By the age of 16 she was searching for them. For him. She wanted to see the one and only Niklaus Mikaelson. Supposedly the most ruthless, most dangerous and most powerful creature to walk the planet? The one who was supposed to kill her very very own sister.

Grayson didn’t approve of her wanting to seek him. He agreed with almost everything she did but not that. He couldn’t risk Klaus. Y/n could fight off a vampire, she was even able to kill a ripper while it was in a frenzy, but an original hybrid? At 16? He couldn’t guarantee that.

So she left in the night. She was gone four full days and nights before she returned. Miranda was in tears and begged her to never leave them again. Elena was angry and Jeremy felt betrayed. But Grayson could tell that Y/n had exactly what she wanted. She knew what Klaus Mikaelson looked like.

And when she placed a photograph of the beasts face on the table beside his glass, he knew he had successfully created a true vampire hunter.

Y/n had boards drawn, hidden from her siblings and mother and only accessible to herself. They held the locations of vampire nests, werewolf packs and witch covens all over the US. She began to form connections with witches. Shiela Bennet, Grams, was aware of Y/n’s involvement and although she wanted nothing more than to stay out of vampire business, she knew Y/n was in too deep to back out and she would protect that girl. She helped her get in touch with other witches, warned her of the witch trials that took place, where a hundred spirits would support her. In return Y/n promised to protect Bonnie, to never take advantage of her and to try her best to keep her away from vampires.

Everything was smooth for a while until that tragic night. One slip in the road and the car was in the water. Y/n had kicked and punched with everything in her to break the windows open, to save Elena, her mother and her father. But she watched as the life drained from their eyes, she watched as Elena tried to tell her how much she loved her. And then, in what she thought would be her last moment, she saw a figure force the door open with a supernatural strength. A vampire, Stefan Salvatore, saved both girls that night.

Y/n didn’t know what to think.

She understood that maybe he saved Elena because of the doppelgänger history that she had learnt of over the years. But she never understood why he would save her too.

Y/n had searched on Stefan before, the ripper. To say she was disgusted was an understatement, but now he was acting as though he was nothing more than a bunny muncher? Lies. There was darkness within him, waiting to be let free. He would kill them all. She was sure of it.

So sure that she broke into his house, only to find his brother Damon already there nursing a glass of bourbon. She observed the two brothers as they through each other from the window and hissed like feral cats. Like a mountain lion.

Damon didn’t even bother to hide his darkness, he was a monster in her eyes. Clear as the moon amongst the stars.

But before she could get her hands on the right stake, Grams was at her door

“Y/n, child, you mustn’t” she warned and Y/n frowned

“I will not have two vampires in our town, ruining my family.” She snapped back and Shiela shook her head

“Child, please” she begged “you have to trust me, trust me that you will need them” she whispered urgently

“Why would anyone need a vampire?” She sneered and Grams grabbed her hand

“Just believe” she uttered “they will not touch you, I can guarantee that not a hair on your head-“

“I don’t care if they hurt me, they will hurt Elena- Jeremy- Jenna-“ she listed, taking a pause before looking Grams in the eye “they will destroy Bonnie”

“You know I wouldn’t put her in danger, they will come and go. The older one of here for one thing, once he has it he will leave and the younger is nothing more than a nuisance” she tried to encourage but Y/n only shook her head

“You know that would be the easiest thing to believe. But they are not made to make friends, they are not here because they feel anything other than hunger. Hunger for blood and hunger for power. Your power, Bonnie’s power.” She threatened

“Y/n, you must trust me just this once. We will rid ourselves of these demons but we must do it right so that we do not become the monsters we fear”

And so with much reluctance, Y/n waited and watched.

She didn’t reveal any of her intentions, she just stayed quiet.

Even when the vampires escaped the tomb, she didn’t make herself known. When Grams died it broke something inside Y/n but it also made her stronger, she knew she had to protect her family, the Gilbert’s, the Bennett’s.

Not even the council knew she was in on it all. Grayson never told a soul outside of the Augustine community so that Miranda never found out. She helped of course, but at the end of the day when she watched Stefan and Elena beg for Bonnie to let them save Damon…Y/n just couldn’t decide where she stood. In that moment she froze, she watched Bonnie Bennet help a vampire and it confused her beyond belief.

And she witnessed it time and time again.

How could this happen? How could everyone in that godforsaken town so easily submit to those animals?

It was Damon who finally caught onto Y/n, noticing the pure disgust on her face when a vampire entered the room. The way she looked at Caroline after she turned, the inner battle she faced when Caroline cried like a child and begged Y/n to tell her everything would be okay.

He eavesdropped on Y/n’s conversation with Caroline’s mother, Liz. It was after Mason had outed the Salvatores and they were waiting for the vervain to leave her system.

“She isn’t my daughter anymore Y/n” she whispered and Y/n just stared back at the wall

“No?” She questioned slightly

“She’s a monster- my little girl is…my little girl is gone” she uttered, tears brimming in her eyes and Y/n’s thoughts stirred

“Gone” she repeated “it’s just a monster…dressed as Caroline?” She mused and Liz let out a sob

“How could this happen? They killed my baby” she cried over and over but Y/n remained emotionless. She wasn’t expecting Damon to be back yet, she wasn’t aware of the way he looked at her. The tilt of his head and the narrowing of his eyes. The shock he felt when he heard the question slip from her mouth

“Will you kill her?”

Liz looked up at Y/n, horrified to an extent as she slowly shook her head “I couldn’t…” she breathed and Y/n nodded in understanding

“Would you…would you have someone else kill her?” She asked quietly and Liz sat up a little straighter, looking at Y/n almost quizzically

“I…don’t know” she whispered “should I?”

That was the biggest question Y/n had. Where was the line drawn? The line between right and wrong, the line between human and monster.

Silence hung over them and Damon watched as Y/n pondered the idea, he could see the way her eyes glistened as she thought over the idea of tearing Caroline’s heart out and then he saw the guilt settle in and the confusion take over again.

“Maybe” she mumbled “maybe Caroline is truly gone. Maybe now she is just a hollow shell of who she is supposed to be and a violent, vicious animal” she stated unfazed “but then what if she’s still your baby girl? What if she’s everything she was and more? What if she’s…better” she whispered, a glint in her eye.

Liz couldn’t give and answer, neither of them could. Neither of them ever would.

By the time Y/n left, Liz was almost asleep.

Damon seized Y/n’s arm as she walked toward the front door and attempted to pin her to the wall only to be knocked off his feet and kicked straight in the gut. His hand automatically grabbed ahold of her ankle and twisted but nothing more than a grunt left her as she grabbed something, a glass, and smashed it against the side of his head. He let out a growl and lunged for her throat but her hand was in his chest in seconds. They both stayed completely still as she held is heart still inside his body, his fangs on display and pain clear in his expression.

A silent stare down happened before Y/n squeezed at his heart and forced a surrender out of him. Once she let go they both crawled away from the other and sat on the floor, facing the other with a contemplating look.

Eventually he spoke, “what are you?” He questioned and she scoffed

“Human” she stated as though he were stupid

“It isn’t human instinct to rip someone’s heart out” he raised a brow and she sighed

“Well maybe not every human but when we have things like you living in our town-“

“Things like me?” He laughed “oh you really aren’t who I thought you were” he grinned a grin of disbelief and stared up at the ceiling. “You think all vampires are monsters?” He murmured, glancing to her

“I’m not sure anymore” she mumbled and he hummed, his brows furrowing

“So…me…Stefan and Caroline are the demons and you? You’re a little angel?” He mocks and she rolls her eyes

“Nobody said or implied that” she sighed and he squinted his eyes

“So then what?”

“I don’t know.” She stated, angrier.

The both went quiet for a moment until Stefan walked in. His eyes were wide and confused. Both Damon and Y/n looked to each other, a look that said they needed to keep this quiet.

“What the-“

“Caroline thought I was gonna hurt Liz, she threatened me by grabbing my heart” Damon lied, a sarcastic smirk on his face which made the situation much more believable. “Y/n stayed to watch Liz, didn’t you?” He glared and she nodded

“Yeah, course, anything to help” she smiled and Stefan slowly nodded. Something wasn’t right but he knew he shouldn’t ask.

And from there stemmed an odd and twisted friendship.

Damon liked to purposefully annoy Y/n, see what made her angry enough to the point where she would hurt him. He wanted to know why she was so strongly against vampires. He wanted to know where she went when she disappeared.

Because disappearing wasn’t uncommon for Y/n, since those days when she hunted down Klaus Mikaelson. The beast who was supposed to be impossible to find but clearly wasn’t trying very hard to hide. Since then she would disappear for a week every couple of months, release her built up anger and hatred for the supernatural by going to a vampire nest and seeing how many she could take on at a time.

Between stakes, wooden bullets and enchanted blades she did very well.

She would return, any wounds wrapped in bandages and nobody would ask, Elena and Jeremy had come accustomed to it. They would hug her, thank her for coming back in one piece and she would promise to never leave without coming back.

Damon however would dance circles around her: “where were you?” “Why do you smell of blood” “what did you do?”

One day she snapped at him and told him she killing of leeches like him. She proceeded to stake him through the stomach and leave him on floor before going up to bed.

That was how Stefan found out. He witnessed the scene and very cautiously raised his hands in surrender when she stomped past him on the stairs.

Damon and Stefan had many conversations on it but nothing ever came of them.

Actually a sort of alliance was formed between the three, nobody tells Elena or anyone for that matter that Y/n is a vampire hunter and Y/n will help behind the scenes when needed.

It worked well.

When Elena and Caroline were taken by the wolves, Y/n killed more of those dogs than Stefan Damon combined.

When Elena was kidnapped by Rose and Trevor for Elijah, she had seen it happen and tracked them before anyone else realised they were missing. She waited patiently in the shadows for Elijah to arrive. She already knew so much about him and it was a dream of sorts to see him so close. She had the dagger of course but she wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. Looking at the situation, his tone and the look in his eyes, he didn’t seem to carry any untoward intentions with Elena and if Y/n were honest she wanted to take Elijah down to Augustine. She wanted to scan the originals brain, test his blood to see if he were different to the others.

But when Elijah continued to smack Trevors head clean off and grab Elena in a painful hold, she couldn’t just stand by. A stake was thrown strain into the top of his spine, temporarily paralysing the original and causing him to let out a sharp cry of pain and anger. Elena turned to face Y/n in shock, confusion and relief. Damon and Stefan moved as soon as Y/n did and tackled Elijah unto the others presumed him dead. Y/n however collected a small sample of his blood before they left.

She returned home with the others, explaining to Elena the best she could about how she got to be who she was. About their father’s secret vampire hunting job, leaving out the Augustine side to the story as she knew Elena would not approve and Damon, Stefan and Caroline would be appalled.

Everything was different from then, Elena seeked more support in Y/n like she used to do when they were younger and Y/n guarded Elena with her life. Even when Elena was determined to sacrifice herself, hand herself over to Klaus, Y/n was there.

Y/n could feel her heart in her throat when Elijah stood in-front of her, two hearts in his hands from the vampires that were here for the doppelgänger. He gave a her a strange looked, confused as to who she was before he noticed the way Elena hid behind her and Damon grabbed at her wrist. He vanished into thin air and Y/n went on edge.

She slept in Elena’s room or had Elena in her own. She dug back through her original’s knowledge and information, pages and pages worth of history and myths. Sketches of Klaus’s face and the daggers. A small figure, hand carved by Klaus himself and made of white oak which she had stolen and kept hidden away. But then she remembered what she had learnt from the witches she had conversed with.

Killing one original would wipe out every vampire of that sireline.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Kill Klaus and the Salvatores, kill Caroline? Her childhood friend? Destroy her bond with her sister and be left alone?

She hid the white oak away and decided on presenting Damon with the mystical dagger and white oak ash. He immediately took to the idea while Stefan was hesitant but after another week of Elijah proving to be nothing but a threat in their eyes, he found himself as close to death as he could be in the cellar of the Salvatore’s.

But then Klaus showed up, we’ll sort of.

He had taken over Alaric and assumed they would all be too stupid to notice.

But Y/n could sense something. And he didn’t like the way she was looking at him, a calculated and curious look. She knew he couldn’t question her, that would be confirming her theory. So she just waited and watched. Klaus couldn’t help but feel a little nervous when she narrowed her eyes and glanced toward Elena.

When he finally revealed himself and attacked the girls in the school, Y/n was already in the cellar and forcing Elijah up the stairs.

“You’re fucked up brother is here, wake the fuck up” she yelled as his fingers slowly twitched to life. She threw blood bags at him, watching him drain them in seconds through coughing and groaning.

Once he came to he tried to have her by the throat only to be smacked back by the invisible force of the doorway. She held the dagger threateningly at him until he calmed down and took a step back to compose himself.

They grabbed Elena ASAP and got to talking.

It was another couple days before she actually saw Klaus in his true form. Y/n had just stepped into the grill, ready to yell at Damon for force feeding her his blood when she noticed the dirty blonde, blue eyed vampire stood with a glass of scotch in his hand and a cruel smirk on his face. She swiftly weaved her way through the grill and to a booth in the corner to watch the interaction.

Klaus finished threatening Damon, walked all the way to the door and paused. He could feel himself being watched, his head turned in her direction, his eyes locked onto hers and his brows pulled together with a hint of confusion. He watched as Damon noticed Y/n and called her name, drawing her attention and beckoning her over. Klaus left with her on his mind.

She was soon forgotten when he completed his ritual, was faced with his brothers betrayal and then set free.

He then left with Stefan, unaware that Y/n knew exactly where they were all of the time. Following them, tracking them, hunting them.

She watched as they moved from the road to motels, to diners to hotels to dodgy alleyways to drain helpless humans, to houses to slaughter petrified people.

And while they slept she would break into their hotel rooms, seeing how long it would take to wake the beast. She rummaged through his duffle bag of clothes and papers. She flipped through his sketch books, seeing what new things he had added since the last time she looked. She made her own copies of his maps, marking the same places as he had to know where he would be going next to find the werewolves. It was amusing to her that the reason he struggled to find them was because she had helped kill a proportion of them over the past few years.

Klaus could always feel like someone was watching him but he wasn’t sure if it was actually there or just his paranoia so he never thought too much of it. She was always hidden when he looked over his shoulder anyway.

What he didn’t know was that sometimes she would slip a concentrated doses of ketamine into his and Stefan’s drinks when he wasn’t looking to ensure he would sleep through the night. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to have a nightmare.

She had been in Klaus’s room, transferring all the data from his phone over to her laptop so she could track is messaged and phone calls when he began muttering. She ignored him and waited for it to load but he began to get louder so she stood up, a little worried he would wake. But when his breathing turned rapid and his mumbled became cries for help in fear she started to understand. He was in the middle of a nightmare and the ketamine refused to let him wake.

Hesitantly she came over to his sleeping form, placing a hand on his shoulder which his shook off.

“Shhh” she hushed quietly, not wanting anyone else in the motel to wake. “It’s okay” she whispered but he wouldn’t shut up. He just wouldn’t stop screaming, begging for the wolves to let go of someone- Henrik.

Y/n pulled the covers off him, leaving him in only his boxers. His skin was covered in sweat as he struggled against his own mind. She gently rubbed her hands over his chest, trying to soothe him with physical touch. She whispered kind words to him as she smoothed her fingers over his skin to his face, petting him gently and calming him back to a more settled sleep. His face turned to press his cheek into her palm and she sighed, relieved.

Carefully she pulled away and grabbed her laptop which now had all of his information. She placed everything back when she found it and left, locking the door and moving into Stefan’s room.

Klaus could faintly remember the feel of hands on his body, such soft skin on his. He could remember her soothing voice as she told him to breath and relax. He could still feel her fingers in his hair when he closed his eyes.

Stefan almost always knew that Y/n had been there, he could always smell her perfume. Plus sometimes she would leave him little notes to let him know she was with him.

What wasn’t planned was for Klaus to actually find Ray. She was torn between staying with Klaus or following Stefan when Stefan promised to get rid of Damon, who was searching for him as he assumed Y/n was glad to be rid of the two monsters.

Y/n only stayed because Stefan had spotted her in the bar and mouthed for her to stay, that he would be back.

So she stayed and observed. Watched as Klaus threw vervain-dipped-darts into the man’s body with a smirk on his face. It was creatures like him that she reminded her of why she killed. Why she was apart of Augustine.

So she ordered a drink for him, had the waiter tell him a girl had gotten payed for it and watched as he grinned, flattered and looked around for her. He didn’t spot her as she hid herself behind the bar, he shrugged anyways and took the drink in one gulp. His eyes went wide instantly as the liquid quite literally burned through his throat, a mixture of vervain and wolvesbane in his system. He angrily looked around for the culprit but she was out the door in seconds and in her car.

Once he came back outside, Stefan was back and Ray was unconscious.

She followed them to the mountains and followed at a safe distance, stakes and wolvesbane grenades ready. She stayed low and far enough away, occasionally climbing into trees to watch as he snapped each wolves neck.

She watched in boredom as he failed, she already knew why he wasn’t successful. The witches had already told her Esther’s plan. The double curse.

Cruel but necessary.

She watched his tantrum and then she watched as they both dragged themselves back down to the car.

Following them to Chicago was a low point for her. She had dozens of cans of red bulls and protein bars in her car and had been listening to the same list of songs for months. Klaus’s messages were dryer than a dessert and Stefan was losing his spark. He was losing what made him special, the reason she began to trust a vampire. He was proving that all vampires were beasts.

Thankfully for Y/n, she had already met Gloria in the past. So when Y/n came into the bar after Klaus and Stefan had left and explained the situation, Gloria was happy to let Y/n stay with her in the apartment above the bar for a few days. Without Klaus’s knowledge of course.

She was also happy to let Y/n sit and watch the security cameras whilst Klaus and Stefan were downstairs. In return Y/n offered Gloria a favour, whether it be an ingredient to a spell or the death of another supernatural. Either way it didn't bother Y/n, she was just as happy to do either. if anything she craved to kill a vampire, it was her release and this trip was nothing but a bore for her so far.

It became slightly more interesting when Klaus woke his sister; Rebekah. watching them whine at each other was somewhat amusing but it also reminded her of Elena and Jeremy. She had never been away from home for more than two weeks and these past few months had been isolating and lonely.

What definitely sparked her attention however was when they began talking of Elena's necklace. She bit at her finger tips as she watched Stefan's dreadful attempt at behaving oblivious and the way Gloria's eyes darkened when she glanced toward him. y/n knew this would not end well. she was 100% certain that Klaus or Rebekah would figure out what was wrong and so she left with a head start.

She had Damon on the phone in minutes, bag packed and on the road.

"They know Elena's alive and by they i mean Klaus and his wacko sister, that's right another crazy original bloodsucker is coming to town! Get Elena, get Bonnie and get out!" she yelled down the phone as she drove way past the limit.

"woah woah woah, what? Y/n is this a joke? I'm not in town!" Damon whisper shouted back, clearly frustrated

"where the fuck are you?" she borderline growled

"I'm.... I'm with Katherine" he sighed, knowing the pissed off expression she would have on her face in that moment

"Well I'm in traffic! So get home, get Elena back ALIVE and then say goodbye to you dick because I'm gonna chop it off!" she screamed down the phone at him before abruptly ending the call and coming to a standstill as dozens of cars in front of her come to a halt. She clicked the radio on only to be told that a crash had happened a few miles ahead of her. Y/n smacked her head against the horn of her car and groaned loudly.

Klaus must've taken a diversion because she returned late into the night, Stefan was home with zero humanity and an angry blonde bitch. klaus was missing again and Elena was crying in her bed. Y/n laid with her until they both fell asleep.

The next morning Y/n, Elena, Jeremy, Caroline and Damon were piled into the Gilbert's kitchen. They figured out Tyler was sired/Y/n told them that it was obvious. Together they agreed that getting Mikael would be a good idea. Y/n didn't want him to kill Klaus, although it would have probably been the best thing for her. However she did want him to scare Klaus away at least for a while.

The problem was getting Rebekah to agree but Y/n already knew just the secret to spill to get her attention. It was pure luck that the creatures from 'the other side' were able to cross the barrier and that mason revealed the symbols. Y/n decided it would be better if Damon thought that Klaus killing his own mother was discovered by him instead of Y/n. And she thought it would be better if Elena spoke to Rebekah over herself. Y/n didn't really want to form any kind of relationship with the originals if they were going to be here any longer. Especially not Rebekah, she was too girly and obnoxious for Y/n.

So she let the plan fall out. She played her part, even let Caroline dress her up for homecoming just to make her happy. Afterall if Mikael did end up killing Klaus then Caroline would die too and Y/n would rather she went out on a high.

Everything was going fine, she even had a conversation with Mikael himself. He was rather impressed with her actually, he could recognise a vampire hunter within miles.

They then went to the gym, got redirected to the Tyler's, weird but whatever. And then Klaus made his appearance, reclaimed homecoming as a wake and effectively ruined everyone's night.

Y/n tried to cruise through the evening, keeping to herself and drinking shitty punch. She was pretty happy with just waiting until Katherine, posing as Elena pulled Y/n aside and let her in on what she and Stefan were gonna do. Well not everything they would do but that they planned to save Klaus because the hybrids would kill Damon. Y/n reluctantly agreed, much to Katherine's surprise if she were honest but she took the win.

Y/n then returned to the 'part' in annoyance and relief, that familiar confusion settling over her as she grabbed a real drink and stood to the side of the crowds.

Unfortunately for her, Klaus had spotted her and taken her loneliness as an invitation to approach her. and what was even more unfortunate was that Stefan was glaring straight at her, warning her not to fuck this up.

So she looked back to Klaus with an awkward smile. She knew her body was tense and she could feel her fingers twitch with the urge to defend herself. His power radiated like heat. She just knew Augustine would kill to have him in their facilities.

"Y/n, isn't it?" Klaus questioned knowingly.

"mhm" she mumbled, unsure how to behave.

"why are you all alone?" he asked, his eyes flicking up and down the length of her body, lingering on her cleavage without shame.

"I don't like people" she stated simply and he let out a chuckle.

"Ah I understand that" he smiled but she shifted a step away from him which he noticed but didn't comment on though his smile did drop, it was common for people to distance themselves from him. "you know things aren't going to end well tonight" he warned, his voice quiet but clear

"I'm aware" she mumbled, glancing to where Tyler was dragging an annoyed Caroline toward the house

"Then you should really make better decisions about who you side with, sweetheart. You're strong, and smart. I could tell that from the first time seeing you, it didn't take you 5 minutes to figure out that I wasn't Alaric" he murmured to her, his tone changing from threatening to proud though his face remained neutral.

She said nothing in response, she didn't know what he wanted her to do so she just stared back at him, watching his jaw clench and unclench as he watched and waited for her to come to some sort of answer. He knew that realistically he wouldn't received one but he hoped that she would be intelligent enough to at least take his words into consideration. Klaus liked her, he liked that she was observant and that she had the common sense that everyone else in the town didn't have, to stay out the way. If he were honest, he would have liked her to have been on his 'team', he imagined that she probably had a lot of untold knowledge just waiting to be put to use.

If he only knew the half of it.

Klaus was too buried in his thoughts to notice how Y/n's eyes focused on someone behind him, Damon, who mouthed that he needed 10 minutes before Mikael to get there and that Klaus needed to be occupied.

Y/n could have smacked him when she gave him a look as if to ask what to do and he acted out a dance scene. Her eyes flicked between Klaus and past his shoulder, and then just as Klaus let out a sigh and took a step back she cleared her throat and mentally stabbed herself

"Dance with me?" she offered, her hand very unwillingly lifting out for him to take. His brows shot up but he accepted with little hesitation.

She bit at her own tongue to keep her expressions at bay. Almost everything in her wanted to shove him off, stab him, stake him, behead him. She could feel the vervain syringe she had brought with her in the hidden pockets of her dress, she so desperately wanted to weaken him, kill him.

But no, instead she had a half vampire/half werewolf with his hand on her waist and the other holding her own. His werewolf side made his touch warm, almost like a human's. Slowly her hand went to his shoulder, lightly touching the expensive material of his suit jacket.

Her eyes found his awaiting blue ones, she didn't like how they seemed so deep, they reminded her of Damons. They were those obvious blue eyes, they could be beautiful some of the time and terrifying other times. They were the sort of eyes you could fall into, the kind you could swim in, the ones you would lose yourself in and never find a way out.

It was for that reason that she looked away from them and instead glanced around, taking in the music and the people. There were so many people, it didn't take a genius to guess that most of them were with Klaus, hybrids. She hoped this would be the last time she would touch him, be this close to him but deep down she knew better.

She could feel him pull her a little closer so that his cologne engulfed her, the scent was rich and her inhale for a second too long. She could sense Klaus's smirk in response but refused to acknowledge it. Hopefully someone would come get him soon.

Until then, however, she was to stay in the arms of the beast.

He wirled and twirled her around, doing whatever he could to entice a smile or a laugh from her. Klaus knew many dances from over the centuries, some slow and some fast. Some much more erotic than others and he took great pleasure and amusement in changing between them until a melodic laugh was buzzing through the air. His arms held her close as he brought them low and high, round and round. He spun her one last time before dipping her. Her breathing calmed and her laughs faded as she because aware of how his body pressed to hers, how his arms supported her and how close his face was to hers. The warm air from his mouth fanned over her face and the words she needed to say got trapped in her throat.

Thankfully a women cleared her throat which gained Klaus's attention.

"What is it, I'm busy?" he huffed as he lifted Y/n to stand by herself. He frowned when her touch left him and she moved away, a look of self disgust scrunching up her pretty face.

"Someone's here for you... he says his names Mikael" She told him, unbothered by his angry tone.

His demeanour changed in a second . That familiar coldness returning, it reminded Y/n of the vampires she'd seen with no humanity though it was a little different. She wasn't sure what was different about it but something was.

Either way she didn't like it.

And so by the time Klaus had turned around to apologise to Y/n for the interruption, she was out of sight. He sighed and shook his head before going to end his father.

Y/n proceeded to go sit in Katherine's car, turning the engine on and the radio as she waited for the inside to heat up. She was patiently waiting for the doppelgänger and Stefan to arrive and as soon as they were in the car, her foot was down and they were speeding into the night.

Ripper Stefan and Katherine Pierce were the two worst vampires for Y/n to be around. She wanted them dead, they deserved to die. She wished Klaus had died to his sireline went too. She really did...until she remembered that Elena would be broken. Family would always be more important than anything else.

So when Katherine and Stefan started talking about a way to get revenge on Klaus, she left. She went home and to bed so that she wasn't on 'the wrong side'.

Y/n didn't want to be on any of their sides. She didn't want to be in support of any supernaturals.

Which is why she hated to admit that she had some sort of weird friendship to Damon Salvatore who had been relentlessly teasing her on what he witnessed at the homecoming.

"Oh you should have seen them Elena, for a moment it was like I was in Spain watching salsa dancing and the next I was back in the 1800s" He laughed and Y/n lobbed a dart at him

"You wanted him distracted" she grumbled and he grinned while Elena rolled her eyes

"There's distracting and there's seducing" Damon chuckled

"Hey! He started the whole-"

"The whole what love?" Klaus's voice sounded from behind the trio. It was cold and sharp like the icy wind of the winter. He didn't appreciate being played with let alone mocked, especially when she had asked him too dance. Whether it were apart of a plan or not, she could have done something else for his attention. Throwing a drink on his would have taken him a good few minutes to rage about before changing his outfit but she chose a dance.

"Nothing" she answered, standing and walking away from them all, over to the farthest point of the bar so that she couldn't here what they were saying. 'No involvement' she would warm herself.

She knew they were talking about Stefan from the defensive stances the pair were taking but she didn't want to know why, not even for a second.

And she hoped and hoped that Klaus would just leave after his little threats but of course he had to hover.

A drink was placed infront of her and a hand spun her round on the bar stool forcing her to face the beast once again. "Afternoon sweetheart, lovely to see you again after our little moment. You could even call it a date" the sarcasm was clear but the words alone made her nose wrinkle up.

"I'd prefer you didn't" she mumbled and he hummed

"well I'd prefer a lot of things so I suppose we're all unhappy. Now, where's Stefan hm? I know you had something to do with last night, I witnessed you talking suspiciously quietly with Katerina." He placed a threatening hand on her upper arm and both Damon and Elena stood from their places, worry on their faces as they saw a darkness swirl inside Y/n's eyes. "Where is Stefan, and where had he put my family?"

Y/n let out a laugh, she couldn't help it.

"He took the originals?" she questioned, covering her mouth as hiccups of laughter threatened to escape. Damon headed over fast, muttering to Elena to get it the car. He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and let out a nervous chuckle, looking to Y/n with wide eyes but she couldn't stop giggling.

"She's just...going through something right now" He smiled fakely and pulled her out of her seat, holding his own hand over her mouth making her shove him off out of reflex, her voice aggressive as she began to yell

"Get the fuck off you filthy-" she cut herself off when she noticed multiple people staring at her with surprised expressions. Damon simply chuckled and grabbed her elbow, pulling her toward the door

"don't hit me" he whispered quietly as he pushed her through the door and toward the car.

Klaus watched the two in confusion and interest. He certainly hadn't expected her to switch up so fast and he definitely wanted to know what the end of her insult was supposed to be.

His curiosity grew when he went to the Salvatore's to try and see if maybe Stefan was there only to find Damon and Y/n with a supernatural board, pictures and names written with strings running from the to different information.

"God if you and your fucked up brother just pissed off instead of following Elena around like the hungry mosquitoes you are then everything would be sunshine and daisies" Y/n complained and Damon rolled his eyes as he linked Stefan to the originals via some red wool.

"What and you would have carried on hunting and slaughtering vampires while Jeremy, Elena and Jenna would obliviously move on with their lives and eventually Elena would have settled down with good ol' Matt Donovon?" he mocked and Klaus's brows furrowed.

"Sounds better than my life right now" she mumbled and Damon rolled his eyes

"Surely this is every crazy vampire hunters dream?" he questioned "cmon think about it, you're surrounded by the oldest vampires, a famous ripper, hybrids and best of all...you got me?" he grinned and she groaned, dropping onto the couch.

"I know and it just makes me feel murderous all the time" she whined "and gross and contaminated" she gagged and he dramatically huffed.

"Come on, you can attack me" he offered with a playful glint and she let out a mocking 'ha ha'. "hey no come on, how about you get to stab me a few times and I get a shot of your blood?"

"Damon?"

"yes?"

"I would rather rip my own heart out then let a soulless , leech anywhere near my blood" she sneered and he laughed with a clap.

"How did it take me so long to realise you undying hatred for what was it?-my kind?" he raised his brows and she glared at him

"These past few months have done nothing but confirm my every belief. You and everyone like you are monsters" she whispered, enjoying how his expression faltered "unsavable, unloveable-"

"shut up" he uttered, veins appearing under his eyes making her lips curve up

"see? you can't even control yourself"

"says the girl who nearly lost it in the middle of the grill" he quipped before walking out and leaving her alone.

Klaus's mind was spinning with new knowledge. It made sense to him but he still wasn't exactly expecting it. Either way, he would find a way to put this to his advantage.

(Okay I'm going to make this part one and then from here Klaus and Y/n will have more time together and start to fall for one-another. I know this is a little different to my usual stories as I never usually give so much build up/back story but I had a lot of ideas and wanted to share those with you. So thanks for reading and I hope you loo forward to the next part/parts)

[haitani-maki]

Truth or Dare

English is not my first language so it may contain errors, sorry about that

All characters have 20+

Content +18 MDNI Fem!Reader

Next

After two long weeks of studying that felt like months, you finally got a few days off

Trying to take advantage of the weekend to get out of the house for a bit taking the face out of the books, you decided to go to your old neighbors' party. The Haitani brothers

You had already lost count of how many shots you drink that night

Your head was spinning slightly, your ideas were no longer so clear.

Your friend approaches “Take it easy, I don’t feel like carrying anyone drunk tonight”

"Hey!" You exclaim, noticing your voice more slurred than usual “I can handle it!”

She rolls her eyes at your response and before trying to stop you from drinking more, a circle of friends close to you draw attention and the two of you approach.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare?” Shion suggests

“I’m in” Kakucho replies

“Okay…” Rindou agrees

"Serious?" Ran asks with a bit of mockery

"I'm in!" You exclaimed excitedly.

"Me too!" Her friend and two other women agree

“I’m in too” Ran suddenly changed her mind

Rindou stares at him in confusion for a moment and Ran gives him a death glare.

"Right!" Shion takes the empty bottle and puts it in the middle of everyone while saying “The classic, I didn’t want to do the challenge or tell the truth, it’s a shot.”

“Let’s go” Rindou is the first to spin the bottle that stopped at Kakucho

“Truth or dare, Kakucho?"

"Truth"

“Is it true that you have already been dominated between four walls ?” Rindou asks smiling

The question surprises everyone

Kakucho closes his eyes for a second “Yes” he responds regretting having told this secret to the Haitani brothers

Before Shion could ask anything Kakucho interrupts him “Only one question” leaving the people around curious and pouting.

"My turn!" Your friend exclaims a little excitedly.

The bottle stopped at Rindou, and she spent the night drooling over him while he controlled the DJ booth, she was going to try her luck now

“Truth or dare, Rindou?”

“Truth” he responds, adjusting his glasses

“Tell two of your fetishes”

He smiles thinking for a moment “Ropes and deep throat”

“Interesting” Her friend responds making Rindou smile at her shameless flirting

“Okay, now it's me” one of the women in the circle exclaims as she spins the bottle falling towards you

"Truth or Dare?"

“I think you all scared, dare!”

The girl, not liking your comment, decided to play dirty “I dare you to choose someone to kiss” she smiles mockingly

Your eyes widen slightly and you shiver as you look around, but specifically one gaze catches you. His gaze seemed to pierce your soul, chills started running through your body, your breathing became irregular as you held his gaze, the desperation in his violet eyes mirrored your own, and him sitting next to you only intensified the situation

“I choose Ran.” You say, making the man with long two-tone hair raise an eyebrow and not be able to contain his smile.

"Are you sure?" The same girl asks you, giving you a deadly look

“Yes” you smile ignoring her look. You were partially excited about that, even though you exchanged more words with Rindou, you and the older Haitani had already seen each other a few times, you two always seemed to accidentally make eye contact whenever you saw each other in the hallway of the old building where you lived in.

Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, he leaned in and kissed you. A slow, hot kiss, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, you almost melted right then and there at the feeling of his soft lips against yours. Your hands slide to the back of Ran head as he brings his hands to your waist, the grip intensifying. Ran didn't shy from shoving his tongue in your mouth.

The pleasurable sensations you were feeling at that moment, causing a burning in your intimacy, which undoubtedly became soaked

The lascivious smile forming on Ran lips after pulling away from the kiss, made you turn your face in embarrassment.

"I thought you two were going to fuck right here, be careful not to fall in love Y/n" Kakucho says

“I'm fine, I've had better.” You challenge the bicolor, watching a vein pop on his forehead

The people around start teasing

“You haven't seen anything I can do yet, S/n.” He smiles, looking directly into your eyes “How can you say someone else did better?”

“Then show me?” You retort, raising an eyebrow

“Hey, hey, go to the room” Shion interrupts

Ran quickly wets his lips before breaking eye contact and returning his attention to the bottle

You do the same, completely ignoring the furious look the girl had on you. But he can barely focus on the next questions...

The game is interrupted with Rindou having to return to the DJ booth

The first girl walking away furious that she didn't get the older Haitani's attention and the other girl approaching Kakucho

You go to the kitchen to get another drink, still thinking about the feeling of Ran lips pressed against their, imagining what else he could do...

You come out of your daydreams when you see your friend flirting with Rindou from afar, a hand passing through the younger Haitani arm while his hand goes to the girl waist. You laugh when you see that scene...

Going up to the second floor looking for the bathroom, you are grateful that most people have already left, having quick access to the bathroom.

As you leave, you almost bump into Ran “Damn, what a scare!” You take a leap

“I’m not that ugly!” Ran chuckles at his own stupid joke.

"No! It's not that, it's just…” Ran bites her lip and you are temporarily mesmerized by such an act...

“Y/n, be honest”

"What?"

“You liked it, didn’t you?” Ran asks approaching you.

You blink a few times, feeling the cold wall on your back as Ran leans over you a little, resting a hand on the wall beside you.

“I think you know the answer”

“But I want to hear from you”

“Y-Yes” You blush and bite your lip, unable to face him.

Ran caresses your cheek, her gaze alternating between your eyes and your lips. You finally close the distance between you by joining your lips in a slow, hot kiss. The bicolor's hands go down to his waist, bringing their bodies even closer together, his hands slide to the back of his neck.

Ran's hands go down to his ass, squeezing it tightly, making you gasp during the kiss.

The touches, one body so close to the other, each new movement. Everything excited you, feeling your intimacy contract.

Ran hands go down to his thighs, pulling you up, you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling Ran member press against your intimacy.

Breaking the kiss due to lack of air, you feel his mouth on your neck sucking the sensitive skin, making you moan softly.

His kisses went up to his earlobe, lightly biting the area.

“I think we should go to my room” Ran whispers against your skin making you shiver

You nod frantically. Ran holds your waist tightly, bringing their bodies together and heading towards the bedroom. Bringing their lips together again, but this time in a wild and needy kiss.

©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate

[rafferty3207]

omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous. 

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.) 

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text. 

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-”  At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?” 

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?” 

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting. 

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down. 

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset,  I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off. 

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint. 

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes.  You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery. 

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs. 

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”  

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering.  You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile. 

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands. 

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online. 

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again. 

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

[aphroditeslover11]

Hi what do you think about a Neil Lewis with a actress reader? Like they met before and he has already a crush on her and then he watch movie and see her ?

Another tought (not q request just something in my head) so I'm from Göttingen, an we have here q tradition if someone has his PhD they have to kiss the Statue of the goose Maid ( "Gänseliesel") he is not common with this tradition and so when reader ask him when he is planning do the kiss he assumed she wanna that he kiss her

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking of. I’m not at my best at the moment so I’m sorry if there are any glaring errors. I hadn’t written for Neil before, but he’s actually very fun! Thanks for your request. Also, that is a fabulous tradition, it might get slotted into one of my other Oppie requests, I’m not sure yet though as it’s in the idea phase at the moment.

A Surprise Encounter

A/N: the classic films mentioned are all free on BBC iPlayer, go and give them a watch! I also have no idea where the store is, so I made it up.

Neil was absolutely beside himself when the invite arrived in the post. A new film that he couldn’t wait to see was premiering soon, it was low budget but contained a few big names who had decided that they wanted to promote the more independent side of the industry. He had been asked to attend an event aiming to promote smaller video shops like his rather than the huge, commercial ones that were taking over. When he read that you and the director alone were going to be on the panel he felt like he had never been luckier, finally a chance to meet his favourite actress in the flesh. Although he did admire your talents, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he also found you wildly attractive.

The next few weeks were spent planning everything. He rewatched a few of your films so that he could ask some decent questions of you at the press event and reading every article that he could on the making of your new one, a biopic of Julie d’Aubigny. He went out and bought a new suit for the occasion, had his hair cut. As far as he was concerned, there were going to be no disasters, not when he was going to meet one of his idols.

~

The day of the event had finally come. All of the invitees, including Neil, had been piled into an auditorium where they had been given an early viewing of the film, then being moved into a press room with rows of chairs set out in front of a platform. He was happy with his seat, about half way back in the crowd, not too conspicuous but with a good view of the stage. The previous hubbub died down as soon as the panel made their way up, the director taking his place, yet Neil’s eyes were fixed on you. Your hair was down and curly, framing your face, and that smile that everyone always talked about. You were wearing black heels a red dress that dipped down just enough to give a small view of your cleavage. He was transfixed.

Questions started being asked, the general types of how you had enjoyed working with the rest of the cast and what you had taken away from playing your character, some conversations were had about wanting to make sure that the smaller side of the film and cinema industry wasn’t dwarfed in the future. For some reason, all of the eyes in the room suddenly focused on Neil, it was only then that he realised that he had drifted off, his arm leaned on the armrest of his chair in such a way that you had thought he was asking a question.

“Uh, the gentleman in the blue suit there, do you have a question?” The sentence was coming from you, quickly drawing him out of his reverie.

“Um.. yes,” he never was much good at thinking on his feet. “I know that you’re promoting this film today, but do you feel as if classic cinema has been forgotten. My shop specialises in older, more hard to find movies and… well, yeah,” he trailed off. He was like a deer in the headlights, speaking as if he was full of terror. A few people around him were scoffing and hiding their laughter. Great, he had embarrassed himself in front of you.

“Actually, I do think that we’ve forgotten about classic cinema. Not only the thrillers and comedies, but for me the least talked about are the romance films. I grew up on Astaire and Rogers musicals, I know some people don’t like them and find them a bit politically incorrect know, but they still have a special place in my heart. If you think about their influence on modern cinema, we wouldn’t have ‘Sleepless In Seattle’ if it hadn’t been for a 1939 film ‘Love Affair”. What was your name?” Why the hell did you want to know who he was?

“Neil Lewis.”

“And where’s your shop?”

“California, its called Gumshoe Video.”

“I’ll pop in next time I’m in town, maybe you could give me some recommendations.” And that was the end of that conversation.

~

About three weeks later everything had returned to normal. Neil was back to running the store and the gang were still practically living there. It was a completely normal day when Lucien, who had been manning the counter, came around to the back to find him.

“Neil, you might want to come inside, there’s a customer asking for you.”

“Can’t you handle it?” He just wanted a bit of time to himself, making is response more huffy than he had intended.

“Trust me, you want to come and see this.”

He followed Lucien back into the shop, only to be caught in shock as he saw you standing there in front of him, dressed a lot more casually than the last time he saw you, but still with your hair down in its beautiful curls. He never thought that you would actually make true on what you had said, but here you were.

“Is there anything that I can help you with Miss y/l/n?”
“I came by to see if you had any suggestions for me, you know, classic films like you said you specialised in.” You actually seemed a bit nervous, though he had no idea why. “And please, call me y/n.”

“Right, y/n,” it just felt so right when he said it. “What kind of thing are you looking for, any genres in mind?”

“I always love a romance movie, the press don’t know yet but I left my boyfriend last month after he cheated on me. I’m down here to get away from it all, so a romance to take my mind off everything would be good, yeah.” He could see the sadness behind your eyes as you explained.

“He must have been an idiot then,” he said, immediately regretting it and walking past the stunned Lucien towards the romance section, beckoning for you to follow.

“So, you said that you liked Astaire and Rogers, but have you ever seen ‘The Sky’s The Limit’?”

“I don’t think I have, no.” He reached out for the dvd, showing you the front of the case.

“It’s Fred Astaire and Joan Leslie, came out in 1943. A musical about a fighter pilot who falls in love with a girl who wants to make it as a journalist, sounds like the sort of thing you might be looking for.”

“I think I’ll take that then, sounds perfect.” Something lit up inside him, you were smiling and it was because of something that he had done.

“Right, I’ll go and sort out a membership card so that you can rent it then, do you have any ID on you. Driver’s licence or something?” You followed him over to the till, rooting around in your bag to find what he had asked for. He busied himself, quickly handing over the card and the movie.

“What do I owe you?” you asked, reaching for your purse.

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure, because…”

“Yeah, in return for having me at that panel a few weeks back. It was amazing.”
“Well, in that case can I pay you back in another way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could watch the film together?”

“That sounds like a fair means of payment, I think I’ll accept.” You slipped him your number, telling him to call when he was free before walking out of the store, Neil wondering what the fuck had just happened.

[claraswritings]

Stay For Now, I Love You Forever

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader (a tiny bit of Marc Spector x Reader- pining)

Summary: Steven meets a girl. Steven falls for her. Marc falls too.

Warning: Some angst. Set mostly pre-series. (Also for the sake of the fic, Marc is already divorced). First time writing Steven/Marc/Moon Knight system. This is not spell checked as I’m posting at nearly 2AM lol.

A/N: Meant to finish this sooner but I got Covid :( Tagged @marvelenthusiast10 )

***

“Okay Steven…what’s your symptoms.”

The man before you shifted in the chair, drumming his fingers on his jeans, eyes flickering over the walls. It looked like he was battling the urge to run away. It was obvious that he felt awkward, and you couldn’t blame him. It was pretty bizarre having to explain your sleep symptoms to a total stranger.

“Right…” Steve started then trailed off “Sorry Uhh…” he hesitated once more as he looked away from you and rested his gaze on the view from the window. where he could see I t had started to snow heavily.

“Huh…it’s snowing.” He commented “Didnt know it was going to snow? Did you?…Do you think the buses will be running?”

Sensing his rambling was a outburst of nerves, something to distract himself, you attempted to placate him “I didn’t…but I like the snow… I’m sure the buses will be fine but I’ll check the TfL website for you before you go. Do you need a drink?”

Steven brought his dark eyed gaze back to you. “Right sorry, sorry…” he muttered, scratching his jaw… “I’ll get to the point and stop rambling…”

“It’s okay…take your time…” you reassured him. “I have lots of time”

He hesitated, once more before he took a breath for composure

“Okay, so sometimes, yeah, I wake up… and…I‘ve lost… hours or even sometimes days at a time…like couple of weeks ago… I went to bed on Friday…” he gestured, with one hand, the sleeve of his over sized jacket sliding up as he did “but I woke up on Sunday…but I’m still tired…Fell asleep on the bus…” he trailed off for only long enough to rake a hand through his wavy dark hair “Feel like I’ve been hit by one too.”

He gave you a muted smile, as he pulled the long sleeves of his blue jacket back down.

Your lips lifted at corner as a response to his joke, and you nodded slowly, writing down what he was saying.

“That’s not normal is it? Losing days…” He frowned a little, his gaze on you, as you could feel him almost crying out for help “I feel like I’m losing my bloody mind.” He mumbled, his voice quiet.

“No Steven, you’re not, a lack of sleep can do all sorts of things to our bodies, that’s why I’m here. Sleep is a very difficult thing to get right… but we can help you…once we work out what might be causing whatever is happening…do you have any other symptoms? Do you ever sleep walk?”

“See… I thought maybe I did, cause I’d wake up and be like coming back through the door…” Steven leant forward, uncrossing his arms to draw a circle in the air “But like the sand circle would still be yknow in a circle, right? So I can’t be?” He spoke as if he was offering a suggesting, shoulders moving up and down in a shrug that did not look as nonchalant as he had clearly hoped

Now he’d lost you.

“Sand circle?”

“Oh god I’m gonna sound like a right weirdo…” he flopped back in the seat. “I put the sand circle around my bed…, yeah, cause if I was sleep walking I’d shuffle and ruin it.” Steven explained with a wave of his hand. “Wouldn’t I?”

You had to admit it, it was clever, if a little unconventional. “Yeah, that’s actually quite a good idea… never heard that one but I like it.” You nodded encouragingly. As the years you’d spent helping set up various sleep studies, you’d heard all the classics-no caffeine, no cheese, lavender oil, hot baths, white noise, black out curtains… but you’d never heard of using a sand circle to test if you were sleeping walking.

“That and the restraint on the bed.” Steven tacked on then instantly realised what he clicked your eyebrows shooting upwards “Not like that...I’m not like…” He muttered, a red creeping up over his face, as his hand crept up to itch the back of his neck. “Don’t really get the chance for anything like that with the…funny sleeping stuff and that…” he trailed off.

stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking. He told himself internally and shook his head, trying not to visibly shudder at his own awkward comment. How he’d just told you, the prettiest woman he’d seen in…god knows how long, that he had a restraint on his bed. God Steven, way to show off your glaring red flag.

“You…you have a restraint?” you paused, trying not to smile at the flustered man before you, as he now was staring directly at the spot where your desk met carpet. “To prevent the sleepwalking of course.”

The comment about not having the chance stuck out to you. Must mean he’s single.

“Yeah, uh..I have tape too for the… for the door. So I can’t get out and bother anyone…Tried to keep myself up aswell, listened to a podcast and did the stuff it said… puzzles, reading books, all that…didn’t work though…”

His eyes shot back to you as hand ran through his thick wavy hair again Everything about him was a bundle of nerves from the fidgeting to the eyes looking from you to the window and back to the tangents, now on top of that, he was worried his sleep issue would bother anyone. You couldn’t help but feel for him.

“And how long have you been using these… techniques for?”

“Oh god…” he blew out a long exhale “I don’t actually know…to be quite honest…ages now…Doctor”

“It’s okay Steven, anything that can help you is worth trying…and I’m not a doctor… I’m a sleep…tech…” you held your hands up. “I just check you in and help with results.”

“Oh..sorry…” he faltered, a little embarrassed , trying to find the words “…Ms. Sleep… Tech…Technician?… Technologist?”

He cringed inwardly at his own sentence only seconds after the words had left his mouth and for the… he’d lost count… time since he’d entered the room.

“Just….[Name]”

Once again, you weren’t pulling back, recoiling or phased by his awkwardness. You were, much to his surprise, smiling at him. Not the weird passive smile Donna gave him when asking, or rather telling him, to stay late. Not the fake nicety smile exhausted tourists usually gave him, you were actually smiling at him like you thought he was funny. The smile you were giving him was so genuine and warm, he felt himself relax under your eyes.

“You must always be well rested. Must be nice.” Steven attempted to extend the conversation, hoping his attempt wasn’t too ungraceful.

“Ah. You’d be surprised,” There was a smile toying at the corner of your mouth “I’m better at giving advice than I am at following it.”

“Suppose It’s like chefs innit…they come home and probably just Deliveroo themselves a Nando’s or KFC or something?”

You laughed “Yeah, exactly what I mean…Now look…I know this is going to sound cliche but…problems with sleep, it’s more common than you think.” Pausing, you put your notebook down, and leant in, elbows planted on the desk. “But basically in your deepest stage of sleep… your brain switches off the muscles… so you won’t be acting out your dreams or anything crazy. If you are in that stage, you won’t go anywhere, Steven.”

You turned one of your folders over and pushed a case plan towards him, and pointing out the diagrams with the end of your pen.

“We’ll chart your brainwaves whilst you’re asleep… then we can use them to work out what’s going on.”

“And that’ll help me?” He sounded hopeful as his gaze ran over the notes, following your make shift pointer.

“Yeah I hope so, i mean it might not stop the processes but it’ll help us understand what’s going on.”

“You must think I’m a right weirdo…but it’s nice…to talk to someone that isn’t my fish…or the living statue bloke,” Steven turned back to you, giving you a thankful look. “Or my boss.” He pulled a face.

“I don’t think you’re weird, Steven… I want to help you. I’ll listen for as long as you need me to”

You hadn’t automatically assumed he was some weirdo which was a relief. He felt comfortable with you like you actually wanted to help him rather than judging him.

There was a moments silence, then your eyes flicked down to the notebook that lay between you and back to Steven.

“Do you drink tea…or coffee?”

“Oh… um, just tea with soy milk and one sugar. Sometimes a hot chocolate? Although that’s not caffeine is it? I wouldn’t mind one of those flavoured ones, Think they do them that cafe around the corner if you’d like?” He grinned somewhat awkwardly “they do refills…which you know in London, gotta get your moneys worth… it’s expensive.”

You felt a heat creep up your face “Erm…it’s for the questionnaire? I need to know how much caffeine you’re drinking?”

“Oh..oh god I’m sorry, I’ve just put my foot in it havent I?… I thought you were…and now I’m rambling, I do that…”

“But…yes Steven. I’d love to have any hot drink with you…”

“Wait. Really?” Steven faltered, surprised.

“Of course. I finish at half five. I’ll meet you there.”

And when you’d walked into the cafe, saw him already waiting there, drink gently steaming on the table and book in hand, reading glasses on, you’d slid in beside him and had never looked back.

*

When Steven offered to meet you at your flat to go for dinner two days later, you agreed. It was suggestion, that had it come from any of the fuck boys in your Tinder matches would have had you hitting the un match button…but with Steven…you knew he was being sweet.

You knew he wasn’t just asking to try get into your place and into your underwear, although you wouldn’t have minded. He was asking because he didn’t want you to walk to the Tube station alone in the dark.

Steven had wrapped up in a winter coat, and worn a dark blue scarf and matching gloves. He brought chocolate and a dozen pink roses, which as he’d handed over, he’d told you that he noticed your notebook had been pink and thought it was a safe bet for the colour. Before you could say thank you he’d already apologised for the chocolates incase you hated them or incase he’d got the colour wrong.

You’d kissed him on the cheek, told them they were perfect and that you’d share the chocolates with him, before linking your gloved hands together and starting your walk to your favourite Asian restaurant in Camden, where he’d had a tofu version of a curry and you’d had chicken teriyaki skewers. It was closing time before you’d left arm in arm, giggling as you walked together.

As you made your way back to the Tube station, Steven had excitedly wanted to try a bubble waffle, so you’d opted for a shared vegan friendly version and ate it with two forks. You’d hugged him outside the station then met him outside his work two days later…and before long you’d fallen into an easy pattern of dating.

The first time he hadn’t called when he said he would, was one month into dating and he was eight hours late. Steven had saw the voicemails left from you and panicked, fully expecting the “you’re an arsehole, never talk to me again” but no, you’d called him to check he was okay, came by his place and even posted a card through his letterbox telling him you were thinking of him and you hoped he was okay.

You were worried.

Steven kept that card in the top drawer of his beside table alongside a napkin from your first date, one of the gratuity sweets from your second, the first note you’d ever wrote to him, a puzzle you’d bought to do together and a model pyramid you’d saw online and thought of him. You’d said you just saw it on Amazon, but it wasn’t one you could just buy. Steven knew from the model that you’d have had to buy it from a specific retailer. You’d never tell him you googled it specifically but he loved that you did.

He knew he loved you then and there

*

“Hey babe.” You stuck your head around the entrance to the gift shop and grinned at him.

Steven, at the sight of you, dropped the plush back into a box and ran to you, squeezing you tight.

“Hiya love, I’m just finishing up here. Won’t be five minutes and I’ll be over to you” he kept his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck and kissed him before reaching up and straightening the collar of his patterned shirt

“Okay, babe. I’ll just wander around. We can go to that new bakery if you like. I’ve checked the menu, they do have vegan options.”

His lips curled into a smile and he squeezed your hand by way of thanking you before you headed off to wait for him.

“That sounds brilliant. Really good!”

“Stevie!” A call rang out from across the room and Steven rolled his eyes

“Oh fuck Donna.”

“Stevie! I told you the answers no. So just stop talking to guests…alright? Leave it to the real tour guides…”She turned to you, not giving him the chance to reply “Is he bothering you?”

“Actually…” you wrapped your arm around Steven. “He’s not. I’m…”

“Oh…Stevie’s girlfriend.” Donna pointed at you “Gunna be honest, thought he’d made you up. Kept saying you were dead pretty and let him talk. Didn’t actually think you were real.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Thought he was bothering the guests again!”

“Well Steven is a wealth of information, and I want my info from the best source” you gave her as friendly of a smile as you could muster.

“Best source is a tour guide” she smiled “but I’m glad he has someone to listen to his weird rambling.”

“I’d rather hear about it from someone with a passion for it”

“I’m sure our guides are plenty passionate.” She turned on her heel to face Steven. “Clock off please. I’m not paying you to chat to your girlfriend.”

“Sure, Donna. Pleasure as always.” He gave a curt wave, however she had already stalked off before she could return the acknowledgment. “Back in a sec, love.” He leant in and pecked your lips before disappearing off to clock out.

When he returned a few minutes later you linked you arm through his, and noticing he looked slightly dejected, attempted to offer him some comfort.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. I’ve done a few of these tours and I’ve learnt more from listening to you at home than I have from any of them”

“Really?” He perked up “Cause we have this new exhibit, it’s basically like the super group of Egyptian gods and it’s really interesting…the posters only show seven but there’s nine and…” Steven was suddenly conscious he was babbling but when he looked at you, he was still holding your attention.

“Tell me about it?” You asked him.

“About the super group?” Steven was quick to check, excited at the chance to discuss his passion before stopping. “I don’t want to bore you, love”

“You won’t.” You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze through

Steven could never bore you, everything about him was captivating. He was so excited and so passionate about Egyptian mythology that you couldn’t help but be drawn in by his wide eyed enthusiasm. You liked it when he went off on a tangent. It was cute.

“I love you, you know. And not just because you let me go on about Egyptology or that, I just really do love you, and I never thought I’d get that.”

“I love you too Steven.” You kissed him. “Now tell me about these super gods, I wanna know about the missing ones…”

***a few weeks later***

Marc froze. You were half asleep-half awake, the lights from the window, casting bright lights through the window of Stevens flat. You looked angelic, the slopes of your face, the curves of your body as you pulled the duvet tighter.

He’d watched from the background as you and Steven had fallen for each other over the past few months and Marc had, having seen how you were to Steven, had fallen for you too.

He’d realised it when he saw how gentle you were with Steven, after he’d woken one night when you’d been staying the night. He’d stumbled back to bed, a struggle to keep control of the body and barely collapsed into a half slumber before Steven had woke with a jolt around fifteen minutes later, pulling hard at the restraint and checking around him.

**flashback**

“Hey hey, it’s me babe, you’re okay…” you, on instinct, sat up next to Steven. He was checking the restraint, pulling at it hard to make sure it was in place. “…Steven, babe. You’re here, I’m with you, it’s okay.”

You reached for him slowly not making contact until Steven turned to meet your eyes. He was breathing heavy, chest heaving and shoulders tight, brow furrowed as you wrapped one arm around him and held his hand with the other.

“Steven. You haven’t had anything like this in a while.”

It was the first time you’d been there when it had happened. Usually, if Steven had a rough night, he’d call you and you’d talk and you’d stay with him listening.

“Im here babe.” You whispered

“Youre here.” His voice sounded so small and lost and such a far cry from how you’d ever heard him. A part of your heart broke seeing your usual bubbly, chatty Steven such a wreck. “I thought you’d left.”

“No. No.” You pulled him into you, lying back with his head on your shoulder as you carefully carded your hand through his curls. “I’m not leaving.…” You reached for his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please stay for now”

“Of course, for as long as you need me.”

**

Marc had felt so guilty that night that he’d resolved that he wouldn’t go far when you were staying the night. Steven deserved some happiness, a sense of peace, some chance to be normal so tonight he’d kept it short, a quick hour before returning back to you.

Marc wondered if he’d met you first…rather than Steven, would you have fallen in love with him? Would you be stroking circles on his back and whispering sweet nothings to him when he woke in the dead of the night, freaked out and panicking.

He doubted it. Everything you loved was so rooted in Steven. Sweet, endearingly quirky, good-natured, warm hearted, clever Steven, who was nothing like Marc.

You were always staring at Steven, looking in his big wide eyes, playing with the fluffy curls that Marc usually slicked back, sliding your hands under Steven’s oversized clothes that Marc hated, asking him questions about the book Steven was reading that Marc didn’t know anything about, offering suggestions for whatever puzzle Steven was looking at that Marc didn’t care for, you cooked Steven vegan versions of your own lunches where Marc would have preferred the meat, you left cute notes for Steven to find. You called him Babe all the time.

Steven deserved the world but, god how Marc was jealous. He wanted you to look at him the way you looked at Steven. He could feel it heavy on his shoulders as he breathed and like an open wound in his chest.

“Steven?” He froze in the spot where he was, you turned over in the bed, voice half asleep. “Come back to bed. It’s cold.” You muttered

“Shhh, back to sleep.” He had hoped you wouldn’t notice the change from London to American as he whispered approaching the bed.

“Babe you’re talking different.” you muttered.

The second of silence that passed felt like an age to Marc, the only sound was his hammering heart rate, before you filled the room with a sleepy laugh “You’re so funny…I love you Steven.”

And like that you were back to sleep, leaving Marc alone with his own racing heart.

**a few weeks later**

Steven had been gone for five days. You’d spent most of your mornings leaving early for work to drop in on him and see if he’d shown up, your lunch breaks scouring the local news to see if an anonymous man had shown up in any hospitals, you’d called almost every hospital and police station within a ten mile radius. The police had told you they’d “note his name and description” and let you know. By Wednesday you’d even went to his work twice only for Donna to tell you Steven doesn’t work here.

You’d began to wonder you should be going back to the police to tell them the missing person you’d reported still had not shown up when you heard a knocking at your door

“Gimme a minute,” You called out as pulled yourself off the sofa and headed to the door. Hauling it open you half expected to see your neighbour or the postman. What you were not expecting to see was your boyfriend, in a baggy navy jumper, hair sticking up at all angles and looking like he’d come off a 72 hour all nighter.

He wouldn’t have of course, Steven barely drank so you couldn’t process exactly how or what the fuck had happened until he spoke.

“Hi.” He managed to get out “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“Steven…You‘ve been gone for days…where the fuck where you?” Your mouth formed the words, quieter, more concerned than angry.

Instead of saying a word, you felt him slump into your arms, exhausted.

“Fucking hell Steven, what happened?” You repeated yourself with a mutter as you looped an arm around his waist and the other you used to support him and helped him to the couch, where he flopped down. Your heart ached just looking at him.

“Don’t go.” He murmured, “Stay here.”

“I’m just getting you a blanket and a cuppa, babe… okay?” You brushed some of his curls back as he nodded. “I’ll be back in two minutes… I promise.”

You kissed his head and exactly two minutes later, you returned a steaming mug of tea and your favourite sage green blanket. You’d bought it in the Dunlem sale and it never left your bed until it made its way to Stevens. You’d wrapped him in it once when he’d fallen asleep at his desk and he’d looked so adorable you’d insisted he kept it.

“Are you okay? Should I be calling an ambulance or the police or something?”

His hands knotted around the edges as you draped it over him and sat the mug in front of him. You sat in silence beside him until he’d had a few large gulps. Steven shook his head

“I’m okay…no ambulance. no police needed. It’s alright..”

“Steven. You have to tell me where you were.” You tried “Please. I thought you were missing or dead, I kept expecting to see your picture on the news as a fucking body found.”

“You wouldn’t believe me…” he let out a tiny impression of a laugh “I mean not just you… no one would and I don’t blame them.”

“I will…I promise.”

“It sounds made up”

“Babe, not that long ago Spider-Man had a fight on Tower Bridge, and before that half the world disappeared and came back and before that Thor had a fight with that…alien thing in Greenwich and before that if you’d asked me, I’d say that shit only happens in New York but I’m three out of three of mad things that have happened to me so nothing you say is going to freak me out… but saying nothing is…” You pressed your head to his. “Please…please tell me where you were.”

Steven sighed, you looked so desperate to help, so worried and he could hear Marc, telling him to be honest with you, not being honest with Layla had cost him his relationship, and although they were still friends, he didn’t want the same to happen to you.

“Yeah okay…” he started “but you got to let me tell you the whole thing, alright? No matter how mental it sounds.”

You smiled. “Of course.”

And for the whole time, you kept your attention on him, nodding, asking questions and squeezing his hand”

“Suppose that’s it all.” He said with a finish “I’ll understand if you don’t want to go out with me anymore…”

“Steven.” You pulled him into a hug, hands reaching up to rub his back. “I believe you and I love you and of course I still want to go out with you.”

“But all I do is cause problems for everyone…I don’t want to mess up your-.”

“You could never be a problem. Not for me.”

“I will eventually.”

“Steven, there is no problem you could cause that would be too big. You were never a problem to me.” Your head shook vehemently “and you never will be. Not now, not ever. You and me always.”

“I love you…” he muttered leaning in and pressing his head to yours so softly “forever”

“…I love you so much.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me…us.” He paused, as you tilted your head with a smile “Marc won’t come forward now but he cares for you. A lot.”

“Steven, you will always be enough for me…but one day I’d like to meet him…Marc…if that’s okay with both of you…when he’s ready.”

Steven nodded. “I think he’d like that too.”

The relief lifted a weigh off his shoulders and he felt himself settle back into the sofa. You joined him, and slipped your arms around him, pulling the blanket around you both.

“I’ve missed you.” You muttered quietly.

“I missed you too.”

Steven kissed you softly and started to apologise before you planted another kiss on his lips, softly and gently.

“Shhh, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad I have my boyfriend back.” You gave him an easy smile and he leant in.

.“I’m glad I’m back too…love. To the rest of our lives Eh?” He leant in to you as you repeated his sentiment.

“To the rest of our lives”

[rayhalloffame]

Prompt 25 angsty with Art Donaldson please pretty pleaseee😩🛐

This one got away from me a little bit haha I hope you enjoy!! Requests are open, feel free to deviate from the prompt list if you’d like!

F!reader x Stanford!Art Donaldson

25. “It hurts...” “what?” “Loving someone who doesn’t love you...”

What’s frustrating is that it’s not the first time you’ve had this conversation. You’ve tried to make him understand how his behavior is perceived, how it makes you feel. He always tells you you’re thinking about it too much, if he didn’t love you he wouldn’t be with you. It’s hard not to believe him when in the next moment he’s reaching for you to pull you into his lap and pepper your face with kisses until you’re a giggling mess.

That’s why when he asks if he could spend the night after practice, you were happy to have him. Between your class schedule and his tennis schedule, making time for each other was hard, but always worth it. Your only request was that he come over no later than 10pm because you had a big exam the next day.

You must’ve fallen asleep in bed while studying and waiting for Art, because you’re startled awake by the obnoxious ringtone Art had set for himself. You reach for the phone, grateful your roommate is away for the night so you’re not disturbing anyone. When the clock flashes the time at you, it reads 11:47pm. You bring the phone to your ear and say nothing, annoyed.

“Baby?” Art whispers. “Are you still awake?”

You consider feigning asleep. Maybe he’ll think you answered the phone just to get the ringing to stop. But you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t want to see him. You hadn’t spent a proper night together in over 2 weeks, just FaceTimes and lunches wherever you could fit them. You stifle a yawn and pull yourself to a seated position, quietly ask him where he is.

He sounds happy to hear you, tells you that he’s walking to you now and is about 5 minutes away. You let him ramble while you flick your light on and close the books scattered on your bed. By the time he reaches your door your bed is clear and you’ve spritzed it with your perfume for good measure.

He’s leaning against the doorframe when you pull it open, looking apologetic. “Sorry I’m late,” he offers sweetly, reaches his hand out to drag his knuckle down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” You hum in acknowledgment, still annoyed but stepping aside to let him in.

He drops his tennis gear and book bag at your desk, slips off his slides, then turns so he can sit on the edge of the wooden furniture. His legs are spread just enough for you to slip between them when he reaches for you. “Gonna give me a kiss or what?” he asks.

You roll your eyes but can never deny him. As you’re leaning in you pluck his red Stanford hat from his head briefly so you can flip it backwards and avoid getting hit in the face by its brim. The kiss is soft and slow, your arms draped over his shoulders. He has a guiding hand on your jaw, the other holding you close by the waist. He hums into your mouth. You’re suddenly more awake when you pull away, suggest taking a shower together in your Jack-and-Jill bathroom before going to sleep.

“Sorry, baby,” he says, thumb stroking your cheek where his hand still rests. “Me and Tashi showered at the athletic center after our session before getting dinner. I didn’t get to wash my hair though, so how about we rain check for a longer shower in the morning?” Oblivious, he pulls you back to him in offer of an apologetic kiss but you turn your head into his hand. His lips press against the corner of your mouth.

You feel sick, drawing away from him, taking 2 steps back. “You and Tashi did what?”

He’s laughing now, holding his hands up. “No, no! We were in different locker rooms.”

“No, Art. You and Tashi went to dinner, when you’ve been with her everyday for the last month. I was so excited you could fit me into your busy schedule and you couldn’t even get here when I asked.” You cross your arms over your chest. You feel your heart speeding up behind your ribs.

“Don’t be like that,” he groans. “We train together and wanted something to eat after.” He waits for your response, and when one doesn’t come, he continues. “I am sorry for being late, though. I lost track of the time.”

Your eyes sting. You can tell they’re watering. You nod your head stiffly, just once. “You know, that really hurts.”

“What?” he asks. He stands to reach for you, spurred into action by the tears swimming in your eyes.

“Loving someone who doesn’t love you. You’re in love with her, Art, not me.” A tear betrays you, slips down your cheek. Before you can angrily swipe it away Art is there, as gentle with you as he’s ever been.

“Don’t do this,” he says. “You’re my girl, of course I love you. And I miss you, you know? Let’s have a good night together.” His tone is pleading.

Never one to deny him, you nod, sniffling. You don’t have the fight in you that you did the handful of other times you’ve had this talk. So you let him tilt your head up to press your lips together, let him pull you into a tight hug where he rests his cheek against the top of your head and rubs his big hand up and down your back.

He’s stripping down to his boxers in the next minute and pulling his Stanford hoodie over your head. He tells you you’re beautiful, squeezes your cheeks together cutely. When you get into your twin xl bed he pulls you tight against his body. You hike a leg over his hip, relish in the feel of his fingers stroking up and down your thigh.

It’s not often you can tell when something is going to be the last time. But in this moment you know. This will be the last time Art Donaldson holds you to sleep, the last time you trace patterns on his chest. You savor his touch and will yourself not to cry, tuck your head into the crevice of his neck and try to memorize his scent. You try not to think too much about how he put on cologne to go to dinner with her.

[ambrossart]

Welp, this experiment was a total failure

I'm extremely disappointed with myself right now. I didn't accomplish anything I was hoping to. Nothing at all.

To be perfectly honest, I almost didn't post anything tonight. But I will because I said I would, and because I want you all to see how much of a hack I am. I want you to see why it takes me months to finish a single damn chapter.

I spent over a week working on this. I even took the day off from work today, and I spent half the day staring at my screen, utterly paralyzed. And the saddest part is, most of this is recycled from something I wrote months ago. Months. I couldn’t come up with a better opening, so I just pulled this out of my scrap bin. I was hoping to add to it. To build upon it. But all I ended up doing was rewriting it a bunch of times.

I’m a hack. I’m a horrible writer.

And I know you’re probably thinking I’m being overdramatic, that this is just fanfiction, who cares, but it isn’t just fanfiction to me. This is what I want to do with my life. Ever since I was a kid, all I wanted to do was be a published author.

I’m starting to think that’s never gonna happen. Maybe my college professors were right, after all.

So here it is: the product of all my efforts. It’s not long. It’s not good. It’s not interesting. And it’s probably gonna get deleted again at some point.

Sorry you all waited for nothing.

_____________________________

Evelyn stared down at her folded hands, willing them to move.

You have to do it, Evie…

Even if you don’t want to, you have to do it. 

A tear landed on the back of her hand and gleamed there. She closed her eyes, counted to three, took a deep breath, and opened the door…

but the girl who came out the other side wasn't Evelyn at all. She was just this pale, lifeless husk—a cheaply made, mass-produced doll that someone had painted to resemble her. It wasn’t right. None of it was right. Where was her smile, the one that lit up her whole face and made you feel like the only person in the world? Where was the little twinkle in her eyes? That friendly glimmer? It was always there, always, even when she was really mad, even when she swore that this was the last time, Henry; I’ve had enough of your bullshit! Where was it now? Where? Where?!

What happened to the tiny flecks of gold in her eyes, the ones you could only see when the sun was angled just right? Her eyes were precious, perfect, but now they were gone, just… gone!

What happened to all her color? All her light? Her life? Her spirit? Someone had snuffed it out—killed it. Now she was nothing more than a corpse.

That's not Evelyn, Henry thought, angry and disgusted. This was a joke, a cheap trick, but he wouldn’t be so easily fooled. That wasn’t Evelyn. Wasn’t. Couldn’t have been. The real Evelyn was fine, safe, and drawing smiley faces on Mrs. Lafferty’s quizzes.

She was waiting for Henry to come back. He had walked out, said fuck you and stormed off, but she knew he would come back eventually.

… didn’t she?

Henry always came back. He pinky promised.

I have to go, Henry thought anxiously, his left hand reaching and finding his right, fingertips circling his right pinky. Evelyn’s warmth was still there—little more than a memory now, but still there.

Meanwhile, the false Evelyn was standing beside the minivan, her hair collapsed and disheveled (wrong), makeup running muddily down her cheeks (wrong!), staring out with glassy, hollow eyes (doll’s eyes, false eyes, not Evelyn’s). She nudged the car door with her hand and it swung back on its hinges, closing with an unaccepting click. (Not right. Not right. Try again.) She ripped open the door, heaved it closed with all her strength, and then staggered backward, panting, her backpack slipping off her shoulder, sliding down her arm, off her hand, and slumping to the ground. Her shoulders trembled as she sobbed, an ugly, horrible sound.

I have to go, Henry thought harder, trying to drown out the sound of her cries. Evelyn's waiting for me at… at the park. She went to get me some bandaids and she's gonna be really mad if I'm not there when she gets back. I made a promise. I pinky promised. I…

(the closed door squeaking open)

(Evelyn's eyes rolling up, reaching for him)

I left her.

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 10

~ Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry ~

You might remember this fic from last year. Well, I had plans to make it a one off thing but then I couldn't help it and I got another idea. And I just want to say thank you to everyone who read the first part and loved it. It's so fun when you guys love something as much as I do. Without further delay, please enjoy Part 2 who we really and truly have to thank Rowaelin month and @rowaelinscourt for.

~~~~~

All Aelin could do was stare at her own reflection in the mirror of her dressing room vanity. She didn’t have long before she had to leave her sanctuary and face a crowd of strangers like her entire world hadn’t been rocked at its foundations. Acting was a talent she’d taken to at a very young age, the tales of her dramatics often told around the dinner table. Aelin would be fine, she’d put on one of her charismatic smiles and give her audience her all, and everything would be fine. But for now, it was only her stunned expression to keep her company. 

That was how Rowan found her however long later, silent and still as her mind was whirring with thoughts of the future. Aelin had lost track of the minutes spent doing absolutely nothing, and as Rowan appeared in the mirror she startled, a hand flying to her chest as if to stop her heart from flying out of her chest. 

“Holy gods, you scared me,” she breathed as Rowan removed his cap and kissed her on the cheek. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Rowan murmured onto her skin as he kissed her again. When he noticed she still hadn’t moved, not in the slightest, to look at him or seek out another kiss his voice changed from teasing to concern. “Are you all right?”

Aelin finally found the compulsion to move, swivelling in her makeup chair to face Rowan. It was always infinitely more pleasant when he could come to the studio without the threat of being in front of the camera. Not as exciting for her, but she was still happy to see him. When he came to visit her here Rowan had to sneak in and from the sheer amount of times he’d done he’d developed quite the skill for it. The tricky part was not drawing attention, and with years of practice he had the art of blending in down to a fine art. 

The key was appearing so much unlike his professional self that it would take more than a double take to place why he looked so familiar. So today with his scruffy hat hair, hoodie and stubble covered cheeks, he was a far cry from the suave and composed image he gave the camera.

Since Rowan’s last public performance here he’d been promoting his new album and gone on tour. Over the past eight months Aelin had hardly seen him except via a phone screen. The last time they had managed to see each other in person was when he had shows in Suria and snuck away when he should have been sleeping in to come see her. That was about six weeks ago.

“We have a situation,” Aelin had said, looking up at him and jerking her head towards the vanity. “And I think we have this room and that couch to blame.” 

Rowan’s brows furrowed then looked to where she had directed. His eyes went wide and he did a few double takes before his gaze finally settled on her. There was an open question in his eyes and Aelin just nodded. Then he let out a shaky laugh as he realised fully what this all meant, a hand rubbing his stubbled chin. 

“Well, I guess this changes things,” Rowan finally said. 

“Indeed it does,” Aelin confirmed. “We need a plan, and I think I have one.”

THREE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER…

Aelin always got butterflies waiting behind the curtain for the final call of action. The crowd was still humming with chatter and she could hear the last camera checks over her in-ear monitor. This time the butterflies were worse, enough to make her nauseous. Today’s show would be one to be remembered and it had taken a good amount of deceit and scheming to get here.

“Alright, Aelin,” a voice said into her ear. “Curtains open in five, four, three…”

Aelin took in a deep breath, the last two counts sounding in her head. Two, One.

The applause started and then the curtains opened, Aelin taking the ten steps forward to get to her mark. She smiled and waved while she made eye contact with a few people seated in the audience. There were cheers and whistles, and when it went on a little too long Aelin held up her hands to start quieting them down as the prompt screen undoubtedly displayed QUIET PLEASE. Once the audience had settled Aelin began her welcoming monologue. 

“Thank you so much,” she said, her smile stretching wide, and there were cheers again. “Now, now, as much as I would love to stand here and lap up every bit of your admiration, I don't get paid for that.” There was a healthy amount of laughter. “I get paid to put on a show and what a show do we have planned for today. They’re always special, what am I talking about? It reminds of something my father used to say, slightly inappropriate but I think—”

The strum of a guitar interrupted her and Aelin made sure she looked affronted even though she knew exactly what was going on. When the the chord turned into music she sent a confused look to the audience a millisecond before they broke out in raucous cheers. Aelin whirled around  to see Rowan strutting out, centrestage from where she had been standing moments before with the smallest of smug smiles on his face. He was looking down at his guitar and Aelin put her hands on her hips to show her displeasure. Rowan had the gall to wink at her. If he wasn’t careful he’d give the whole gig away. 

Even though it wasn’t his job, it was Fenrys who darted out from the wings and dropped a mic and stand in front of Rowan, and then he was gone again. It became a stand off, Rowan playing while he challenged her with a look that told her to get off his stage, even though it was her stage. 

He had to win for the whole ploy to work, so Aelin gave an overexaggerated and exasperated sigh, her hands falling to her sides as half turned to the audience as she said, “I guess I know when I’m not needed.”

It was hard, but Aelin withheld her own smile as she gave Rowan the limelight. He hadn’t stopped playing, the chords effortlessly coming from the instrument and he never missed a beat. Aelin found a spot by the foot of the low steps near her interview platform, right beside Fenrys who had decided not to head out of sight. He nudged her with his elbow and winked. Aelin tried not to look too pleased with herself. 

The tempo picked up and Rowan readied himself in front of the microphone. Aelin’s breath caught in her chest, it always did in the anticipation of the song beginning. It always happened when Rowan was about to sing. He closed his eyes, grounding himself to the melody and then his deep voice filled the studio.

I found a love, for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

“Sweet?” Fenrys muttered under his breath.

Aelin tried very hard not to snort and ruin Rowan’s performance. “Artistic licence. Now hush” 

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was.

They might not have been kids but they were young and stupid enough to mistake their mutual animosity for other feelings that were way at the other end of the spectrum. When they had admitted to their true feelings it was like Aelin’s entire world had fallen into place. Rowan was everything she wanted and she had just been too willfully ignorant to see. Thank the gods they had come to their senses. Eventually. 

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight

Aelin remembered that night, Rowan had surprised her after she’d been deep cleaning her house all day. It was the first time that Rowan had seen her so dishevelled. Her cheeks had burned, he didn’t notice, just sweeping into her kitchen to make dinner. They had sat outside, eating on a blanket, and after Rowan had pulled her to her feet to dance under the night’s sky, the cooling grass beneath their feet. 

The backing curtain rose, revealing a small band to accompany Rowan and his guitar playing. The music swelled to new heights and Aelin was reminded of just how much she loved this song.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

Unconsciously Aelin’s hand drifted to her stomach. It was an unconscious gesture, but how could she not when he was singing about that. 

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this

Darling, you look perfect tonight

When the instrumental bridge began Rowan stopped playing, letting the backing band have their moment. Confused, Aelin sent him a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. He just pulled his guitar over his head, walked over and handed it over to Fenrys. Before Aelin could even ask aloud about whatever was going on right now Rowan had taken her hand and spun her into a dance. Fenrys’ laugh was audible and she knew they must have looked quite the sight. It was hard not to melt into his embrace, which came to her so naturally in this moment. They were still on camera, and they had images to maintain. Her the larger than life social star, he the cold and callous musician, although with this break in character Rowan’s was very quickly unravelling. Aelin knew this song by heart, he’d played it for her enough, so she knew when he had danced too long for that standard interlude, but the band covered him.

He did dance her back over to her spot by the stage before it was too obvious that he was stalling and took his guitar back. Rowan was effortlessly able to join back in, his voice impassioned as he started the final rendition of the chorus. 

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

By the gods he did. With everything that he had been through and what he had given to Aelin without question, he deserved every bit of happiness they had together. As her thoughts ran off the music slowed, Rowan closing out the song, strumming the last few chords himself and ending it on a truly acoustic note. 

You look perfect tonight

The applause was deafening, and Aelin joined in. Like he always did, Rowan went a little shy when accepting the adoration being rained down on him. His cheeks went a delectable shade of pink and he nodded at the crowd who just kept clapping. Aelin gave Fenrys a jab in the arm to get him moving off camera and out of the way. Knowing the camera was now on her, Aelin put on her signature teasing smirk, clapping as Rowan approached. Gods damn him, but he held out his hand like the gentleman to help her up the miniscule steps. His back was to the camera, convenient as he scowled at the towering heels she’d chosen to wear today. He would say they were a safety concern, Aelin was adamant they made her outfit.

They sat in the arms chairs, sinking into the plush cushions. Their eyes were on each other while they waited for the commotion to die down enough for the interview to start. Rowan must have made quite the impression because it took the QUIET PLEASE flashing longer than usual for the audience to follow the instruction. When they finally did Aelin grinned. 

“How dare you interrupt my monologue,” she said. 

Rowan had assumed his cool and aloof demeanour, and he just shrugged. “That song was more heartfelt than any spiel you were about to give.”

Aelin gasped. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

In fact, she’d woken him up with soft kisses that had led to more, and he’d left bed in the best mood possible. 

“Now that song,” Aelin said, drawing out each word. “It’s a love song, and from those beautifully written, heartfelt words, it feels like it might have been written about someone special.”

“If you have a question, Aelin, just ask it,” Rowan challenged. 

She lent forward, the thrill of the game exciting her. “I have many questions. First, what can you tell me about this,” Aelin waved her hand flippantly over her shoulder, where she knew a photo from Rowan’s Instagram was being shown.  “I showed this post a few months ago and I can tell you there were more than a few broken hearts in this studio.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the audience. Aelin shot a glance at the picture, admiring the large emerald set in a gold band. Rowan couldn’t have done better in picking the perfect engagement ring for her, Aelin had hated that she hadn’t been able to wear it and to show it off. The only public admittance of their relationship was this photo and because it only showed Aelin’s hand she had remained anonymous. There was just the widespread devastation that Rowan Whitethorn was officially off the market, the media sent into a tizzy because no one knew who his mystery woman was. It cost them both an exorbitant amount in NDAs but somehow they had managed to keep it all out of the public eye.

“My favourite comment is this one: WTF But you and Aelin! I shipped the two of you so hard. You’ve broken my heart,” Aelin read. “How could you break their heart like that, Rowan? Have you no compassion?”

“I don’t know how people can see the way we interact and imagine us together,” Rowan said.

“Shipping is the word you’re looking for,” Aelin explained. “You may be too old to be down with the lingo, unfortunately.”

Rowan scoffed, selling his arrogance. “I could say the same about you, I doubt kids today know what the word lingo means.”

“At least I’m not as old as you,” Aelin threw in a little bite to her words to make her anger believable. “I have that going for me amongst all my other admirable and desirable qualities.”

“If you say so.” She saw Rowan fighting his smile but he kept his composure in the end. “You just like anything that draws attention to you. Never mind how ridiculous and unfounded that attention might be.”  

“I see falling in love hasn’t done any favours to you manners,” Aelin teased.

“Maybe it’s just you, Aelin. You seem to make it your mission to make me as nasty as I can be." Rowan sounded both impatient and offended, a practised tone for him.

“What can I say, I love to ruffle your feathers. And It’s not my fault they’re so easily ruffled,” Aelin countered. “But I should at least offer my congratulations. An engagement is one thing but I’m more interested in what comes after.”

A video played on the large screen behind the two of them, the song Rowan had just sung playing again in lower quality with just him and his guitar. Aelin watched the grainy video footage, seeing him dressed in dark pants with the buttons of is white shirt rolled to his elbows, the rest of his features were blurred by the terrible quality of the camera work. His stand out feature was his voice as he sang to an unknown figure. The heads of the guests obscured the view of who that was, the only thing that was seen of her was her hands dancing above her head for a few moments. Fenrys had done a wonderful job purposefully terrible camera work.

There were some murmurs from the audience as they put together the other pieces of information the video showed them. It was more than clear what this delightful snippet was from, but Aelin began the dance anyway.

“That looks like you’re at a wedding,” she said. 

“My own, in fact,” Rowan confirmed. There were a few cheers at that, the news wasn’t new. It had been hard won but they had managed to fully control what information had gone out about the special event. “You should know, you were there.”

This time there were a few surprised gasps and muttering of what. The animosity between Aelin and Rowan was notorious, and although some tabloids tried to put a flirtatious spin on it it never seemed to stick. Their feuding held more entertainment and money. 

“I wasn’t invited directly, I came as a plus one for a very important guest.” Aelin lent back in her chair, consciously keeping her hands on the arms of it. “It was a magical affair and a wonderful night. I must say though, I think you could  have done better. You’re worth millions after all.”

Rowan’s eyebrows rose with indignant surprise. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well, the venue for starters,” Aelin said. “It felt like a prison inside, all those high walls and artificial lighting. Why were we punished for your success?”

“I’m a private man, as you well know. There’s certain things I can’t compromise on to maintain it.”

“And the colour scheme,” she made a disgusted sound. “So basic. Green and gold? Sounds like the colour scheme for a sports team.”

There was a chuckle from Rowan at that. “I didn’t know you paid attention to such things.”

“You’d be surprised at what I pay attention to,” Aelin said with a flirtatious wink. “That dress. Stunning. Couldn’t have chosen a more stunning piece of art.”

“At least you have one positive thing to say,” even though he sounded completely unimpressed. “She was stunning as ever, even though wedding planning did make her kind of a diva.”

Aelin lent a hand on her chin, a smile quirking up the side of her mouth even though she wanted to insist the contrary. “Pity about that, though I’d say your temperaments match. Or more likely she realised it was your sorry ass that she was marrying and didn’t want you to face the embarrassment of being left at the altar. I think you should thank her for that kindness.”

“Anything else that didn’t meet your expectations, your Highness?” Rowan made sure to add an edge of mocking to his voice, but Aelin could see the mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Aelin tapped her chin, sending a conspiring look to the audience as they sat on the edge of their seats waiting for her next biting quip. “The wine, I would have chosen better.” That held some truth, because Aelin hadn't exactly participated in the trying before buying. 

“You didn’t even drink any,” Rowan said, almost ruining everything by laughing. They would need to wrap this up quickly before he gave them away completely. This man couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. 

“That,” she drew the word out as a warning, “was because I heard it was so terrible I didn’t even bother with it. Now let’s get back to your lovely little song.”

“If you’d like,” Rowan added callously. 

In return Aelin sent him a wry smile. “I understand it was for your wife. A serenade for her on your wedding day.”

Rowan just nodded. There was a call of but who is she from the audience. Host and guest both pointedly ignored it. 

“The lyrics are beautiful, and obviously come from the heart. She must be a very lucky woman to have your devotion.” Then Aelin turned towards the audience. “Who knew Rowan Whitethorn could be such a softy, even his vows had me in tears.”

There was no word of a lie there. As Rowan had declared his love to her, and promised to honour and care for them as long as he lived, Aelin couldn’t keep back the tears. Her father had to pass her his pocket square so she could dab the tears away without ruining her makeup. 

“Over all, it was quite the party,” Aelin said. 

Rowan snuck her a secret smile. “It was.”

“I’d say the party really started once the bride and groom left,” Aelin mused.

“Did it just?” Rowan said in that dry way of his.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, trying not to remember too vividly how they had gone back to their room and really celebrated lest she blush on camera. “Your presence has that kind of impact.”

Rowan had to look down to hide most of his smile as he shook his head at her antics. It really was time to wrap it up before he lost all restraint and just blurted everything out because Aelin teased too hard and he bit too quickly. 

“Where is your shiny new wedding ring anyway? It just about blinded me at the reception,” Aelin said. 

This was the predetermined phrase that would uncover them at last. For nearly two years Aelin and Rowan had managed to keep their relationship private and out of the public eye. They were about to undo all their hard work, but it was about time and most definitely worth it. Bringing their relationship to light would save them from all the speculation and rumours that continuously surrounded them. Not completely, there would always be gossip of cheating and the like, but it would be nice not to hide anymore. 

Rowan shifted so that he could reach into his back pocket and then showed off his ring, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “I took it off to play, didn’t want it getting in the way.”

Even though they had no idea what they were anticipating, the audience seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Rowan slipped his ring onto his finger then looked right at Aelin. 

“I’ve got yours, too,” Rowan said, this time reaching into the pocket over his heart. There was tittering from the audience, Aelin struggled to keep her face neutral. “I found them on the bathroom counter, I thought you might want them.”

The was a singular, very high pitched WHAT from someone in the audience. Rowan held out his hand to her, palm up with the emerald on full display. 

Biting her bottom lip to stop her grin was futile and Aelin only had eyes for Rowan as she said, “Thank you, but I’d left them there on purpose.”

Rowan was grinning too, his eyes darting down to her stomach. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t get them on,” Aelin said casually, risking a glance at her audience who looked like they were ready to explode. “My fingers were too swollen. Tends to happen when you’re pregnant.”

Absolutely pandemonium broke out. Aelin stood, watching as the audience collectively lost their mind and smoothed her hands over her dress, showing off the small bump she had hidden beneath. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping, there were whistles and a few screams. She smiled, caressing her bump affectionately again. It had been difficult but they had managed to keep the pregnancy out of public knowledge. A few of the tabloids had run stories about her looking pregnant but when nothing came of it, they just gave up. Aelin had faced pregnancy allegations every other week for years, this time it wasn’t a lie. She was just too good at keeping secrets. A baby had been a surprise, to say the least, but not at all an unwelcome one. The wardrobe department had a hard time dressing her lately in an attempt to hide the pregnancy and to keep her comfortable. Even more NDAs were handed out over it.

And then Rowan stood too, off script. He swept an arm around her waist and she went willingly into his embrace. Rowan tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a sweet smile, the kind that was just for her, his eye crinkling in the corner. When he kissed her Aelin let him, returning it fervently. It was probably too amorous for day time television but Aelin couldn’t find it in herself to care—not when Rowan whispered I love you and looked at her like that. 

Once the chaos died down Rowan had been sent off and Aelin had to focus on her real job, Getting through the rest of the show had been a feat. As soon as Rowan had left the stage Aelin pretended like nothing had happened. The next segment had been promoting various popular books, followed by video chatting a school telling them her studio was providing them with iPads. All in all, it was a fantastic show, but now that it was over she was free to return to her dressing room.

Rowan was waiting for her, arm draped over the back of the couch and looking far too good. Aelin tried not to slam the door but her excitement got the better of her. Kicking off her heels she wasted no more time before climbing into Rowan’s lap, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him. His hands went to her waist, his thumbs brushing over her sides. 

When they finally broke apart Rowan said, “You could have let up a little.”

“I’m still mad about it being a shotgun wedding,” Aelin pulled back and narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know if it was the hormones or purely the lyrics but I had to blink back the tears.”

“How is that my fault? You’ve heard that song a hundred times.” Rowan was giving her a look that only insisted that part was not his fault.

Aelin ignored it completely. “And you almost gave it away so many times, like when you told the world I wasn’t drinking.”

Rowan's deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and he urged her closer. “We were heading in a wedding direction anyway. We just needed a little bit of a push. You can’t blame me for getting a little excited over telling everyone.”

His hand rested over her stomach, right over the tiny thing that had given them much more than a little push. Finding out that they were pregnant had accelerated all the plans they had for their future. They didn’t see the point in waiting to get engaged or prolonging the time between that and a wedding. They had chosen each other, and like their vows had said, they were in this together until whatever end. Still, the joke of the shotgun wedding was too funny to let go of, and there had also been the fact she hadn’t been able to wear her engagement ring outside the house. It was beautiful and deserved to be shown off. 

The feeling of Rowan’s lips making their way up her neck drew her back to the present. “I worked it out.”

“Worked what out?” Rowan asked but wasn’t deterred by her shift in topic and kissed her jaw.

“That we most likely conceived on this very couch,” Aelin explained. “You were busy with your tour and I checked the dates and you were only in town for those few days.”

Rowan stopped kissing her to laugh. “Is this a lucky couch then?”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Aelin said, her hand slipping into his hair tugging it just the way he liked. “I certainly like to get lucky on it.”

Rowan groaned, leaning in so that scrape his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Did you lock the door?”

The words were whispered onto her skin and made Aelin shiver. All resolve lost, she melted against Rowan, sighing as his hands wandered over her body. Gods, she needed him, her blood still thrumming from all the excitement of the interview. And she could feel how much Rowan needed her, a teasing roll of her hips only intensifying the situation. 

“There’s no need,” Aelin said and Rowan pulled back enough to see his face. “To quote our dear friend Fenrys, after all that foreplay no one would even risk disturbing us right now.”

Rowan’s grin was near feral. “No more wasted time then.”

They both moved, meeting in the middle for a kiss that set every fire within them blazing. The couch it seemed, would prove to be more than useful yet again. And like Aelin had said, lessons had been learned and no one interrupted them… this time.

~~~~~

Hope you like that one! I know I certainly did

[kisskiss-slashslash]

I have a Jason request:D

Request(sorry if it’s too specific): Jason is beginning to notice that their s/o (who does witchcraft) is becoming more and more distant or busy (this also happens a couple days before his birthday) then on the day of his birthday his s/o comes up to him practically jumping up and down from happiness and tells him they have a big present for him. Turns out his s/o made a spell where his mothers ghost is visible for 24 hours but she cannot touch anything and is only visible for him and his s/o to see:)

The only draw back is that after the 24 hours his s/o is SUPER tired and can’t even walk for a couple of weeks bc it took a lot out of them

A happy ending for him and his s/o<3

Ty and have a great day<3

Oooo I love this one.

A very special birthday surprise

The time around his birthday is hard enough for Jason as it is. But now you have been rather distant for days now, always coming up with excuses when he tries to spend time with you. But you also seem so damn *happy* all of the time. His mind keeps coming up with terrible scenarios, of you planning to leave him or seeing someone else, or…

What would he do then? No matter how enraged he would be, he couldn’t imagine ever hurting you. Could he just let you go?

His birthday is just 24 hours away. Maybe you just wanted to wait until after that to leave, so you wouldn’t make the day that keeps bringing back his worst memories even worse for him. Now during these 24 hours, he barely sees you. You are hiding in your little witchey corner, and he hears you softly mumbling to yourself, though it almost sounds like you are holding an actual conversation with someone who is responding to you.

Jason stares at the old clock you brought in from one of the cabins. Just fiften more seconds to midnight.

Had he done anything to deserve you ignoring him like this? The past years, you spent almost his entire birthday snuggled up to him, trying to drown out the painful memories with your love and affection.

Ten seconds.

Was it the last group of campers? Has he been too brutal to them, and scared you off?

Five seconds.

Either way, learning to live without you again would be heartbreaking. Just another scar in his psyche.

One second. And exactly on the stroke of midnight, the curtain sectioning your witching-corner off from the rest of your shack parts and you step out.

“Happy Birthday, Jason”, you say with a smile.

But Jason barely notices you. Because next to you stands the semi-transparent form of his mother, smiling at him with tears in her eyes.

You sheepishly scratch the back of your neck. “I figured you might wanna spend your birthday with your mom again, so I gathered everything I needed to make her spirit visible for you, at least for the duration of your birthday. I wanted it to be a surprise and it needed a lot of preparation, that’s why I was so distant from you lately, so… Happy Birthday.”

Within a split second you find yourself side to side with the icy presence of Pamela, pressed against Jason’s broad chest. His arms go right through her body, but she is acting like she is getting hugged anyway.

“Oh Jason”, Pamela says in the hollow voice typical for ghosts. “My special… special boy. I’m so sorry… For everything you had to go through.”

Jason squeezes both of you even tighter for a second, hot tears dripping from underneath his mask.

“I… uh…”, you start, despite the tight hug making speaking a bit difficult. “I also got us some cake and soda.” You free your arms and cub his cheeks with your hands. “So what do you say we celebrate your birthday properly this year?”

[pepsichrry]

I see you write for regulus, and wondered if you would be up to writing something like reader and regulus saying their goodbyes before he leaves to destroy the locket ? 🙏🏻🫶🏻

Hey!! I’m back from the dead since it’s easter and I’m not really busy with assignments anymore (sorry about that)! I’d love to write this bc I’d like to write a little bit of angst once in a while..

Malicious || Regulus A. Black

Summary: Regulus leaves to destroy the first Horcrux, but you aren’t ready to see him leave.

Set during the Marauders Era!

Warnings: Angst

—————————————————————————

The day that Kreacher returned back at Grimmauld Place was the day that something shifted in Regulus. It hadn’t been long until you started to notice his change in behaviour, it was as though someone had reached their hand inside of his body and flipped a biological switch beyond his very thoughts and feelings. Something had changed about him, the very essence of his being. Perhaps that was why you never saw him anymore.

He’d pace around his bedroom, careless of the creaking floorboards beneath his feet. He’d shake like a leaf, a result of the meals that he skipped. As soon as he was approached, he’d look right through you as though you weren’t even there, that, you couldn’t explain.

Ever since you’d known Regulus he had been nothing short of doting and kind to you, a stark difference of how he seemed to treat everyone else, so when he began to act so strangely, it led you to wonder if he was only treating you how he treated everyone else, like you were nothing special to him. But that couldn’t be it, you thought. Despite the fact that Regulus hadn’t planted his gentle kiss on your lips or even so much as looked in your direction, you were sure you hadn’t done anything to incur his behaviour. He confirmed your idea one evening.

The sun had frightfully dried away the earth that summer, leaving the nation boiled within an inch of their lives, and Grimmauld Place was no exception despite the various cooling charms cast over the property, the sun still managed to beam over the horizon and warm the air unpleasantly. June had bled into July, then July into August and you couldn’t seem to recall where it had gone, slipping through your mind like sand in a glass timer, it had disappeared like all of your worries of school or work. You seemed to be peaceful.

Regulus joined you that evening outside in the back garden, a pitcher of icy cucumber water between you on the cast iron table. You took small sips of your water to pass the time that you spent in peaceful, albeit awkward, silence.

It was after a while that you decided to break the silence, desperate to cling on the fact that you finally had your gorgeous Fiancé all to yourself since he had proposed just a month earlier, despite your lack of conversation in the past few weeks. You slipped your leg across the ground and nudged your ankle against his own, causing him to look up from his glass of water and over to you.

You sent him a fond smile, which he replied with a weak expression of his own, like he was trying to smile, but his body wouldn’t allow it.

“What’s going on in that complex head of yours?” You called over the summers breeze like the far off song of a record player. Regulus could barely hear your soft words through the noise in his head, but he managed to hold eye contact as you asked him the most difficult question he’d been posed.

“Nothing and everything, all at once.” He admitted. It wasn’t uncommon for Regulus to speak in rhymes of some sort, he was so intelligent that his brain couldn’t help but find away to make everything about him poetic.

Your smile grew and you reached a hand across the table to graze his knuckles. “I know there’s something, Reggie. I’d have to be blind not to notice how you’ve been acting lately. It’s like something has possessed you.”

His palm opened, revealing the lines of his soft hand, allowing you access to draw shapes over his skin with your fingertips.

“I’ve been researching some things.” He told you with a blank stare.

“About a job?” You wondered. You and Regulus had just left Hogwarts, ready to embark on your life together. It was why Regulus had proposed nearly as soon as you left school, he said he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

You’d drawn out a plan as you lay together in the four poster bed of his dorm room in fourth year. You’d marry as soon as possible, Regulus would propose with the family ring, passed down for centuries by his ancestors. You’d be wed by the end of the year and Regulus would find you somewhere to live and he’d work a fantastically boring ministry job, just so you wouldn’t have to. He wanted you to stay at home and live lavishly, just like he’d been taught, and you didn’t mind the idea, as long as the both of you were happy.

Regulus shook his head across from you. “No, not quite.”

You frowned at his answer. Regulus used to tell you everything, but now, it seemed as though he felt that he couldn’t.

“Reggie, you can tell me anything, you know that.” You reminded him honestly. It had always been you that he turned to, when he had received his dark mark two years prior, he sought you out to tell you about it, teary eyed and writhing in searing pain, but oh, so proud. When he received O’s on almost every exam in his N.E.W.T.s, you were the first to know, his joy was infectious and he held you so tightly you thought you were going to burst. When his parents had died only seven months earlier, he found you clutching the very same letter at the dinner table as he’d received, you’d gone back to his dorm room and sat in astonished silence until he was ready to talk. When Kreacher returned home last month after assisting the dark lord, half dead and shaken, he allowed a few tears to fall out of frustration as he sat beside you in the living room, obviously conflicted about what he could possibly do next. That was when he had changed.

He mulled your words over for a moment until he nodded slowly. “I know, Mon Amour. I know.”

Your heart soared once again, revelling in the feeling of Regulus’ affection once more. But there was still a feeling nudging as your insides, telling you, deep in your gut, that there was something bigger than you going on.

No other words were exchanged that late summers evening, not until the very last day of the month.

Only when september was creeping around the corner, did something finally shift, something that you wished had just stayed still like you were willing to.

On the 31st of August, 1979, Regulus had nearly been at the front door when he heard you call his name from the top of the stairs. It was nearing the middle of the night when you’d woken up to a cold and empty bed, the only hint that there had been anyone else there at all was the distinct smell of Regulus, his hair, his clothes, his very body. It still lingered on your sheets.

“What are you doing?” You had a feeling that you already knew that he was leaving for whatever reason.

Regulus looked up to you, your silky white nightgown pouring over you like milk, your soft hair falling over your shoulder in its braid, your soft and tired expression as you slowly descended down the stairs.

“Mon Amour.” He breathed, as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

In that moment, Regulus wondered what you’d look like in a wedding dress. This task that he set himself guaranteed that he would most likely never make it to your wedding, that that moment might be the only one where he’d see you in a white dress walking towards him. Except you didn’t carry the gleaming expression he hoped you would, but deep confusion as you’d been roused from your gentle, dreamy sleep.

The second your bare foot met the hallway floorboards, he began to approach you. That was when you noticed that he was fully dressed, head to toe in black wizards robes, like he was prepared to go somewhere in the middle of the night.

“Are you leaving?” You ask calmly as you took in his appearance, calmer than you ever thought you would be at the mere idea of Regulus leaving you.

He didn’t say a word, he didn’t dare to. He looked upon you with a guilty expression that said it all, tears welled in his eyes, and you couldn’t bear to look. It was one thing seeing him upset, but it was another for him to be upset because of something you asked. You could read him like a book.

You sunk down onto the lowest step of the stairs, hardly feeling your trembling legs.

“Listen to me.” He said softly in the dim lights, dark curls falling over his forehead. He knelt before you, not like how he would when he didn’t want to get his clothes dirty, or how he would as though he expected to get up straight after, but rather he felt to both of his knees like he would beg of you for help or pray for your blessing. But you couldn’t give him either and you both knew it. “I have to leave.”

You frowned at him, now level with you as he looked so small before you. He had lost weight, more than needed, and he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink in Merlin knew how long.

“You don’t have to do anything.” You reminded him, because as far as you knew, he didn’t.

“Mon Amour, you may not understand what is waiting for me now, but I pray that you will one day-“ You go to cut him off, to ask him what he means, but he presses a cool finger to your lips before you could speak. “One day, you’ll realise that it’s my responsibility to stop this now. That only I can stop this now.”

Your brows pull together as salty tears began to pool in your eyes. You wanted to grip onto him and beg him to stay but the determination in his eyes told you not to. Perhaps that was why you had been to calm seeing him by the front door, because you knew that there was nothing that you could do to stop him, that it was out of your control, that he wasn’t yours to stop anymore, he wasn’t the same Regulus as he was those weeks before, red-cheeked and bashful as he knelt on one knee as though he worshipped you. Now he knelt as though he was sorry.

“Why can’t you just explain why you’re leaving? What can I do? What can I do to make you stay, Reggie?” You grappled onto him as he pulled your shaking body towards him.

You both lay a crumpled heap on the floor as he tried his very best to soothe your sobs and tears, hand brushing over your hair and laboured breaths on your bare shoulders. He was barely holding it together, something so awful to you, but it gave you hope that maybe he did care enough to stay.

His hot tears burnt at your body as they fell from his eyes, but you didn’t flinch, you only clung onto him tighter with that tiniest spark of hope dwindling inside of you.

“All will be explained after I leave. There is a letter in your dresser, just look for it and you’ll know everything.” He said quietly, guiltier than he’d ever been before. You cried louder in his arms, hope fizzled out like the miserable stifling of a melting candle.

You tried to push him off of you, but he clung to you like a limpet. No matter how much you wriggled or hit him, screamed of kicked him, you wouldn’t let you go, not until you cried yourself into a deep sleep in the comfort of his arms for the very last time, such an innocent sleep that you never would have dreamed that when you woke up, he wouldn’t be there.

As the summer disappeared into the first day of September, so did your Regulus, as you slept soundly against the cold floorboards of the lonely house, never to see your love again.

-1st September, 1979

[taetaespeaches]

“So this is heartbreak, huh?”

jimin x reader (oc) genre: angst word count: 1.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Sorry this is a little late but I hope it’s at least somewhat worth the wait. In this, reader/Dear is dealing with the loss of Jimin during the period of their brief breakup. (So Jimin only appears through being talked about). She can’t get him out of her mind, and she’s realizing she doesn’t actually want him out. Oh, Peaches (Taehyung’s to be girlfriend) is also in this. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading :))

For three weeks you had been waiting for the anger to take over. As your best friend dug through your grocery bags and filled your cupboards with the items, you stood against the kitchen counter, tense and horrifyingly not angry.

You should be furious at the betrayal you felt. If your life was a movie, surely you would have already gathered up his shit and everything that reminded you of him in a box, ready to be tossed out or at least dropped off at his place. The problem was that everything reminded you of him. And every item of significance sat around your apartment like some kind of memorial to the man and the shared life you lost.

The persistent thoughts of him wouldn’t be so unbearable if only you could conjure up the fury inside you and remember the negative sides of the man. Like the fact that he broke up with through a text while on tour in another country. But you couldn’t make yourself hate him. You couldn’t bring yourself to come up with reasons to not still love him. You couldn’t even convince yourself to be mad at him. Not really. Not mad enough to drown out the longing.

He broke up with you over text while touring in another country. It was so unlike Jimin, but he did it. That one thing should have been enough to make you despise him, have you throwing his shit out the window, dismantling every last bit of the life you built together, that you were still building. Yet you were still standing there at the counter thinking of him, loving him with every fiber of your being, waiting for him to give you a reason to forgive him.

“How has work been?” Your best friend asked, drawing your attention to her, the tension in your knuckles as you squeezed the edge of the counter easing just a bit.

You sighed, moving your head back and forth to silently say, so so. “It’s hard being around kids. To be honest.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I wish we could just- I don’t know. Just take off for a couple weeks.”

“I’m not sure it would turn out any different than our weekend away,” you forced a pathetic smile. The girl had taken you out of town for a weekend and you had spent the entire time crying in the hotel room, under the influence of copious amounts of wine. Self-medication. “That was so sad, I didn’t even get drunk at some bar.”

The girl shrugged, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Drunk is drunk.” You snorted, nodding in agreement.

“One of these days I’m gonna drink enough to get really fucking mad instead of just-” you shook your head. “You know.”

You began helping put away your own groceries as she watched you carefully for a moment. Since the breakup you had been relying on your friend so much, you were riddled with guilt despite her telling you daily that she wouldn’t want to be doing anything else. The sentiment was sweet but you figured she wasn’t being entirely truthful. Surely she didn’t actually want to be putting your groceries away for you and wiping your tears every single night.

At least you’d moved back into your apartment, giving her her own space back. Plus, you did your own grocery shopping. Baby steps and small victories.

“Since when do you eat spicy ramen?” Your friend suddenly asked, holding up two containers of the food. She had her eyebrows pulled together in question, your expression mimicking hers because it was a good question. You didn’t like spicy food.

You eyed the packaging, your heart feeling so heavy and sharp in your chest you weren’t sure how long you could even continue carrying its weight and all its jagged edges. “I don’t,” you whispered, your eyes finding the girls as she realized your mistake. “Jimin does-”

“-I’ll eat it,” she quickly said, talking over you as she put it back in the grocery sack and shoving the plastic into her tote bag.

“Jimin does? Jimin did? Past tense?” You pondered your own wording. “I don’t know how to refer to him. He’s not fucking dead but like, he’s not here,” you scoffed, inhaling deeply, trying to ignore the way it shook as you exhaled. “I don’t really know what Jimin does anymore.”

“Babe,” your friend spoke sadly, taking a step toward you but not moving any closer. She was always so careful with providing space, careful not to take up too much of it.

“So this is heartbreak, huh?” you shook your head at yourself, at your situation. “Buying spicy ramen for people who aren’t even here.”

“You’re allowed to take time.”

“Maybe the wound is too fresh but- I honestly don’t know how time is ever going to heal this.”

“I just wish I could be mad, you know? Like I am mad. I’m angry, I know I am. But more than anything I’m just- I miss him so much. I’m so fucking sad. I want the anger to take over, I want to want to set his shit on fire and cast him off as an asshole but- I can’t. Because I love him. And I know him. He’s not an asshole. He did an asshole thing but-”

“I know.”

“It’s Jimin.”

“I know.”

That was when you finally noticed how much this was hurting your friend, as well as you. Maybe that was your reason to be mad- he dragged your two closest friends into this mess. It wasn’t just a rift between two people, but rather four people. The girl tending to your every need knew Jimin before you did. They were friends first. And now she was left not knowing how to feel about him, not knowing if their relationship would ever be the same again. You didn’t even want to think about the fear that would inevitably be instilled within her and Taehyung, setting them even further back from taking the jump from friends to lovers. You knew she would look at this and come to the conclusion that these things don’t work. It didn’t pan out for you, after all.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, trying to brush off the rawness of your emotions.

“Stop saying that,” she lightly scolded. “You’re allowed to be upset, and you’re allowed to talk about that. Especially with me.”

You weren’t sure you should be talking about it with her. She had a strong and sincere affinity for Jimin, you knew you were putting her in a difficult situation. An impossible situation. But she was your friend, your rock, and she was offering. And you were selfish. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath. “Will I ever stop wanting him?”

“I don’t know.” It wasn’t the answer you were hoping for, but you knew it was the honest one.

“You know he sleeps all day on his days off. All fucking day,” you complained suddenly, making the girl raise her eyebrows slightly as she tried to gage your emotions. “And he’s so dramatic, so much of what he does is so over the top,” you continued, spewing your grievances with the man.

“That’s true,” she responded tentatively. You were trying to convince yourself that these traits actually qualified as negatives to Jimin. She knew that.

“And the attitude on him,” you scoffed halfheartedly, failing to fool yourself.

“He’s very sassy,” she whispered.

Shaking your head, you thought of the times you had walked into your apartment after a long day of work to find Jimin curled up in bed, lifting his messy head of hair and flashing you a smile through his puffy, sleep-filled features. You loved finding him like that. You loved crawling into bed with him. You loved that he’d sneak away as you fell into slumber to make you breakfast for dinner.

And you loved his dramatic nature. He was so animated, like his face was made just to express every emotion as fully as he felt them. Jimin was always so enthusiastic, loving every bit of life that was given to him. You even loved his attitude, even encouraging petty bickering to release his sass. It was both adorable and sexy, and you also loved when it was directed at other people. He was one of the few people who could top your attitude.

“I wanna be angry,” you finally admitted through tears, watching the girl nod her head in understanding through your blurry vision.

“But it’s ok to just be sad,” she assured you, stepping closer to you.

“The anger would be easier to carry,” you said as the first tear slipped down your cheek, making a trail for more to follow.

Suddenly, her arms were around you as she tucked the side of your face against her shoulder. “It would be,” she whispered into your hair at the back of your head.

Staring at the girl’s tote, thinking of Jimin, you wondered if he was also running into you in everything he came across. As he bought his own spicy ramen, you wondered if he bought the mild version along with it, out of habit and consideration of you. You wondered if he thought of you, and if he did, did he imagine you angry? Did he think you were letting go, forgetting about him, moving on? If he knew you bought spicy ramen because he never left your mind, would he want to take back his actions?

“I just miss him.”

You’d keep missing him. You’d miss him on the couch, in the bedroom, as you stood in your classroom in front of your students, as you passed by his band’s advertisements all across the city, in the grocery aisle, and every time you looked at your phone and saw no new notifications from him.

Your heart would keep breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. You’d keep hoping he’d come back, give you a reason to forgive him. Give you a chance to forgive him. It would take time, he’d have to be careful and patient as he put the pieces back together. But you’d keep hoping.

“It’s ok to miss him. Just miss him,” the girl told you as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flood of emotions pouring from your eyes.

“Can you leave the ramen?” You asked. Your friend ran a soothing hand up and down your back as she nodded. You just wanted it there.

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

WIP Wednesday

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Please enjoy some angst from my TK's growing up years fic -

2017 -

TK couldn’t help but fidget as he sat there. He was sitting on the couch in his dad’s office. He had no idea why. They’d returned from a call, and then there was his dad. He said, “Get your gear off and come up to my office, okay?” And TK nodded and did just that; then he barely had enough time to worry about what this was about. Then when he got to his dad’s office, the phone rang. It was the captain of the 269; Owen mouthed “sorry” as he motioned for TK to sit down and then he stepped out of his own office. And that left TK to sit and stew in his own anxieties.

Which, it hadn’t even been ten minutes yet. But TK was pretty sure that the other guys from the 252 knew that TK was up here. If they didn’t, they surely would the longer he sat and waited.

It had only been 42 days since TK had returned to work after rehab; and he had spent every day doing his best not to draw attention to himself and act like he hadn’t been gone for 30 days.

Of course, he thought bitterly to himself as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, it’s not like any of them would say anything to his face, anyway. They never did before; it didn’t stop TK from learning what they called him behind his back.

TK started to peel at the fingernail on his index finger. He had this down to a science; he knew the exact spot to stop where if he continued, he’d getting down to the quick, and it would start to bleed. His nail was diminishing; the point of no return was getting closer.

“I think you’re getting close to the bone there”. TK jumped at his dad’s voice. He sat up straighter as his dad re-entered the office and sat on the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry about the wait,” his dad said, squeezing TK’s shoulder gently. “There’s been a problem at the 269. One of their guys might be joining us here”.

“Oh”. TK nodded. “Cool”. He watched as his dad got up and came to sit down next to him. “So,” TK said with a shrug, “what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in with you,” Owen answered. “See how you were doing”.

“I’m fine”. TK shrugged. “Everything’s good”.

“Your mother said you might have found a place,” his dad prompted.

“Uh huh”. TK nodded. “But I can’t afford it without having her co-sign, so I’m still looking. Which, I told her this is why people have roommates; not like we don’t live in the most expensive city in the world, and—”

“And you haven’t had the best luck with roommates, son,” his dad chided him gently. “And you’re starting over, it’d be better for you not to have to worry what someone else is bringing home”.

TK groaned. “Dad, very little of what happened is Avery’s fault. And,” he stood up, “if there isn’t a reason for us to be doing this now, I’m on laundry today, and I really want to—”

“Well, there is a reason,” his dad rose to his feet as well. “And I’m afraid that it can’t wait. I need you to sit back down”. He put his hands firmly on his son’s shoulders. TK glared for a minute before he allowed his dad to gently push him back down towards the couch.

“Okay, what?” TK snapped. “What is so important?”

Owen exhaled slowly. “I just wanted to check in with you. See if there was anything you wanted to tell me… before I found out some other way?” TK racked his brain for anything, any amount of time unaccounted for that would have led to this line of questioning.

“No”. TK shook his head. “Dad, just ask me what you’re going to ask me. Get it over with”.

Owen exhaled slowly. “I’m not accusing you of anything,” he began. “But two weeks in a row you were gone at the same day for the same amount of time. Last Wednesday—”

“Oh my God,” TK buried his face in his hands. “You know, you really missed your calling as a private eye”.

“I was doing the assembly for the career fair,” his dad continued, undeterred, “which you had also originally signed up for. I was told you had taken your name off for an appointment. Then yesterday, same thing happened. After the call at the drycleaners, you mysteriously disappeared, and resurfaced around dinner. I’ve got a rational amount of concern for the situation”.

“Yeah, except you have no idea what the situation is,” TK grumbled. “And I did have an appointment. I didn’t lie about that”.

“I didn’t say you did,” his dad replied. “Who was the appointment with?” TK leaned his head back on the couch. “Why do you have to know?” TK asked.

“You know exactly why, kid,” his dad murmured. He reached over and ran a hand through his son’s hair amidst TK’s protests. “The door is closed, no one can see you”. He reminded his son. “Might I remind you, I believed you when you told me you were fine four months ago. I believed you when you said the group therapy was helping. I want more than anything to believe you… but I’m somewhat terrified of what will happen if I do”.

TK hated what his dad was saying; and hated even more that he couldn’t argue with any of it. So much for this being a good surprise. “Fine”. He sighed. “You win. It’s Hazel McLaughlin”.

“Oh”. Not the answer Owen was expecting. “She works out of the 243. How’d you meet her?”

“I got her name from Diana Pink”. TK hugged his arms to his chest. “Then I sent her a message on Facebook. With Lyle gone, she’s the only person I know who’s dual certified. She’s been helping me study to take the test. To be a dual certified firefighter and paramedic”.

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