#i thought it was more low key than dressing up fancy and going dancing

[guinevereslancelot]

oh shit what's the etiquette for having a date over to watch a movie i just realized i haven't done this since high school and never w a new relationship why did i think this was a good second date activity 🫣

[nahoney22]

Stranger, Saviour

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❀ Secret Princess Series

❀ Crosshair X Female Princess Reader

❀ Word Count: 4.6k

♔ Plot: When a stranger saves you from some ruffians, you’re quite curious about him. And as he takes you to safety, soon he will find out that he is quite curious about you, too.

♔ Warnings: Safe for work, Princess reader, hidden identity, strict parents, canon-typical violence, reader is a victim of attempted robbery, moody Crosshair, fluff, light angst, flirting, first kiss.

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"We're not going to ask again. Hand over everything you have."

This was far from how you’d imagined your quiet walk into the city would end. What started as a rare moment of freedom and to take life into your own hands for once, had now spiraled into something dangerous as a Rodian presses a blade to your throat.

You were a Princess or the Princess. People often believed that being royalty meant living without limitations, but that was never the case for you. Your parents, though loving, were strict when it came to your safety. Everything was annoyingly controlled which included your want to go on outings whether to a restaurant, bar, shopping. Literally anything.

So when you asked them about visiting the city, their hesitation was predictable. They insisted on sending a troop of guards with you but that wasn’t the escape you were looking for. With frustration bubbling inside you, you had retorted, perhaps more sharply than intended, “Forget it. It’s not freedom if I can’t breathe without someone hovering.”

Therefore as the morning rolled round the next day, you felt rebellious. You snuck out.

Dressed in a simple cloak with a hood, you thought you’d be able to blend in. No fancy gowns, no glittering jewels to give away your identity. But despite your effort to stay low-key, your behaviour gave you away.

Every market stall just called to you! There were so many incredible things you just wanted to have your hands on and with each purchase you made, you unknowingly broadcasted your wealth in the process. It wasn’t long before some reprobates spotted you.

You'd wandered down a narrow alley when you realised you were suddenly trapped. A human male blocked the exit ahead, while the Rodian held his blade steady behind you.

“I suggest you both move along,” you warned, voice sharper than you felt as you clutch tightly onto your bag of possessions. They inched closer, and your confidence drained from you with each step they took.

"We only want one thing from you," the human growled, eyes on your bag. You found yourself backed against a wall, your breathing turning shallow as panic crept in.

Despite your attempts at bravery, the Rodian growled in frustration, his blade pressing harder to your neck when you didn’t cooperate quickly enough. Just as fear began to overtake you, the unmistakable sound of blaster fire echoed through the alley. In an instant, both of your assailants dropped to the ground with a thud.

You ducked instinctively, arms covering your head, heart pounding in your chest. The sharp metallic smell of blaster fire filled the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up, fearing the worst that you’ll be shot next.

“You can get up.”

The voice was smooth, velvety, but there was an edge to it. Tentatively, you raised your head, your gaze finding a tall figure standing over you. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, and a toothpick danced between his lips.

"I—I—" Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand, overwhelmed by what just happened. You stumbled, and before you could fall, a firm hand caught you, surprisingly gentle but firm.

“You’re fine,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes.

Rude much? His nonchalance almost made you scoff, as if you hadn’t just had a blade pressed to your throat moments before.

“Move along,” the man said, nodding toward the exit. You start to move before you almost trip, you glanced down at the two crumpled bodies and gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

He chuckled softly and almost mockingly, nudging one of the unconscious men with his boot. “Relax. They’re not dead. Just stunned.”

You looked up at him, finally taking in his appearance. He had a tattoo over one sharp eye, and features so defined, it was almost intimidating. His eyes, piercing and focused, seemed to size you up with each glance. You had never seen someone so striking, and your awe must have been obvious, because he raised a brow, his gaze hardening.

“You gonna thank me, or are you just going to keep staring?”

Your cheeks burned as you noticed you hadn’t said a word. “Thank you sir,” you muttered, voice weak.

Without a word, he turned and began to walk away, and you watched him go, still too stunned to move. The two men at your feet remained unconscious, and despite his reassurance, fear still kept you rooted in place.

He must have sensed you weren’t following, because after a few steps, he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder with an impatient sigh. “It’s best you move before they wake up,” he said, his tone rough but not unkind.

You sniffled softly, a little overwhelmed. Your legs felt weak, and your mind was swimming with too many thoughts. You weren’t sure what you should do, or if you could even trust this man who had just saved you. But then again, you weren’t sure you had much of a choice.

He turned back toward you, his brow furrowing slightly as he approached again. “Are you going to move, or do I have to carry you?” He said it flatly, like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“ I can’t,” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know where to go.”

He glanced at the alley's dark corners before focusing back on you. “You need to get out of here,” he muttered. “I can… take you somewhere if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather not but I can’t just leave you here, can I?” He mutters once more.

His bluntness should have been off-putting, but something about him gave you a strange sense of reassurance.

You follow him as he leads you out of the shadows and into the light, winding through narrow alleyways and side streets. He doesn’t look back, moving at a brisk pace. The silence hangs heavy between you, and finally, you work up the nerve to speak.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Somewhere safe,” he replies without breaking stride.

You huff in frustration. “And where’s that?”

He stops suddenly, and you nearly bump into his back as he turns to face you. “Does it matter?” he asks, looking you up and down with an eyebrow raised.

You narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “I’d still like to know where a stranger is taking me,” you insist, “and I’d also like to know your name.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze lingering just a beat too long as though he’s trying to make sense of you. But then he smirks, slipping back into his aloof demeanor. “Would you rather I left you back there?” he asks, moving a step closer.

Your mouth opens to respond, but his smirk deepens, knowing he has the upper hand. “Exactly,” he mutters, pulling a toothpick from his lips and flicking it to the ground. “Come on.”

You roll your eyes but follow, still annoyed that he hadn’t answered your question. A few minutes pass in silence as you trail behind, taking in the sights and sounds around you. However you soon notice you had drifted slightly off track from being distracted when you hear him mumble something under his breath.

“What was that?” you ask, moving to catch up to him. But just as you step forward, he stops abruptly. You stumble into a large puddle, splashing murky water with who-knows-what else on your shoes.

He turns with an unimpressed glance. “I did warn you,” he says, not quite hiding a smirk.

You look down with a grimace at your drenched feet. “These were expensive.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Stop acting like such a Princess.”

There’s a flicker of annoyance in you, but a thought crosses your mind. Testing his reaction, you pull down your hood, meeting his gaze directly, waiting for recognition to flash in his eyes. But his expression remains unimpressed and unchanged, his attitude dismissive, which somehow feels…refreshing. For the first time, someone treated you like just another person.

There’s a split second where his expression softens, but he looks away before you can be sure. “Are we going or not?” he drawls, already turning to lead the way.

You purse your lips, holding back a retort. Still, you step forward out of the puddle and on ahead, pulling your hood back up and moving past him. You half expect him to comment, but he just follows without a word.

Crosshair moves through the crowded streets like he owns them, his steps steady, calm, and without a backward glance. You follow, trying to keep pace, though questions run wild in your mind.

"Are we nearly there?" you ask.

“No.” he replies, his tone curt.

You want to push, but there’s something in his voice, a kind of finality that keeps you quiet. And so you continue in silence. He’s a soldier, no doubt about it. You have met many like him but also many not like him. He holds a mystery that you strangely found alluring.

Eventually, he stops at a small diner, the kind of place you would have walked right past without a glance. It didn’t stand out by all means but perhaps that you needed… “This is the ‘safe’ place?” You ask skeptically but only receive a grumble in response.

He gestures to you inside, giving you enough room to slip in first. At least he had manners somewhere.

Once inside, he leads you to a corner booth and leaves briefly to get drinks. You take in the humble surroundings, feeling out of place. It was definitely different to the grand dining rooms you were used to. But it felt somehow homely.

When he returns, he slides a drink across the table toward you, then settles into the seat across from you.

“So…your name?” you venture, trying to sound casual. You didn’t want to spend another five minutes in complete silence with him.

He watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether you’re worth answering, then says, “Crosshair.”

You repeat the name silently, trying to understand why it suits him so perfectly. He doesn’t ask for your name, but after a small pause, you offer it anyway.

If your name stirs any recognition, he hides it well. In fact, he doesn’t react at all, just takes a sip of his drink, gaze sliding away from you and out to the street.

You’re used to people treating you with deference or admiration, but Crosshair’s attitude was unfiltered. It makes you want to ask more questions, to understand him, even if he doesn’t want you to.

“So, what is it you do?” you ask, hoping he’ll give you something atleast.

“I’m a soldier.” His tone is clipped, disinterested, making it clear he’s not one to chat.

But just then, the door hisses open, and your stomach clenches as two familiar figures stride in: the human and the Rodian from the alley. You feel yourself stiffen, dread rising in your throat as you watch them scan the room, clearly searching for someone.

Crosshair doesn’t notice right away, but your tension must give you away. He sets his drink down and leans forward, his gaze cutting to you with startling intensity. “Eyes on me,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “Don’t look at them.”

You try, your heart racing as you focus on him, but fear keeps tugging your gaze back to the pair. It takes all your willpower to keep your eyes on Crosshair, to draw comfort from his unflinching calm.

As the two men approach your booth, Crosshair’s hand slips to his blaster, and before you even realize what’s happening, he’s fired twice, each shot precise and stunning. The men collapse to the floor with a thud, unconscious.

Gasps fill the diner, patrons staring in shock. Crosshair tosses a few credits onto the table, unfazed. He meets your eyes, his gaze steady but with a hint of impatience. “Come on,” he says, his tone firm as he reaches for your hand.

Heart pounding, you cling tightly to Crosshair’s hand, and despite your best effort to steady yourself, you can’t bring yourself to let go. The whole city seems darker, every shadow stretching out like it’s hiding something dangerous. Crosshair glances back at you as he leads you further down an alleyway, his expression unreadable, but he doesn’t let you go.

When out of sight, he finally pauses near a quiet courtyard. “Stay here,” he says firmly. “I need to make sure we’re clear.”

“No,” you say quickly, tightening your grip, the word slipping out before you can stop it. A deep-rooted nervousness tugs at your insides. Your parents always warned you that the town wasn’t a safe place a lot of the time but you’d shrugged it off carelessly, eager for a moment of freedom.

Crosshair raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your reaction, and glances down at your hand wrapped tightly around his. There’s a flicker in his gaze, a hint of something almost soft, like he’s unaccustomed to the gesture, to anyone holding onto him this way. But then he meets your gaze and, with an edge of gentleness, says, “I’ll come back. You’ll be safe. Just give me a minute.”

The promise in his voice is enough for you to finally nod, though reluctantly. He slips his hand from yours, and you’re struck by how cold your palm feels without his. Your anxiety twists as you watch him disappear around a corner, leaving you alone with only a handful of curious strangers occasionally passing by, throwing you odd glances.

Minutes drag on, feeling like an eternity, and with each passing one, doubt starts to creep in. Maybe this had all been a mistake—sneaking out, wandering alone, putting yourself in harm's way.

But just as panic starts to tighten your chest, you hear footsteps returning. Relief passes through you as Crosshair reappears, his gaze flicking over you to check if you’re unharmed. He gives a single, satisfied nod and moves to stand closer. The smallest smirk tugs at his mouth as if he finds your relief mildly amusing.

“Didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?” he asks, his tone as unreadable as ever, but his presence alone feels like a reassurance you didn’t expect to need.

You let out a soft laugh, though the relief is unmistakable. “Honestly? I wasn’t too sure.”

Crosshair smirks, a low hum escaping him. His gaze drops to the bag you’re clutching. “You must have something valuable in there, considering the fuss you’ve caused.”

You shift your hold on it instinctively. The last thing you want is for him to realise exactly who you are, although, somehow, you sense he’s not the type to treat you differently even if he knew. “It’s nothing.”

Crosshair lets it slide, simply shrugging before jerking his head forward. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

“Where exactly are we going?” you ask for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to keep up with his long strides.

He lets out a sigh, finally giving in. “My ship. That safe enough for you, Princess?”

You squirm slightly at the title, but he doesn’t seem to mean it in the literal sense. “Your ship?”

“Yeah. I’m not from around here.” He pauses, then adds, “I’m a clone. Part of an elite squad.” He says, almost smug. “Though I don’t expect you have heard of us.”

“I know of clones,” you say, “but I haven’t met anyone like you.”

He chuckles, the sound low but enough to make you smile. “No one’s like me.” His tone has a hint of pride. He keeps his responses short, but as you keep asking questions, he doesn’t seem to mind too much.

As you both turn a corner, however, your heart freezes. You spot a pair of royal guards, your royal guards. One of them holding a holographic puck with your face displayed.

They’re moving down the street, stopping people andquestioning them with urgency. It’s obvious: your parents have realised you’re gone, and the city is on alert.

Your pulse races, and you quickly lean against a nearby stall, pretending to inspect some wares with your back to the guards. Crosshair glances at you with a raised eyebrow, his gaze clearly questioning your sudden interest in a basket of random trinkets.

But it’s no use. As the guards come closer, one of them notices Crosshair and pauses, squinting at him with suspicion.

“Excuse me, sir,” the guard says, lifting the puck. “Have you seen this young woman? We’re searching for her. She’s… important.”

Your breath catches, and you hold it, refusing to look up, though you can feel the weight of Crosshair’s gaze as he slowly turns his head to you. The silence stretches uncomfortably as he studies you, the guard, then the puck, and at last, shrugs.

“No,” he says with a drawl, barely concealing his irritation. “Haven’t seen her.”

When the guard finally moves on, Crosshair growls and leans down, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Can I have a word?”

Before you can protest, his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, pulling you away from prying eyes. When he eventually stops, he releases you, turning with that intense glare you’ve come to recognise. Yeah, he looked pissed.

You pull down your hood, trying to ease the tension with a nervous laugh. “So… maybe I haven’t been completely honest.”

“You got that right, Princess.”

Okay, he was pissed. An eye twitched in annoyance, his smirk wiped off his face and set with an irritated tight line. There’s no avoiding it now. You take a deep breath and begin to explain. “I… well, I was bored. And I wanted to see the city without an entourage, just for a few hours. Maybe I kinda overdid it with my spending.”

“And caught the wrong attention.” He grunts with a deep frown. “You could’ve put me in danger. If your guards thought I was holding you against your will, I’d be the one shot first, no questions asked.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “I would have told them the truth, obviously. I’m not reckless.”

His eyes narrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because you’ve been so honest up to now?”

You’re about to retort, but you stop yourself. Instead, you let out a sigh, reaching out to place a hand over his. It catches him off guard, and his gaze shifts to your hand, fingers wrapped around his. He’s silent, visibly shy all of a sudden.

“Look,” you say softly, eyes meeting his. “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. I’ll pay you for your trouble if you’ll just help me get back to the palace without… you know, running into more guards.”

Crosshair’s expression shifts slightly, the hardness in his eyes softening just a little. His gaze lingers on your hand in his, a warmth rising to his cheeks, though he quickly looks away as if he hadn’t noticed it at all.

“Fine,” he mutters, clearing his throat and pulling his hand back. “But if this goes sideways, Princess, I’m gone.”

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The pair of you weave through the streets, keeping close, but there was a heavy fog and not just from the town, but from the awkwardness that lingered over you both. You felt bad, truly.

Eventually, you can’t take his brooding gaze any longer. “Are you still mad at me?”

He gives you a sidelong glance, his eyes cold. “Does it matter? Not like my opinion means much to a princess.”

You pause, a bit taken aback by his bluntness, but gather yourself quickly. “Actually… it does.” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “I… I like you.”

His gaze sharpens, a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. “Like me?”

Realising how that might have sounded, your cheeks flare with heat. “Not like that. Just, you know… You don’t treat me like everyone else does.”

“Maybe because I didn’t know who you were,” he mutters. “And maybe because you lied about it.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fine, I get it, I messed up. But I wasn’t trying to lie to you, I just…”

He cuts you off with a hand suddenly against your waist, pressing you firmly against the wall. You open your mouth to protest, and raise your hand to slap at him as your instincts kicking in, but before you can react, he catches your hand in his. He tilts his head to the side, nodding toward a nearby street, and that’s when you see them—your guards, moving in tight formation, scanning.

Your heart skips a beat as you quickly look away, trying to calm yourself. But you’re acutely aware of Crosshair’s closeness, of his hand on your waist, of the heat radiating from him as he keeps his body protectively shielding yours. His eyes stay on you, never once looking to the guards.

A tingling rush spreads through you as his gaze holds steady, unwavering. You swallow, feeling an odd thrill you hadn’t expected, and his breath brushes softly against your skin.

After a long, tense moment, Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence. “The coast is clear,” he says, his voice lower than usual, almost a whisper.

His hand slips away from your waist, and you feel an unsettling sense of cold where his warmth had just been. You swallow, finding your footing as he steps back, but the rapid beat of your pulse doesn’t quite settle as quickly.

“Thank you,” you murmur, glancing up at him. He rolls his eyes with a dry huff, crossing his arms.

“How many times do I have to save you today?” he mutters, but there’s a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You smirk back, tilting your head slightly. “Not sure. But I know you’ll protect me.”

The playful lilt in your voice makes his smile flicker just a bit wider. He clears his throat, trying to hide it, and nods forward. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

As you near the palace walls, you look around for a discreet path. “We should enter from the back. Fewer guards that way.”

He raises a brow. “Want me to stun them?”

“No!” you whisper urgently, shooting him a frown. “If they wake up, it’ll just cause more trouble. I’d rather avoid that.”

“Then there’s only one option left.” Crosshair turns and motions toward the stone wall. You swallow hard as you take in the towering height. “We’ll have to climb.”

Your eyes widen. “I definitely can’t climb that.”

He shrugs, stepping closer with a hand poised at your waist. “I’ll help you up.” There’s a certain gleam in his eye as he waits, and you suddenly wonder if he’s enjoying this just a bit.

“Admit it,” you say, a teasing edge in your voice. “You just like holding me.”

His jaw clenches slightly, and he grunts something under his breath. “Just climb.”

With a roll of your eyes, you place your hands against the rough wall, finding your footing. Crosshair’s hands are steady on your waist, giving you a firm lift, and you can’t ignore the way his touch lingers just slightly longer than necessary. As you start to scale the wall, he keeps his hands stretched beneath you in case you slip. Not like your day could get any worse, really.

You finally pull yourself to the other side, heart racing more from his touch than from the climb. Before you can even catch your breath, Crosshair’s on the wall, moving with an agile grace that’s almost mesmerising. He lands next to you with ease, dusting himself off like he hadn’t just climbed an impossible height in seconds.

“You make it look easy,” you breathe, feeling a little flustered despite yourself.

He smirks, giving a lazy shrug. “I’m just skilled.”

“Modest, too,” you quip, though a small part of you admires him even more.

He glances over at you. “Let’s get you back before you cause any more trouble.”

You take the lead, guiding Crosshair toward the palace’s quiet, less-patrolled back entrance. But before you reach it, a loud, familiar voice calls out, startling you. Your father strides toward you, his expression torn between fury and relief, surrounded by several guards.

Crosshair’s stance shifts, his body tensing as he prepares to defend himself. But you quickly step in front of him, intercepting the barrage of questions from your father.

"Who is this man? Where were you? Are you safe? What happened?"

“Father, please,” you say, holding up your hand to calm him. “I know you’re angry—I shouldn’t have left on my own, but… Crosshair saved me. Twice.”

Crosshair, his voice dry and edged with sarcasm, mutters, “Yeah. Twice.”

Your father’s gaze hardens, a mix of protectiveness and suspicion in his eyes. “You saved her? Then I suppose you want a reward?”

Crosshair’s expression remains stoic, though his eyes meet yours for a brief moment. For a heartbeat, something softer flashes across his face, but he shakes his head. “No, keep it,” he says simply, giving your father a curt nod. Then he turns to go, his smirk fading as he heads off down the dim alley.

You watch him walk away, feeling a pang of something you don’t fully understand. You stand there, rooted to the spot, your heart pounding as his figure fades into the shadows. Without thinking, you slip away from your father’s side and break into a run, calling Crosshair’s name before he’s fully out of sight.

“Is that it? No goodbye?” You, breathless once you caught up to him.

He stops, looking back at you with a raised brow and a smirk that borders on cocky. “Surprised you’ll miss me, Princess.”

You fold your arms, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself gushing at the thought of missing him. “Maybe. Will I see you again?”

He shrugs. “Doubt it. But… for you, I might reconsider if you do something naughty again.”

His words makes the blush you were forming deepen, and you sputter, “I’m not a—”

He chuckles, interrupting you smoothly. “Oh, I think you’re a little troublemaker.” He watches you for a second longer, stepping closer. He goes to leave for the final time but you don’t let him.

“Wait,” you say softly, stepping closer. “Thank you… for everything.”

Before he can respond, you reach for his hand and pull yourself near. His smirk fades into something softer, a flicker of surprise in his gaze as you quietly bring your other hand to his face, thumb tracing the edge of his tattoo. Then, with a deep breath, you lean in and press your lips softly to his.

He stiffens at first, as if processing what’s happening. But then, he relaxes, his lips moving gently against yours, his hand resting on your waist as he holds you close. When you finally pull back, he looks at you with an expression that’s completely flustered. That cocky, sharp expression vanished into the air.

A smirk plays at your lips as you ask, “What? Never kissed a princess before?”

He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, though you can still see a hint of surprise in his eyes. “No,” he murmurs, the words a little slower than usual. Then, with a faint, almost bashful smirk, he adds, “But I could get used to it.”

Your smirk deepens, heart fluttering as you step back. “Well, maybe I should cause more trouble then… if it means I’ll get to see you again.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Careful, Princess. I’m not sure you could handle the consequences.”

“Try me,” you reply, holding his gaze a moment longer. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you turn and make your way back toward the palace, a lightness in your step and his kiss lingering on your lips.

As you glance back one last time, he’s still watching, arms crossed, that familiar smirk lingering. But there’s something else there now, something that makes you certain this won’t be the last time you find yourself in trouble.

Especially if it leads back to him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼　 ҉ ✼

Please reblog to support your artists and writers 💙

♔ Part One Tech - By the Willow

♔ Part Two Crosshair - Stranger, Saviour

♔ Part Three Echo - When Stars Collide (WIP)

♔ Part Four Fives - Masquerade (WIP)

♔ Part Five Hunter - Sparks of Nobility (WIP)

♔ Part Six Wrecker - Speeding Into Love (WIP)

More Clones to Follow...

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @starqueensthings @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tentakelspektakel l @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @vodika-vibes @99tech99 @moonstrider9904 @crosshairsimp

[batbetbitbotbut]

Why am I only now discovering that A.A. Milne (of Winnie the Pooh) also wrote for adults and he is hilarious

(I know why, it's because I bought this book in a charity shop and put off reading it for months, but now I'm putting off a different book by reading this one)

These snippets are from Oranges and Lemons as published in The Sunny Side which is a collection of his short stories. The plot (as far as I have got) is that a group of 6 posh English friends go stay in a villa in France for a month.

"Pipe, tobacco, matches, keys, money?" "Everything," I said. [...] "I do know I shall be horribly late. Good-bye." I fled down the stairs into the street, waved to Myra at the window ... and then came cautiously up again for my pipe. Life is very difficult on the mornings when you are in a hurry.

--

"Have a cigar - if you've brought any with you."

--

Entered Thomas lazily. "Hallo," he said in his slow voice. "What's it all about?" "It's a raid on the Begum's palace," explained Archie rapidly. "Dahlia decoys the Chief Mucilage; you, Thomas, drive the submarine; Myra has charge of the clockwork mouse, and we others hang about and sing. To say more at this stage would be to bring about a European conflict."

--

"It must be rather difficult climbing up [to the top berth] at night," thought Dahlia. "Not if you get a good take-off, Dahlia," said Simpson earnestly. "Simpson got a good one off my face," explained Thomas. "My dear old chap, I was frightfully sorry. I did come down at once and tell you how sorry I was, didn't I?" "You stepped back on to it," said Thomas shortly, and he turned his attention to his coffee.

--

"In London," I went on, "it is raining. Looking out of my window I see a lamp-post (not in flower) beneath a low, grey sky. Here we see oranges against a blue sky a million miles deep. What a blend! Myra, let's go to a fancy-dress ball when we get back. You go as an orange and I'll go as a very blue, blue sky, and you shall lean against me." "And we'll dance the tangerine," said Myra.

--

To be five guests of the guest of a man you have never met is delicate work. [...] "We must get ouselves into proper order," he said. "Simpson, the villa has been lent to you; you must go first. Dahlia and I come next. When you arrive you will introduce us as your friends, Mr and Mrs Mannering. Then turning to Myra you say, 'Mr Mannering's sister; and this,' you add, 'is her husband.' Then - er - Thomas -" "It will be difficult to account for Thomas," I said. "Thomas comes at the end. He hangs back a little at first; and then if he sees that there is going to be any awkwardness about him, he can pretend he's come on the wrong night, and apologise and go home again."

--

There were four ladies; we shook hands with all of them. It took us a long time, and I doubt if we got it all in even so, for twice I found myself shaking hands with Simpson.

--

When Myra married me she promised to love, honour and write all my thank-you-very-much letters for me, for we agreed before the ceremony that the word "obey" should mean nothing more than that.

--

"But, my dear Myra, it's the first thing the fellows at the club ask you when you've been to the Riviera - if you've had any luck [gambling]." "Well, you've had a lot of luck," said Archie. "Several times when you've been standing on the heights and calling attention to the beautiful view below, I've said to myself, 'One push, and he's a deader,' but something, some mysterious agency within, has kept me back."

[sexynetra]

couldn't be any more random but likeee do u have any anarcia hcs bc they've taken over my life

BOY DO I okay strap in party people it’s time for anarcia headcanons part deux :)

Anetra has always been kind of insecure about the scar on her eye, and tries to cover it with makeup a lot but because of the spot it’s in and how big it is it’s hard to fully conceal. Marcia on the other hand thinks it’s part of what makes Anetra Anetra and also wants her girlfriend to fully love everything about herself, so she’s the one who suggested that she start painting the scar beautiful colors when she does her makeup and making it a beautiful highlight instead of something she feels like she should hide. Her personal favorite is when she does glitter. Anetra wasn’t sold at first but when she saw how happy it made Marcia she started to do it more and more and it honestly did help her confidence a lot and she loves the colorful accent now too!

Marcia can dance like nobody’s business, but she’s also clumsy as hell, which Anetra always teases her for but is also there to catch her and give her kisses to distract her (though Anetra loves to wear super high heels so half the time if Marcia goes tumbling and Anetra tries to catch her, they’re both going down)

You know those videos on TikTok and YouTube of people sewing like gorgeous princess ball gowns? Yeah, Anetra makes those for Marcia because she knows Marcia loves to feel like a real life Disney princess, and also she just thinks her girlfriend looks gorgeous in them. Marcia, in turn, helps Anetra make her dance costumes and cute club wear cause she knows that’s what Anetra feels the most beautiful and confident in. Every once in a while she’ll make her a gorgeous elegant gown though and they’ll go out for a fancy dinner date in their extravagant handmade dresses, looking 1000x hotter than any other couple in the place.

This one is courtesy of my friend! Marcia loves to play little jokes on their friends due to Anetras RBF. She’ll tell people that Anetras upset about something, or doesn’t like something and they always believe her cause Anetra absolutely looks like she is in a shit mood if she doesn’t actively think about her face, and then when people bring it up to Anetra she’s always very confused where people are getting that idea from. Clearly Marcia likes to be a brat sometime am I right ladies ;)

I personally believe that, like me, Anetra is a big fucking baby when she’s sick, and Marcia is low key a hypochondriac but only about Anetra cause she gets so worried seeing someone she loves so much not feel good, but she takes such good care of her and goes absolute mother mode. But it took Anetra a long time into their relationship to accept the help cause she isn’t used to being taken care of like that and she is more used to just curling up under the covers and whining about how bad she feels until it passes on it’s own. Marcia simply won’t let that stand and goes the whole 9 yards: soup, meds, cold compresses, shoulder rubs, even helping her shower (albeit they shower together most of the time anyways so this isn’t particularly novel)

As with before, my head is teeming with so many thoughts about this duo, especially after rabidly consuming any content I can find where they interact (they looked at each other once in a clip at the reunion and my friend immediately went omg Rachel look! Inspiration for your fanfic! So shoutouts to her tbh), and I love sharing my silly little headcanons that I hope you all love too 🥺 feel free to message me or reply with any thoughts on these ideas or any headcanons of your own!!!

[fruitcoops]

hi eve! i was wondering if you would be interested in writing a coops shower fic, nothing smutty, just really soft and sensual and maybe comforting. i’m going through a tough time right now and your writing always cheers me up. thanks <3

Yes! This was combined with an ask for Coops' first day/ night living together--I hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for showering together (nothing smutty, just fluff)

They tumbled through the front door in a mess of laughter and rainwater—Remus’ soaked sneakers slipped on the floor and he skidded into Sirius, who was still blinded by the damp hair hanging in his eyes. “Shit!” Remus spluttered around his breathless grin as they struggled to keep their balance. “Baby, baby, grab the door—”

The front door slammed shut and steadied them just as another bolt of lightning cracked overhead; they stood in the entrance, panting and drenched, before Sirius’ chest began to shake beneath Remus’ cheek once more. “Mon dieu,” he snickered, leaning his head back against the heavy wood. “Which god did we piss off?”

“I’m taking this as a good sign.” Remus shivered as he shook his raincoat out on the welcome mat. “A fresh start, and all that symbolism.”

“Okay, college boy.”

He peeled one wet sock off and snapped it at Sirius’ hip, but the extra water weight made him miss by a mile and Sirius just shot him a teasing grin while he wriggled out of his tshirt. “I told you to bring a jacket,” Remus said wryly as his head got stuck. “But oh no, sweetheart, it’s totally not going to rain today. The weatherman is always wrong, it’s been sunny all week—”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled from the depths of wet fabric, waving one hand in his general direction. “You’re very smart.”

“Do you want first shower?”

Sirius’ cheeks were pink when he finally freed himself, both from his efforts and their mad five-block dash home. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Aren’t we showering together?”

Remus shrugged. “Hey, it’s your house.”

“Our house,” he corrected, taking the hem of Remus’ shirt and helping him pull it over his head.

A little flurry of joy ran through Remus’ gut at his words; goosebumps broke out over his freezing skin, and he could feel a dopey smile spread over his face. Ours. Most of his stuff had been living at Sirius’ for a couple days, but he had only brought the last of it over and dropped his key off with his landlord that morning. The last six hours had been filled with delirious happiness every time he remembered. “Then lead the way, captain.”

Sirius kissed his chilly nose and took him by the hand—both their palms were clammy and half-numb from the rain, and Remus didn’t care one bit. Stripping down was significantly more difficult when every article of clothing seemed dead-set on becoming a second skin, but after a handful of minor mishaps and more than one muffled curse, they were finally standing under warm water.

Remus closed his eyes with a sigh, letting the steam wrap around every inch of him. His apartment may have been comfortable, but it was severely lacking in water pressure and heat compared to Sirius’ house.

Our house.

He hummed to himself and stepped back until his shoulder blades were pressed to Sirius’ chest; there was a low laugh, then callused fingers running through his hair. “What are you thinking about?”

“Our house,” he answered, turning to stand on his toes and place a kiss to Sirius’ lips. It was chaste and unhurried; there was no time constraint on how long they could spend there. Remus didn’t have to worry about getting home too late, or whether he had brought enough stuff to stay the night. Everything he wanted was within reach.

Sirius smiled against his lips and draped his arms over Remus’ shoulders, tugging playfully on the wet curls at the base of his neck. “Good thoughts?”

“Always,” he said immediately. “This is…it’s so good, Sirius. So good. I am so happy.”

Their next kiss was deeper, but there was no real heat behind it, even as Remus curled his hands around the sharp peaks of Sirius’ hips. “I love you,” Sirius murmured when they pulled back for air. He bumped their noses together. “And I can’t wait to have you here all the time.”

“You don’t have to wait at all.”

His grin widened and he kissed Remus again. “I know.”

Remus nuzzled into the side of his neck and relaxed into the soapy slide of Sirius’ hand down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until the hot water started pouring over him, and sudden sleepiness trickled into the edges of his thoughts like rain through a gutter. The steam turned minty fresh as Sirius washed the expanse of his shoulders, then his neck, then all the way down each arm; he dropped a teasing pinch to Remus’ ass, but moved right back up to rub his thumb in the crook of one elbow.

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” he asked quietly against Remus’ temple.

“Mmm, please,” was all Remus could muster in response.

He had never really understood the hype about physical affection before he met Sirius. Sure, hugs from his parents and Jules were amazing, and fist bumps from the guys always made him feel included, but the gravitational pull Sirius had was like nothing he had ever felt. It was impossible to be uncomfortable if Remus was within five feet of him—impossible to feel unsafe when he fit so neatly in the dip of one shoulder.

“Love you,” he said around a slow exhale as Sirius began combing the conditioner through his hair. It was almost long enough to flop into his eyes, something that seemed to delight Sirius any time he saw it.

Warm lips brushed the shell of his ear for a moment. “You smell like la lavande.”

“Lavender?” Sirius hummed his approval and Remus raised his head just enough to kiss the water off his collarbone. “Do you like it?”

“Love it.” Sirius glanced down at him with a sideways smile, making one dimple pop. “Love you. Where did you get this?”

“Walgreens.”

That startled a laugh from him, which set Remus off as well. “Walgreens? Really?”

“I ran out one day at, like, midnight and it was the closest place. It smelled nice, so I just kept on buying it.”

Sirius shook his head with the same awed look on his face. “The secret to illegally soft hair is Walgreens conditioner. Amazing. My hair would riot.”

Remus frowned. “Your hair looks incredible even after you swim in salt water all day.”

“And then it tangles, and frizzes, and—” He paused. “Comment dit-on une colère? Like a toddler?”

“A tantrum?”

“Ouais.” Remus tilted his chin back obediently to let him wash the conditioner out. “It throws a tantrum. See, this is why I need you around all the time.”

“I have never seen your hair throw a tantrum before.” Sirius’ cheeks flushed and he bit his lip around a smile; Remus poked him lightly in the chest. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s an awfully big smile for nothing.”

His silver eyes shone as he placed yet another gentle kiss to Remus’ lips through the water running down both their faces. “You get to see it all the time now. No more going back to your apartment after we go places.”

“You’ll be subjected to my bedhead every morning,” Remus teased, resting their foreheads together as he reached for the soap.

“I love your bedhead.”

“I’m counting on it.” He took the bar of soap and ran it along the planes of Sirius’ chest, then around his back to trace every muscle. He could feel Sirius’ gaze on him with each movement and warmed from the inside out at the attention. Every bit of rainy cold that had snuck under his skin vanished in the minutes of comfortable quiet.

Thunder rolled through the sky when they finally turned the shower off and wrapped up in Sirius’ fluffiest towels—Remus’ own were significantly less fancy, but they remained in the linen closet on equal standing. It was silent things like that that made him love Sirius just a little bit more.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” he said as Sirius started pulling his sweatpants on.

“Hey!” Sirius protested when Remus took both the pants and his soft tshirt right out of his hands, winding the towel back around his waist with an awkward hop. “I’m going to get cold!”

“Five minutes!” Remus called over his shoulder as he hurried down the stairs with their clothes. “I promise it’s worth it!”

It would be a drizzly night; grand plans of takeout and a movie ran through his head and he did a small happy dance in the laundry room as he tossed their clothes in the dryer. His dryer. Their dryer. “Mine,” he murmured, running a hand over the top of the machine. It was a wild thought, and one he would have to get used to. He still instinctively checked the clock from time to time before remembering that he would be staying for—

Forever.

The thought came before Remus could really process it and he leaned against the dryer with an unsteady breath. It was only his first real day in the house, and already he was thinking about…that. About staying forever. It wasn’t as scary as he had imagined.

“Mon loup?” Sirius peeked around the doorjamb in confusion, still fiddling with the tucked side of his towel. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a trick that I learned from my mom,” Remus said rather than getting into the specific train of thought that probably left him looking like he had been whacked with a frying pan. “Do you want to do takeout for dinner?”

“I…kind of wanted to get dressed.”

Remus patted his hip as he passed. “Five minutes, baby. Where should we eat?”

“You pick.”

--

Forty minutes later, Remus found himself tucked under the blanket his mother had given him when he went away for college with his boyfriend and a box of takeout Thai food. Their clothes were still warm from the dryer—he would never forget the pure bliss on Sirius’ face when he got dressed and was instantly cocooned in heat—and Sirius’ hair was still half-damp from their shower, curling in little wings over his ears. It felt like worlds colliding. Somehow, Remus was just fine with that.

“Hey,” he said quietly as the exposition continued on screen. Sirius glanced over with his fork halfway to his mouth. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looked around the living room—their living room—that had seemed so empty the first time he saw it. They could put pictures on the wall by the back door, and one box of his books still laid unopened by the shelves. He could bring out his grandmother’s quilt in the winter. A month from then, two months, ten months. “I’m happy here.”

Sirius’ breath caught for a moment before a hoodie-clad arm slid between Remus’ back and the couch and guided him over to rest his head on Sirius’ chest. His lips were slightly spicy from the curry when he kissed him. “I’m happy when you’re here,” Sirius said, hardly above a whisper. “I miss you when you’re not.”

Remus breathed in the smell of his—their—laundry detergent and felt his heart give a hard thump. “You don’t have to miss me anymore.”

“C’mere.” There was a shuffle as Sirius set both their food boxes on the coffee table and paused the movie, then shifted around so Remus was laying on his chest. He pulled the blanket all the way up to their shoulders and slipped one warm hand up Remus’ shirt to rest on the small of his back; his eyes were bright in the semi-darkness. “Stay with me.”

Remus didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Demon Brothers panic-buy MC a last-minute birthday present

Prompt: You drop the fact that your birthday is in a few days, much to the demon brothers’ surprise. They don’t have a gift for you prepared-- panic ensues.

Note: gender neutral; :) i just like seeing them get flustered

--

Lucifer

“Ah, your birthday? Of course I knew. You thought I didn’t?”

He didn’t know-- not until you told him just then a mere DAYS before your birthday

Internally panicking but he will NOT have you know that he missed this rather important detail

Casually asks you in the next few days if you’re free to go out with him because “he wants to spend more time with you--” which he DOES but he has ulterior motives such as hoping you’d point out something you like when you go out so he can gift it to you

Will watch your movement and gestures like a hawk trying to gauge what sort of present you would want from him

Money isn’t really a concern of him; he just wants to make sure that his gift is something you actually want and is thoughtful enough

If he’s unlucky and you are in fact NOT free in the few days leading up to your birthday, he paces a lot in his room, trying to remember if there was something you mentioned from a past conversation because he has too much pride asking you what you would want for your birthday

...but eventually caves in and asks his other brothers (probably Asmo or Beel) what they think you would like because his love for you >>> his pride

He has seared your birthdate into his mind now because he’d rather not have a repeat of whatever happened this year

--

Mammon

“Your birthday? Hahaha of COURSE I knew your birthday was in a few days… IN A FEW DAYS--?!”

He blurts this out but you tell him it’s fine but he won’t have it

He’ll try to cover it up, pretending he knew, but he sucks at lying and the fact he suspiciously walks out of your room to find a quick job listing to get enough money for a present is telling enough

First ideas most likely include rummaging in his room for anything valuable or shiny that you could possibly want

Considers giving you his car for a second in his panic but realizes you’d probably freak out at the extremely extravagant present

Will definitely try to snoop in his brothers’ rooms in search of things and collectively tells them (and makes them panic) about your birthday as well

Eventually sucks it up and works at Hell’s Kitchen, literally diving underneath counters and tables to avoid having you see him working

Terrible at making excuses to you about where he is so you probably know he’s working, and he feels bad that he has to avoid hanging out with you-- but he loves you and this is for you, after all, so he bears it

Buys you something he finds value in and thinks would like nice if you wore it; after all, the Avatar of Greed wants the best he can afford for you

--

Leviathan

You tell him your birthday is coming up soon while he’s playing something and the only thing he says first is “oh nice”

Then he realizes

“YOUR BIRTHDAY IS WHEN??”

He died on the screen, which you point out, but his eyes are wide and a little pleading

Asks you directly what you want for your birthday and he will literally search it up for you on Akuzon right there and then (it’s wild seeing online shopping on several screens)

“How about this one? Wait, no-- that’s terrible quality and the reviews are horrible; let’s check out this one.”

Makes you tell him everything you could have possibly wanted in the past few months so he can compile a list of things he can search up and select from

If he’s manic for the next few days, know that he hasn’t been gaming (has not since you dropped this very important detail) but has been vigorously searching up all the online shopping sites he can find to get the things you wanted down to its detail and quality

Definitely enlists his online friends for recommendations, but regardless will buy you matching gaming headset on top of whatever you wanted because he wants you to know you’re his Player 2, even if you don’t game

All the presents come on the same day (Mammon grumbles that it’s blocking the walkway) and he shoos you away as he carts everything up to his room to wrap it

Wishes he had more time to make you a present instead of buying something but hey there’s always next year

--

Satan

“O-Oh. Your birthday is in a few days, huh?”

Satan stares at you for a few moments too long as if he wants to say something but decides against it and gives you a benign conversation starter like “You must be excited for another year done”

Inwardly, he’s trying to calculate in his head when he has time to research for things you want, if going on a cat cafe date is too indulgent to be a gift to you, if he should just ask you what you want for a present-- all while holding a conversation with you

Not a great conversation, mind you-- you can tell he’s a little preoccupied, but you’re more worried about how his sentences trail than anything

Pops up randomly in the next few days in your room just to chat, looks around your room, and then leaves again (like a cat)

He’s trying to find a present that you’d want to use-- something practical-- but also something you’d also enjoy having (he’s setting up high standards, but he wants his gift to be good enough for you)

Low-key stressing a lot over this that he’s a little distracted at all times

Ends up combining all his gift ideas by setting up a date for you to spend some quality time with him AND buy your gift when the two of you are together AND has a gift ready for you just in case nothing catches your fancy on your date (he is anything if not prepared for all scenarios)

The gift he gets you is something he’d think you’d enjoy or reminded him of you (and hopes for the best)

--

Asmodeus

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?”

Asmo is almost offended that you didn’t tell him about your birthday-- how is he supposed to set up a extravagant birth week celebration if your birthday is in a few days?

But no matter-- he’s not that discouraged and is determined to rock your socks off with a present anyways, even though he would have definitely had your birthday celebration as a tag for the entire month if he had the time (now it’s only a week-long trending tag, but he’ll make do)

Will definitely coyly offer up himself as a present (and if you say yes, he will be at your mercy) but thinks he has more creativity that than to make you special day great

Takes you on a shopping spree where he dresses you up in the fanciest of clothes and things that you have always adored and refuses to let up until you let him buy you a gift

On the day of your birthday, he offers up his room as an entire spa day-- pedicure, manicure, whatever-cure you would ever want! Massage, face mask, bubble bath-- if there’s anything that can let him show how much he appreciates you, then tell him! He is at your mercy today!

Takes you out on a spin in town, buying you drinks and dancing with you at clubs if that’s what you want; but the night is yours, hun!

Beelzebub

You tell him when he’s eating something and his face morphs from surprised, delight, to sadness

“I… didn’t get you a present yet…”

You reassure him that it’s completely okay, but you know your words aren’t working because he still has that forlorn expression that reminds you of a kicked puppy

Asks you directly what you would want and if you tell him he’d be more than happy to get whatever it is you requested, even if it’s a physical gift or if you want to spend the entire day with him

It is your birthday and he already feels bad for not being able to really prepare for it properly, so he’ll do anything he can to make you happy

If you don’t tell him what you want, you better be strong enough to resist looking into his eyes to not cave into just telling what you want

Eventually settles on giving you something thoughtful and quickly hand-made-- like a set of coupons that say things such as ‘I will do your chores for a week’ or ‘I will make you dinner’

The coupon book has a lot of food-related things than anything, but you know his love language is basically food-- he loves you lots, okay?

Other than that, he’s super indulgent to you on your birthday. You want a lift? No problem. You want him to carry you bridal style to school? Sure, he can’t see why not!

--

Belphegor

“Wait, seriously? You waited until NOW to let me know?”

Kind of annoyed about the fact you dropped this detail on him now and decides to immediately punish you by trapping you in his embrace in a forced snuggle even while you laugh (so honestly, you have no regrets)

Tells you he’s not getting you a present

He’s getting you a present though, regardless of what he says, but now he has the element of surprise on his side (assuming you believe that he’s not getting you something)

Hangs out with you per usual in the next few days, paying more attention to what you would want in a present and asking low-key questions about possible gift ideas-- he’s real sneaky about it, so you honestly won’t pick up on it at all

Goes out of his way to help you study and help you out because it is your birthday, after all, and he’s pretending like he didn’t get you a present

Probably casually drops off a gift at your desk on your birthday, and if you’re surprised, he’s a little smug-- but if you’re not, he’ll be a little embarrassed but will tell you to just ‘open the present already’

Gift is most likely to be something that he’s noticed that you have continually needed but never had the thought or time to get-- just to make your life a little easier

Tells you to go nap with him as compensation for the work he’s done trying to think up of a gift for you

[noteguk]

a little while | kth | m

↳ inspired by the song “a little while” by yellow days. 

— summary; in which Taehyung realizes that he was wrong in thinking that being friends with benefits with you wouldn’t backfire. 

— contents and warnings; angsty smut!!, pretty much pwp, taehyung is emotional, fwb au, Taehyung x reader, protected sex, dirty talk (honestly like one sentence), unrequited feelings, kind of soft sex :( taehyung is whipped and sad about it 

— words; 2k

— author’s note; I’ve been feeling kind of stuck with my other wips so I wrote this drabble to unwind :) idk if I plan to write more of it but who knows!!! My two functioning neurons are very unpredictable. 

That was supposed to be easy. 

That was all that Taehyung could think about: you two, whatever you had going on; that was supposed to be easy. It was the whole point of even starting something like that in the first place. It was the entire motive behind why anyone would ever accept a friend with benefits — no strings attached, no clingy calls, no emotional baggage. It was supposed to be a quick situation, convenient; Taehyung was supposed to see you every once in a while, maybe even forget about you, until he decided that he wanted to get his dick wet again. 

It was supposed to be easy. 

“Is this okay for you?” Taehyung asked, leaning a bit closer to your face. He loved staring at you like that: with your hair sprawled on the pillow and your pouty lips inviting him into a kiss. He had grown used to having you under him, and it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes. “Want me to go faster?” 

You shifted around under him, your hands moving up to rest on his shoulders. “It’s alright, I like it slow too.” 

And he could only nod, because his mind was thinking too many things that he could not say. It was supposed to be fucking easy, but somewhere along the way, Taehyung had ruined everything. It was just a matter of time before the whole situation went up in flames and he managed to lose both his friend and what might just be the love of his life in one go. 

Because Taehyung had broken the first and most important rule of having a friend with benefits: whatever you do, don’t catch feelings. 

And now he was rocking into you slowly, sensually, actually making love to you instead of the way he usually fucked — fast, rough, with your loud moans filling his lungs until he found his high. It was ridiculous. He felt nauseous. 

Worst part was that he was almost sure you didn’t feel the same — and the “almost” was because there was a small fragment of hope inside his chest that really tried to convince him that he had a shot. That maybe the way you looked at him showed something beyond hunger and lust. Maybe you actually cared for him. Maybe you wanted more and you weren’t brave enough to tell him. 

“Actually, could you go a bit faster?” 

Your voice shot him straight back down into reality. Taehyung only nodded, mumbling something that not even he understood before burying his face on the crook of your neck and raising the speed of his thrusts. The world around him felt suffocating and confusing, not even your honeyed moans against his ear could raise his spirit. 

Still he tried to ground himself, his hands digging to your hips as he closed his eyes, focusing on the drag of your walls against his cock. The feeling was overwhelming, dizzying, earned a low groan from him as he continued to fuck you like you deserved to be fucked. Taehyung managed to pretend that everything was alright for exactly two minutes before you spoke up again. 

“God, that feels so good,” you cried out. His cock throbbed inside you at your words, his mind spinning at the sensation of you growing tighter. Taehyung was obsessed with you in every way, completely enthralled by how your body reacted to his, so eager to feel more. “Want you to kiss me, Tae.” 

You always asked that when you were getting close and Taehyung was always fast to do it. His lips were on yours before he could even think about it, his tongue crawling inside your mouth as he groaned against the kiss. God, he could make out with you forever, it wasn’t even a joke. 

Taehyung was absolutely whipped and that was a problem. 

He removed one hand from your hips and trailed it down your arm slowly, reaching your hand and intertwining his fingers in yours. He moaned against your mouth, feeling his orgasm building up on the base of his spine, and pressed your hand down on the mattress as he continued to bury himself inside you. 

“Tae,” you sobbed his name so beautifully that he swore he could cum right at that instant. “I’m so close.” 

“It’s okay, baby, you can let it go,” he said, his voice so deep that you felt it vibrating inside your chest. “I got you. Cum on my cock for me. Wanna feel you.”

And you did, because it was like the universe was mocking him about how perfect you could be. Taehyung groaned — both in pleasure and in frustration — as your pussy clenched around his aching cock, your thighs trembling on either side of his body while you cried out his name. It was a flawless melody composed just for him: your voice dancing in the air, the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust in and out of you. 

Taehyung, just to top it all off, committed the huge mistake of actually making eye contact with you as you came down from your high. It suddenly was too much: your hooded eyes, your parted lips, the blissful expression that covered your features. You were too much. 

“Fuck, baby,” Taehyung cursed. He closed his eyes, paying full attention to his growing pleasure. “You’re so beautiful.” 

He didn’t really mean to confess that out loud, but you didn’t seem to mind. You smiled, that gorgeous, drowsy smile you always gave him after he had made you cum, and Taehyung swore he was in heaven. “Are you gonna cum?” You asked, earning an eager nod in return. His hair was a mess over his eyes, sweaty and disorganized, covering his gaze as he looked down to see where the two of you met. You were made for him, your pussy was made for him, and he couldn’t take that idea out of his mind. “It’s okay, Tae, you can cum.” 

Again, the universe was mocking him, because within a few seconds he was doing just that. Taehyung pressed his forehead against your shoulder and spilled himself inside the condom, wishing profusely — pretending, almost — that the latex barrier wasn’t there, and that he was filling you up with his cum instead, making you his. And that was enough to prolong his high a little further, his cock throbbing as he dove into that fantasy. 

But, eventually, it had to end. 

The silence that followed was thick and overbearing, but comfortable regardless. Most of the time it went like that: with the two of you basking in the afterglow of your orgasms, drowning in the heat of one another without saying a word. Taehyung did not know what went on inside your head, but he knew that he needed those few seconds of silence to reset his thoughts, to try and bury the emotions that ever so gradually started to build up. 

Basically, he had to take a moment to remind himself that he had absolutely no chance with you. 

You sighed deeply, your fingers diving into Taehyung’s soft locks. He had collapsed against your chest, trying to regain his breath and, at the gentle caresses of your fingers, you felt his heart leap inside his chest, pounding against your skin. 

“That was nice,” you said daintily. He only hummed in agreement, worried he would slip and say something he didn’t mean to. “I have to go, though.” 

Just like that, Taehyung felt like he just got stabbed in the fucking jugular. He whipped his head away from your chest faster than he could think (after all, he should’ve enjoyed a few extra seconds of boob time if he had the chance) and his mouth fell open for a moment before his words finally came out. “Don’t— Don’t you wanna stay the night?” 

If you thought that his plea was desperate, which it was, you didn’t let it show. You smiled, leaning back to you could shift into a seating position on the bed. The two of you were facing each other then, so close and yet miles apart. “I don’t think I have the energy for round three,” you answered playfully. 

Taehyung had two conflicting answers fighting in his head. The first one was that it wasn’t for sex, something along the lines of “actually, I might be in love with you and I don’t want you to go”; the second one was the one that you wanted to hear: “it’s okay, I’ll do all the work anyways”. And, yet, as the brave battle continued inside his mind, he was left to stare in silence as you jumped out of the bed and started seeking for your clothes.

“Besides,” you continued, “I have that research presentation tomorrow.” 

Oh yeah, that stupid research thing. The reason why you had to schedule that Emergency Unwinding Session with Taehyung in the first place. His initial bliss, but his final demise. How poetic. 

“It’s fine, I get it.” Taehyung watched your little wiggling dance as you placed your pants back on. He would’ve teased you about it if his heart wasn’t in absolute shambles. “Can I see you later tomorrow, then?” 

You didn’t even hesitate to twist the blade. “Won’t happen. It’s Yongsun’s birthday and we are going to this fancy sushi bar downtown,” you said. The universe truly hated Taehyung and you were completely dressed by the time you leaned in to place a kiss against his forehead. “But we’ll figure something out. I owe you a third round.” 

Taehyung forced out a laugh, trying to brush away the storm cloud over his head. However, he couldn’t even convince himself that he was fine. “Sure. We can figure it out.” 

You hummed and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to make it a bit more presentable. “I have the copy of the keys that Jimin gave me, so you don’t have to worry about locking the door. Just go to sleep and I’ll lock it on my way out.” 

Taehyung simply nodded because he seriously didn’t think he could say anything without completely confessing his emotions. They were so bottled up that he felt them building up in his throat, like a shaken bottle of soda about to explode. 

“See you, Tae. Thanks for tonight,” you said on your way out of his room. 

He responded with a timid, “See you,” that he was a hundred percent sure you didn’t even hear. A few seconds later, the sound of his front door closing was like thunder echoing around his empty room. 

Taehyung sighed and threw himself back against the mattress, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand. He was so fucked. So fucking whipped. He just wanted to scream against his pillow until it all went away, but he knew that it wouldn’t. He couldn’t confess to you because he was sure that you didn’t feel the same, and he couldn’t let you go because he was selfish: he wanted you one way or another, even if he had to disguise his emotions and pretend that everything was fine. 

He removed his hand from his face and stared up at the white ceiling, at the slices of moonlight that came from his open window. Taehyung decided that he would just continue faking that he was fine with the idea of being friends with benefits with you. But could he do it? Could he keep it up? For how long? Taehyung had endured those acting sessions for a bit too long then, and he didn’t know how much he could take before he reached his breaking point. 

He groaned and rolled around on the bed. He just wanted to sleep. 

That was supposed to be easy.

[bktaro]

seven-three (part 2)

pairing: nanami x f!reader

themes/rating: explicit, 18+, clubs, bars, masquerade parties

tw: drinking, sex clubs, rough sex, daddy kink, slight bondage, dom/sub, slight degradation, size kink, face fucking, dacryphilia, squirting, fingering, oral

wc: 6.5k

ao3 | part 1 | part 2​ | part 3

tagging: @angelofthorr​ @lilalalila​

Nanami Kento had a hardened shell surrounding his personal life. Clocking out at five ‘o’clock on the dot every day, he left little to no room for others to get to know him better— leaving him as an unsolvable mystery amongst the office.

Likewise, you too aimed to clock out at five ‘o’ clock. You preferred routine during the workday, finding comfort in maintaining equilibrium and peace and wanting to do nothing more or nothing less than what was required of you.

Little did you know the two of you shared an interesting weekend hobby.

Nanami always did consider himself to be a man that wasted no time, and tonight was no exception.

Time was of the essence. Nanami wanted to waste not a single minute further on idle things that could be used in exploring your body and making you feel pleasure like never before.

“You’re right, I think we are a good match— we understand each other well. I completely agree with what you said earlier, I also hate wasting time.” Nanami’s hand reaches upwards to caress the side of your cheek, tilting your head up to look into your eyes. “So, that’s why I’m just going to say exactly what I’m thinking to you.”

Nanami’s other hand slides down your bare arm, until it lays on top of one of your smaller hands scrunching up the hem of his shirt. He motions you to release your grip from his shirt, and when you oblige, he takes the opportunity to grab your smaller hand within his larger one, lacing your fingers in between his own. His figure is quite taller than yours, prompting him to bend his body over to whisper into your ear.

“Let’s get out of here already so I can fuck you stupid.”

You grin at the request, a low throb jolting in between your legs at his words. He had cut right to the chase— and you loved that.

“What are we waiting for then?” You give a hard squeeze to his hand intertwined with yours, alongside the corners of your lips tugging further upwards into a larger, cheekier grin. “Let’s go.”

—

Within what felt to be mere minutes, with his hand in yours Nanami had placed a wad of cash at the concierge desk connecting the club to its sister company of hotel rooms with the request for the finest room they had to offer. The staff didn’t ask further questions, already in understanding of the nature of most of its clients. Much like the club, from the outside the hotel seemed to be a standard, elegant establishment— but in reality it served to act in partnership with the club as a ‘love hotel’ of sorts instead.

“The penthouse suite?” You ask, watching him slip the key card into the pocket of his tan blazer. “A fancy guy, aren’t you?”

Nanami lets out a low chuckle, leading you inside the elevator that was now open in front of the two of you. He steps in first, pressing the button to the desired floor, but you’re just behind his tail, following him inside instantly and standing beside him.

He’s frankly a bit astonished to find the elevator is empty, fully expecting another couple to already be partially within each other’s pants when the steel doors part open in the middle. But a new thought arises in his head— he thinks perhaps the two of you could be that couple. Elevator public sex was on his bucket list, after all.

“I like a good view, and I’ll get the best money can buy me.” Nanami replies instead, shaking the thought out of his head. He had to at least have some self-control… for now. And it wasn’t completely a lie either, he did like all things beautiful, especially the simple, natural things in life like a beautiful view with an equally beautiful woman on his arm. “The sunrise is beautiful from this high up, you’ll see later.”

A moment of foreign silence envelopes the air in between the two of you, the only sounds being the dinging noise signaling the closure of the doors soon, and the faint mechanics of the elevator whirring in the background. Although brief, the silence churns your thoughts, making you realize it’s the first time you've probably ever been alone with Nanami. At the office, your department was one of the largest in the company. Being alone with anyone was slim to none— especially Nanami who typically went out of his way to avoid pointless interaction with others.

So, you start to think you’re one lucky girl. Maybe you’ve saved a nation in your past life, something remarkable of that nature to be in the position you’re in now.

Nanami doesn’t give you much more time to get lost in your thoughts, however.

The instant the steel doors of the elevator shut close once again, you gasp at the sudden force of movement. Nanami leans his back against the wall of the elevator and pulls your hand to drag you in front of him, making you stumble in between his legs. His hands find themselves on the small of your back, supporting your balance, and all you can do is look up at the mischievous smirk that has formed on his lips.

“Maybe I also want to show you off to the entire city below too. Fuck you right up against the window so everyone can see.”

Your cheeks begin to feel warm, feeling a sudden tinge of embarrassment strike at your chest. You give out a silent prayer in thanks to the mask that conceals your now blushing face, swallowing the lump in your throat and mustering up the courage to respond in the most confident way you can.

“Oh, so you’re not fancy at all— just plain old nasty .”

Nanami lets out another laugh, this time louder than the previous. God , the sound of laughter is like a sweet melody, just as gorgeous as his smile. Maybe you really did save a nation in your past life to be able to be alive in this very moment.

“Ouch, that one hurts. Aren’t ‘fairies’ like you supposed to be nice?”

You laugh alongside him, both your hands trailing up to rest flat on his chest. Standing up on the tips of your toes, your face comes inches away from his and your eyes trail to look at his lips in front of yours.

“Aw, did I hurt you, handsome?” You give me a quick wink, a hand grabbing his silk tie to pull him forward towards you. “Don’t worry, I can kiss it better.”

Nanami follows your lead, tilting his head and leaning forward to catch your lips on his. Contrary to your conversations filled with urgency and lust, the kiss is gentle, a soft greeting to each other's bodies for the first time. His lips are plush against yours, a little bit of tongue slipping in when his tongue swipes yours and grants access but still remaining tender, molding effortlessly in sync together. All you can do is close your eyes, completely indulging in the moment at hand.

You pull away moments later, much to your dismay in the need for air. When your eyes reopen, you catch the curve of Nanami’s lips hitched upwards in front of you into a satisfied grin, resulting in another giggle surpassing your lips.

“What? Fairy magic got you feeling better already?”

“Absolutely. You’re quite a phenomenal kisser.” Nanami’s grip on the small of your back dives lower, his hands now gripping the curve of your ass in an effort to pull your body even closer to his. “I think I’m addicted already— give me some more, will you?”

He doesn’t need to ask you twice.

Your hands move to wrap around behind his neck, closing the gap between your bodies. With your body in between his legs now completely latched on to his, your hands tangle the back of his head, bringing him down for another kiss.

The kiss this time around is desperate, needy, and in the search for more. Lips now acquainted, they waste no time in smashing against each other, tongues likewise dancing to explore one another deeper. Clothes began to feel constricting, and the seconds felt excruciatingly long during the remainder of the trip up the elevator to the top floor, hands exploring every inch of the skin available to both of your reaches.

You’re frankly not too sure how exactly Nanami managed to do so, but he successfully guided you into the correct suite without his hands and lips ever tearing away from yours. They only leave you momentarily to unzip the thin fabric of your dress off and on to the floor, tossing your now nearly exposed body onto the king-sized bed and pinning you underneath his larger frame.

Just from the way his hands worked, gripping and grabbing onto every inch of your skin he could, you could tell he’s already insanely rough in bed— and a tiny smile creeps up on your face at the pleasing thought.

Nanami Kento is truly nothing like the reserved, timid and calm man from the office you thought you knew.

“You’re a real freak, aren’t you?”

Nanami leans his face lower, lips hovering over yours. A proud, cocky smirk forms upon his lips at your words, the canines of his teeth peeking through.

“Maybe I am.” His voice is low, dripping with lust at the sight of your partially naked body, now merely inches away from your lips. “But something tells me you’re not that much different from me.”

You let out a chuckle, reciprocating the smirk on his lips afterwards with your own while your fingers begin fumbling to undo the buttons of his blue dress shirt.

“Maybe I am too.” You mimic his words, pausing your efforts to undo the buttons momentarily to grab onto his patterned gold tie again, pulling him even closer. “Maybe I’m just as freaky as you — so give me everything you got.”

Before Nanami even gets the opportunity to respond back, you bring his lips onto yours. The kiss is passionate, his lips swollen and plush from the earlier make out session, tongues now more than familiar with each other, yet still desperate for more.

“ Everything ? Are you sure?” Nanami asks, pulling away momentarily. He had to ask you now where the boundaries lay, immensely cautious of your limits and not to cross them. “I’ll stop anytime if you ask, the last thing I want to do is anything that might make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure, as long as it’s nothing entirely soul crushingly degrading and humiliating.” A small, reassuring smile curves on your lips. “Seriously though, I’ve never been surer about anything. And I’m on birth control too.”

Nanami smiles half-hardy back at you, and you can sense the hesitation still lingering behind. He liked his sex rough, and he just wasn’t too sure if you did too yet. Plus, he knew how sleazy certain people could be in these environments— he wanted to make it a hundred percent clear that you weren’t obliged to anything and had the power to opt out at any time.

You were genuinely appreciative of his concern for you, noting that he was truly a kind man at heart— another thing you wouldn’t have known about him from just his presence in the office. But you sincerely did just want the man in front of you to fuck you senseless and use your body in whatever way he wanted too. You had to take it up a notch for him to sincerely ease his apprehension— and you had the perfect idea.

“Look, I’ll let you know immediately if I feel uncomfortable, okay? So don’t worry about going too far for anything.” You bring a hand up to his jawline, gently stroking the soft skin in encouragement. “But what I really want is to help you grant your wish— daddy .”

Nanami’s eyes widens, a newfound flame burning up fueled by lust flowing across his body and a small, genuine grin now forming at your response.

All it took was one, single word to shake off his hesitations, replacing them with a newly awakened beast. Unknowingly, you’ve unlocked a new side of Nanami Kento he himself rarely finds activated.

Sure, he’d been with many women during his weekend rendezvous, but he’s beginning to find truth in Gojo’s words— there was no one quite like you who had the right talk and walk, flicking on a switch in his brain that made him a man that wanted nothing more in his life than to fuck the shit out of you.

“You’re saying then you can take anything daddy gives you then, right?”

His thumb grazes over your bottom lip, and in response you open your mouth just a bit wider, wrapping your lips around his thumb.

You were more than prepared to take on this new challenger— Nanami Kento had met his match.

“Use me however you want— I’m your little slut.”

Nanami sucks his teeth at your words, the other free hand now working to loosen the tie around his neck. The bud of his thumb presses harder down the pad of your tongue, and your lips wrap tighter around it, holding onto his hand with yours and looking right at his eyes visible through the eyeholes of his mask.

“You want to be my little fuckdoll tonight, don’t you?”

Unable to speak with his thumb in your mouth, you nod your head, looking up at him and grinning the best you could. Nanami smiles again, satisfied with your response.

“You’re going to be my little slutty fuckdoll...”

The long silky gold and speckled black fabric of Nanami’s tie soon finds its way around his hand. Releasing his thumb from your mouth, you let out a gasp with wide eyes as Nanami grabs a hold of your wrists, bringing them up to the headboard above you and tying them together with his tie.

You were now completely under his discretion, your body laid out in submission, truly like a doll only for him to use however he liked— and the thought is enough to initiate another familiar throb in between your legs.

“... and you’ll do just as daddy says.”

A small shiver travels down your spine, feeling Nanami leaning forward and trailing soft kisses from the side of your jawline and down your neck, taking his time to lick and suck the sensitive areas of your skin.

He pauses when he meets the cleavage of your breasts peeking out from your bra, hands gently guiding you to arch your back off the bed. Lean fingers skillfully undo the clasp on your back, sending the strapless piece of fabric to join your other discarded garments on the floor and leaving his mouth watering at the sight of your naked, perky nipples in full view.

“My gorgeous fucking doll.”

Large hands cup and roughly squeeze the mounds of flesh, resulting in a soft, breathy whimper to leave your mouth. His tongue works on one perked nipple, licking the sensitive bud while he pulls and pinches the other with his thumb and index fingers, repeating the process again and again until you’re left squirming under his touch.

Nanami finishes giving attention to both your breasts, proudly eyeing the trails of small bruises peppered over your chest afterwards. The tip of his index finger gently begins to dance upon your skin, beginning in between your breasts at the center of your body. He traces the small love marks, loving the way you shiver and let out a small whine at even the slightest touch and slowly slithers all the way down only pausing when they reach the wetness of your cunt, concealed past your damp underwear.

“Won’t you look at that.” Nanami smirks, pressing his fingers against your underwear. “Someone’s drenched already, aren’t they?”

Your body flinches when his fingers dig deeper in between your folds, a muffled moan escaping past your lips at the slight roughness of the fabric digging into your cunt.

“Tell me, doll, who made your pussy this soaked already?”

Nanami brings his face to hover over yours again and tilts your chin upwards to look you in the eye, awaiting your response.

“ You , daddy.”

The proud grin on his face widens, a thumb joining his index finger to slowly rub your clothed clit in small, teasing circles. Your breath hitches at the new sensation on your most sensitive bud, arching your back off the bed once again and letting out an airy moan just slightly louder than the previous.

“You’re really such a good girl, listening to me so well.” He coos and leans forward, leaving you a tender, yet teasing kiss that leaves you wanting more against your lips. “Makes me want to just eat you right up.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Nanami arches his eyebrows behind his mask, slightly taken aback but simultaneously impressed with your reply. A stifling chuckle soon breaks past his lips, bringing his hand up and squishing your chin in between his fingers, causing your mouth to partially open, tongue sticking out.

“You’re right. Good, slutty girls like you deserve a reward, don’t they?”

His hand moves again, this time finding its way past the band of your underwear and inside the fabric instead. Two fingers slowly stroke past your bare clit, and then in between your wet folds, touching just enough to give you some sort of relief, but not enough penetration to fully relieve you. It leaves you whimpering, loving the touches you’re getting, but wanting even the slightest bit more .

“Tell me another thing, doll.” The finger covered with your slick leaves your underwear, Nanami bringing it up for both you and him to examine in between your faces. He spreads his two fingers apart, and the both of you watch the glistening slick stretch between the two fingers. “How do you taste when you’re all wet because of me?”

Nanami’s two fingers press down on your tongue again, and you close your mouth, embracing the digits with your tongue. Your tongue laps around his fingers, eyes looking right into his as your tastebuds savour the flavour of your own juices. Your tongue hangs out when you open your mouth again, freeing his fingers from your tongue after you suck all the slick clean off of them.

“It tastes so delicious...”  

“My pretty girl likes her own flavour, hm?” Nanami’s grip on either side of your cheeks gets the slightest bit firmer. “Let me get a taste for myself.”

He leans forward, giving you a single, slow lick against your tongue with his, another whimper vibrating in your throat at your now pulsating core. When he pulls away afterwards, a low chuckle can’t help but leave his mouth, looking at your needy expression in desire for more than what his mere teasing leaves you with.

“Hm, I’m definitely going to need a better taste than that, don’t you think?”

Nanami doesn’t wait for your response, already beginning to leave a trail of kisses down your body. You slowly pry your legs open for him when he reaches your pelvis, allowing him to shift his body to lay flat on the bed in between your thighs. A tender kiss is left on one side of your inner thigh, ushering you to prop your legs upwards so he can get a better view, and you can’t help but let out another shudder at his lips ghosting closer to your most sensitive area.

His hand trails upward towards the band of your underwear, fingers latching onto the sides of lacy garment resting on your hips. With the tug of his fingers, the fabric peels off of your body, a glossy string of slick trailing from your wet cunt to the center of your underwear now stained with a patch of wetness. Nanami assists you eagerly in pulling the garment all the way down your legs, until he’s able to grab them in his hands and toss them somewhere in the floor of the hotel room to join your previously discarded clothing.

It’s a sight that makes his mouth water and cock stiffen inside his pants even more, suddenly starving in the pit of his stomach to get even the tiniest taste. It’s a sight he’s again, seen numerous times before in his weekend rendezvous, but the first to get him riled up the way he was before he even truly began to explore your body.

Your legs are spread and propped open, drenched pussy glistening with slick dangerously close to staining the sheets below, and arms still bound by his tie tied around the headboard of the bed. Your breaths come in shallow pants, heavy in anticipation of whatever is to come next, your body squirming desperately searching for even that tiny moment of relief. And in the middle of it all, watching your every movement is Nanami in between your legs— a smirk plastered on his face and a glowing twinkle in his eye.

You were a feast laid out just for him, a beast wanting nothing more than to devour his prey.

And so, he decides to do just that.

“Daddy’s going to make you feel so good baby, your pussy will be wet just like this all week thinking about me.”

Nanami leans forward, spreading your cunt with his fingers and taking the first, agonizing slow lick up your dripping slit, collecting the juices threatening to spill on to his tongue. You let out a whine, head instantly thrown back at alleviating sensation.

“Fuck…”

Your pleased curse comes out in a mutter, but it’s more than enough to fuel Nanami. He traces his tongue back and forth on your slit, occasionally sticking his tongue in and out of your cunt, and increasingly picking up his pace every time he hears you whimper in delight and your body gradually wriggling more and more. The sound is music to his ears— a melody of sorts he’s more than determined to play all night.

When the tip of his tongue deliberately finds its way to brush on your clit, your body jolts, and another, breathy moan fills the air. Nanami instantly holds you down, wrapping an arm around your thighs, restraining your movements to jump away from him, and allowing him to continue to attack on your most sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh…my god… please…” You whine, your tied up hands searching for something to desperately grasp on to but finding nothing. “...please don’t stop… ”

It’s all you can groan out, Nanami showing no mercy in sucking on the swollen bud, flicking his tongue rapidly against it like it’s all he knew how to do. His tongue is incredibly skilled, and Nanami knows it too— simply by the way your body was thrashing already under him, a sign he knew too well of what was to come next.

He wonders how much farther you can go, what kind of reaction he can get from your body if just plays around with you just a bit further. Curiosity controls his movements, a long, lone finger on his free hand coming up and teasingly stroking your wet cunt, before inserting itself effortlessly in.

And you like it— so much so you feel yourself dripping even more , without a doubt now staining the bed sheets below when his finger curls and picks up the pace, fucking your cunt alongside his tongue working on your clit. But both Nanami and you know one isn’t enough, despite the fact he can hear your whimpers grow louder and can practically feel your cunt clenching, throbbing on his one sole finger, he knows he needs to stretch you out even further to fully prepare you for the main course— his dick in his pants that was now harder than ever.

You were close, so close already, hips thrusting to fuck his finger and face the best you could being under his grasp. When Nanami adds a second finger to join the first, fingering your pussy relentlessly, your eyes shut close, the pit of your stomach tightening and your body beginning to convulse from the intensity of it all.

“Oh my god… I… I’m going to—”

With one last final cry, your back arches the best it can under Nanami’s strength, holding your thighs down while your first orgasm of the night rips out, liquid squirting all over him.

Nanami lets you ride your orgasm out on his fingers and tongue, leaving slower, gentle licks and flicks on your clit and cunt. When your thrusting stops, he pulls away, a grin forming on his face now wet from your squirting, looking at the scene of liquid splattered on the bed sheets, the skin of your stomach and thighs, and your puffed, swollen clit.

You’re left panting, body now completely relaxed on top of the bed in an attempt to recollect yourself. You’re truthfully a bit in a state of shock, not only from how mind blowing it was to be eaten out by the Nanami Kento, but how fast it all happened. You weren’t normally one to reach an orgasm, let alone be so turned on and fucked good to squirt the way you did so quickly and easily— but you really shouldn’t be that surprised. Nanami Kento was definitely nothing remotely close to your ordinary hookup.

Nanami adjusts his body to sit back upright, undoing the last few buttons on his shirt before letting it fall onto the floor behind him. You can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his now naked torso, his upper body somehow even more chiseled and built than what you fantasized it to be.

It leaves you wondering what other areas—specifically below the belt— will be even better than what your fantasies envisioned them to be.

“You made a mess.” Nanami’s tone is stern, yet simultaneously integrated with a hint of pride knowing he’s the complete reason why the mess is there in the first place.

You lift your head up, examining the damage done. He’s entirely correct— drops of your liquid drip down his chin, his chest, and ultimately join the damp bed sheets below.

“It’s your fault.”

“Maybe it is.” Nanami leans back in hovering over your face once more, leaving soft kisses on the side of your neck in between his words. “But you know, I think you should still be responsible for cleaning up after your own messes.”

Continuing to leave your neck with gentle kisses and nips, his hands work to swiftly undo the knot that binds your wrists together. The soreness of your arms bound together alleviates almost instantly when they fall onto the bed, allowing for a moment of peace and calmness to overtake your body.

Indisputably, it lasts just a moment and not even a second longer. Time was of the essence to Nanami, after all.

In a blink of an eye your body is flipped. You were now laying on top of Nanami, an arm wrapped around the back of your waist and the other lifting your chin up towards him once more.

“Lick it all clean off of me, and maybe you’ll get a reward you’ve been waiting for at the end.”

Nanami grips your chin, pulling your face in for another passionate kiss on your lips. A faintly salty flavour remains on his lips causing you to graze your tongue against his in the hopes for a better taste, and when you do you can’t help but to express your satisfaction through a small, moaning against him.

“My sweet, dirty doll.” Nanami smirks against your lips in between the kisses. “You like the taste of yourself that much, don’t you?”

You pull away, countering a smile back.

“I’ll like the taste of you better.”

Parting from his lips, you shuffle your body again to sit on your knees in between Nanami’s spread legs, his back now against the headboard behind him. Leaning forward to rest your upper body on his pelvis while your hands roam the muscles of his toned abdomen and forearms. You begin to trail down his body, slowly tracing with your tongue the liquid droplets across his neck and torso, cleaning and wiping them away from his skin and onto your tastebuds.

Your eyes flicker upwards, watching Nanami’s eyes pierce at your every action in awe observing you drag your tongue lower and lower across his body until your fingers start to play with the waistband of his pants. Your breasts push up against the now evident bulge in his pants, his cock throbbing for anything more you could give him— causing Nanami to desperately chew on the insides of his bottom lip to prevent himself from just pinning you back down on the bed and fucking you senseless already.

“You’ll let me taste you, won’t you, daddy ?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, and even through the eyeholes of the mask Nanami is struck by your request, hard in more places than one. “I want to make you feel so good you’ll cum in my mouth and I can taste how delicious you are.”

Unfastening the button of his pants, you bring your finger to slowly undo the zipper, teasingly brushing against his cock desperate to be released from its constriction past his briefs. The bulge is even bigger than you imagined now released from the one thicker layer of the fabric of his pants, making you gulp in anticipation.

“You want to make daddy feel good?” Nanami hisses, a hand sneaking up behind your head to tangle in your hair.

You tug at the rest of his bottoms, pulling down the remainder of his pants and briefs until they pooled to his ankles, kicked off and discarded with the other articles of clothing on the floor. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight before you— his veiny, erected cock standing proud, both extremely generous in length and girth.

Nanami definitely was in no way exaggerating earlier in the night when he used the numbers eleven and six to describe his cock.

A flurry of questions enter your mind: how was something of this caliber supposed to fit inside you? Down your throat? But how would something this large feel? Your cunt throbs at the imagination alone, subconsciously rubbing your legs together just the slightest.

There was only one way to find out the answer to your questions.

“You got so big and hard— just for me…” You whisper, wrapping a hand around the base only to let out a breathy exhale when you see how it’s not enough to even grip the entire circumference. “... I can’t wait to taste you…”

Gathering a pool of saliva inside your mouth, you let a trail of spit land just on the tip of his dick, covering the head with a new, sheen gloss. Your two hands begin spreading the saliva onto the remainder of his dick, slowly stroking up and down his shaft in what Nanami feels is an almost painfully agonizing pace.

It takes an immense amount of self control from Nanami to hold himself back again from just thrusting his hips upwards into your ajar mouth, jaw dropped simply due to how mesmerized you were by the shape and length of his cock. Unknowingly, your breath is hot, and mixed with the warmth of your hands wrapping tightly up and down makes it insanely difficult for Nanami to keep his composure intact. He wonders what you would look like if he just shoved his dick in your mouth right now, pushing far enough so his cock would protrude out of your cheek, maybe causing a tear or two to escape your eyes because you're choking on his cock, far too big for your tiny mouth.

But in this exact moment, all he can do is watch you, patiently waiting in anticipation of your next move and when you’ll free his throbbing cock from it’s imprisonment. He doesn’t see the need to dwell in imagination any further— he would make sure to see it play out soon enough in reality.

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide for a second, before a small smirk spreads across your face when you realize just what that unfamiliar feeling under the palm of your hands is. “I felt that… you’re thinking something nasty right now aren’t you?”

“I’m thinking about you .” Nanami groans out, voice caught in between your hands gently squeezing just a bit harder. “How pretty you’ll look when I fuck that cute little mouth of yours, making you choke on my cock until you cry.”

You let out a small giggle, grazing a thumb across the slit of his cock that causes another wince upon his face. A small ooze of precum seeps past the slit, and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight.

“Do it then.” You lean forward, taking a single lick of the tip of his dick, eyes locked onto his pupils behind the mask while the salty taste bombards your tastebuds. “Fuck my pretty little mouth just made to suck your big cock.”

Your tongue slowly begins to swirl the head of his dick, a thumb coming in between to graze across the sensitive slit. You can feel a particular prominent vein rubbing down the shaft of his cock throb under your grasp once more, inspiring you to trace your tongue along it up and down in the hopes of calming it down.

But you and Nanami know all too well it doesn’t—  in fact doing quite the opposite in reality. His cock becomes even more stiff at the sight of your tongue providing just a tease of what he needs, hungry and desperate for just some relief.

Nanami ultimately begins to think you're more of an angel instead of a fairy. A horny, beautiful, ethereal being that answers his silent pleas at last when you finally take his dick in your mouth.

You wrap your lips around the entire head, taking his length into your mouth and beginning to bob your head up and down. His dick is too big, your mouth only able to take barely half of his length, one hand working in its place to pump the remaining area your mouth is unable to reach.

The breath Nanami has been holding back finally escapes, eyes fluttering shut and head tilting back succumbing to the ecstasy of your tongue working in sync with your puckered lips, swirling around his shaft just perfectly every time his length enters the depths of your mouth. Nanami’s blown away at how good— really fucking good— your tongue works his cock, and he begins to become convinced maybe your mouth really was made to suck cock.

Yet, he thinks with a little help from him, you could make it an experience even better than ever before.

“You suck my cock so good, doll.” His hand lands gently on the top of your head, caressing it in encouragement briefly before it sneaks past to the back of your head again, tangling his fingers in your hair to pull it back and away from your face. “But I know you can do even better than this.”

The hand on the back of your head guides your pace, raising the speed of your head bobbing back and forth alongside the increase of spit formulating onto his cock, dribbling out the corners of your mouth. The sight of trails of spit coming down your chin releases an almost animalistic groan from Nanami, holding your head down just the slightest bit further than before and allowing the tip of his dick to meet the back of your throat.

Nanami holds your head there, watching your eyes begin to glisten looking right up at him. Your entire mouth is filled with more of his length than you could take, now being unable to even breathe properly, choking on his cock instead.

The sight is just as good as his imagination, perhaps even better . Messy, dirty, and sloppy— Nanami’s favourite type of blowjob, done effortlessly by you.

You gasp for air when Nanami releases your head, a trail of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. A smile curves on your lips looking up at Nanami’s expression above you, chest rising up and down in the growing lack of steady breaths, a bead of sweat rolling down from the side of forehead, teeth gritted, and a hand pumping his now wet cock.

“You like choking on cock, don’t you?” His free hand comes up to grab just under your chin, lifting your face up towards him. “That little cunt of yours is probably just dripping wet after taking a fat cock down your throat.”

Your hand trails down your body, feeling the wetness of the dripping saliva and sheen of sweat beginning to coat your body. A different type of wetness is found when your fingers reach between your legs, however, enough present to drench your entire cunt.

“I love choking on daddy’s cock…” You moan out, slipping a finger effortlessly in your own lubricated pussy. “...it turns me on so much, makes me so horny for more.”

Nanami curses under his breath, subconsciously pumping his cock faster watching you whimper and whine at your own finger fucking your cunt.  

“Open that fucking slutty mouth again.” Nanami commands. “You’re going to let me fuck that throat of yours until my cum is shooting down your throat— and add another fucking finger in your pussy while you're at it.”

You oblige without hesitation, slipping another finger inside your cunt while opening your mouth once more. Nanami’s hand rejoins the back of your head, holding you steady before sliding his cock into your mouth.

It becomes incredibly difficult to breathe, the little air you do have used on moaning against his cock repeatedly thrusting without mercy into your mouth. The head of his cock continuously attacks the back of your throat, now sore from the consistent assault but you can do nothing but take it, a situation that makes you throb between your legs.

You were being used just like a doll, his doll— and in this moment there was nothing more you wanted than that.

Stars fill your vision, and you’re not entirely sure if its from how good your cunt feels, fingers knuckles deep fucking yourself, or if its the sound of Nanami’s moans filling the air growing louder and louder as his hips start to lose their pace. Perhaps it's the combination of both, unwinding the familiar knot in your stomach that makes you release a loud, muffled moan against his dick, your fingers frantically riding out your high.

The vibration of your moan against his dick is the last straw for Nanami, letting out one last groan before shooting his ropes of white cum down your throat, the salty flavour bombarding your tastebuds. It’s a taste you’ve been dying for, and you savour every last drop, swallowing it all down your throat.

“Show me.” Nanami pulls his cock away from your mouth, instantly gripping your chin one again, forcing you to open your mouth. “Show me you swallowed it all.”

You lick your lips, before opening your mouth wide open, sticking your tongue proudly out to display the cleanness of the pad of your tongue.

“Two out of seven.” Nanami smiles, leaving a kiss on your lips that’s tender and comforting before the grip on your chin firms once again. “Five more baby, we’re only just getting started.”

[sodasback]

Let Go - Part 2

Reposted from my deleted account. Part 1 Part 3

JJ x Reader

Warnings: Post-Coitus, cursing, slightlyyyyy smutt, like barely

After a few minutes of you and JJ cuddling, the oxytocin in your veins started to fade. JJ shifted a little.

“Hey, I wasn’t thinking earlier ...about the hickeys. Cameron wouldn’t like.... hurt you if he saw them, right?”

Your pause said everything. Rafe didn’t physically harm you on a regular basis. But that’s not to say he hasn’t grabbed your wrist hard enough to leave a bruise once when he was mad and drug you away from the dance floor at a party. And he did punch the wall next to you once when you got in an argument. Slamming car doors was a pretty regular occurrence during heated discussions.

You honestly weren’t sure how he would react if he saw that not only did you cheat on him and another guy left marks on you, but if he found out it was JJ, you knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation that’s for sure.

“Fuck” JJ sighed when you didn’t answer right away, “I fucked up. I wasn’t thinking about what he could do to you when I did it. I’m sorry.” He groaned and started to sit up and ran his hands over his face.

You looked at him pleasantly confused. You and JJ had negged and insulted each other for years. Sure, there was always sexual tension and there had been moments throughout your lives when you weren’t constantly talking shit to each other. But you were still surprised that JJ was so worried about what was gonna happen to you if Rafe saw the hickeys.

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” You said sitting up.

“You literally told me not to leave marks because of Rafe and I didn’t listen because I wanted to piss him off. But I wasn’t thinking about pissing him off so much he might do something to you. It’s totally my fault, Y/N.”

“I just cheated on him, JJ. It's my fault if he's upset. And if he does something, it’s because he’s got issues, not because of you.”

JJ was staring at the marks he left on your neck and chest, looking concerned.

“Share your location with me.” He finally said.

“What?” You asked.

“When are you seeing him again? Tell me before you go and share your location with me.” He repeated.

You looked at him with curiosity. “Why do you care so much?”

“Why do I care if a guy hurts you because I left marks on you after you told me not to? You act like we didn’t just make love, Y/L/N.” JJ laughed a little.

You snorted, “’Make love?’ Really JJ? If that’s making love for you, I’m honestly a little scared to see what kinky rough fucking looks like in your world, but low-key really curious.”

JJ smirked, “You know what I mean.” He said, while you both got dressed.

“So that wasn’t just sex for you?” You asked, embarrassed by the obvious hope in your tone.

“Was it for you? I kind of felt like you and I have always had a little thing for each other. I mean, maybe it was just me. But I thought that’s why we always gave each other a hard time?”

“No, yeah, I always felt that too, I just didn’t realize you did. ...I feel like you understand me more than most people do. ...then again, I’m a pretty stereotypical spoiled rich girl, I guess I’m not that hard to figure out.” You said with a soft laugh, sitting on the side of the bed and looking away. JJ sat down next to you and tucked some hair behind your ear, causing you to look at him.

“I don't think you're as shallow as you think you are. And I kinda wanna find out.” He smiled softly, but then dropped his hand from your face and took a deep sigh. “But I guess... you have a boyfriend.”

An awkward silence filled the air before JJ continued, “Why are you with him anyway? I didn’t want to bring it up, but you know he cheats on you, right?”

“Yeah, I know” you admitted quietly, looking down at your hands.

“So why are you with him?” JJ asked again, angrily this time.

“It just made sense at first. Everyone expected us to be together. And we had fun in the beginning... and then when it wasn’t fun anymore, I just didn’t want to make him mad. It was easier to stay.”

Another palling silence filled the air for a second as you nervously considered your next move.

You bit your lip and looked at JJ and then moved to straddle him and sit on his lap. He looked at you with a surprised and confused expression, but still squeezed your hips a little as you put both hands on the back of his neck. “But now I’m realizing there’s pretty good reason to leave right in front of me.” You said before kissing him softly and he moved his lips against your’s sweetly.

JJ pulled away, “Am I the reason?” He smiled with just utter smugness and you shook your head, “Come on, say I’m the reason!” He said tickling you. “Come on! Say it!”

“Yes! JJ, you’re the reason!” You shouted through giggles. And he stopped.

“Knew it.” He gloated.

“So do you like... like me?” You asked bracing yourself for JJ to tell you he was just messing with you, but hopeful he’d say yes.

JJ laughed a little, “I thought Kooks were supposed to be smart with your fancy private schools and stuff.” You feigned offense and pulled his hair hard enough to pull his head back and he pinched your hips in response before chuckling again, “Yes, Y/N! I like you. I wanna date you. ...and ya know, hopefully fuck you again at some point.” He smirked.

You giggled and blushed. “Good.” You stated before kissing JJ again.

You bit JJ’s bottom lip and rolled your hips down onto his lap causing him to moan. JJ pulled away from you. “As much as I’d love to fuck you again right now. I do have to meet the pogues for something.” JJ said and you pouted. “Can I see you tomorrow night though?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled, “But can it be later? I should end things with Rafe first.”

“I should go with you.” JJ stated.

“What? No. That would be horrible. I’ll just wear clothes that’ll cover everything and make-up and I’ll end it. It’ll be fine.” You said, pretty unconvincingly. JJ looked at you skeptically.

“I don’t even think you believe that. You promise you’ll at least share your location with me and text me before you go?”

You rolled your eyes and JJ pinched your hip hard. You glared at him. “Sorry reflex.” He smiled.

“Yes, I’ll share my location with you.” You said.

“Good.” JJ said before pecking your lips and moving you off his lap. You both stood up and you walked JJ to his truck with all his pool cleaning stuff.

“See you tomorrow, pretty girl” JJ said, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and giving you a sweet kiss.

“Bye JJ” You said when you pulled away from each other.

JJ started getting in his truck, “Don’t forget to-”

“Yes. I know. I’ll text you and share my location” You rolled your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He asked with a smirk.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You asked defiantly only because you knew he had to go.

JJ shook his head at your audacity, “Ooh girl, you’ll find out tomorrow. Don’t worry.” He said getting in his car.

Kinky little butterflies swarmed your tummy at the thought as you smiled and watched JJ drive away before going back inside.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @hernameisnoell @moonrisebeach @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @railmerafe

[saynotoshityouhate]

photo from pinterest

Across the Alley (Adam Sackler x Reader)

summary: Your new neighbor likes to put on a show - but little did you know, he knows you’ve been watching.

note: this was a piece I wrote for the Summer 2021 @adcuficexchange for AO3 user 1986_Special, who also wrote my gift fic! I had so much fun with this prompt - maybe I’ll work on a part two?

cw: mutual masturbation, solo masturbation (male and female), watching your neighbor play, playing with cum like only Sackler can

Adam awoke as your bedroom light shone through his window. You were home; it was late. He wondered how the date he correctly assumed you’d been on, based on your many outfit changes, had fared. Poking his head up from his pillow, he looked across the alleyway to see you sitting on your bed, head in your hands. Must not have gone well, he thought.

Adam had been watching you since you’d moved in. He had noticed the moving trucks outside one day and, being curious, he looked out to see who his new neighbor would be. He ended up very pleasantly surprised. Over the course of the next few months he picked up on your little habits and quirks, like your love for black and white films, your morning dance parties in your underwear, and your favorite chinese food order. He found himself craving more from you - like why haven’t you brought anyone home, or why the pink vibrator is your favorite.

He’d also love to know your name, so he could hear it pass through his lips, tasting every vowel and consonant as he came.

----

After getting unceremoniously dumped by your long-term boyfriend, you needed a major life change. Moving to New York City as a single young adult was the absolute dream...right? You’d been surrounded by romantic media portrayals of life in the Big Apple growing up - Friends! Sex and the City! Will and Grace! How I Met Your Mother! As soon as you handed “he who must not be named” your set of keys, you knew this was the logical next step in your life plan.

It was your first night in your apartment by yourself when you noticed him. You had yourself all cozy in bed, watching your favorite old movie, when you heard a loud growl coming from across the alleyway. Carefully peeking out of the window, you saw a large man swinging a 2x4 around his apartment - wood and dust and glass were flying around his muscular frame, dressed in only a pair of low slung jeans and safety goggles. You called your best friend in the morning to let her know you had found your first crazy New Yorker - a right of passage and something to check off your NYC bucket list.

You worked from home, giving you plenty of opportunity to study this man across the alley. He had an odd sense of style - it was either the same pair of jeans (no shirt needed, a trait you quickly began to appreciate) or a dingy onesie that looked like something his great grandfather may have worn. He was some kind of carpenter, and was always shouting at something or someone. He had a dog, but only for a day, and didn’t often have company.

You were lonely - your friends were across the country, and every date you had been on so far had been a disaster. You were starting to reconsider this decision, but you were too stubborn to truly admit you were wrong. Plus, there were other ways to fulfil those lonely feelings.

When he didn’t have company, he had a certain nightly routine. He’d grab a tall glass of milk and a tattered old book from his extensive collection, and head into the bedroom. He’d read a few chapters until the milk was gone, and then make himself comfortable propped up with pillows against the headboard. He’d wiggle his hips, moving his tight black briefs down past his knees. He’d squirt two pumps of some kind of lubricant into his enormous hand before slowly, and not at all gracefully, bringing himself to orgasm.

You were usually already in bed when this routine would begin. Covering yourself with your blanket, you’d get comfy enough to watch the show, bringing your trusty pink vibrator along. You wondered if he knew you were watching him, if he knew you were touching yourself along with him, mirroring his long, languid strokes with your fingers, wishing it was his thick veiny cock that brought you to your release instead.

——

Adam caught on quickly that you were watching him too. He could gauge how your day was going based on how many trips you took to refill your coffee cup throughout the day. More coffee meant more stress, meaning more urgency for a way to relieve that stress. Who knew he’d have a dirty little voyeur move in next door? Adam had some kinks, but voyeurism was never one of them - until now. Tonight, however, Adam had a plan.

——

“Oh god, yes, yes,” you whimpered, eyes shut tight. Your head was full of the dirty things the man next door could do to you. The guy you had dinner with tonight was a total loser, some Wall Street know it all with a fancy apartment but zero social skills. Your neighbor was already asleep, so you had nothing but your own thoughts to put you in the mood. Thinking of his broad chest, muscular back, and endearingly goofy mannerisms tightened the coil in your lower belly. The image of his two hands pumping himself up and down while his entire body flexed in anticipation snapped that coil, causing your back to arch almost unnaturally, moaning louder than ever before. As you relaxed back down into the mattress, you turned your head towards your sleeping neighbor’s apartment. Only to see that he was not asleep.

——

As soon as your light turned off, Adam snapped to attention. He watched you reach into your bottom drawer, pulling out your favorite toy. He smiled. Show time. He gave you a bit of a head start, watching your body movements slowly increase in speed and intensity. He palmed himself through his briefs, wanting to last a bit longer. He saw the way your toes began to curl, spurring him to jump out of bed, kicking off his briefs in the process. He stood in front of the window, cock in hand, and watched as silent words spilled from your perfect lips, as your forehead furrowed and your back ultimately arched, stroking himself the entire time. It was the most erotic moment he had ever experienced. As his legs began to shake, he leaned one forearm against the window keeping his eyes on you from beneath his dark eyelashes.

—-

This was how you saw him, chest heaving, right arm pumping vigorously, a flush crept across his chest and neck, punctuated by his hair, dampened from sweat and stuck to his forehead. His eyes were trained on you.

You sat up in bed, fascinated by what was happening before your eyes. Your mind was reeling - so he knew what you were doing…and he was more than okay with it? How long had he known? Oh my god what if you saw each other on the street? He didn’t seem like a murderer - a bit erratic, maybe, but not a murderer. For every panicked thought, there were two that sent quivers throughout your already overstimulated body. You crawled to the edge of your bed, sitting cross-legged and watched as your neighbor climaxed, spurts of cum hitting the windowpane in front of him.

——

Adam closed his eyes for just a moment, regulating his breath and heart rate. Slowly opening them back up, he saw you were literally on the edge of your seat. He laughed, more than satisfied with his performance. Leaning down, he smeared some of the mess on his window, letting him write a crude “hi” message. He saw you laugh, covering your face and shaking your head. Adam scampered across his bedroom, wiping his hands on a dirty towel before grabbing a notepad and pen. He wrote a message and held it up against the dirty window for you to read.

“Hi! I’m Adam! Same time tomorrow?”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Break In The New Year ~ MYG [Request]

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

GENRE: Friends to lovers, New Year’s Eve, Non Idol Au, angst with a fluffy ending

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of house being broken into, heartache, and police cells 💕💕 

"I would owe you a big favour, we already went through this. You can hold it over me for the rest of my life." You tugged on Yoongi's arm as you walked through the supermarket together, begging for him to do you yet another huge thing for you. Yoongi had been your roommate since you were in college and you both continued to be roommates even after graduating and getting jobs. Moving in together was the best decision either of you had made since you knew each other for such a long time it made sense.

"You already owe me from the last time I did something for you." You rolled your eyes at him before jumping up to reach for the box of corn flakes that were on the top shelf, always on the top shelve. He was talking about how you'd gotten him to go to a family event with you so you wouldn't be the talk of the party and he would be instead.

"Then I'll owe you double, you don't understand Yoongi-" When he reached up for the box for you you stopped talking and thanked him for it placing the box into your trolley.

"They're like the bitches of Eastwick," He finished off what you were going to say since he'd heard the story about your co-workers a billion times from you. It was the truth though, the three of them were evil, whenever they got together you swore they were planning the end of the world.

"I told you that one already?" You laughed nervously while following along behind him to the next aisle, he was pushing the trolley this week since the week before you had an "incident". Which he brought pleasure in bringing up every time you whined about not getting to push it.

"I still stand by the fact that the trolley rolled on its own." You folded your arms over your chest like a child earning a chuckle to come from Yoongi as he raised his eyebrow at you turning to his side as he picked up some toilet roll for the apartment.

"The trolley, which you were pushing, rolled on its own into a rack of wine with you hanging on the back of it and shouting-" Yoongi stopped still as he lifted up his hands into the air and shook them as if he was trying to do jazz hands.

"Whee look at me, so much fun, so much fun!" He mocked in a high pitch voice to which you threw a roll of kitchen roll at his head bouncing off and ending into the trolley.

"I don't sound like that," You pouted at him walking around to the next aisle when you saw someone from work walking towards you, fortunately for you it was one of the nicer females on your office floor. Always trying to be pleasant with you and everyone around her, even she hated the three bitches of Eastwick on your floor. Everyone hated those three though, you didn't even think your boss liked them if you were being honest.

"Y/n? Hi!" You smiled at her walking with Yoongi as he looked at you with an expression of 'who is it?'.

"Hey Dawn, Dawn this is Yoongi. Yoongi this is Dawn from work. She's one of the IT girls." You smiled at Yoongi to let him know that Dawn was friendly and he reached out his hand to shake hers.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n talks so much about you. Roommates in college, roommates again. You must be very close." Dawn was being friendly with Yoongi so he smiled at her and joked about it with her,

"Very close, I'm secretly blackmailing her to stay with me really." He teased as you walked towards the freezer sections to buy food you would both need at the home.

Once you were out of the supermarket Yoongi looked at you,

"I'll go. But you owe me big. Huge." He told you as you began shutting the boot of his car, turning to look at him you smiled at him innocently. All of this was to get him to come along to the New Year's Eve party that your boss was throwing, it was a huge party that would be thrown on your office floor. They did it every year and every year you were alone which was why you were begging Yoongi to go with you this time.

"I don't like when you smile at me like that, y-you look creepy. Stop it." He begged you but you smiled even wider before wrapping your arms around his neck and giggling like a possessed doll as you tried to get him to do this for you.

"Thank you Yoongi!" You yelled gaining the attention of couples in the parking lot who were all giving you weird looks as Yoongi tried to get away from you trying to pull his body away from yours but you kept your grip on him.

"It's a date-" Yoongi told you before cutting himself off, he looked at you as he began to turn a slight pink colour at the thought of taking you out on a real date.

"I'll be your fake date. Dawn told me how the Bitches of Eastwick all slam you for never having one." His words came out in a stutter but you knew what he was trying to say and do for you so you thanked him. Unwrapping your arms from around his neck and smiling at him,

"You're a lifesaver. You have my soul until you decide to use your favours." You promised him, taking the trolley back over to the trolley bay leaving Yoongi to start up the car trying to calm down his brightening cheeks.

"No funny business either, you have to dress nice that night. It's an office party but everyone's going all out." You told him once you were back in the passenger seat beside him, he knew he'd agreed to this but now he was hearing more about it he wished he hadn't.

"It's a New Years Eve party, it's not as if we need to go all out-" He stopped talking when he saw the sad look on your face, he'd always found it hard saying no to you whenever you gave him that look and you knew that. It was like looking into a puppy's eyes whenever they were begging for food and it made him think of Holy back home. He reached out to cover your eyes with one hand,

"Stop playing that to your advantage, it's not fair. I'm not dressing up in a suit just for a party!"

"I'm dressed in a suit for a party." He grumbled a week later when he was standing in the apartment living room in his tux, it was an all-black piece with a black bow tie to match. He brushed his hands down the fabric as he stared at himself in the huge mirror above your fireplace.

"You look great, shut up." You muttered from the bathroom as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you wanted to look nice since there was going to be a photographer on-site snapping pictures of everything. It was true though, Yoongi looked sexy...Not that you would ever tell him that to your face you would be too embarrassed to.

"Right, Bitches of Eastwicks, names!?" You called out as you slipped into the pair of silver high-heeled shoes you'd gotten to go with your dress. This was a test to make sure he could perform well tonight as your fake date.

"Blonde one is Flair, Brunette is Mina and then the one with dyed blue hair is Claire?" He looked over at the bathroom door when he heard it open and his mouth almost dropped to the floor upon seeing you. The red dress you were wearing was a high-low one with lace sleeves just off the shoulder and then the rest of the dress was multi-layered with tulle, and a satin lining.

"What? Does it look bad?" You panicked to yourself, looking down as you ran your hands over the fabric but Yoongi shook his head. He hadn't seen you this dressed up since it was your graduation night and even that was just a pair of jeans and a fancy shirt - which you'd stolen from him.

"You look great...S-Seriously, you look...Wow." He was at a loss for words as he continued to look at you, it was just something you'd picked up in a sale shop. It was almost 50% off so you knew it had to be the dress for tonight, you could never afford the real thing in your lifetime or the next.

"Good...T-That's er...That's great." You both turned tried to ignore the awkward tension that was lingering in the air. The thing was you'd had a crush on Yoongi since you were in your first year at college together but he'd never been interested in you that way before. Deciding to go for other girls around you rather than you so you forced those feelings deep down inside of you. Yoongi, in turn, doing the same thing when he thought you didn't like him either.

"I'll drive," He grabbed his keys from the coffee table in the living room and began walking out towards the driveway.

Neither of you had discussed what this fake date evening was going to entail so when you got to the office Yoongi took over everything acting as though he was your boyfriend. He wrapped his arm around your waist while you did your best to ignore the tingling sensation it sent throughout your body. He kissed your cheek whenever someone would look at you both and spin you around as you walked across the dance floor.

"Let's go get a drink," He whispered to you as he made his way through the crowds of people, all of them dressed up just like the two of you were. Some even more extravagant - as if they were taking it as some kind of competition.

"Y/n?! Is that you?!" Yoongi felt your whole body tense up as soon as someone screamed out your name, all eyes working their way onto the two of you as you stood at the drinks table. Taking in a huge deep breath you prepared yourself for the fakest smile you could manage.

"Flair!" You cried out in almost a higher tone than hers, Yoongi's grip on you tightened as he turned you around to face Flair, from what he'd heard he was expecting someone old and mean looking but that wasn't what he was met with. As soon as he turned to look at the blonde mouth fell open, even more so then when he'd seen you at home. The dress you were wearing was on Flair's body only in black and with more beading, on the top half of the dress, she'd clearly had it altered. Your stomach sank upon the sight of her in it, every cell in your body turning against you and telling you that she looked better in it than you ever would.

"Oh look! We're matching," She said condescendingly as she moved closer to you, one of the worst things about Flair was that she faked her niceness. She would act as though she was your best friend, mimicking her digs at the way you dressed or looked as though they were nothing but playful banter between two friends.

"Oh wait, yours isn't the same. It looks like you got yours at a sale," The tag! You'd completely forgotten to take the tag out of the back of the dress and your heart began to thump against your chest at the thought of people seeing it on you and laughing about it but it was too late.

"Ah, my fault. I forgot to remove that for her when I bought it." You looked at Yoongi with tear-filled eyes mentally thanking him for at least trying to save you from embarrassment, everyone around you was starting to giggle and chuckle amongst themselves.

The tag was removed so Flair moved onto something else to dig at you for as she always did with everyone around her,

"Did you do your makeup? I just love this shade of red you have on your lips," Your hand raised to your lips as you tried to hide it from her, whenever she said she loved something it meant she hated it. You'd worked with her long enough to know exactly what she did and didn't mean when it came to things like this.

"You must be her date, Yoongi was it? Dawn told me all about you." Dawn hid behind her own date as Claire and Mina pushed you to stand behind them while they interrogated Yoongi. Who didn't look scared in the least and was smiling bigger than you'd ever seen him smile around you before. It was just like college all over again when he would find other girls to be with.

There was an hour to go until Midnight, Yoongi was walking over to you after spending most of his night with the bitches of Eastwick all of them laughing so loud you could hear them over the music blasting through the speaker beside your head.

"This is great! I can't believe you think Flair hates you. She loves your dress, hair and makeup tonight. She's even going to take you out for breakfast one day next week." You smiled falsely at Yoongi who was feeding into all of her lies, it happened with every guy who came into contact with Flair. At this point, you were starting to think that maybe she was a witch and could put a spell over anyone she wanted to. Deciding you didn't want to put a damper on his night you played along with it,

"Sounds great, is that for me?" You asked as you pointed at the drink in his hand, he stared down at it before shaking his head at you.

"No, I grabbed it for Flair. She's going to give me a tour of the building-"

"I can do that if you want to see it." You told him as you got up on your feet ready to take him wherever it was he wanted to go but a panicked look spread across Yoongi's face.

"No! Flair said she'll do it. She knows the lay of the land better, she's been here a lot longer than you have Y/n." And just like that, he left you alone by the speaker to overthink everything that was running through your head. Did he forget that he was supposed to be pretending to be your date? Did he forget that Flair was one of the few people you hated in this world? Dawn slowly made her way over to you with a drink in her hand holding it out to you in an offering and sign of peace.

"I have a blabbermouth," She whispered as she slid the drink into your hand, you smiled weakly at her shaking your head. Flair, Claire and Mina had their own way of bringing out that side in people though. People always found themselves spilling secrets or gossiping along with them just so they could feel like they were a part of something with them, just like high school when people would try to fit in.

"It's alright, we've all been there." You whispered to her before downing the drink she'd given you and rose to your feet once again wanting to get out of the room for a while. Clear your head and just get some air,

"Going to go to the bathroom." You told her as you began making your way out of the office and towards the ladies on that floor.

30 Seconds to go until midnight and you were still rushing around to try and find Yoongi, Claire and Mina were both with their dates on the dance floor chanting out the numbers of the count down. Someone claimed to have seen Yoongi up on the roof so you were sprinting up the two flights of stairs that lead to the roof exit, you'd just hit the top flight when you heard the chanting of numbers.

"10!" You were starting to breathe heavily as you continued to go up the final flight,

"4!" You whimpered as you pushed the huge door open until to then hear fireworks exploding, for a second you looked up at the night sky to look at them but your whole world came to a crashing halt when your eye went down to see Yoongi kissing Flair. His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer to him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she let out a small whine. A noise left your throat as you tried not to cry but the tears were already beginning to stream down your cheeks as you turned to leave before either of them could see you up there. You needed to get out of the building before he could question where you were.

"Fuck," You croaked as you made it into the elevator on the floor where the party was, you smashed against the buttons trying to get it to move faster before sinking onto the floor. Drawing your knees in against your chest as you sobbed into them, wanting nothing more than to get home to your apartment and be left alone to cry the night away. There was nothing reasonably for you to be upset or jealous over but Flair knew what she was doing. She'd heard Yoongi was your date and decided to go against it all and kiss him anyway. Then there was Yoongi. Kissing someone you viewed as your enemy, someone he knew you didn't get along with. Your heart was starting to clench every time you thought about them kissing the scene on the roof was something you were never going to be able to erase from your memory no matter how hard you tried to get it out. Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you reached the bottom floor, couples were making out everywhere you turned so you walked around with your head hanging low.

The walk home from the building wasn't that far so you didn't have to worry about a long journey but you just worried about how dark and late it was. You'd tried to get a cab but since it was New Year's Eve everything was pretty much booked out leaving you to walk home in the dark.

The whole way home you felt as though you were being watched, someone following behind you in the shadows but you put it down to being paranoid over it being a holiday. But something didn't sit right with you, there was a pit in your stomach but not the same kind you'd gotten when seeing Yoongi with Flair this one was different. It was like you knew there was something wrong but you didn't know what it was or had any idea what it could have been so you just picked up the pace of your walk. Trying not to jump every time a firework would go off or a drunken idiot would scream at you from across the road. You did your best to keep your composure as you reached your street.

The nagging feeling inside of you didn't stop when you got to your apartment but that was because when you reached your place the door was ajar.

"For fuck sake Yoongi," You muttered to yourself as you pushed the door all the way open and kicked off your heels. He was always the last one out of the apartment and always forgot to shut it and lock it properly. Putting you both at risk, tonight you didn't have it in you to ring him and tell him how much he fucked up.

"Fucking idiot-" You stopped whispering to yourself as soon as you walked into the living room, it was now clear what the nagging feeling inside of you was. The apartment was completely trashed, it was clear that someone had broken in and was looking for something. The TV was missing, the coffee table and mirror were completely smashed up along with a bunch of other stuff from the kitchen. Taking out your phone you walked through to the kitchen to see if anything had been taken and a bunch of kitchen appliances were missing. The drawers and cupboards open and everything inside smashed against the floor, you tiptoed back to the living room calling the police trying not to step on any of the glass that was on the floor.

"Hi, I need to report a robbery," You spoke into the phone as you worriedly looked around the living room.

"Can I take your name and address, please? Are you alone in the house or is someone still there?" The thought of whoever had done this to your apartment being inside hadn't crossed your mind until now and your anxiety began to pick up. Your heart raced against your chest as you glanced around not knowing if you were alone, surely if someone was in the house they would have made their presence known by now.

"I don't think so, I-I think they left-" There was a floorboard upstairs that creaked so you began to whisper to the lady on the phone telling her the address and name for the house while you tried to make your way out of the apartment without whoever it was that had broken in finding you.

Before you even made it to the front door someone came up behind you and grabbed you causing you to squeal and drop your phone on the floor. The operator began yelling but you couldn't hear what she was saying,

"LET GO OF ME!" You screamed out kicking back as hard as you could but whoever it was had the strongest grip imaginable on you as you tried to fight them off of you but it was useless.

"Fucking bitch!" A low voice growled as they dropped you onto the living room floor into the pile of glass that was below you after you bit their hand that had been covering your mouth.

"HELP!" You screamed out hoping that one of your neighbours would hear your cries and come to your rescue. You began crawling to get out of the way but the voice boomed out,

"Fucking come here!" Their voice was as deep as thunder which was scary enough, they grabbed onto your ankle as you tried to crawl away from them, you screamed as they dragged you along the class and into their grasp before they hit you over the side of your head-turning everything around you into black.

When you finally came to again there was a police officer calling out your name as they helped you up from the floor,

"You're Y/n, you made the police call?" You glanced at the officer and nodded slowly, your head felt as though it was on fire and the entire room was beginning to spin. A medic on-site began cleaning up your head, applying a cold compress to your skin.

"Yeah I made the call," You stared at his name badge and then back up at him. Officer Jimin. He had blonde hair and was writing down something in a small pad. The medic left you alone and went outside of the apartment.

"We found you on the floor, did the person who did this attack you? Did you get a good look at them?" You shook your head, whining out as you did so not wanting to move your head any more than you had to.

"Headache?" You hummed in response to his question and he sighed not wanting to put you through more any stress than you'd already been through.

"Do you have anyone you can call to go and stay with?" The thought of calling your mother terrified you, she'd told you not to move into the city with Yoongi so calling her and telling her the place was broken into wasn't an option. Yoongi was no doubt busy with Flair so you shook your head softly,

"No, my roommate isn't available." You mumbled as you got up from the sofa and looked around the whole place was a mess, you didn't know if you would be allowed to stay here or not.

"Well we're still doing some investigating but I can take you back to the station and have you in police custody for now. It won't go on your record, just somewhere to keep you warm and safe for the night," You didn't have the energy to fight him on it nor did you have anywhere else to go so you agreed to go with him to the police station. Provided you could grab some clothes to change into first.

The next morning Yoongi finally woke up in Flair's apartment with one of the biggest hangovers he'd ever had to nurse back to health but he bolted out of her place and headed for the nearest shop. Grabbing the largest fizzy drink he could find and began walking back to your apartment, all he wanted to do was get into the apartment and have a bubble bath but when he got to the street people were staring down at his apartment.

"Yoongi dear! You're okay?!" He frowned when one of his neighbours, an elderly lady Mrs Park, asked if he was okay. Of course, he was why wouldn't he be?

"I'm fine, I went to a party. What's going on? Where's Y/n?" The small lady began shaking her head as they watched a police car drive down into the driveway. The whole world seemed to slow down as he saw another cop car making his way onto the scene.

"Not sure, I woke up this morning to sirens and police tape, when I asked what happened they just told me to move." Another van passed by them and this time Yoongi could see the words "crime scene investigation" written across the side of it. His heart sank as he began racing towards the tape, dropping his bag onto the floor as he just sprinted ignoring the police yelling at him to stop.

"You can't be in here," An officer said as he looked up from the floor, Yoongi stared down at where he'd been looking to see blood on the floor. Bits of your dress was shredded everywhere,

"W-What happened?! Where's Y/n?!" His voice was cracking and going up in pitch as he stared around for you, you would have called him if something had happened right?

"Relax. Y/n is fine, she's in police custody while we investigate what happened here. You are the roommate that was busy last night?" The way the officer said that he was "busy" annoyed him but he grit his teeth and nodded along with him not wanting to get into trouble with the officer,

"Yeah, I'm Yoongi. Can I see her?" The officer shook his head,

"I need to ask you some questions before I take you down to see her. Where were you last night?" He rolled his eyes, he knew that it was their job to investigate every leady possible but what was the point in questioning Yoongi when he already had an alibi.

As soon as Yoongi walked into the precinct his heart sank and he began to feel heavy with guilt as he realised none of this would have happened if he had been with you like he was supposed to have been. You were sitting at a desk with a female police officer going over everything that had happened the night before, there was a bruise on your lower eye and a huge band-aid on your forehead that looked as though it needed changing since it had blood on it.

"Y/n!?" He yelled out, you glanced up at him and without smiling, you went back to talking to the police officer in front of you ignoring Yoongi as if he wasn't even there right now you didn't want to look in his direction.

"What happened to her?" Yoongi questioned Jimin as he was walked over to a separate desk.

"She walked home alone, found her apartment broken into and the assailant knocked her out after finding her in the house. You're lucky she isn't hurt worse than she is," Jimin grumbled as he began to write down Yoongi's night, taking note of every name he was giving to him. Yoongi did he best to remember exactly what time he got to Flair's apartment and what time he woke up so he could be in the clear.

"Y/n..." You glanced at Yoongi who was now sitting beside you in one of the staff rooms of the precinct.

"How was the party?" You asked him as you looked into the cup of coffee you were drinking, it tasted worse than anything you could imagine at this moment in time but it was the only coffee they had.

"How's your head? Did you see them?" You shook your head at him as you looked down at your hands, trying not to tear up at the thought of whoever it was being in the same house as you and hurting you.

"I should have been with you, I'm sorry." He dragged you into his arms but you didn't fight it. You rested your head against his chest as you sobbed silently into his ribs, listening to the way his heart thumped against his rib cage.

"I never should have left you alone at the party." Thoughts of where he'd been all night began to creep into your mind and you felt yourself getting jealous all over again but you bit down on your tongue as you fought the urge to say something about Flair.

"D-Did you go to Flair's?" You questioned, pulling away from him and getting up from the small sofa to bin the crappy cup of coffee you were drinking.

"Yeah. Nothing happened." He told you quickly, you looked over your shoulder at him.

"Not that it has anything to do with me. You're an adult Yoongi you can do what you want." You turned back in front of you and began looking into the vending machine for something to eat,

"Y/n..." Yoongi breathed out as he got up from the sofa and made his way over to you, his hand was resting on your waist. Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of him touching Flair the same way the night before.

"We're not a couple Yoongi, it doesn't matter to me who you go home with or who you make out with on the rooftop of my office building." You turned around to face him to continue your rant when his lips were on yours. Finally, after 5 years in college and then another two in your apartment, he was kissing you deeply. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck pulling yourself closer to him while he smirked against your lips,

"I went back to her apartment to cool down...I'd been drinking a lot since I wanted to kiss you at midnight...I kissed her on the roof because I was too intoxicated to try and find you." It was a dumb excuse he knew that and he could tell by the look on your face that you were thinking the same thing.

"I never should have left you alone...If you give me another chance and let me take you out on a real date. I'll make it up to you." You bit down on your lip as you stared into his eyes,

"I don't know..." You lied, trailing off your voice as you pretended to think about his office. He growled pulling you closer by the arms wrapped around your waist.

"You still owe me favours, this is me cashing them all in to take you out on a date." He whispered to you as he leant down to kiss your lips again.

"After we get the apartment back...A-and get new locks and a security system." You whispered to him as you kissed his nose, he nodded at you. Leaning forward and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Deal," He whispered against you lips before kissing you deeply once again.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[the-rad-pineapple]

i want u

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Supernatural oneshot: After they found a way to get Cas back from the Empty, things go back to normal between Dean and Cas. Dean thinks he made up the whole love confession thing. It was exactly what he wants to hear. Plus, he’s re-written his own memories before like when he lost Cas in Purgatory all those years ago. It totally makes sense he’d make up a love confession to cope with Cas leaving him again. Dean’s suspicions are confirmed when Cas comes back and doesn’t say anything about it to Dean. And things go back to normal as if it never happened. Because it didn’t.

Words: 2.7k

I’ve been writing angsty stuff for my current WIP, but then I had an angsty day and needed something sweet. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Inspired by Violent by Cummrs

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ao3

fanfiction

wattpad

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Today is one of the best days ever. Sam married Eileen. Dean cried. Multiple times. He ate too much at the reception and got a little tipsy. His best man speech rocked, though. Sam and Eileen left ages ago. They’re having their honeymoon in California. Dean can’t be happier. Everyone left a couple hours after them. The last people to leave were Jody, Claire, Kaia, and Jack.

Now Dean and Cas are sitting against the empty wall of the dirty dance floor. Music is still playing, and it echoes across the empty room, making the moment feel ethereal. Miscellaneous wedding decorations and napkins litter the floor. A lone broken high heel lays near the edge of the dance floor. Dean takes a swig of a champaign bottle and passes it to Cas. Cas doesn’t have his shoes on for some reason. He said it was easier to dance without them or something. He takes a drink from the champaign bottle. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned a few buttons on the top. His suit jacket disappeared hours ago. His hair is messy. He looks so good as a human. Cas hands the bottle back to Dean.

Dean takes it and stares at the empty floor in front of them. “This is the best day ever,” Dean decides. He takes a drink and hands the bottle back to Cas.

Cas hums. “It is one of the best I’ve ever had,” he agrees and takes a long drink.

“Mmhmm.” Dean leans his head against the wall and stares at Cas. The singular white light in the center of the ceiling casts long shadows on Cas’ face, making his face full of dark, sharp angles. It reminds Dean of the Cas he met in a barn over a decade ago. Dean lets the nostalgia wash over him as he stares at his best friend. Cas takes another drink from the champaign bottle and swallows. It’s really distracting, especially when Cas has his shirt unbuttoned like that.

After they found a way to get Cas back from the Empty, things went back to normal between them. Dean thinks he made up the whole love confession thing. It was exactly what he wants to hear. Plus, he’s re-written his own memories before like when he lost Cas in Purgatory all those years ago. It totally makes sense he’d make up a love confession to cope with Cas leaving him again. Dean’s suspicions were confirmed when Cas came back and didn’t say anything about it to Dean. And things went back to normal as if it never happened. Because it didn’t.

And Dean doesn’t really care. It hurt at first, but that was eclipsed by the ecstasy of having Cas back. He’ll take Cas in any way he can get. Angel. Human. Friend. Lover. Anything. Just as long as Cas is here and safe.

Cas hands the bottle back to Dean. Dean finishes it and sets the empty bottle down beside him. They don’t really have a reason to stay here anymore. It’s also getting late. And Dean is tired. They should go back to their hotel. Jody booked everyone a room at the hotel nearby as a wedding gift.

“I don’t want to move,” Cas says.

Dean chuckles. “Me neither.”

A comfortable silence lapses between them. The music is still playing. Dean closes his eyes.

“Dean.”

“Mmm,” Dean answers.

“I don’t want to move, but I also don’t want to sleep here.”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, yeah.” He opens his eyes and looks at Cas again. Cas is staring at him. Dean smiles. “What?”

Cas’ smile turns sad. “Nothing.” He looks away. “I suppose we should stand up now.”

“I suppose.”

Cas sighs and tugs his shoes forward. He slowly puts them on and ties them. Dean watches. Cas’ hands work carefully and precisely. Cas’ hands look soft. He finally stands up and looks down at Dean. He offers Dean a hand. Dean grabs it and stands up. Cas releases Dean’s hand, and Dean wishes he didn’t. Dean doesn’t want this moment to end. He likes being near Cas, and he knows once they get to the hotel, they’ll separate. It’s clingy as shit, but it’s how Dean feels. And he can’t do anything about that, can he?

He used to shove down those thoughts and feelings like they were something toxic. But, over time, he stopped doing that. He’s not exactly sure why. Maybe he’s just getting more comfortable with himself. Maybe he just doesn’t care enough to push them away. Maybe he’s just getting old. Maybe it’s all of those things. Dean doesn’t really know. And he doesn’t really care.

Cas smiles sadly at him again and turns away. Cas does that a lot now. Smile sad. He’s done it ever since he got back from the Empty. Dean thinks Cas misses being an angel.

Dean follows Cas down the short hallway and out into the parking lot. The Impala is the only car left. The summer air is warm and humid. The stars twinkle above them. Dean reaches into his pocket and grabs his keys, already missing today. It was so blissful and happy. Dean’s still adjusting to not feeling completely shitty all the time, let alone happy. It’s nice but also kind of weird.

They both head over to the Impala, and Dean unlocks it. They get inside. Dean turns the radio on to a low volume. The streets are practically empty, and the drive back to the hotel is relaxing. He also enjoys Cas’ presence, even if they’re both too tired to say anything. Just being around Cas makes Dean content.

They pull into the hotel parking lot and get back outside. The night air is peaceful, and Dean stands for a moment to feel it. He’s happy. Really happy. And so is Sam. They somehow did it. Part of Dean is convinced this must be a dream or something.

“Dean?”

Dean turns to look. Cas is standing in front of him, the lights from the hotel outline him. He’s so pretty. “Sorry,” Dean says. “Just don’t want this day to end, you know?”

Cas smiles. This time it isn’t sad. “Me neither.”

An idea pops into Dean’s head. “Wanna watch a movie in my room? We got the fancy tv’s here.”

Cas’ smile grows. “I would like that.”

Dean smiles back. “Awesome.”

----

Dean picks the first action movie he sees. He and Cas are sitting on his bed. Their shoulders are touching. It would take barely any effort for Dean to rest his head on Cas’ shoulder. He doesn’t.

Not even halfway through the movie, Cas starts to fall asleep. It’s selfish, but Dean doesn’t wake him up. He’ll take as many moments as he can with Cas. Besides, Dean will wake him up once the movie is over. But Dean doesn’t count on drifting off himself.

“Dean.”

Dean jerks awake, immediately on alert. He doesn’t have a gun on him, and he goes rigid.

“Dean,” Cas says again, gently.

Dean blinks and blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Oh, that’s right. They’re fine. They’re in a hotel. Sam got fucking married today.

Cas continues, “I think we missed the movie.”

Dean chuckles and looks over to him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Cas looks sleepy. His eyes are half open and his hair somehow got messier. His clothes are wrinkled, and he has a dazed smile on his face. He’s gorgeous.

Dean smiles. “You can stay here if you want, sleepyhead.”

Cas lifts his head up from where it was resting against the wall. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not. You never are.”

Cas smiles at him again. But it’s one of the sad ones. “Thank you, Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” They stare at each other. The longer it gets, the more awkward it is, but Dean can’t look away. To break the silence, he says, “I can take the couch.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

They stare at each other again, but Dean is too tired to care. He closes his eyes.

A few moments pass before Cas says, “We can share the bed if you’re comfortable with that.”

Dean cracks his eyes open. “Yeah, okay.” He ignores how his heart jumps in excitement. They’re not even going to do anything, and he’s elated. Dean kicks off his shoes and automatically starts unbuckling his pants and freezes. “Is it okay if I don’t have pants on?” He glances at Cas.

Cas is already halfway under the covers. His eyes flick over Dean’s body. It’s so fast that Dean thinks he makes it up. “Yes, that’s fine,” Cas answers.

The mental image of Cas checking him out—real or not—makes Dean blush, and he quickly looks away and finishes taking his pants off. He shuts down every dirty thought he gets in the process; it’s easier than it usually is since he’s so damn tired.

Dean turns to Cas, and Cas is definitely staring at his bare legs this time. “Can I turn the light off?” Dean asks.

Cas’ eyes snap up to meet Dean’s. “Um, yes.” His cheeks turn pink.

Dean stares for a second and then realizes he’s probably making things worse by staring and quickly looks away at the lamp on his bedside table. He hits the switch and slides underneath the covers. He can feel Cas’ body heat next to him and forgets how to breathe. The temptation of having the one thing he wants most in the universe right next to him is too much. He’s tense and as close to the edge of the bed as he can be without falling off. Dean is wide awake now. He doubts he’ll get a wink of sleep.

Cas shifts beside him, and Dean nearly jumps out of his skin. Thankfully, Cas doesn’t seem to notice. Cas’ breathing evens out. Dean closes his eyes and focuses on the sound. He wants this so fucking bad it hurts. He squeezes his eyes shut harder when he feels the pin-prickle of tears forming. He won’t cry. Not on a good day like today. He spent way too many nights drinking and crying himself to sleep when he thought Cas was dead forever. He won’t do that when he has Cas literally right next to him. Dean swallows down the lump forming in his throat. As sleep tugs at his mind and consciousness begins to fade, he can’t help but think, I love you. I love you so fucking much. I think it’s killing me.

----

Dean wakes up, and he can’t remember where he is. He knows it isn’t the bunker. He feels a body next to him. He’s not even fully awake, and he can’t bring himself to remember who he’s in bed with. Damn. It’s been a while since he’s had a one-night stand. Loneliness stabs him in the chest, and he shifts towards the warmth of the person beside him. He reaches on arm out, and touches their back. He snakes a hand around their waist and pulls himself against them. Dean feels them begin to stir.

“Shh, go to sleep,” he murmurs.

That seems satisfactory, and they relax. They interlace their fingers with the hand Dean has draped over their waist. Dean pulls them closer. He’s so fucking needy and lonely. He wishes he was holding Cas. He pretends he is.

----

Dean’s pillow feels weird. It’s lumpy but soft. It’s very warm. It also smells like Cas. Which is also weird. Why does his pillow smell like Cas? Cas is dead. But, no. No. Cas is alive. He has been for months now. Dean just forgets when he wakes up sometimes.

Dean keeps his eyes closed as he rests. Any second he’s not fully awake is a good one. Dean then realizes his pillow has a heartbeat. Dean’s pillow might not be a pillow. He’s lying on someone. Someone who smells like Cas.

Dean’s heartrate spikes, and he jerks his head up.

Cas blinks up at him. “Are you alright?” Cas asks, his voice deep with sleep. Well, deeper than usual.

“Yes,” Dean says. “I just forgot you’re alive.”

Cas blinks again. “Oh.” He reaches up with one hand and cups Dean’s face. “Well, I’m alive.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Cas smiles back. It’s the brightest smile Dean’s seen on him since he’s been back. But then it turns sad. Like it always does. Cas starts to pull his hand away, but Dean quickly grabs it. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing; he’s still not even fully awake. Dean closes his eyes and leans further into Cas’ touch, keeping his hand on Cas’. He doesn’t want Cas to move away.

Cas’ breath hitches. “Dean,” he begins.

And Dean can tell by Cas’ tone that he is going to tell Dean to let go or something. Dean doesn’t want that. “Shh,” Dean says.

“Dean,” Cas says more firmly and tugs on his hand. Dean doesn’t let go. “Don’t do this.”

Dean opens his eyes. Cas’ smile is gone, and all the sadness has moved to his eyes. “Do what?” Dean asks.

“I know you’re doing this just because of what I told you before the Empty took me.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t feel obligated to…to sleep in the same bed as me or hold my hand like this just because I love you.”

“What?”

The hurt in Cas’ eyes throws Dean off so much that Cas manages to snatch his hand back.

Dean stares. Then swallows. “I thought I made that up,” Dean whispers.

“Made what up?”

“That you—that you…” Dean swallows again. Why is his mouth so dry? “That you lo—” His voice cracks. He furiously blinks back tears. “You said that, right?”

“You don’t remember?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I do, I just…I thought I made that up. Because I—I want…” He licks his lips. “I want you.”

Cas stares at him with wide eyes.

Dean’s blood runs cold. “Wait, am I completely misinterpreting this, oh my god, Cas, I’m so sor—”

“You want me?” Cas is still staring. His eyes still wide with disbelief.

Dean’s already gone this far. There’s no turning back now. Might as well tell Cas everything. “You’re all I ever wanted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Absolutely not!” Dean is just as surprised at his outburst as Cas is. He takes a deep breath before continuing, much calmer this time, “Cas, I have a hard time saying, ‘I love you’ to Sam. Why would I ever say that to you unless I completely mean it?”

“You didn’t say, ‘I love you,’” Cas tells him. “You said, ‘I want you.’ There’s a difference.”

That stubborn motherfucker. But Dean can be stubborn right back. This will show him! “Well, I love you. So there,” Dean states, staring at Cas to challenge him on that.

“Oh…” Cas’ gaze becomes distant.

“Yeah, not so fun being on the receiving end of a love confession, is it?”

Cas is unresponsive.

Uh, oh. Dean cups his face with one of his hands. “Cas, buddy, look at me.”

Cas’ eyes finally focus on Dean. “Y-yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes,” Cas repeats.

Dean leans in and gently presses his lips against Cas’. There’s a moment where neither of them move, as if what they’re doing isn’t real, but then Cas’ mouth opens up under Dean’s, and Dean moves in closer. He still has one hand on Cas’ face and moves it back to tangle in his hair. Dean allows himself to get lost in the kiss. It’s slow and gentle and even better than anything he dreamed a kiss could ever be. It’s all Cas, Cas, and more Cas, and Dean’s heart is soaring. He pulls back just far enough to whisper, “I love you so much.” before kissing Cas again, a little more desperately this time.

Dean isn’t quite sure how long they do this; kiss each other stupid with their bodies pressed into each other, but he treasures every second of it.

This day is somehow even better than yesterday. And, who knows? Tomorrow might even be better than today. But one thing Dean knows for sure is that they have all the time in the world, and he’s not going to waste a single minute.

[forthehpfanboys]

Dance With Me

Pair: Draco Malfoy x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Draco really wishes he asked you to the Yule Ball. He wishes his father wasn't such a prude. He wishes you were on his arm, not Potters.

Warnings: Swears, like usual, small homophobia??

Notes: Requested! Bisexual! Harry is the only Harry in this blog. Also, Harry is supportive and I shamelessly put some Blaise/Ron in this but it’s like the smallest mention possible. Anyway, enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

Draco watched on with a glum expression and prayed to whatever wizard gods are up there that it wasn’t noticeable. He glanced down at his polished shoes before shifting weight across between his feet. He cleared his throat, and rolled his shoulders back, trying to shake off the jealousy he felt deep down. This was the very last place on the entire planet he wanted to be standing in. He did not want to have to stand here next to Pansy Parkinson, listening to her go on and on while his rival danced and laughed with his long term secret crush.

He really should’ve asked you. The thought kept spiraling in his head, causing him to white knuckle the glass in his hand. He really should’ve ignored his father and just asked you. His icy eyes watched Potter dunk you playfully- since when did that git learn to actually fucking dance? His eyebrows furrowed when he saw your laughing expression and Harry’s sly smirk into a similar grin. The blonde really wanted to gag at the sight.

“So then (L/n) tried to do this stupid spell and it only blew up in his face, literally. Stupid mudblood really shouldn’t have been excepted into this school.” Pansy went on, giggling at the story. “He really is pathetic, isn’t he, Draco?.. Draco?”

“Don’t call him that.” Draco grumbled. He wasn’t fond of his ‘date’ talking smack about the male he’d rather be spending time with. 

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you actually think he’s got talent or like.. Potential.” She was giggling again and the sound was almost more annoying than watching the pair dance and laugh.

“I don’t- Just- Oh for fucks sake, go get a drink or something.” Draco rolled his eyes, fixing his suit collar. He didn’t even watch his date strut away in her dark green cocktail dress. Instead, he turned from the sight and slammed his glass down on the table behind him. He resisted his urge to run his fingers through his perfectly combed hair.

“It isn’t too late, ya know.”

Draco didn’t have to look to know it was Zabini. The blonde sat down in his chair before grumbling back a response.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Draco really just didn’t want to be here. Every time he closed his eyes he saw you, clad in a suit that he desperately wanted to tear off you, dancing with The-Chosen-One. Merlin, he felt his heart ache.

“Draco.” A hand came to rest against his shoulder. “We know you took Parkinson just because your dad is a little traditional.” 

“A little?” Draco couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “My father is far from only a little traditional, Zabini, we both know this.”

“While it’s true, I think you should talk to him. The dance doesn’t end for a good few hours, mate. I’m sure he’d be down for at least one dance with you.” A silence fell over the friends for a few seconds before the blonde spoke up again.

“You don’t hate me? For liking a muggle born?” Draco clarified with clearing his throat.

“Draco.. For a Slytherin who gets O’s on almost all his exams, you sure can be dull sometimes. I’m your friend, like I have room to judge you.” 

“Oh, right, Weasley-”

“Anyway, have fun whooing him. Invite me to the wedding.” 

Draco watched his friend retreat into the crowd, choosing to ignore the blush burning into his cheeks before turning his attention back to the pair dancing. He watched you shed the top coat of your suit, sliding it onto a chair and rolling up your sleeves. The heat must be getting to you.

Draco knocked back the rest of his drink. Merlin, it was hot in here, or maybe it was just you. The blonde subconsciously licked his lips as he watched you go back to the dance floor. He just when a drink slid across the table and Pansy sat down next to him, effectively blocking his view of you.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sipping her own drink.

“Nothing.”

“Do you wanna dance, then?”

“Not particularly.” Draco didn’t bother hiding the venom from his words. He wanted you on his arm, you asking him to dance, not her. It was always you. You should be tired with how often you run through his head.

“Fine, I’m going to find Blaise.” the Slytherin female stood up, watching Draco’s face for hints of any emotion.

“He went off with his date, good luck.” He shrugged, simply turning back to his drink. With a groan, Pansy left once again, taking her drink with him. His blue eyes went back to you for the umpteenth time that night, desperation hidden behind the irises. 

The blonde could imagine the look on his father's face if he ever brought you around. He could practically hear the disapproval and the pure disgust in his voice, stating he no longer had a son when it shouldn’t matter.

His happiness should be what matters the most. He wasn’t happy with Pansy, he was happy with you. He didn’t want a pureblood witch ready to follow him like a lost puppy. He wanted the muggle-born wizard who was now slow dancing with Potter. His eyes followed Potter’s hands that seemed to be heading south far faster than they should be for a slow dance. That was what snapped the final straw. 

He set his glass down, adjusting his suit once more before making long strides over to you. Harry noticed him first, his face scrunching up in confusion, causing you to turn around and look at the blonde. The way you innocently titled your head should be considered a criminal offense.

“Malfoy.” Harry spoke up.

“Potter.” Draco spat out as his icy eyes trailed up and down his rival.

“(L/n)!” You shouted, throwing your hands in the air, trying to disperse the awkward tension. You knew Harry was holding back a giggle. “Are we good? Did I defuse the tension good enough?”

“Like a professional defusing a bomb!” Harry chuckled out, his hand going around your waist.

“Say, Potter.” Draco spoke up quickly, his eyes glued to the hand on your hip before moving swiftly to meet your eyes. “May I steal your dance partner?” Draco held his hand out to you, his other going behind his back as he bowed, like the gentlemen he was.

“If that’s what he wants.” Harry tried to hide his grin. He’d known how you felt about the blonde for a while so he was so down for this interaction to take place. After all, he only danced with you to get Draco’s attention. Once Zambini became a low key friend, he’s gotten to know the Silver Trio a lot better from a distance and about Draco’s little crush on you. The whole plan was just made Draco jealous; fair and simple.

“Hmm, I’m not sure.” You teased, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed along his monochromatic suit. He looked good. In fact, he looked down right sexy- Holy shit- He should wear white more often. 

“Dance with me, (Y/n). Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation would you?” Draco smirked, clearly joking as he pushed his hand closer to you.

“Oh, so polite and totally not self centered!” You placed your hand in his, doing a pathetic curtsy in your dress pants. You tried to ignore the primal urge to just hold the man's hand, maybe gaze under some stars with him. “Mom always did say it would be rude to say no to anyone who wishes to dance.”

Draco smiled and whisked you away. He led you into a spin before pulling you back into his chest, quickly taking the lead like his mother taught him too. One hand was resting gently against your waist while the other gripped your hand. 

“So.. Um.. What’s up?” You asked as the two of you began to sway to the music. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from the grin.

“Not very good with small talk are you?” Draco snickered out. He hated to admit it, but he really should’ve fucking asked you to dance sooner. Your body fit perfectly against his and he couldn't stop staring at your sparkling eyes.

“Well, you are quite intimidating.” You giggled out when he spun you around again. You couldn’t stop the blush from spreading across your face when he pulled you against him, but his chest was pressed against your back.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, love. I don’t bite.” His sultry voice whispered right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“I never said I was scared of you, Draco.” You craned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. I actually like to think you're not as tough or bad as you play out to be.” 

“Wha-” Draco blinked a few times before spinning you back around and tugging you roughly against him. “What do you know about me?” He couldn’t help how his grin morphed into a sneer or how his hands tightened their grip on your waist.

“Draco, come on. Everyone knows you got shit going on at home.” Your hands were running through his hair, ruining Pansy’s hard work, not that he cared. He loved feeling your hands run through his hair so much he didn’t notice himself sighing. “See? You’re just a misunderstood softy stuck between a rock and a hard place.” You giggled out. It was cut short when Draco was suddenly pushing you back, forcing you to walk backwards by the grip on your waist. He didn’t stop maneuvering you backwards until your back bumped into a wall, leaving you stuck between the male and a hard place. You stared into his icy eyes, your hands pressed against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m not a softie. I’m not a teddy bear! I’m a bloody Malfoy! I make my own bloody choices and I do what I want!” Draco pressed his chest against yours as he spoke. It was clear he was trying to intimidate you. His mood shifted a bit when your arms moved to wrap themselves around his neck.

“So kiss me.”

“What?!” His eyes got wide, his pale cheeks tinted a soft pink. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you were already going.

“It isn’t exactly a secret you fancy me, Draco. You’ve been staring at me since the dance began.” You smiled at his shocked expression. “That and Blaise told me. So, if you truly do what you want, you’d kiss me and maybe take me back to your dorm room.”

Draco stood shocked, his inner battle event on his face. Go against his father, his own bloodline and everything he’s been taught just over some feelings? You were a mudblo- muggle born wizard for fucks sake. His parents, his father, would disown him for the wizard bit alone! 

But did his dad have to determine everything he did? Did he really have to follow this bullshit code that should’ve died ages ago? Did he really have to be a pawn in his father's stupidity? 

His eyes watched your tongue trail across your lips and he made his decision. Draco’s hands tightened their grip once again on your waist before he quite literally slammed his lips against yours. He pressed his body harder against yours, if it was possible when you kissed back and shuddered when your fingers threaded through his ruined hair.

You truly didn’t know how badly he wanted you. You didn’t know the inner turmoil the poor male had been fighting since the stupid ball was announced, but the kiss. The kiss helped Draco express his passion for you, his love. He would charge into battle for you, put up with Potter for you, hell, fight his father for you. He’d ignore the stares of shock from the crowd and the unamused expression of his forgotten date.

You got under his skin and stole his heart. You were worth more than the stars in the sky and he wouldn’t let anyone separate the two of you. That night, he made sure you knew how much you meant to him.

[whump-town]

Puzzle Peices

Warnings: the vague mention of Emily smoking, child abuse bc Hotch, and major character death but like... not heavy

No pairings

Just not the best but I haven't managed to write anything in like forever and this happened today so what the hell?

As a boy, Jack had thought his father something akin to a knight. Adorned in an armor that he could not peel away as simply as the suits he wore to work each morning. As humble as a knight and lucrative in speech and behavior as only one from the highest order. A right hand to the queen, though Jack could never decipher exactly who that was. Perhaps one of his aunts. Many times he’d seen a customary bow out of his father, carrying a wailing Henry around to give his mother a break or moving Penelope’s couch around to as many absurd places as she requested. Even as protective, as demanding as one. Dragging himself limping and bleeding home to recount a lie meant for Jack’s ears only for Emily to tell him, hushed by the late hour of the night and the novelty of time spent together, that his father had done something heroic. Brave but so very stupid.

Bravery, Jack would come to understand, in his father had always been linked in arm with stubbornness.

He was four when his mother died, too young to understand exactly what had happened. He wasn’t alone in that confusion. The circumstances of her death had been abnormal. No one seemed to be able to understand, least of all his father. Who had held her body in his arms. Who had been pried away, sedated to get him out of the house. Now laying supine and dazed. Repeating his slurred questions for anyone willing to answer them a third time.

Haley had been an attentive mother and with his father’s attention hazed in and out by drugs, Jack had felt the startling icy fingers of solitude seeping into his bones for the first time in his life. Never before had he been so alone. His mother dead and his father stumbling to follow after. Startled into silence he’d sat by his father’s bedside, left swaddled in his suit jacket to wait out the instruction of an adult more put together than Hotch.

Jack remembers his father’s weak cries, his voice dried out and confused. Asking again and again for Haley, until he couldn’t even manage to get words to pass his pale lips. Until his dark eyes sunk shut.

Jessica took him in her arms that night, a habit she formed that day in the hospital and never kicked until he was too big to collect like a baby and nestle in her lap, and told him about his parents. A story mutilated time and time again to create an almost, not even a half-truth. His mother, the prom queen, and his father the too shy, too reserved bad boy. About the night she won the crown and tore out of that dance with her fancy, expensive prom dress to go dance with his father. The delinquent who had been expelled the week before, who couldn’t attend the dance but was adamant she go without him.

But Jack couldn’t imagine his father like that. Only as he is now, only as he has always been in Jack’s memory. The past he could see written out on his father’s flesh, a roadmap that dated him back to this boy Jack could not comprehend him as. Scars raised like mount peaks and valleys of tissue and muscle that Jack traced his fingers along, hoping to catch a version of the truth in their layers. There was still a boy in the depths of his father’s aged eyes. In his falter to punish Jack, never raising a hand but losing control of his voice. In the hot tears that streamed down his face in the aftermath, in the way that Jack felt more guilt over those tears than what he’d actually done. Sometimes in his father’s light, jovial laughter Jack could catch a glimpse of that boy. The one Jessica could only whisper about, the one she’d thought was buried alongside Haley.

How could his father have ever been so young? Knocked around by emotions too strong for such small bodies. In part, Jack couldn’t understand it because he knew nothing of his father’s childhood. He could trace his fingers along scars and date them by his father’s willingness to speak about them. Accidents, the majority of them. The clumsy stumblings of a twenty-seven-year-old, a story to be told with a gently sad smile. Refocused narratives that tell him more about his mother than the scar. Gunshot wounds and horror movies slasher bad guys with knives. Those were the stories told by the light of the lamp on his bedside table. Told in the low grumble of his father’s sleepy voice, ones Hotch didn’t even look to see just laid there and knew by touch which ones were being inquired upon.

It was the scars on the great expanse of his chest, the perfect circles on his wrists and by his elbows that deserved no comment. That Jack learned to know better than to ask about.

“My father smoked a lot,” Hotch began but his eyes would get this haze and he’d fall silent before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it buddy,” he’d decide instead. Keeping to himself the secrets of those scars. Bit by bit Jack still learned to put together the intricate truths until he understood for himself how those perfect circles made their way onto his father’s arms. Until he understood why Emily never smoked around his father and why she always did her best to stop. His father’s impressive armor torn to shred in Jack’s curious fingers and he no longer wished to understand the human underneath.

His father was unforgivingly private.

Never prone to gossip nor betrayed secrets, or pried into Jack’s life. He asked about grades when he felt it necessary but trusted that if there was a problem, he’d know about it. He never went through Jack’s room, wouldn’t even take out old laundry or pick up dirty dishes. If asked he’d give one of his solemn nods but never followed it with a comment. Never passed judgment on Jack’s frequently messy room, simply went in and left. It never occurred to Jack he’d do anything different. That he’d search through his drawers or scold him for his mess. The boundaries were set. Parent and child and Hotch did not easily forgive these boundaries being scorned in others.

Jack did not find it easy to reciprocate these boundaries with his father.

His gravely sullen father had only ever interested him. The moment his father left in the mornings or in the death of night Jack would find himself in his father’s room. Unzipping the bags holding those larger than life dry-cleaned suits, softly rubbing at the material. Hoping to find something, a puzzle piece to connect to the choppy image he has of his father. Not even the pictures Jack found of the closet answered his questions. There were pictures of his mother, countless in their abundance with his father appearing seldom. Always in the corner, just out of focus.

That’s how most people see his father. The figure standing just to the side of the action and out of focus.

Between the ages of four and sixteen, Jack heard over a dozen versions of the story about his mother being crowned prom queen. He’d seen pictures of her that young, understood why it was that people liked her so easily. She had effortless charm but Jack was left with his father’s fumbling shy ways, reserved where his mother was bright and cheery. Over the course of that time, the story changed a little every time it was told.

Jack placed his own version, understood what parts were truths and what parts were not.

That night Hotch hadn’t been at the prom (that part is always the same) but it wasn’t because he was expelled, he was in the hospital. There’s a scar on the back of his neck, unphased by time and still thick and ugly despite the decades it’s had to heal. Hotch had flipped his old truck the week of the prom, laid up pretty bad in the hospital. Bad enough Haley had been afraid to leave him for the night. Hadn’t wanted to leave him alone that long or even to go have fun without him. She had gone but only because he’d begged her to and when she’d won she hadn’t even waited for her dance. She’d come back to the hospital in her flowing gown and crown, plucked the silly thing down in his messy hair, and decided she was saving her dance for him.

He’d danced with her three weeks later. Having worked hard to stand again, nurses and his physical therapist standing close by just in case he couldn’t make it through the whole song but he had. She was wearing a summer dress and he was wearing her crown.

But he doesn’t learn this in one fell swoop.

On his seventeenth birthday, he walks out of his bedroom, shuffling outside in his boxers and still squinting through the sun when keys are pressed into his hand. A truck, “I had a similar one when I was your age”, and the customary crooked smile his father often wore when speaking about his childhood. Later that night he’d ask what Hotch’s truck had been like, why he got a truck of all things. And, in the spirit of the day and because at night Hotch was always a little more willing, to tell the truth, Hotch had told him about his truck.

He’d spent two summers saving up for it. Working towards his license and the truck and saving to ensure he could keep it on the road. He’d flipped it when he was eighteen. That’s why he hadn’t made it to see Haley crowned prom queen.

But that wasn’t the full truth either.

Hotch really did flip his truck but those injuries were minimal enough he’d driven home and there his father beat him within an inch of his life. The sort of injuries that left nothing but a gaping hole in Hotch’s memory and the need for a story to tell the nurses. With enough panic and tears, they made it through the E.R. and no one mentioned the lack of blood in the cab of the truck or the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around Hotch’s throat. They noticed. They had to but no one said anything.

Jack doesn’t learn about that truth until he’s in college, old enough to cave to curiosity and far enough away from his father to lack the guilt he should have for prying. He’d spent an afternoon looking over newspaper articles from that time. One article is dedicated to the beautiful, radiant Haley Brooks. All charm and intelligence, no one could think of a better girl to win prom queen. The other a hazy black and white photo of that old pick-up truck and his father, so young Jack can’t believe it’s really him, laying in a hospital bed. A tube down his throat but his eyes opened to slivers, giving the camera a thumbs up.

Jessica tells him about the dance and how serious the injuries had really been. She was only a little bit older than his parents but she’d still been young. Scared watching in slow motion as the weight drop off of Hotch. Leaving him skeletal and so still. They moved him around, kept a walker at hand to try and get him to move but most of the time he couldn’t even manage to hold himself upright. The night of the prom he’d been sitting in a chair by the bed, moved to try and make it look like he’d done it by himself. All for the benefit of Haley. All the nurses were in on it, he’d been hard to argue with during these days. No one really knew if he’d make it and it made his soft request impossible to deny.

So Haley had been welcomed by his illusion, blankets covering the chest tube in his side and pillows sitting him up. Her aim for the night was to stay here with him, another request she knew would be breaking the rules but they were just so hard to say no to. But he’d been adamant, breathlessly fighting with her, until he won. She’d caved seeing him gasping for breath, shaking under the exertion it was taking to fight with her. So she went.

Jack grew obsessed with these stories.

Held onto every piece of his father that anyone was willing to tell him about.

Collected newspapers about him. Articles he was mentioned in. Watched interviews. His intense search for his father made it feel more like Hotch was the dead parent. The one just out of his grasp but Haley had always been available to him. He had home videos of her. Photos in bountiful supply. Stories from everyone who had ever known her. He knew about her childhood. He knew she broke her ankle when she was eight and that Roy had been impatient with her. Harder on her because he thought she was too soft, too comforting and he knew someone would take advantage of that.

His father… there was only mystery.

So Hotch was everywhere Jack could put him. In pictures when he was four. Drawn out like a wisp of smoke, dark and thinly stretching up towards the sky. In the stories he fought out with action figures. The broken hero there to save the day at the very last minute. Crashing through the ceiling, shouting down the hall. The hero.

Hotch always encouraged an open, broad education. Boy scouts. Soccer. Swim team. Drama club. Writing classes. Two semesters of ASL. One semester of Arabic. It didn’t matter if Jack stopped the swim team after three months, so long as he learned something. Hotch hadn’t cared that Jack gave up soccer after sophomore year of high school. Not even when the coaches called and begged him to make Jack keep going. Jack was good but Jack hadn’t wanted to play anymore, so he didn’t.

Jack preferred writing.

Writing out his stories when he thought himself too old for those action figures, even if he keeps the collection under his bed in a tote. Sitting for hours recounting every detail Jessica or Roy or Emily or Dave could give him about his father. Constructing a story for the man he thought without one. Until he had one. Put together slowly through the course of years and bound loosely together. As rough and uneven as his father’s skin.

The one book that remains unpublished.

The one Jack can’t bring himself to speak of. It’s not his story to tell. It’s not even his story to know. But he learned a great deal about his father. That he really can read Jack’s mind but chooses not to. How most people regard his father as this thing to look past or as something akin to a dancing flame, edging around his larger-than-life presence afraid to be burned.

It’s how Jack knows he’s dying.

Writing about people had made him something of a profile. That and growing up with a man like his father had meant a lot of silence, communicating through side-eyed glances and grunts. His partners always hate it, “don’t motion at me, just speak Jack. Tell me what you want”. But the silence is a blessing.

Emily thought it was funny that Jack had found a partner worth marrying in James, a deaf man. His father had nothing to say on the matter but it was funny, they all could see that. No one could deny that.

But with James, the silence was never questioned. It was natural to answer James with his hands, to never shatter the silence his father had taught him to treasure.

“Your father,” James signs one night, the two of them stretched out in Dave’s lawn just watching the ever-growing crowd of his family dance. “Your father is odd.” It takes Jack a long moment to understand. In the ways that Jack is bad about not answering his phone and spending far too many hours at his desk writing, James has a brutal way with words. And not in the “brutal” way that Jack’s publicist compliments him on. In a way that leaves much to be desired.

Jack brushes it off, “he’s always been odd.” But he sees it. He knows what James means.

Hotch is standing a few feet away, eyes watching Hank and the younger kids, while Dave and Emily talk on. His attention not on them at all. There’s something in his eyes, Jack can’t tell what the expression is but it’s not good. It’s a type of sullen he hasn’t seen in a very long time. Not since he was just a little boy sitting by the hospital bed, asking for his mother and hating how confused and weak his father was.

They don’t actually talk about it. When Jack gets a call from the hospital, that his father has had a procedure and can’t drive himself home, he goes without comment. Pulls up with milkshakes and takes him home. Double checks things around the house before setting himself up in the old office, and getting to work. James shows up once he’s off work, welcomed into their easy silence.

James tries to get one of them to say something. He mentions it several times, asks Jack if he’s going to force a confession or not. Jack gets another call, his father’s in the hospital with pneumonia and they needed to contact the next of kin. It’s right there. Jack’s spent his entire life pushing at his father’s for more, to tell him something and now he can’t bring himself to ask, to pry and find out.

So they don’t.

They don’t ever talk about it.

It’s dark now. The bedroom door kept shut to muffle the sounds of the others moving throughout the house. To stifle the rounds of sobs taking them all by surprise. Fine one moment and torn the next.

Jack sits softly on the side of the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. “Hey, dad.” He knows his father can’t see him well, his glasses on the nightstand, and the room too dark. He smiles when he hears his name rasped back, just the thin parting of Hotch’s lips. “James is gonna come in soon,” he promises. “He’s just giving us a minute.” He’s thirty-some years old and he realizes he never came out to his father. Just held a string of girlfriends and boyfriends until James. Of course, he’d been nervous to bring anyone home but he’d never stopped to think to warn his father who he might bring home.

“I love you.”

They’ve always said it a thousand other ways but this time it feels like too much. Too heavy. Too painful. Jack starts to cry, big heaving sobs until he can’t breathe. Consumed by his grief until he curls over himself and leans into the palm Hotch puts his cheek. Lays his head down on his father’s chest and allows himself to be held, to seek comfort like a little boy. Drawn in by thin arms and held close.

James comes in at some point.

Jacks only sort of aware of the two of them talking over him.

This is goodbye.

What had he thought he’d find at the end of this puzzle? It’s done. He put it together. He figured it out.

James folds Jack into his arms and Jack can only cry harder. Recognizes the shift is made. The way James is now the person who’s supposed to love and protect him. That his father’s role in his life has come to an end.

The mystery has died.

[starcountesseevee]

Who Needs a Suit?

"That is fantastic news!" You glanced up as you heard Willow’s excited voice, catching a glimpse of him as he spun around on his desk chair with his phone to his ear. It’s not that you were trying to listen in on Willow's conversation but your workspace was right next to the small room that was his office for the duration of this project. And his door was open, like usual. And he wasn't exactly talking quietly to whoever was on the phone, also like usual.

"Of course, of course!" He continued after a brief pause. "Yes, I will inform the team immediately. We are very honored." This caught your attention even more and you eyed him discreetly over your papers, something you had become quite good at since this project started. “You have a good day as well and thank you again!”

You quickly looked back down as Willow ended the phone call, hoping to Mythics that he didn’t see you eavesdropping. A few moments later he emerged from his office, giving you a quick smile as you glanced up again before addressing the room.

"If everyone could pause for a moment, I have an announcement!" The main lab area wasn’t large at all, but it suited the needs of the current project, and it only took a moment for the three other workers to stop their work and turn towards the professor. “I have just received a phone call from the chairman of this year’s research committee and…” Willow paused here for dramatic effect, “our project is being recognized at this year’s award dinner!”

At this the room burst into cheers, everyone congratulating each other on the good news. Once the din settled Willow explained that the invites would be sent shortly and that everyone should be proud. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged all around and the mood in the lab was certainly more exciting than it had been a few minutes prior. You were about to sit back down when Willow caught your attention.

“Oh, (Y/N)?”

You turned towards him but before you had a chance to respond Suzie - your friend, fellow lab colleague, and roommate - threw her arm around your shoulder. “Isn’t this exciting? All our hard work is finally being recognized!”

“Yes, it’s wonderful.” You agreed, looking back at Willow apologetically. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh, just...good work (Y/N).” He said with a smile before turning back to his office.

“Oooh!” Suzie teased quietly as a blush crept across your cheeks.

“Shush!” You shooed your friend away from your desk. “Don’t you have work to be doing?” It was no secret between you two that you fancied Willow and Suzie had, on more than one occasion, gotten frightfully close to disclosing that in front of the professor even after you had made it abundantly clear that if that happened you would lock her in a room with a hungry Arcanine and throw away the key. This time she did relent and went back to her work station as you returned to your desk to continue the morning’s paperwork.

A few days later the formal invitations arrived and it was like rehearing the news for the first time again. You slid the beautifully written card out of the envelope gently, flipping it over to read the details but almost immediately your stomach dropped as you spotted your name with “+ one” written in perfect calligraphy at the top of the page. A plus one was not something you had, which was fine! you reassured yourself, it just meant that everyone else would be bringing one making your lack of one stand out.

“So who are you bringing?” Suzie startled you as she took a seat on the edge of your desk. “My Jane will be so thrilled to finally get to go to one of my work events.”

“You know I don’t have anyone.” You chuckled, trying to play it off.

“You so sure about that?” She smiled coyly at you. “I know a certain profess-”

“Will you hush!” Casting a quick glance towards Willow’s office you were relieved to see he was still absorbed in the papers on his desk. “We’ve talked about that. Besides, he has his own invite. No need for me to ask him to go. Probably has his own plus one already anyway.”

“You won’t know for sure unless you ask.” Suzie gives you a knowing look that you ignore.

“Come on, he’s my boss. I can’t, it isn’t allowed.”

“Well now that this project is wrapping up maybe he won’t be! You could ask for a reassignment, then what’s your excuse?”

You were saved from answering by the loud crash of glass hitting the floor. Suzie hopped off your desk to go help clean up but not before telling you to think about it, like you hadn't already a million times. But maybe she did have a point. With the project being pretty much over maybe you would have a shot at asking him out. You looked over to where he still sat at his desk and frowned. He probably has a someone special already, you thought but Suzie's words 'you won't know till you ask' echoed in your mind. You had two weeks until the award ceremony, maybe you should just ask.

In those two weeks you found every excuse you could not to talk to Willow, your nerves getting the better of you. The closest you had gotten was first thing one morning as he settled into his office for the day but you had chickened out and just said good morning instead. It was probably for the best, you found yourself thinking, not noticing you were staring at him while he was working at his desk until he looked up and made direct eye contact. You were certain you turned as red as a Charmeleon as you quickly looked away, missing the warm smile he gave you.

The day of the event everyone was allowed to go home early to get ready and Suzie insisted on dolling you up in one of her dresses and makeup.

"If that doesn't get Willow's attention, I don't know what will." Suzie smirked, surveying her work as you blushed, fidgeting with the hem of the dress. It was a bit shorter than you were used to but after seeing yourself in the full length mirror you had to admit Suzie had done a great job.

Walking into the venue you felt a bit out of place, even though everyone was laughing and dressed up you were never quite comfortable in formal wear. You had been the first to find your table and take a seat, avoiding the small talk over cocktails, but soon enough the others slowly trickled over to join you. Checking your phone you frowned, it was only a few minutes before the ceremony was about to start and everyone had shown up except the professor. Which is odd seeing as he was in charge of this research project, you would have thought he would be the first to arrive.

Right as the lights were dimming a series of low snickers started echoing through the hall and Suzie startled you by gripping your arm and whispering 'oh my Mythics'. You turned to see Willow snaking through the tables and to your amusement, and seemingly everyone else's horror, he was still in his lab coat and work attire. Taking the last seat at your group's table he didn't seem to notice or care how out of place he looked or that everyone was staring. You couldn't help but grin, half wishing yourself that you had worn something more comfortable than a dress and heels. He caught your eye from across the table and you were thankful the lights had dimmed so he didn't see your blush as he gave you one of his charming smiles but you swear he held your gaze for just a bit longer than needed before turning his attention to the stage.

The recognition ceremony went pretty much how you would have expected, groups getting called up, speeches made. When your group was called out Willow went up for the speech and thanked everyone on the team, prompting you all to stand as the room clapped. As you glanced around at the room you caught Willow's eye again, why did he seem to be watching you directly? It was probably just your imagination though, you thought as you took your seat. Or was it?

After the last group was recognized the lights became brighter and a band appeared, it was time for the after party. You followed Suzie to the bar but soon found yourself alone as Jane whisked her off to the dancefloor. Sipping at your drink as you watched the crowds you didn't realize Willow had come up beside you until he spoke.

"I hope you're having a good time?" He startled you but you recovered quickly.

"Oh I am!" You took another sip of your drink to hopefully calm your nerves. "It's a very lovely place, although I wish I had worn something more comfortable like you did." As soon as you said it you regretted it, worry flashing across your face as you wondered if he would be offended. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with your attire! It's just that-" you stopped short as he began laughing.

“Ah yes, I must say, formal attire and I don't get along so well. I find it too constricting, besides you never know what you’ll come across in the field! That's actually the reason I was late, a trainer brought in an injured Psyduck and it took a little longer to get the little guy back up to good health than I had anticipated." Willow paused, smiling sheepishly. "It would seem I am rambling. May I get you another drink?"

"You mean another free drink from the open bar?" You teased, the few drinks you already had seemed to have loosened you up a bit.

"Ah, yes, one of those."

"Thank you but I think I'm okay for right now." You set your now empty glass on the counter as Willow rubbed the back of his neck.

"You'll have to forgive me, I don't seem to be very good at this." He laughed nervously as the song changed to something a little more slow paced. "Can I interest you in a dance instead?"

"A dance?" It comes out as more of a question as you were still wondering what he meant he wasn't good at. But Willow was watching you expectantly, holding out his hand as an offer and as if in a trance you took it. This couldn't really be happening, could it? He led you the few steps to the dance floor and your heart pounded in your chest, suddenly finding yourself unsure of how to act as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your waist.

"You look lovely by the way." Willow's words brought you back to reality as you two stepped in a slow circle to the music.

"Thank you." Was it warm in here or was it just you?

"I'm glad we got to-" Before he could continue he was cut off by Suzie's sharp voice from behind you.

"(Y/N!) There you are, oh!" Suzie's eyes widened in shock as she spotted you, or more precisely who you were with. "Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt! It's just…" She looked like she didn't want to continue, especially as you shot her a look that said this better be worth it. "It's just that Jane tripped and I think she sprained ankle, we're going to have to take her to a hospital just to be sure and I know we're your ride but…"

"What? That's terrible!" You instinctively pulled away from Willow, rushing the few steps over to Suzie as worry washed over you. Quickly realizing what you had done you spun back to Willow with an apology on your lips only to see he had followed.

"Is everything okay, do you need any assistance?"

Suzie glanced between the two of you, clearly judging her next words but concern for her girlfriend won out. "Actually I could use another set of hands getting her to the car, she can barely walk."

"Of course." Willow nodded. "Lead the way."

After the three of you had packed Jane in the car Suzie ran over to the driver's side but hesitated before getting in.

"Are you coming, (Y/N)? I know we're you're ride home but I don't want to make you wait at the hospital with us for Mythics knows how long…"

"Perhaps I can take you home?" Willow offered before you had a chance to respond.

"Perfect!" Suzie grinned, hopping into the car. "Love you girl! I'll text you with an update when we get there!" Winking at you she slammed the car door and took off, leaving you there rather baffled as to what just happened. You turned back to Willow wide eyed and mouth agape, probably looking for all the world like a Magikarp out of water.

"I...what...I'm so sorry...you shouldn't have to...I can call a cab."

"Nonsense!" He grinned. "Besides I offered. Now I'm not sure about you but I don't know that I'm up for more mingling. Unless of course, you want to-"

"No, it's fine. Getting out of these shoes sounds lovely."

Willow led the way to where his Jeep was parked, trailer and all still attached. After helping you into the passenger seat, not the easiest feat in your somewhat tight dress, he took off, following your directions back home. Since your building was on a main road and his vehicle didn't exactly fit in the parking lot around back he wound up finding a side street a few blocks away to park and absolutely insisted on walking you to your door, adamant it was the gentlemanly thing to do and he would be crushed if something happened to you.

"Thank you again, I'm sorry if this cut your night short."

"I'm actually rather pleased it did. I'm glad I got to see you outside of working hours."

"So am I." You blushed, fidgeting with your keys as you two approached the door.

"Listen, (Y/N)..." Willow started, meeting your gaze as he searched for the right words. "I've really enjoyed working with you on this project."

"I have too, I'm sad it's coming to an end."

"I must say I'm not." He must have seen the puzzled look on your face and quickly backpedaled. "I mean, I am but also not...ahh. I told you I'm not good at this." He chuckled nervously before continuing. "What I'm trying to say is that I'd like to see you outside of work again and since dating colleagues is frowned upon-"

Your mind was racing just as fast as your heart was and it only took you a moment to understand what he was trying to say. You cut him off by bringing a hand up to his cheek, a look of surprise crossing his face. "Yes, I would like that. I would like that a lot." He grinned back at you and surprised you in return by leaning in to press his lips to yours. It only took you a moment to return the kiss, sliding your hand around his neck as he circled an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He might not have been so good at flirting but you couldn't say the same about his kissing, it was just as good -if not better- than you had daydreamed. After a few moments you broke apart, touching foreheads as you both caught your breath.

"Well, great, then it's settled. Thank you (Y/N), it was a lovely night and I guess I will see you at work-" He began awkwardly, stepping back from you, but you cut him off.

"Would you like to come upstairs?" You blurted out, not quite as smooth as you had hoped for but he grinned nonetheless. You didn't wait for an answer, instead turning to open the front door. After all, you did want to get out of these shoes.

Just a little (okay not so little) idea I had after Eevee community day when Willow said he didn't have any formal attire. Hope you enjoyed! (Sorry, I just can't seem to write anything short!)

[monsterfuneral]

the vampiric pros and cons | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: One year anniversaries were always important, it was a mark of a year long commitment to one someone or something but what happens when your four someone’s seem to forget?

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, the reader has a breakdown, the boys being dumb, fluff, swearing.

Words: 3.3k

Author’s Note: I hope you like this as much as I liked writing it, thank you very much anon for the request  <3 

Idk what is giving me this 3k word juice but I really enjoy it

REQUESTS OPEN 

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

There were pros and cons of being a human. One very important con being time perception, whether it be what time you had to be at work, what year it was, or even what special occasion fell on what day. Time was something your very undead boyfriends hadn’t had to deal with in decades, while they attempted to adjust to your much more human life it did come with difficulty, which today just proves how much. With your eyes flitting from the mirror to the clock on your nightstand and back to your reflection, you couldn’t help but let out a slow sigh. They were an hour late. 

While at first you assumed at least one of them- Dwayne- would be able to keep track, that thought now seemed futile. You knew that as a vampire you didn’t have to stress over something as trivial as time management, especially since they quite literally had forever to do something. But you couldn’t deny it hurt every time you watched the clock tick by without any signs of revving engines outside your apartment complex. You couldn’t deny that it stung when they seemed to have forgotten your one year anniversary. 

Your eyes locked back onto your reflection’s, looking over your outfit for probably the thirtieth time. While you weren’t wearing some fancy ball gown and your hair wasn’t perfectly styled, it was a lot more effort you put in your everyday appearance. You had switched out your worn leather jacket for a fancier, seemingly spotless one. You even put on your best pants, not a rip in sight, along with a pair of black combat boots that looked brand new. The effort probably wasn’t worth it knowing the boys would probably be dressed in their regular clothes, which you didn’t mind, but thinking about that now it made you feel slightly ridiculous for even caring so much.

With another glance at the clock on your nightstand you felt a harsh pang in your chest, 1:21am it read in big red blocky numbers, they were supposed to pick you up at twelve. You tried to keep the tears at bay but the more you stared at the clock the blurrier the numbers got. Was it stupid to have put hope in them in the first place? Could you really blame them? You knew what you were signing up for, so why were you getting so upset?

You brought your hands up to your face and sniffled, wiping the tears away rather harshly. 

“Fuck.” More tears slipped from your eyes in retaliation and you let out a groan, realizing just what you had to do. You walked over to the chair in the corner of your room, one that served more as a laundry hamper rather than something to sit on, and plucked your bag from top of the pile searching for your keys. 

If they weren’t going to come here then you were going to come to them, and you were not happy. 

---

You white-knuckled your steering wheel the whole drive to the bluff, music playing low on your radio yet still feeling all too loud. Even though they had forgotten you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. But that was ridiculous right? You had reminded them almost every night and they had seemed to be listening, did you just not try hard enough or did they really just not care?

The tears were pooling again, blurring the lines on the road before they morphed into dirt and you were finally parked at the rickety wooden stairs leading down to the cave. You shut the car off and just sat for a few seconds trying to level your breathing. You glanced at your wristwatch and it read 1:53am, you couldn’t suppress the growl that crawled up your throat. After everything you did for them, after all the times you reminded them, they fucking forgot. 

With that in mind you threw the rusty car door open and slammed it shut, your fists clenching beside your thighs before you drew your jacket closer to shield yourself from the ocean breeze. You stomp down the creaky stairs, angrily muttering to yourself before coming up to the gate entrance and slipping inside, careful not to snag your jacket like you’ve done many times before. 

You walked through the tunnel leading towards the flickering light coming from the candles and metal barrels. It usually warms you from the inside out but in this moment all you felt was cold. There was no smile growing on your face, no hands guiding you carefully so you didn't bust your ass on the way down, no whooping vampires flying overhead. It was silent inside the cave. Nobody was here. They must have been out feeding. That thought only served to enrage you even more.

Of course they had time to remember their own needs but not yours when it was your anniversary? You hadn’t even asked for much either, all you wanted was to go down to the beach and have a cute little night-time picnic with them, a bonfire lit off to the side and all of you having a great time, that’s all you wanted. 

You couldn’t help but once again feel like you were overreacting, was it really their fault for forgetting? While they certainly weren’t perfect when it came to remembering everything, at least they tried. But what stopped them from trying this time? Stop over thinking so much. Did they still care for you or did they lose interest? You’re being ridiculous. You felt tears begin to streak down your cheeks once again, the frustration building more and more. 

When you plopped down onto the couch a small puff of dust followed, clouding around your hips as you cradled your head pathetically and cried into the palms of your hands, very certain the makeup you had put on earlier in the night had been fully cried off. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting on the couch after your last tear dropped, but it felt like hours. Your body felt vacant of all emotion, your eyes locking onto the flickering candle sat atop the fountain, it held all of your focus as it danced and swayed with the occasional breeze that would push itself inside the cave. The fluttering of wings sounded so much louder now too with it being so quiet, Marko’s pigeons flying back and forth every now and then. Your head didn’t even lift up when you heard the distant whoops of your vampiric partners. The anger was now completely washed away and was replaced with a cold nothingness, all emotions having been exhausted from your body when it had been racking with sobs. 

The fluttering of clothes sounded overhead when they finally flew inside, circling the top of the cave before finally realizing there was an unmoving figure sat upon their couch. David was the first to touch down, cold blue eyes staring at you with concern as you just continued to stare ahead at the flickering candle. His heavy steps echoed off the cave walls as he drew closer saying your name gently as if it would break you to say it louder. If you were being completely honest with yourself, it probably would have. 

David kneeled down in front of you and carefully placed a hand on your knee which you moved slowly away from. He raised a brow and looked back at the other three, Marko was chewing on his thumb nail, closely watching the scene in front of him unfold. 

“Kitten?” David’s voice was probably the softest you ever heard, his eyes locking with yours once you were finally jolted from your daze “Hey are you okay?” You almost felt guilty, he looked so worried even with how little he showed it on his face, it was in his eyes. 

“Babe what’s wrong? Did someone do somethin’ to you?” Paul chimed, stepping closer to the couch cautiously. You still didn’t speak, mind still in a thick fog. “Babe?” Paul sounded worried too and you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head up to look at him.

“I think something’s wrong guys.” Marko said from where he stood behind David. 

Paul let out a scoff “Yeah no shit, man.” You could practically hear him roll his eyes. 

Finally your mouth opened, prying your chapped lips apart and muttered a raspy “You forgot.” It felt like the littlest bits of energy were finally sinking back into your skin, allowing you to lift your head and look at your four worried boyfriends. “You forgot about our anniversary.” 

Their eyes widened almost comically after hearing you say that. A groan coming from Marko as he threw his head back, fingers knitting through his perfect curls “I told you guys there was something wrong tonight! I knew we forgot something!” Paul let out a long sigh and leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Dwayne finally got closer and kneeled himself down next to David. 

“Hey sweetheart…” He whispered, reaching out to gently take your hand in his colder one “We are so sorry. You gotta understand that we wouldn’t do this to you on purpose.” He squeezed your hand gently, looking back at the others. You knew that if you had any more tears left you would have probably started crying again. “We’re so sorry that we hurt you like this…” He brought his hand up to your chin and lifted your head up so he could look you in the eye standing up and bending over to bring his face closer to yours “Please let us make it up to you.” His hair was veiling over your face as he leaned in, almost shielding you from the outside world, his chilled lips met your cheek softly delivering the gentlest kiss you’ve probably ever received. 

“Yeah babe please let us make it up to you.” Paul practically begged. You turned your head stiffly to look at him, seeing how frantic he almost looked. 

“Would you like that?” Dwayne asked, voice soft as if he was telling you a secret. You couldn’t deny the tug on your heart when looking into his dazzling brown eyes, the desperation to earn your forgiveness all too evident. 

“Okay…” You whispered back, afraid to speak any louder.

---

The bonfire in front of you danced with the ocean breeze, a breeze that softly weaved through your hair and would have made you shiver if it wasn’t for the blanket David wordlessly wrapped around your shoulders. He sat next to you staring into the amber flames too, the yellows and oranges lighting his face up beautifully. The hollowness from your breakdown was finally beginning to melt away, a small smile creasing your lips before bitterly falling again.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered quietly, but not quietly enough as the rest of the group raised their heads and voiced their curiosity of what the hell you were apologizing for. “I was being a drama queen.” You chuckled humorlessly “You guys have told me so many times how hard it is to manage time as a vampire and I still got so worked up over something so stupid.” 

Marko was the first to shake his head and voice his opinion “Hell no, you’re not going to feel sorry for something that isn’t even your fault!” You looked at him from over the fire, his expression hardened “It’s us who should be sorry- who are sorry- not you. I’m not letting you blame yourself because you’re dating a set of dumbasses.” Paul nodded in agreement, not even trying to start some childish argument for being called a dumbass. 

“And it’s not stupid either. We’ve been together for a whole year, which is a long time to commit yourself to one person, let alone four vampires.” Dwayne chimed, soothing your remaining guilt. You gave him a grateful smile while David pulled you closer to him, arm slung around your shoulder and letting you lean against him.  

Silence had settled over the five of you again for a good ten seconds before you heard Paul yelp, making you jump. Marko had him pinned to the sand, their bodies both flailing as they wrestled. “Oh your ass is grass pipsqueak!” Paul threatened when Marko flew up into the air, Paul following closely, some sand falling back onto the ground below. David shook his head and chuckled as he watched the two rambunctious blondes play fight, growling and hissing at each other. 

“Children...” He muttered playfully smirking at you when you giggled. 

“Come on up guys!” Marko called a few feet above the fire, Paul pulling harshly on his hair making the shorter blonde let out a yelp of his own. 

“Yeah, how does it feel asshole!?” They pushed each other, flying in opposite directions before colliding again.

“Paul I will fucking dunk you in the ocean!” Marko threatened. 

David squeezed your side a little tighter “You wanna go for a ride princess?” He asked, eyes still locked on Paul and Marko. 

You felt yourself start to smile “Yeah I want some front row seats to this.” You shrugged the blanket from your shoulders and handed it to Dwayne who took it without a word. 

David gave you an encouraging squeeze before helping you stand up and kneeling down a little so you can jump onto his back. He tightened his grip on the backs of your thighs and told you to hold on tight, which you did. He slowly rose from the ground and you let out an excited giggle next to his ear, having gotten used to the heights of flying a long time ago. Marko and Paul’s petty argument got louder as you both got closer, they were punching and kicking and even clawing at each other like feral alley cats. 

“I’ll tie you to a tree and leave you there, fucking test me.” Paul seethed, you would have thought he was serious if you hadn’t known them, plus the wide smile on his face was an immediate giveaway. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah!” 

You squeezed your arms tighter around David’s neck and muttered next to his ear “I bet you ten vinyls Marko completely wastes Paul.” 

David let out a quiet snort and turned his eyes over to you “You’re on. If you lose you have to sleep over at the cave for a whole week.” You rolled your eyes at the counter before he continued “Let’s just say you won’t be getting much sleep if I win a kitten.” He winked at you and turned his head back just in time for Marko to grab a hold of Paul’s jacket harshly and began flying towards the ocean so fast you could barely see them. 

Paul screamed before hitting the water, not being able to catch himself as he was catapulted into the waves. He came to the surface with a string of colorful curses being thrown at Marko who was cackling loudly just above him, curling in on himself as he shook, looking as if he was laying down in midair. When Paul rose from the water you could practically see the steam rolling off of him as he grabbed Marko and brought him underwater. You were glad they were dead because Paul was literally forcing Marko to stay underwater while he laughed, traunting the curly haired blonde, watching as he thrashed the water around frantically. 

When Marko surfaced he let out a growl and was about to give Paul the same treatment but David calling out to them drew his attack short. “Come on boys! We don’t have time for your little drowning session, the sun’s gonna be up soon!” 

“You owe me ten records.” You pat David’s chest triumphantly and he hummed in response. 

“I guess I do.” He turned his head to the side and gave you a slow kiss, one that made your heart flutter in your chest and your cheeks heat up. 

Paul and Marko flew up slowly, Dwayne joining the four of you as well with your blanket still in his arms. The two blondes looked like wet dogs as they tried to shake the water from their hair, effectively spraying all of you with water. 

“Hey watch the jacket!” You half teased, wiping the droplets off onto David’s jacket which made him shake his head in slight annoyance. “You’ve had this jacket for years calm down.” 

---

The fly back to the cave wasn’t a long one, five minutes or less, but David knew you didn’t feel like walking all the way back and honestly neither did he. So the wind blew your hair from your face as he and the boys weaved playfully past each other, laughing and calling out into the night sky. You finally felt like yourself again, all the previous emotional exhaustion now replaced with a simmering happiness in your chest. You were still harboring a little anger at being so easily forgotten but that was a conversation for another night, right now you just wanted to enjoy yourself, flying through the sky without a care in the world before finally touching down on the cave floor next to the fountain. Most of the candles that were still lit before you all left had been blown out while you were gone. You looked around and watched as the boys all settled down, Marko lighting the barrels again and setting the torch inside to burn too. 

You settled yourself back down on the couch between Dwayne’s legs, his back against the arm of the sofa. He threw an arm over your chest and held you against him, settling a few soft kisses on your cheek. “You feeling like sleeping here tonight sweetheart?” noticing as you attempted to stifle a yawn. 

“Oh are we having a sleepover.” Paul teased with a wiggle of his brows. He leaned over the back of the sofa and tried to kiss you but a strand of his still wet hair smacked you in the face making you groan. 

“How are you still wet.” You chuckled, peeling the wet strand from your right cheek moving it behind his ear. 

“Blame it on that douchebag chihuahua.” He sent a playful glare in Marko’s direction who yelled out a defensive “Hey!” in response. 

You looked down at your watch and muttered a quiet ‘jesus christ’ at the time, 4:39am. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten, the night seemingly passing by in a haze while they were gone. 

Dwayne moved your hair over to your right shoulder “You can go ahead and sleep sweetheart.” His voice was soft in your ear, lips brushing against your neck as he kissed your neck softly. “I can take you to your nest, tuck you in and shit.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. You turned over on your side and snuggled closer to the tall vampire, your face buried in his neck.

The night may have had a much more than rocky start but in the end you were happy. You couldn’t stay mad at them, especially when they didn’t truly mean to hurt you. It was a mistake and they made up for it and will probably continue to do so for weeks. You knew what you were getting yourself into when they told you what they were, and you loved them even when the cons sometimes outweigh the pros, you were willing to go to the ends of the world for them and they were more than willing to do the same.  

---

Paul getting absolutely fucking dunked was inspired by the amazing @tweedracer​

Links to their stories here, please read them they’re amazing: 

POLY! LOST BOYS x HIPPIE VIBES READER by Tweetracer