#i was in the mood to write some angst from this time period this morning

[bnuuywol]

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Relationships: Azem/Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus (Final Fantasy XIV) Characters: Azem (Final Fantasy XIV), Emet-Selch (Final Fantasy XIV), Hythlodaeus (Final Fantasy XIV), Lahabrea (Final Fantasy XIV) Additional Tags: Angst, Named Azem (Final Fantasy XIV), The Final Days (Final Fantasy XIV), Patch 6.0: Endwalker Spoilers (Final Fantasy XIV)

Summary:

Prometheus, the current seat of Azem, finally learns of the Convocation's intentions to summon forth Zodiark by sacrificing half of their population. He cannot condone this course of action, and in losing Hythlodaeus to this fate, he will never forgive Emet-Selch.

[padfootagain]

Grey Days

Hi everyone! Here is a little Hozier oneshot for today! It’s a little sad, but mostly hurt/comfort. Did I write it after crying when I watched that interview he did where he spoke about his struggle with mental health? Yes. Obviously. I want to give him so many hugs…

I hope you like it! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of depression

Summary : Andrew is used to feel low sometimes, he has been plagued by those periods for as long as he can remember. But if he usually solves his sadness by being alone, this time, the antidote to his pain might be you.

Word Count : 2671

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

There were days like this, where everything was grey for no reason.

The sky rolling with clouds, heavy with rain, threatening with thunder, for sure wasn’t helping. But Andrew couldn’t pretend that it was at fault. Nor was the season, spring was on the horizon after all. There were boughs staining the branches, the first flowers blooming, the air a little warmer, the wind calmer than the winter storm. The birds had been chirping all morning, even if they had quietened now, under the menace of rain. He should be happy. The sun was high this morning, he had gotten some work done at Alex’s, he had had a nice lunch with his parents. Nothing but positive things, in theory.

And yet Andrew could feel his skin crawling, the tears that threatened to rise and spill, the numbness that came with spleen. Christ, melancholy was such a bitch, sometimes.

It was a bad day, the voices in his head were louder than usual. Despite the distractions he couldn’t keep them down. He kept on thinking about the pieces of songs he had recorded this morning with Alex, and on the spot they sounded good. Now, all he had left was doubt. For sure, none of it was good enough, and his lyrics were all over the place, and they didn’t do the subject justice… the didn’t do you justice…

He felt the burn in his eyes and the tightening in his throat again, his breathing grew more laboured, so he took a deep breath. He was driving, now was not the time…

And yet the thoughts were still there. As he entered his tiny town, the swirling of voices kept shouting.

Not good enough…

Don’t know how to write a proper song…

Got lucky with one song, will never be good enough again…

Imposter…

He entered his driveway, parked the car there. He didn’t notice your car until he was turning his head towards the front door.

Fuck…

He wasn’t in the mood for socialising, for pretending that everything was alright, for playing perfect boyfriend…

Another person you’ll end up disappointing…

Another thing in your life you don’t deserve…

He closed his eyes for a moment, tried to shush the voices. Just voices. It was just his busy head being louder than usual.

He just needed to calm down…

Damn, he should have called to cancel for tonight. You had a date night planned, you had told him you would come to his place early to start preparing dinner. You weren’t living together but he had a change of keys to your place, and you had one to his. He didn’t need to be home for you to come in.

Yesterday, Andrew was thinking about asking you to move in with him, to make a common home out of his large house.

She’d never say yes to you anyway…

He clenched his jaw, until his teeth gritted.

Just voices. Just voices. He was okay, he was fine…

It was just dinner, and it would be lovely. He loved you, he would have a great time…

He blinked his eyes open, brushed the wetness from his eyelashes.

Put on a brave face for her, come on…

He released some of the tension across his jaw, finally let go of the steering wheel. The soreness in his fingers made him realise how tightly he had been holding it.

He had no strength left in his body to open the car door, but he did it anyway. He was kind of used to it, the falls that followed the heights. It hadn’t happened in a long time. So bad, out of nowhere? Probably a year. Yeah, not long after the two of you started dating. It was pretty smooth after that. There were days when he didn’t feel great, but he didn’t feel terrible. With no energy left in his frame, no positive thoughts on his mind, no faith in himself, and no social battery either. Usually, when he felt like this, he simply locked himself up for a couple of days. The solitude usually helped. And now, he needed to be left alone, or at least he thought so. Besides, he would be in a terrible mood all evening, you would properly get tired of the sight and his sharp tone very quickly. And he didn’t want to take it out on you, it wasn’t fair, and he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He was too tired to be angry anyway.

He unlocked the front door, was welcomed by the smell of spices. It should have made him smile, but instead, his heart clenched.

He took off his shoes and jacket, slowly, too slowly. Any other day he would have hurried to join you.

Tonight, all he wanted was to be alone, to not talk to anyone, to get out of his clothes that felt like a burden too heavy to carry, and get under the covers, and lie there for the rest of the night, and maybe throughout tomorrow too.

Instead, he walked to his kitchen, nervously rubbing at his palms. God, he bet he looked terrible. He didn’t have a hair tie, and his hair was frizzy with the humid air, and he felt so fucking ugly when he entered the room, knowing he looked like a mess in sweatpants and an old t-shirt when you looked stunning, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…

You didn’t seem to notice, because when you saw him, you let out an excited gasp and hurried into his arms.

Why did the feeling of you in his embrace make him want to cry?

“Hi, baby! How was your day?”

He cradled the back of your head in his large hand, gently, as if you could break under his touch. He rested his lips on the top of your head, took a deep breath of your shampoo, the scent so familiar, so soothing, so reassuring…

He closed his eyes.

It lasted a couple of seconds, and then the voices were back.

One day she’ll see you can’t make her happy…

He pulled away.

“Good,” he answered elusively, forcing a smile, but he knew it was tight-lipped. “Busy.”

“Did you get some work done with Alex, then?”

“Hmm… loads.”

“Good! You must be tired then, you can sit down, I’m almost done!”

He looked at the meal you were making for the two of you. You had set up the table, had even lit up some candles. It was fucking nice, so damn romantic…

“Smells amazing,” he complimented, but you seemed to notice that there was no light left in his voice. “Gonna take a shower before joining you, okay?”

“Sure! But… you’re okay, honey?”

Honey… Honey…

“Yeah, just… tired. Long day. I won’t take long.”

You nodded, offering a smile and he did his best to give it back.

He thought the shower would help, but it didn’t. He almost let the floodgates open while the warm water numbed his muscles, made his body feel like it wasn’t there at all. He had even less strength as he walked out of the shower. But at least, now, he was wearing a shirt and black jeans, and he had tied his hair in a low bun, looking close to presentable. He was wearing his glasses, he didn’t have the energy to put some contacts on.

When he entered the kitchen again, you had poured some red wine, were humming to a tune he didn’t know, checking the cooking of your vegetables.

“Almost done! Perfect timing!” you announced with pride.

“Thank you for cooking tonight,” he let out in a breath.

He knew his shoulders were bent, he knew you had noticed the way he was trying to look as small as possible. He read it in your frown. He nervously rubbed at his collarbone, felt irritated now.

She’s doing all this for you, you can’t get mad for nothing. It’s not her fault, calm down.

He sat down, as you invited him to do so. You brought food a couple of minutes later, and he asked you about your day. But unlike any other day, it wasn’t out of genuine curiosity and fondness; he simply didn’t want to speak.

He had done a good job at playing pretend the rest of the day, but he had no energy left to keep the mask on. The cracks were all over his features, in every forced smile, in every glance, in every blinking of tears. Your food was delicious, he complimented you on it, forced himself to swallow it fully, even if he felt like he might throw up if he kept on eating.

“Andy?”

He looked up again, noticing all of a sudden that he hadn’t paid attention to the conversation in a few minutes.

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

You offered him a kind smile, reached for his hand across the table. An anchor, an intimate gesture of support.

His throat tightened, he couldn’t find his voice.

“Baby… it’s just me. Why are you all closed up all of a sudden?”

He gave you a sad smile, although he had aimed for it to be reassuring.

“Just…”

Just tired was the excuse, but then again, he didn’t feel like lying now. Didn’t have the strength for it. Maybe if he were honest now, you’d show him the voices were right, you’d realise what a loser he could be sometimes, how you should leave…

Shut! Up!

“It’s just… it’s just a bad day.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I mean… nothing in particular, I just… I don’t know… sometimes my head gets messy with thoughts for no reason. I’ve been working a lot for the past couple of months, it’s more frequent when I’m tired.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“It’s pretty bad today, right?” you asked, and he nodded.

“I’m sorry. Your meal is truly delicious, and I was really excited about having a date night. I know I’m kind of… fucking up the mood.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked with bitterness in his voice, and he clenched his jaw at the sound.

He wouldn’t let himself get angry against you. He was in love with you. So fucking much. And you didn’t deserve that.

“There’s nothing wrong with feeling down sometimes, Andy.”

He looked down at his empty plate.

“It’s a bit worse than that.”

He heaved a sigh.

“I’m fine though, it just… It just needs to pass. I’ll be back to normal in a couple of days.”

“What do you usually do when something like that happens?”

“Erm… I just… shut down, basically. Wallow in self-pity for a while,” he tried to joke, managed to get a smile out of you. “I just… lock myself up on my own until I feel really low, and then I go out, and… it lingers a few days, sometimes a few weeks, but by then I can put a mask on again.”

“Do you put that mask on with me?”

“It hadn’t been so bad in a long time.”

“And when it’s not as bad?”

He shrugged.

“There’s no need to worry you about that.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“I’m your girlfriend. I tell you when I’m unwell.”

He started rubbing at his collarbone again, until the skin turned a bright shade of red.

“I don’t particularly enjoy talking about it,” he replied, his tone dry and distant.

“But I… you know you can trust me, right? That you can talk with me about these things…”

“I know… It just doesn’t help. I know how to handle this, I’m fine. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded, but he could feel that your silence was a bad sign.

“So… usually, you just… spend time alone?”

“Yeah.”

“And it helps.”

“Yeah… yeah, it does. I just… I’m kind of introverted, in case you haven’t noticed,” he gave you a small smile. “I recharge my batteries when I’m alone.”

You seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, and then you were standing. He looked up at you in surprise.

“I should leave you alone, then.”

“Wh… what?”

“You said you needed to be alone… you should have told me, I would have let you have a moment on your own. It’s fine. I get it, if that’s what you need.”

He blinked up, not fully registering what you were doing. His brain jumped to the worst-case scenario, as per usual.

“Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

“What?! Of course, not!”

“You… you’re leaving…”

“Because you said you needed to be on your own for the evening. That’s okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You heaved a sigh, took his hand in yours.

“Andy, I’m very happy with you. I know you love me. There’s nothing wrong in needing to spend some time on your own. You should have just told me. I’ll give you some space for tonight.”

You took his face in your hands, dropped a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you, baby,” you whispered as you pulled away. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And with that you left the room. He heard you fumbling with your things in the hallway.

Being alone was what he needed. He had always longed to take a step back from everyone, even his partners, when he felt like this.

Except that tonight he didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to hold you as tightly as he could, and cuddle in bed, and just forget about the world outside your arms, let you hold him until he couldn’t have a single thought anymore…

He jumped to his feet, rushing across the house as you put on your coat.

“Don’t go.”

The plea cut the air like a knife.

He blinked tears away.

“Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to go,” he confessed.

“But you said…”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I won’t be mad if you want to take the night for yourself.”

“Y/N. I don’t. Want you. To go.”

He struggled to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“Please… please, don’t leave.”

You stared at him for a moment, motionless. But then you put your coat back on its hanger, took off your shoes.

When you walked back to him, he almost started to cry.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes… please…”

Before you could say anything else, he was holding you in a tight embrace, one that you quickly reciprocated.

“What do you want us to do, then?” you asked, rubbing his back, and for the first time that day, he felt his muscles relax.

“Honestly… I just want to go to bed, cuddle with you and not move until… the end of the month.”

You laughed, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.

“Well, we’ll have to get up before that I’m afraid… but cuddling for the rest of the evening sounds nice.”

He heaved a relieved sigh.

“I’m sorry, I’m fucking up our date night… it was so lovely of you to cook and everything…”

“It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.”

“Good… that’s grand…”

He finally pulled away, took your hand to guide you to his bedroom. The dishes would have to wait for tomorrow.

He got ready for bed first, and then waited for you. And while he was looking at you as you moved around the bed, plugging in your phone, setting up an alarm for the morning, drinking some water… all he wanted was to hold you close. You were the first person who made him feel that way. Who made him long for companionship even when he felt so low…

… and then, you were in bed, opening your arms for him to settle in your embrace, letting him bury his face in the crook of your neck.

Perhaps this one time, his busy brain was wrong. Perhaps you wouldn’t leave. Perhaps he would stay. And maybe, just this one time, not all things would end…

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Phantom pain

Summary; Price said he would be back before Christmas, but you didn't think it would be like this.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 9k

Warnings; angst, injury, copious amount of fluff

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: Surprise update everyone! I've been feeling so festive this year, there's so much snow and everything's just so cosy, so this chapter comes as a little hurt to feel-good thing on the third of advent. If you don't celebrate Christmas or don't like the festive period, I simply hope that you have a great December nonetheless🥰

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

It had been a slow morning. Despite snow greeting you on the ground and in the air, you'd felt warm huddled in your jacket and the thought of cosying into one of the plush armchairs at your coffee shop. It had been serene; not many ventured outside in this weather. Yet, you'd smiled behind the lapel of your jacket when something other than cloudy skies and rain doused everything in a hue of grey.

You'd been in such a good mood that when you returned home with some pastries to go, saffron and caramel the main components in the golden danishes and tarts, you started a deep cleaning of your flat.

With the least Christmasy of Christmas songs playing from your speakers, you put up some festive lights, the warm glow softening every hard edge.

Although, while you're balancing on your stool, using some double-sided sticky tape to fasten a string of light behind your curtains, the music from your speakers is cut off by your phone ringing. You didn't think twice about heading to your phone, believing it was Marissa or one of your other friends. Yet, you stall when spotting the caller I.D. lighting up your screen.

Two weeks. John said his deployment would last two weeks. Of course, you would've been happy if he returned home earlier on any other occasion. But something made your stomach twist and your brows furrow when John now was calling less than a week and a half after he left.

"John?" You ask tentatively after answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Sorry, lass, probably not the John ya wanted". Your heart fucking drops, your face falling in record time when it's a Scottish accent and not the easily recognisable British variant greeting you.

"J-Johnny?" Your voice breaks halfway through, unable not to. Even tears managed to well in the short seconds you realise what this call might be.

"Hey, easy, Price is alive and kickin'-"

"Oh god", you choke out the words, dropping to the couch behind you as you'd remained standing since you answered, for some reason. The tears that collected in the corner of your eyes trail down your cheeks upon your eyes shutting, more so from the sudden burst of relief than the fear that brought them.

"Fuck, you scared me, Johnny".

"Should've started with that", he excuses with a slight, strained chuckle before he clears his throat. "But... still callin' for a reason".

"Yeah, gathered that much", you return, wiping away your tears with your shirt sleeve.

"Captain got downed durin' the mission, nasty shot in the shoulder".

"What?" Your motion stills when you register what Johnny said, gaze falling to stare at the call-time ticking away tauntingly slow.

"Last time I saw him, he was in the infirmary and had just returned from a quick surgery".

"But is he alright?" You bring your phone closer to your face as if it somehow would make Johnny feel how you pressed for an answer.

"Huffin' and groanin' 'bout it but fine otherwise. He wanted me to call ya, knowin' the pain-meds he was forced to take wouldn't help him give good 'nough explanation of things".

"Okay, okay", you mumble. He's alive. Hurt but alive.

"He'll need to stay a while. But ya can come to see him if ya want".

"I can?"

"'Course, we'll be able to get ya a visitin' pass".

"Oh, thank you, Johnny", you breathe out.

"Nothin' to thank, lass. Can't stand the Captain's grousin' anymore". You chuckle half-heartedly at that. "I'll send you the details 'bout the visit and some information that's needed".

"Yes, yes, absolutely". You nodded along even if the Scot couldn't see the motion. "Send it over, and I'll fill out whatever's needed".

You don't know how much of a shit show things had turned into for them to return home early. Although, it must have been bad if not only John didn't go unharmed from it, but even Johnny seemed to have seen better days. 

It was hard not to notice his roughened-up look when he met you by the army base's outer perimeter about two hours later. There were a few cuts and bruises littering his face, and even though the Scot didn't hesitate to bring you into a comforting hug as you jumped out of your car, you noted the slight wince he waved off as a 'bruised everything'.

Even if you'd been shaken after ending the call with Johnny, you attempted to calm down, telling yourself 'John's fine' before leaving your flat. Yet, those nerves flared right up when you entered the small visitors' centre beside the road. Thankfully, the very man who'd given you the news of John seemed to notice that the military surroundings were vastly unfamiliar and unnerving for someone not used to them, especially considering why you were here.

Johnny kept close the entire time, helping you with the needed papers for the visitor's pass by pointing to where your signature was required, even if he talked familiarly with the armed guards all the while.

You took deep breaths to steady yourself numerous times, feeling the Scot's attention fall on you each time he noted the same unease he previously only caught over the phone. You knew you weren't succeeding in hiding your nerves. Nevertheless, between being in a strongly off-limits zone for usual civilians and the fact you wouldn't be here if John wasn't in a hospital bed, you don't think Johnny or any of the other soldiers blamed you for it.

When everything was finally signed and read through, Johnny scribbled his signature on the dotted line beside yours on the last page.

With the I.D. around your neck, you exited the smaller building and jumped into your car again, only now the Scot hitched a ride back with you.

Your fingers rapped against the steering wheel once you were let through the gates and rolled forwards, teeth worrying your lower lip, eyes trained on the main compound further ahead.

"Lass", your eyes had swiftly adverted to Johnny, noticing his eyes shifting to your hands. You stopped with a tight lipped smile, your gaze having adverted forward again. "Price is roughened up but fine. He's been through much worse".

"I know", you sighed, having to hold yourself from going back to biting your lip. You'd seen John's scars, some on worryingly critical places on his abdomen. "But I haven't been there to see that...", you mumbled, eyes fixed on the parking lot ahead.

You and Soap didn't share much chatter as you parked, nor more than needed as he guided you through the building closest to the parking lot. However, he offered a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder when he saw you hesitate in the elevator upon reaching the medical wing. 

A327. That was the room John apparently was in. 

You looked at each door you passed, waiting for the right one. 

324. 325. 326. 

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you finally reached 327.

With hands intertwining hands, fingers wringing each other, you merely stand rooted before the door. All of a sudden hesitant to step inside.

"He's gonna be fine, lass". Johnny's comment makes you look up at him. A gentler smile than usual meets you, causing you to release the breath you didn't know you held as you nod. "Let's get ya to meet him". The Scot gives you an encouraging smile as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter.

John's already facing your way when you step into the room that nearly shines white and beige. But your gaze only briefly meets his before it drops, flittering over his form. 

He rests beneath multiple blankets that reach his stomach, his upper body clad in a soft white t-shirt that doesn't look like his own. Your jaw clenches when you spot his arm in a sling, stabilising it against his chest. As your eyes trail further upwards, a distressed sound bubbles up in your throat upon spotting the bandages peeking from beneath the left sleeve.

"John-", you don't manage to say anything more before you stutter to a stop, chest heaving on a sharp inhale.

"C'mere, love", his voice is hoarse, strained, barely more than a grating sound, but you move forward as on command.

You can't help how your mouth purses at how tired he looks, the hint of pain in his eyes so evident when you stop beside the bed.

"M'fine", John raises the arm of his healthy side, even so, he winces, eyes shutting tightly for a brief moment before they open again.

"Don't lie, I see that you're not", you murmur as you take hold of the hand that tried to reach your face, allowing his upper arm to drop and rest along the bed, instead meeting him halfway by bending down to kiss his knuckles.

John exhales deeply, eyelids fluttering close, the crease between his brows never smoothening. God, it hurts to see him like this. 

You step closer, the side of the bed pressing into your thigh, planting a kiss at the very centre of the furrow. When you look down at John again, his features have softened, but his eyes still have a troubled look when that blue gaze meets yours.

"I'll leave ya two to it". You look over your shoulder, sending Johnny a look of gratitude.

"Thank you, Soap", John says. The Scot only nods in return, giving you a last look before he exits.

Once you're alone with John, you exhale almost painfully before gazing down at him. 

"You don't know how scared I got when Johnny called", you admit. This time, John pulls your hand rather than face towards him, tipping his head forward to plant a firm kiss against your knuckles. "Thought-"

"Sit down, love". Upon catching your distress, John pats the side of his bed with a gentle voice. Although his attempt does little to ease your nerves, seeing how the slight move of his legs sideways to give you space only makes his features twist.

"Not a chance", you protest with a shake of your head, fearful of accidentally hurting him more. Instead, you glance around the room, finding a pair of chairs along the wall.

John doesn't hold you back as you release him and move towards them, but you guess it's more because he can't then don't want to. 

You pull the chair along and put it as close to the hospital bed as possible, not hesitating to lean over the low metal railing at the side to hold John's hand again after sitting down, your other hand settling on his forearm, rubbing soothing motions. 

You gaze up at the blue-eyed man, those pretty eyes of his duller than usual, exhaustion shining in its own faded might. His brown hair is one of the few darker accents in the room; the screen of the heartbeat monitor is the other source. Yet, it's matted, fallen to its own will against his forehead rather than styled into something casual by his fingers running through it and pushing it backwards. 

Leaning forwards, your card your hand through John's hair, not nearly correcting it to how he usually does, but better nonetheless. 

Your gaze flitters to meet his when you settle back in your seat, noting the smile adorning his lips. 

"Happy to see you again, love". Not daring to test your voice, you kiss his knuckles in return. This time, you're positioned low enough that John's hand goes to cup your face when you lean away again, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "Even if it could've been under better circumstances".

You don't notice it until John's thumb paints a streak of wetness over your skin, but he redirects a stray tear rather than letting it follow its natural path.

"You're here. That's what matters". You squeeze John's wrist, leaning away to wipe your cheeks yourself, offering him a smile with a breathed chuckle.

"Was never not close to return". John wraps his hand over yours, letting them drop to the bed as he reflects your smile. "Shoddy shot whoever they were, used a handgun in close combat and still missed the brachial artery and brachial plexus", John releases one of those huff-chuckles of his. You shake your head, having no idea what difference it would make if whoever shot him hadn't missed those points, only that it probably would've been a lot worse.

"What- what went wrong?" Your gaze flickers to his injured side.

A heaved sigh escapes him before he speaks.

"Mission was bumpy from the start but went fine". You knew he let confidential details out, but you didn’t want to know anything apart from what happened to him. "Needed to wait out exfil in an abandoned buildin'. Remained remarkably silent until we got the call to move to the pick-up point. Got ambushed, absolute shitshow". He shakes his head with a grunt.

"How's the others?" You'd seen two of the four men, though Ghost and Kyle's absence suddenly irked you upon hearing what John told you.

"Bruised but none too badly". John ran his thumb over your hand. A low, partly amused, partly exasperated huff escaped him as he continued. "My turn to take the brunt for the team, it seemed".

Even if you could've wished for a better outcome for John, at least none of the others had gotten off worse. 

You suck your lower lip between your teeth as you really try to take in his state, trying, only try again to find your words. Seeing John like this almost feels wrong. 

You'd witnessed his soft side, but this wasn't soft. This is hurt. He wasn't sluggish as when you managed to keep him in bed rather than rise with the birds on the occasional weekend. This was exhaustion, one he tried to hide, but the lines on his face exposed nonetheless. 

Barely anything could've pulled your attention from John as you tried to find your words, any consolidation that wouldn't sound like pity. And yet, when a knock sounded from the door, soon after swinging open, both your and John's eyes are pulled to the entrance.

When you spit the woman striding into the room, your brows jump up.

"Kate? Didn't think you would be here". Upon noticing you sitting by John's side, the American woman stalled, the computer beneath her arm pulled in front of her.

"I was involved in the mission the boys went on". She juts her chin towards the man at your side. "Mind if I speak to him?" Her tone wasn't stern, nothing hinting at malice or desire to break you and John up. Still, it didn't really sound like she asked.

You looked from Kate to John, not really stunned compared to feeling how a bubble unexpectedly broke. "Oh, yes, of course, I'll wait outside". 

Considering how neither stopped you as you stood, John only squeezing your hand before letting go, you took it as an affirmation this wasn't a conversation you had any clearance to be present for and that one way or another would've happened either way.

Even so, Kate offers you a kind smile as you pass her on the way out. Yet, you note the blonde woman's features looked tighter than on the night of the party, without a doubt due to the predicament making John end up in a hospital bed.

When the door falls shut behind you, you lean against the wall just to the left of the entrance. It's silent to a degree you would guess the room John's in is semi, if not entirely, sound-proofed. Considering it isn't an emergency wing, you wouldn't disregard the possibility.

You sigh, eyes falling close. What a fucking day.

You don't know how long you stand like that, but you're only dragged out from whatever trance you entered once you catch the elevator stopping on your floor and the steps coming closer soon after. Considering you'd anticipated a nurse or the like, your brows rise when the pristinely white surroundings suddenly stand in stark contrast to the person dressed in dark army clothing.

"Heard from Soap you would be around". You smile as you push off the wall, meeting Kyle as he closes the distance between you. "How are you holding up?" The question brushes past your shoulder as he brings you in for a hug before keeping you within arm's distance, studying what must be your tired features.

"As good as can be". You smile in return. The young Brit rubs your upper arms reassuringly as he nods, seeming content with your answer as his arms drop to his sides. "You here to visit John?"

"I was, got some gaps in my schedule", Kyle confirms before cocking his head. "But I guess I'll have to wait, considering you're not there with him".

”Kate is paying him a visit”. He looks at the door with a furrowed brow before his attention tracks back to you and it smoothens. ”If you wanna greet him, maybe you have enough authority to”. Kyle only shakes his head. 

”If Laswell wanted to talk to him first, there’s a reason. The rest of us will know in due time. Hopefully, he ain't such a grouse by then”. He shrugs, and you can't stop your laugh. This time, it's not half-hearted nor forced.

"All of you laying it on thick about how grumpy he is".

"He isn't such a charmer when things don't go his way and he isn't surrounded by pretty faces". You swat Kyle on the arm as he sends you a look. "Only telling you the truth, not all of us get special treatment".

"Yeah, yeah, alright", he nudges your shoulder with his knuckles before stepping backwards.

"Send the Cap'n my regards, have to be on my way".

"Will do. Have a good day, Kyle". He gives you a nod of goodbye in return as he turns on his heel, heading back to the elevator he came from a few minutes ago. You offer him a last wave before the door closes.

Alone again, you look at the clock on the wall. But, considering you have no recollection of when you exited the room, you can't tell how much time has passed since Kate arrived, only guessing it must be at least a dozen. 

You scan the corridor, finding sporadic rows of chairs along the wall, similar to the ones in John's room. Not knowing how long John and Kate's unofficial meeting would continue, you move to one of the seats across from where you'd stood, fishing up your phone to make time pass faster as you sit down.

Taking note this time, you know another ten minutes have passed before the door opposite you opens and pulls your eyes from your screen.

You slip your phone into your pocket as you push up from the seat and head towards Kate, Even though she’s keeping the door open with one hand on the handle, you barely catch the end of John's sentence before it ends.

Just as you reach her side, Kate's attention trails from John to you, giving you space to enter by stepping out of the room. Flashing her a brief smile, you move forward but suddenly gets halted when her hand slips around your upper arm.

"It's good to see the Captain's got someone with him", her voice is lowered, only for you to catch.

Your lips tug upwards in a genuine smile. Without really knowing how to answer that, you offer Kate a nod and a small 'thank you' in return.

The smile she reciprocates with is much less strained this time around. "Take care of him now".

"I will". And with that, she nods goodbye, heading down the hallway while you re-enter the room. 

"Spoke with Kyle". You begin while closing the door behind you. "He says hello". You forward his message to avoid forgetting. 

When your eyes fall upon John, whom you barely catch an answer from, at least not more than a hum, you notice how he's sunken deeper into the bed.

"You tired?" You retake your place in the armchair as he hums again. As John scoots closer to your side and stretches his hand towards you, you settle your elbow on the bed and intertwine your hands again.

"Laswell was worried, wanted to check in and inform me some things that needed finishin' could wait". The pauses between his words were prolonged, and the pronunciation drawled as he briefed you on his conversation with Kate. "Should finish them, though", he grunted, trying to sit up straight against the pillows, but you settled a hand on his stomach.

"You need to rest, John. If Kate said things could wait, trust her". He stilled, looking back at you with slow, almost drowsy blinks.

"Fine", he agreed, settling into the bed again.

 As he sighed, eyes fluttering close, you felt something bleed from your body, making your upper body relax forwards, head settling on the verge between John’s hip and his lower stomach. Feeling the weight, his eyes flutter open, head tilting forward as he gazes at you. 

"Mm, talk to me, love, what you've been up to".

"Not much, really. I worked and met up with some friends. Oh, Marissa and I went on a little investment spree for Christmas".

"Investment?" John humours in a low voice, the twitch in his mouth unable to pull his lips into a complete smile compared to only tilting the edges upwards.

"If they're going to be reused yearly, that's an investment". He chuckles deeply, and you release a chuckle of your own.

You continue talking about what you've done in the week and a half you've been apart. Some Christmas baking, putting up decorations as of today, noting how most things out of the ordinary related to the holiday season. 

Gradually, you notice how John's eyes fall close. Even so, he's still invested in the conversation with few-worded responses. But even those soon become nods and hums when his hand relaxes in yours. As you move to gently trail your fingers up and down his forearm, all while continuing to talk, the soothing motions make him heave a sigh. 

Soon enough, the only sounds he lets out are the breaths escaping his parted lips, his softened breathing followed by the rhythmic movement of his chest. 

You trail off in your sentence with a small smile, watching John's sleeping features. No furrow pulls his brows together, no involuntary twinge in his features letting on his pain. He looks at ease, and it finally settles your nerves as well. 

In stark contrast to how you notice John's consciousness slipping, you don't detect yours slowly doing the same. 

Your movements up and down his skin slowly grow shorter, from trailing between his wrist to the crook in his arm to only rubbing the spot your hand eventually stills on. The tension in your neck releases from the claws of whatever emotions had built throughout the tumultuous day, your head feeling heavier as it rests against his stomach. There's a fine line between when your blinking turns from slow to prolonged, even slimmer to when you can pinpoint your last conscious thought.

You're not the first to wake up. John's the one who stirs when a knock sounds from the door.

If not for the pain in his shoulder, despite being suppressed, he wouldn't blink his eyes so blearily and feel his mind sluggishly awake compared to what's expected of someone like him. Even so, his senses are sharper than yours as he notes your form slumped over the bed and your head resting on him, serene features remaining much like your steady breaths bleeding through the blankets.

His eyes trails to the door, releasing a low sound that must have sounded like a grunt to whoever was on the other side, but he couldn't care. The door swings open, Soap stepping through it much like he'd done a few hours earlier, but then with you by his side. 

Now, the Sctosman closes the door behind him gently upon noting your sleeping form before his attention settles on John.

As Soap steps further into the room, John's eyes flit down to your sleeping form before rising again. With a swift look at the clock, he knows what the Sergeant is probably here for. He softly settles his hand upon your head.

You don’t remember falling asleep, only that John did, so when you’re roused from a dreamless nap by a hand cradling your scalp, you feel groggy when sitting up straight all too suddenly. 

You blink repeatedly as your vision focuses again, finding John looking at you, his hand sliding down to the back of your head and down your arm.

"Sleep well?"

"Mhm". You roll your head, twitching at the twinge in your neck from your not-so-ergonomic sleeping position.

"Not the comfiest spot for ya". The Scottish accent catches you off-guard, as last you checked, only you and John were in the room.

You turn around, spotting the very Scot who'd spoken. "Oh, hi, Johnny".

"Hey, lass", he chuckles in return. "Just came ’bout to inform ya there’s a room waitin' if ya want to stay the night". 

Your brows lift, eyes shifting to John, who's already watching you. "You don’t need to. I’ll be holed up here either way".

"It will just be less travel tomorrow", you shrug, turning back to Soap as you confirm you'll stay.

"Come on then, lass, visitin' hours are over soon". He opened the door slightly as he spoke, showing you he would guide you to your room for the night. You nodded, shifting out of your seat to stand, not without looking down at John.

"Go, get some proper sleep", he nudges your hip. You give him a brief smile before bending down, pressing your lips against his. They're chapped, but their plush warmth is soft. As you part from him, you mumble a 'goodnight' against him, an equally low 'goodnight, love' murmured against your lips, warming you further before you pull away.

You place the chair back where it's meant before fetching your things from beside the bed and offer John a last parting smile and a 'see you tomorrow'.

Just before you pass through the door, you look back at John, offering him a small wave, one he answers with a warm smile.

"You really turn the Captain into a love-sick man", Johnny's comment comes seconds after the door closes. You turn to him, seeing the amused look he sends you.

"Oh, shut up". You swat Johnny's arm, making him bark out a chuckle.

"Ain't nothin' bad, lass", he mused, nudging you back with his elbow.

The Scotsman lead you to another part of the compound, a freestanding building just across the one you exited, at the other side of the parking lot. 

It had begun snowing. Fat constellations of powdery white fall through the air as you trudge through what's already covering the ground. You flick up the lapel of your coat, burrowing your nose in the fabric as you protect your eyes from the snowflakes desiring to stick to your lashes. 

When you entere the building you'd been heading toward, the warmth inside was a welcoming change, and you shrug away the snow that had yet to melt into the dark fabric enveloping you. 

This time around, there was no need to sign papers as upon your arrival, Johnny simply led you straight to the room appointed for you, handing you the key when stopping outside the door. As you entered, you were surprised, not knowing what you'd anticipated, but certainly not a space similar to a hotel room.

A low whistle pulls your eyes to Johnny. "Aye, not bad", his eyes rove over the room before settling on you.

"Much better than I thought", you agree, stepping inside, shrugging the bag off your shoulder, and simply putting it on the floor.

"Didn't think we would put ya in the barracks, did ya?"

"Never experienced military hospitality before, but didn't expect much", you shrug, smiling in return as you turn to face him.

He shakes his head. "That's the thanks", he quips, yet his grin deceives him. "I'll see ya in the mornin', lass".

"Johnny!" He halts in the step he'd begun to take, watching you with raised brows. "Just, thank you for... everything today". His fingers rap against the door handle as he shifts the weight on his feet.

"Knew it probably would be tough for ya and that Price probably hadn’t even thought ‘bout having ya visit here yet. S’jus' wanted to make it as smooth as possible for the both of ya. Know he would've done the same for the rest of us", he shrugs with a gentle smile. Johnny's consideration warming your heart.

"Thank you, really".

The side of his mouth bows upwards. "Ya are welcome". And with that, he closes the door.

***

When you wake up in an unfamiliar room, remembering where you are takes a few seconds. Then it comes rushing back as you see the visiting pass on the bedside table. Johnny’s phone call. John’s injury. The military base. 

You sit up with a jawn, peeking out the room's sole window.

It’s utterly white outside, with no cloud in the sky as the sun just about peeks over the horizon, suggesting today will be considerably colder than yesterday.

Slipping from bed, you’re quick to dress yourself. The t-shirt you slept in gets stuffed into your handbag as you only shrug on the hoodie from yesterday, slipping into your pants not soon after.

You move to the bathroom, lamenting the lack of anything to freshen up. Even so, you splash your face with water, trying to tame your hair before sighing heavily, simply fetching the hair-tie you’d remembered to take off your wrist before bed. 

Moving around the room, you remember the package of gum you’d thrown into your bag a few days ago, hoping you hadn’t chewed through the whole package when it would ease your mind about morning breath.

You rummage through your bag, cursing what yesterday didn't feel like a lot of stuff, but now does as you search for what you need. 

A swift two-rap knock echoes from the door just as a triumphant sound escapes you when you spot the silvery package. Popping a gum into your mouth, you move towards the entrance, not surprised to find Johnny on the other side as you swing it open.

”Good morning”. 

Johnny cocks his head as you smile at him before he splits into his own grin. ”Ya seem cheery this mornin’.”

”Seeing that John’s doing good helped me sleep better”, you shrug, catching a hum from him as you turn around to collect your stuff around the room. ”And then the bed was surprisingly good”.

”These ones are heaven in comparison to those in the barracks”.

”Yeah?” You turn towards the Scot standing with his hands behind his back, waiting at the doorstep.

“Aye, happy to not be rookie anymore”.

”Understandable”, you chuckle as you and Johnny step out into the hallway before tracking the same path you’d done yesterday. You could’ve done it yourself but had an inkling that you couldn’t move freely on the base.

”So you’re my guide while I’m here?” Blue eyes flicker down to you as he lets you pass out the door to the courtyard first.

It’s indeed colder today than yesterday, the chill biting your cheeks.

”Aye. Concernin’ Price was bed-bound; I needed to sign those papers in his stead”.

”And you don’t have better things to do?” 

”L.T. gave me five minutes to spare”.

”From what?” The snow crunches beneath your shoes.

”Whatever drill he set up to run us into the ground”. You let out a surprised laugh at that, making the Scot grin. ”Yaself then, lass, goin’ to keep an eye out on the Captain for us when he leaves?”

Your eyes widen, switching to look at Johnny once evading an ice-spot as you cross the parking lot. ”He’s cleared to go home?” 

”Haven't got any confirmation on it. But he's got no vital injury and has stayed close to two days, so it’s probable he’ll get to go home”, he shrugs.

The warmth rushes against your face as you enter the main building, much like yesterday, taking a right towards the medical wing.

”Feel like I’ll need to. Otherwise, he’ll stress the injury”.

”Wouldn’t be the first time any of us did that”. Johnny rubbed his neck as you raised your brows at him. He positioned himself opposite you as you stepped into the elevator, giving you a sheepish shrug. ”Comes with the job sometimes despite medical leaves”, the Scot excused the habit, only making you roll your eyes with a disbelieving huff.

”Then I’ll definitely have to ensure he takes it easy”. The doors close, and the elevator smoothly rises.

”Price won’t be able to say no to ya, never has since he met ya”. When your head dips into a shake this time, a smile adorns your lips that you try to hide. Even so, the Scot slung his arm around your shoulders with a laugh as you exited the elevator upon its chime and the doors opening.

The walk to John’s room seems much shorter than yesterday, without a doubt, because you know of his stable state. So when Johnny drops his arms from your shoulders, it’s not with bathed breath you open the door. 

Unlike yesterday, your eyes don’t lock with John’s the second you enter the room designated to him. His gaze remains cast downwards on the tablet in his lap, even if his head tilts your way to show he noted someone had entered. Not until the Scot behind you offers a ’Mornin’ Captain’ does the man in the bed look up.

”What was that about makin’ him take it easy?” Johnny chuckles lowly, making you send him a look before he departs with a mock salute. You only shake your head at the man before entering the room.

”Aren’t you meant to take it easy?” You watch John with a raised brow, catching how the door slides close behind you while you slip out of your coat. 

”I am”.

”Let me rephrase”, you chide him with a smile. ”Shouldn’t you relax, no work?” You move to the side of his bed with one of the chairs dragged along behind you.

”I-

”Don’t say that you are John. I know that look on your face”, you remark with a finger towards the easing purse of his lips and the furrow between his brows that’s not brought on entirely by pain like yesterday.

He sighs heavily, a locking sound coming from the tablet as he drops it screen-down in his lap. ”You’re right”.

 ”I know I am”. John releases a huff of laughter through his nose at your comment, softening your smile. ”Did you sleep well?”

He hums. ”Woke a few times ’cause of this-”. He jerked his head to his shoulder. ”Bed probably goin’ to set off my back”, he scoffed in annoyance at having to deal with the twinge in the lower part of his spine that you’d learnt most often came and went more frequently after he returned from a deployment or a bad mattress. 

You hum, leaning forward to card your fingers through his hair that had fallen across his forehead after his previous jerky movement. While you do, you catch John returning the question, but your answer is an undeveloped ’good’, all your attention upon the locks your fingers card through.

His hair feels matted, and when your eyes briefly flicker over his face, you note his beard is untamed, not grizzly, but it’s lost the shine it usually always has.

”When was the last time you showered?”

”That's your way of tellin’ me I smell?” Your nose scrunches, hand falling to rest on the metal railing as your gaze locks with John’s amused one.

”No, at least that wasn’t what I was getting at”. 

A chuckle precedes the more serious answer you get. ”About a week ago at the last safe-house, haven’t been able to have one after returnin’. Can’t wet the bandages”. You purse your lips, gaze momentarily switching to his shoulder before trailing back.

”How long before you can take them off?”

”The Doc visited before you came around and said I’m clear to leave, but the bandages needed to stay on until tomorrow”.

You nod. ”Johnny betted you would be able to go home today”.

”We know how these thing goes. Instructions about wound care, then sent off on med-leave before even attempting to come back and get shot at again”.

”Jesus, John”, you let out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking your head. When you raise it again, there’s a slight tug in the corner of his mouth and a knowing, truthful, look in his eyes. "Better we get you home and start the arduous wait, then." You offered him a smile and a raise of your brows, silently wondering if he was ready to pack up.

"Can't wait".

It wasn't a hassle to get John out of bed. He groaned and gruffed to himself as he pushed himself upright with your hand steadying him on his back, but that was about it. As he rose from the bed, you helped him into his boots and gently slung the jacket draped over his duffel-bag on the other side of his bed. 

You'd sent him a look when he'd noted you of the bag's presence, remembering it wasn't there yesterday, to which he only explained Kyle got around and dropped off his things just after the Doctor had visited.

Although standard issued and didn't seem too heavy once you made the proposition to carry it instead of him, you cursed in disbelief when slinging it over your shoulder, not anticipating its weight. It had given John a good laugh before offering to take it regardless. However, you remained stubborn, motioning for him to take the lead out of the room with a 'you don't know how heavy our purses can be sometimes'.

But you don't enjoy a second of it as you trudge through the building; you more than John slowing the tempo. He catches you grumbling under your breath numerous times about what he's got in there, falling back to walk beside you once you reach the parking lot, mentioning he doesn’t desire looking back and find you toppled over in a heap of snow. He'd gotten another glare upon that comment.

You'd thought the drive home to John's would've been less arduous, but you'd found yourself unable to relax just as much, but for entirely different reasons.

With each turn of the car, you noticed how John braced his feet against the floor so as not to move in his seat, his free hand slipping beneath the seat belt to keep it from digging into his injury at times.

The way he acted made you all the more cautious in your driving, even picking routes that had more straight for his sake. You knew John noticed when you didn't take the usual right about halfway through the drive by the glance in your direction.

By the time you pulled into his driveway, the sky had darkened, and snow had started falling, making your and John's retreat into the house from the car hasty. Nonetheless, he managed to escape the weather that was worsening by the second much quicker compared to you as you fetched his bag from the booth.

You don't take more than a few steps into the foyer before you slip John's bag to the floor. When the pressure of the straps disappears, you sigh in relief.

John's chuckle makes you send him a glare. However, it melts away when your gaze finds the absolute disarray of his hair, now a combination of dirty and wet from the snow.

"Come one, I'll help you freshen up". You say, closing the door behind you, shielding you from the chilling cold.

"No need, love". You send him a look over your shoulder as you take off your coat, finding John stepping out of his barely laced boots.

"Why? You always have a shower when you get home?"

"If you have forgotten, can't get this wet for a day more". John nods to his shoulder as he faces you. "Can just wait 'till tomorrow".

Your brows furrow, and your hand falls to your hip while hanging up your coat. "John, I know how religious you are about your routine once you come home. There is no need to skip it just because you can't do it yourself when I simply can help".

You see his resolve falter somewhat as he regards you. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all", you shake your head. "Wouldn't mind a hot shower to warm up in this cold house of yours". A smile tugs in the corner of your lip when you end the sentence with an exaggerated wink.

It makes John chuckle as he shakes his head before those blue eyes rise to follow you when you approach. "Don't think I could supply that need now".

"Out of us two, I'm the one who can go a bit without being dicked-down". You kiss John's cheek as you slide the jacket from his shoulder, catching the harsh sigh as you wander to hang up his piece of clothing beside yours.

"That a challenge?" He hums as his un-injured arm sneaks around your waist as you finish your task, gently turning you around to pull you towards him. "Besides, I got other ways to satisfy you". 

"Oh, I know". You give John a softer look as your hand slides down his forearm before gripping his hand, moving it to hang beside your bodies. "But let's listen to the doctor for now and let you heal up first". You offer him a smile as you back away and head into the house, John letting himself be led by you as you steer towards the stairs.

Not until you've reached his bedroom do you let go of his hand, ushering him to the bathroom as you move to his dresser. You swiftly dig through it for a new pair of pants, opting not to bring a shirt, believing neither of you could bother the hassle of attempting to put it on.

"Strip", you wave your finger towards John as you step over the threshold to join him in the en suite.

"Thought Doc's orders applied". You catch the smugness in his voice, sending him a humoured look, one he answers with a wink as he moves to sit down on the lid of the toilet. While John rid himself of the pants he'd gotten from the hospital, you place his own pair on the sink. 

While he kicks them aside, your attention falls on the white shirt still covering his upper body. A furrow enters your brows, lips pursing. It would be challenge to take it off even if you helped him, being an uncomfortable and possibly painful process no doubt.

"Just cut it off". Your eyes meet John's, checking if you heard him right. With his head falling sideways in a nod, you move to the sink drawer to fetch the scissors, silently agreeing it might just be the easiest thing to do.

Mindful of the sling and bandages, you rid John of the thin cotton shirt, leaving him in only his boxers briefs. 

While you turn around to throw the strips of his shirt into the bin, John stands, moving around you toward the shower. By cocking your hip, you swiftly close the drawer after putting back the scissors.

As you turn to say something to John, you catch him stabilising himself on the edge of the sink, knees just about to bend. Realising what he is about to do, all your previous thoughts are promptly cut short.

”You’re not kneeling on the floor." John stalls in his movement, looking at you. If he says anything in return, you don't catch it as you're already on your way out of his room.

The spare bathroom, which was under renovation the first time you visited, has now been finished. But you remember the stool John had used was yet to be taken to the spare room downstairs. Although you'd reminded him about it every time you'd been over, now you were thankful as you could fetch it as something John could sit on rather than the floor.

With a slight shuffling step, you bring the stool along with you and to where John waits, leaning against the sink, his eyes finding you the second you're visible through the open door of his en suite.

"Sit”, you motion to the stool you brought once John had moved to the side and let you set it down inside the shower's glass doors. A slight tug that doesn't evolve into a smile is present at the edge of his mouth as he follows your command.

When John makes himself comfortable on the stool, you gently nudge the back of his head with your fingers, urging him to bow forward to make it easier for you. Even sitting down, he reaches your stomach.

Pushing up the sleeves of your hoodie, you turn on the tap, testing the water steadily flowing from the showerhead on your hand. When finally finding the perfect temperature, you keep the stream gentle so as not to splash the bandages covering his left arm but rather trickle forward and down to the floor. 

Small groans of appreciation escape John as you wash his hair, fingers running over his scalp to wet every single strand before setting down the showerhead and massaging some shampoo over his head. Earthy and clean scents fill the warm air as it steams every reflective surface inside the bathroom.

You do a double cleanse, not because you think John needs it, but because he seems to enjoy the gentle pressure off your fingers as they run up and down his scalp. 

After washing away the last sudds, you take a towel from the rack and cover his head. Your laughter fills the air as you hear the huff of amusement from beneath the fabric draped over him as you attempt to dry his hair as much as possible by ruffling the fabric.

Ultimately, you slide the towel from his head, letting it hang around his neck to catch any stray droplets from reaching his shoulder. John turns towards you upon having his vision uncovered again, and you instinctively step closer when he does, inspecting his face.

”I don’t trust myself trimming your beard”, you card your fingers through the brown strands on his cheek. A low huff pulls your eyes to the blue ones steadily watching you.

”Can do that myself in a day or two. You’ve done plenty enough, love”. John’s about to stand, but your hand softly settles on his healthy shoulder.

”I only said I don’t want to go near the best part of you with scissors”.

”The best part, eh?” He pinches the back of your lower thigh, a squeak slipping out of you as you bat his hand away with a lower lip curled between your teeth.

”Don’t bite the hand that feeds you”, you chide with an evolving smile. 

You catch John’s chuckle as you switch your attention to the counter, eyeing his products as neatly lined up as usual and the set of your own products beside them. Stepping away to the sink and out of his reach, you grab one of the face towels from the stack he’d bought for you to always have at his place, along with the other products needed.

When you turn back, you set the things on the sink-edge beside you. 

”Said I can’t shape it up, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make the most out of what I can do”.

”You pamperin’ me?” Your eyes flit sideways, meeting a blue gaze watching you with a tilted head.

”I’m taking care of you, John”, you corrected him as you turned to wet your hands beneath the tap and squirted some cleanser into your hands. 

John doesn't respond, only remains quiet when you start coating his face in the milky substance, merely staring up at you for a few seconds before his eyes flutter close when you cock a brow down at him.

You gently rub away the invisible grime on his face, staying clear of his beard as you lather his face. Humming gently, you wipe away the suds after a few dozen seconds and continue with the beard shampoo. 

You’d seen the man, who now lets his chest deflate with a content sigh as you easily angle his head backwards with a few fingers beneath his chin, do his beard-routine a few times. It wasn’t difficult to remember, and you’re happy you didn’t need to ask John and bring him out of the relaxed state he’d entered as you used one of the brushes to rub the product into his beard.

Using the opposite edge of the towel, you also dry off his beard. 

You wash off the white foam from the brush as you discard the towel before coating his skin in your moisturiser, only to continue by dropping some oil into your palms before you settle them over his lower face, smoothening them over the strands. 

As you shift to the sink again, you reach for his comb, only to find John’s eyes had fluttered open when you turn back. 

Those blues of his are soft as you gently comb his facial hair with slow movements. His hand settles on the outside of your thigh when you pick up the beard balm, warming it between your palms. The vanilla white lotion softens and warms between your hands before you work it through his beard. 

Slowly, John's hand moves to the back of your leg while fingers lightly start tracing the line of his beard and skin, both much smoother than previously. 

The moment was soft, gazing at one another in silence, before you cupped John's cheek and bent down. A gentle smell of something nutty from John's beard invades your nose as you press your lips against his. 

Even if you end up trading multiple kisses, the pauses never let you drift further away than for your lips to rush against one another.

John felt the last bit of tension leave his body. Something awfully soft had infiltrated his heart as you fussed around him, your hand leaving gentler touches than even the Doc had done when he’d returned from the field with his shot-up shoulder. He’d tried to ward off your help and doting, but now he realised he needed this.

He’s been on 24/7 for over a week. He’s run on less food than at home. Countless times, his mouth had watered when thinking about the roast you’d shared before his deployment. He’s run on minimal sleep for several days in a row, barely more than half asleep when given a moment of tranquillity and nowhere near as relaxed as when having you in his arms. He’d looked over his shoulder for more than double the amount, only to be hit by a bullet in the end anyway, coming home broken.

John pulls away, cupping one of the hands that rests on his cheek, turning to kiss your palm. But, when he gazes at you again, your brows draw together.

”Don’t”.

"I didn’t say anythin'"

You only shake your head. "I know what you’re thinking, and no, you're not a burden".

"But I'm a broken man at the moment, love. Just see how much you've needed to do today", he scoffs, letting go of your hand, letting his fall onto his lap. You stop John from turning his head to the side, away from you, instead forcing him to watch you.

You look down at the man who meets your gaze with an almost sorrowful look. "And you think that bothers me?"

"Why wouldn’t it? It’s not your responsibility. Should just not have gone about gettin’ shot-".

"Jonathan Price". The use of his government name shuts his grumbling right up, his eyes even widening the slightest bit. "What bothers me isn’t that you got shot. I know the dangers of your work. What does bother me is seeing you in pain".

"I appreciate it, but there’s no need for you to do all this, to care for me". His voice is softer, but you still shake your head.

"Yes, there is because I love you". You barely notice the weight of what you say, those three chosen words leaving your lips in a too-natural fashion to be the first time. But rather than reluctance preceding and nerves following them, there's a sense of them being long overdue in the first place.

"I hate how much it hurts seeing your pain, so it’s not that I need to do anything for you. I very much care because I want to, John".

Compared to a few moments ago when John wanted to turn away from you, now he can't take his eyes off you. Whatever murky emotion which clouded his eyes has lifted, those blues clearer than ever as he stares right back at you, lips slightly parted.

"I’ve said it before, but you're too good for me".

"They say you get what you deserve". You offer John a smile, and something just crumbles then.

"God, you don’t know how much I love you, darlin’".

Your chest swells, heart suddenly pumping much warmer blood through your body. "So let me take care of you now when you need it".

"I- of course", he breathes, voice remarkably thin to support his gravelly cords as he shuts his eyes tightly. John gives you a single nod instead of attempting to continue his sentence, and you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. 

His arm loops around your waist the best it can from his slumped forward angle, pulling you close so his head rests against your upper stomach. Despite his hair being wet, you card your fingers through it, kissing the top of his head, his warm exhalation warming your skin despite the thick sweater.

"Goin’ to be one hell of a Christmas". The first half of the sentence is mumbled into you, the second half clearer as John looks up at you again.

You hum, feeling how one of the strands at the back of his neck drips water onto your fingers. "I only see more of a reason to have a lazy day".

"Where you do everythin’".

"Hush, now you’ve allowed me to do the work for once". You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck, looking back into those blues.

"Still don’t want you workin’ yourself to death". He gives you an honest rather than pointed look.

"I should say that to you", you only muse lightly in return, not needing to avert your eyes to his bandages as they shine like a beacon in the corner of your vision. "And I reckon it’s going to be fine either way".

"M’sure”, his reply is hummed into the sparse space between your faces before your lips press against his in a fleeting kiss. Before you lean back and straighten, however, his hand cups the back of your neck. "Thank you for all of this, love".

"You know it’s nothing". Although John doesn’t answer as you step backwards, you don’t catch any guilt, no trace of the previous gloom in his gaze. He believes your words, the crows-feet at the edges of his eyes and smile-lines around his mouth further proof.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Spencer Reid Masterlist: Fics

In order from Newest to Oldest. Last Updated: 02/26/24

Spencer Reid Series

Key: Personal Favs:✨ Requested:🔹 Angst:🔴 Fluff:🟡 Smut:🟣

Last Last Time ✨🔴 What if 'First Date' was just severely more complicated, and hurt a thousand times more? What if you had never walked out the door? What if Spencer had never met Cat Adams? Alternate Ending ✨🔹🔴🟡

You 🔴✨ a small fic inspired by the loss of someone, and how Spencer feels about it.

Truth or Dare 🔹🔴 Request!: "okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁"

Lucky Me 🟡 Just a cozy scenario where the reader is a wee bit drunk, and has a phenomenal idea, maybe inspired by a true story or two.

Symphonic Kisses 🟡 You give Spence a pretty damn good anniversary present.

Cold Feet 🔹🟡 Request!: "could u do Spencer Reid and childhood friends fem!reader with heavy pining and " it's always been u" at the end hurt/comfort ?"

Loving You 🔹🟡 Request!: "hiii!! congrats on the 500 followers 🤍 for your celebration, could i request 7 and 13 from the fluff prompts for spencer reid? thanks :]"

Never Let Me Go 🔹🔴 Request!: "hello !! rn i'm in the mood for some angst with a happy ending so can i request something where reader's got really bad abandonment issues? 🥹 maybe they fight over something which makes r leave ++ spence is confused bc it's so sudden n unlike them but it's all bc theyre scared he'll leave first n then it's just lots n lots of reassurance🥹🥹 thank you!!"

Unexpected Visitor 🟡 There are some things that the team does not know about, like you, for example. Some good, quick, Christmas fluff for your holiday enjoyment.

Pope and Circumstance 🔹 🟡 Request!: "Heyyyy!!!! I read that you were taking requests so I was wondering if you could write something for non BAU nerd reader and Spencer. Something sweet and comforting with a reader that’s a nerd but more on the language and literature side."

Birthday Present 🟡 You and Spencer enjoy a night in together.

New Shade of Green 🔹🔴 🟡 Request! "Hey idk if you're taking requests but I'd love to read a fic where Spencer Reid and reader are in established relationship and on a case it happens that reader's best friend since childhood assists. And Spencer gets really jealous of their close friendship but is in denial. A lot of angst but a fluffy ending."

Black Dog 🟡 Mornings with Spencer feel so good. Based on Led Zeppelin's Black Dog.

Cramps n Comfort 🔹🔴 🟡 Request! "Okay, Spencer comforting reader who has really bad period cramps and is just crying"

To Make Sure I Stay Sane 🔴 Based off of Six Below by Flipturn. What happeneds when your cover is blown? What do you do when you can never really recover from the shit you endure? pure angst.

Barbenheimer! 🔹 🟡 Request! "Reader takes Spencer to see Barbie, and he might just enjoy it more than he thinks he will."

Wired Frames 🔹 🟡 Request! "Spencer request: The team meets at a bar after they returning from a case and Spencer comes in looking dramatically different (like a nice new haircut and casual outfit and glasses) and the team / OC lose their minds"

Bad Day 🔹 🟡 Request: "spencer just comforting reader after a bad mental health day and helping them to take a break and shower/or bathe🌼🫶🏻"

Something Old, Something New 🔴 🟡 takes place during S7 Ep1, The Gang goes to court! Lawyer!Reader! Spencer is really over the senate committee, but something cools his head when he bumps into an old friend.

[builtbybrokenbells]

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

~

Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Top of the List [Part Three]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Jessie Goodwin, Lisa Marie Presley, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Colonel Parker [Mentioned], Joe Goodwin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2798 of 9639

Summary: When you’re a kid writing a Christmas list is simple; toys and lots of them. As you get older however the wishes start to change and with a life as complicated as the Goodwin-Presleys those wants aren’t always easy to come by. For Addison it’s a family. For Jess answers. And for Elvis, well, as long as he’s got his girls he doesn’t have to wish for a damn thing.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Sex, Penatrative Sex, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Handjobs, Morning Sex, Mentions of Death, Grief, Grieving, Absent Father, Single Parent, Working Parent, Christmas Day, Secrets, Festive Period, Teen Angst, Moods, Fingering, Christmas Morning, Kids on Christmas, Magic of Christmas

Notes: Okay so I’d been planning these as two separate fics but I decided to put them together because they parallel each other so well. All of them wanting something etc etc

I did want to make it sorta ghosts of Christmas past, present and future but working out the timelines of how to establish everything was too hard.

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

ELVIS & ADDISON MASTERPOST  //  TAG LIST

Elvis was a deep sleeper; he always had been, even as a kid, as evidenced by the fact he’d used to have to spend every night in his parents bed to stop him from wandering off, deep in slumber and unawakenable to the outside world. So the thud of the padded door hitting his bedroom wall must’ve had quite some force on it because it was enough to pull him from sleep immediately, as was the caterwaul of his youngest daughter as she announced it was Christmas to the room before immediately appearing in front of him, a flurry of red pyjamas and blonde locks as she clambered on the bed.

‘It’s Christmas!’ she shouted, her blue eyes wide and bright as she clambered on him, her little limbs surprisingly pointy as they pierced his torso through the comforter.

‘Ya don’t say,’ Elvis chuckled, pulling her to slip in beside him and Addison, who was now stirring from sleep herself, a smile on her face and her eyes bleary.

‘I tried keeping her entertained as long as I could,’ his other daughter, Jess, said, appearing in a less chaotic fashion as she perched herself on the bed by his feet.

‘It’s okay,’ Elvis said, ‘Merry Christmas honey.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ Jess smiled, ‘Merry Christmas mom.’

‘Merry Christmas baby,’ Addison yawned, though the holiday greeting she’d had locked and loaded for her husband, who was watching her with a smile, was abruptly ripped away as Lisa decided they’d spent far too much time chatting about trivial things and instead attempted to steer them back to the crux of the issue.

'Addie, guess what?’ she said, looking up at her stepmother with a beaming smile.

‘What sweetie?’ Addison said.

‘Santa left me a stocking full of stuff by my bed! Jessie too!’ Lisa beamed.

‘Really? Wow!’ Addison smiled.

‘Is that why you’ve already got chocolate around your mouth buttonhead?’ Elvis chuckled, swiping at the corners of her lips with his thumb, though she fended him off pulling out from his grasp until she was beside her sister, where Jess remained calm and collected, Lisa stayed on her knees like a runner at the starting piston, ready to take off just as soon as the gun went off.

‘Did you guys open your stockings then?’ Addison asked, shifting towards Elvis now that there was a gap between them, his warmth inviting even though it couldn’t be any cooler than forty degrees outside.

‘Yeah, Santa really went all out this year, huh?’ Jess said quirking an eyebrow at her mother who rolled her eyes.

‘Yeah, those elves must’ve been worked to the bone, right E?’ Addison said with a giggle. Elvis shrugged, ‘what can I say? Santa’s obviously seen just how good you kids have been this year.’

‘Well you can’t argue with that right mom,’ Jess giggled.

‘Try arguing with him when he’s got his chequebook out,’ Addison said.

‘If anyone can it’s you,’ Elvis whispered in her ear, his thumb dancing underneath the t-shirt she was wearing, the soft skin of her waist warm against his hand.

‘Have you and daddy not been good?’ Lisa said, again seemingly unbothered by the topic of conversation, her mind elsewhere as she scanned the room, looking for something.

‘What do you mean baby?’ Elvis asked.

‘You and Addie didn’t get stockings,’ she said, looking at them with wide-eyed worry.

‘That’s cos theirs are downstairs remember,’ Jess said, vanquishing the worry from her sister’s eyes as she touched her shoulder gently.

'Yeah, me and your daddy left ours by the fire place,’ Addison said.

‘Oh yeah, they’re with the other presents,’ Lisa said, realisation settling her apparent nerves though they mounted again as Elvis’ face fell into an expression of suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he said, ‘and just how do you know there’s other presents?’

‘We...uh don’t,’ Lisa said, her little face just as embarrassed as her sister sitting next to her though distinctly more worried.

‘C'mon now Yisa, ya ain’t gonna lie to your daddy on Christmas now are you,’ Elvis said sternly.

Addison watched as her little face grew panicked and was half inclined to put her out of her misery, her young mind no doubt panicking she’d found herself where no kid wanted to be on Christmas morning, in trouble, but Elvis seemed to be in a jovial mood and as always when he was happy he liked to tease.

‘I’m not lying!' Lisa protested, genuine worry brooding behind her cute features as she doubled down on her fib. Fortunately for Addison though Jess intervened before the pair of them could go too far as she said, ‘it’s not her fault. It’s mine but we just had a peep.’

‘Jessie Jo!’ Addison giggled.

‘Hey I kept her from opening them at least!’ Jess protested.

‘We did read all the tags though! The biggest ones for me!’ Lisa giggled, making Elvis chuckle.

‘And here I was thinking you might be too old for all this Christmas excitement,’ Addison mused.

‘Never too old right sweetheart,’ Elvis said, nudging her with his foot as she rolled her eyes.

‘Well we might all be too old if we stay up here any longer,’ Addison said, leaning up from where she was nestled against Elvis, ‘go on. You guys head downstairs; we’ll be down in a minute.’

Lisa didn’t need telling twice and took off like a speeding bullet, heading to the door with Jess following quietly behind her. Addison rubbed her eyes as they left her, all the excitement having zapped her of the little energy she’d accrued between now and two am when she and Elvis had finally gotten to bed, more excited than the kids as they spent the night putting presents under the tree and eating Santa’s cookies. Her past Christmases had never been bad. She’d always tried her hardest to make Jess’ Christmases magical, but she couldn’t deny that this one felt different. She’d enjoyed not having to worry about the cost of things as they picked out presents for the girls. She’d liked watching Elvis and the girls cuddle on the couch watching endless holiday movies. She’d enjoyed telling him about their past Christmases, even showing him a stack of photos she’d crammed in one of the countless boxes they’d yet to unpack from the old house. And most of all she’d enjoyed that there’d been no rush to any of it. There’d been no worry or stress to any of it because as of the twentieth of December Elvis was a free man. They’d be heading into 1974 free of the Colonel. Free of ties and commitments. Free to be a family.

‘Don’t be too long you two,’ Jess said as she got to the door, eyeing her parents though she knew it was probably fruitless. As much as she loved him she’d come to find out that everything at Graceland moved at Elvis’ pace and as he eyed her mother adoringly she figured they’d not be in as much of a hurry as her sister had been to get downstairs.  

‘We won’t,’ Elvis said as she shuffled out the door, calling to her before she disappeared, ‘hey why don’t ya go and wake Uncle Jer up!’

As the door clicked closed he sat up, placing a kiss on his wife to be’s forehead as he mumbled, ‘merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ Addison smiled against his neck, pulling back to find him watching her with a matching grin.

‘How long do you think we have before they get too excited and open them all?’ Elvis mused.

‘I’m surprised they’ve held off this long,’ Addison giggled.

‘Well we can thank Jess for that,’ he teased, ‘keeping everyone in line. She’s a mini you.’

‘Oh I don’t know five-year-old Jess would’ve given Lisa a run for her money,’ Addison mused, running her fingers along his jaw until her hand settled at the nape of his neck, teasing the hair that danced along it, well due a trim, though she quite liked the bit of length to it now that she’d become acclimatised to it.

‘That so,’ Elvis mused, leaning in till their noses were touching before he captured her lips softly in his. It was gentle at first, the pair of them too tired for a frantic rush of lust but there was a definite force to his movements as he pushed her back draping himself over her as he kissed her deeply.

‘Elvis,’ she whispered breathily as they came up for air, the throb in her core almost painful as his hand trailed down her torso, his thumb teasing her hardened nipple through the cotton of her shirt.

‘What?’ he breathed, a teasing smile back on his face.

‘We haven’t time,’ she whispered, the sounds of the kids downstairs somehow louder now that she thought about it.

‘The hell we ain’t,’ Elvis said, kissing her again as he palmed at her, his fingers dancing underneath the cotton of her shirt, teasing along the waistband of her pants.

‘Everyone’s…gonna…be waiting,’ she protested, her words punctuated by heavy breaths as his mouth migrated down her jaw, nipping and sucking along her neck as his fingers breached her pants, teasing through her slick slowly.

‘Let ‘em,’ he grunted, moving his hips against her thigh in the desperate need for some friction against his rigid cock.

‘And when the kids come barging in?’ Addison asked, trying to keep a level head though that thought was quickly snatched away as the fingers that had been teasing her breached her entrance, going deeper than expected given that the chunky rings she’d become used to were gathered on the nightstand beside them, not that her body gave little resistance anyway, ‘oh fuck.’

‘See,’ Elvis groaned, ‘besides that’s what Uncle Jer is for.’

She was panting now, grinding her hips against his hand in a way he envied, given that the silk of his pants was barely giving him any sensation. Not what he was craving at least.

‘C’mon,’ he said, peppering kisses along her jawline. He knew if he could get her out of her head, if he could make her feel good enough she’d yield to him. This was their first Christmas together, properly together. There was no worries, no impending doom, just them and their girls. And though he’d loved spending time with the girls and seeing their little faces light up with the holiday spirit, he’d loved having Addison to himself too. He knew it was probably not the time. That they should’ve headed downstairs to where the kids were waiting, Lisa no doubt bouncing off the walls with excitement, hauling everyone out of bed so that they were up and ready for when the pair of them decided to go downstairs, but he couldn’t help himself. They’d been too tired to even contemplate anything as they fell into bed last night and they’d no doubt get no time together throughout the day given that Addison had a way of being needed by everyone that rivalled even his penchant for commanding attention. So whilst they had time to breathe he was going to indulge, it was Christmas after all.

‘Five minutes,’ he said, smiling against her skin as he felt her crack an eye open.

‘That all it takes ya these days?’ she teased as he pulled back, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. She was teasing him, which was foolish really given the whimper he emitted from her lips as his fingers curled against her, ‘I’d say I’d need less than five.’

‘Fuck Elvis,’ she whimpered, her fingers knotting in his hair as he moved quicker against her, allowing her to grind against the heel of his hand, the pressure against her clit making her offer breathy moans out to the room before she stifled them by kissing him.

‘Oh God,’ she panted, any thought of the kids gone as she chased a high she hadn’t even been thinking about ten minutes ago.

‘That’s it baby,’ he encouraged, careful not to change anything should it steal the moment from her.

‘Right there,’ she said before she squoze her thighs together, trembling around his trapped hand as she came undone beneath him. He waited for those hazel eyes to find him, hooded and lustful, before they came down from the high she’d been on, ready for more. And like his daughter, Elvis didn’t need to be told twice. He was careful not to be too obvious; should the kids come running back upstairs he didn’t want to scar them for life, so it only took some quick manoeuvring—rolling her onto her side and removing impeding clothing—before he was buried to the hilt, the relief he’d been craving better than he could’ve imagined. If he’d had the time he would’ve gone slower, worshipping every inch of her body like she deserved, but like a kid on Christmas he was too excited to wait for his present. Addison seemed to be feeling the same, grinding back against him to take him deeper before she moved his touch to her chest, enjoying the way that even her sizable breast felt small in his large hand.

‘Oh God Addie,’ Elvis grunted weakly, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades, the cotton of her t-shirt absorbing the gathered perspiration on his brow.

‘I’m close,’ she whispered, rolling her eyes as he smirked against her and mumbled, ‘and you thought five minutes was too long.’

‘Shut up,’ she panted, unable to stop her walls from clenching around him as she thought of the smug smile on his face.

‘Wait for me,’ Elvis said, feeling her teeter on the edge he wasn’t quite up to yet, his hips snapping faster and deeper as he hurried towards the precipice.

‘Elvis,’ she groaned.

‘M’right here baby,’ he grunted, ‘right here.’

‘Fuck,’ she cried, locking around him as she came, trembling once again on his cock.

‘Addie,’ he groaned.

‘I got you,’ she turning her head so that she could press a kiss to his temple, which seemed to be the thing that got him over that edge, white hot pleasure running down his spine as he spilled into her, their gathered expenditure seeping out between them as his hips faltered in rhythm, his cock slipping out of her in the process. She didn’t seem to care though; in fact, she took his hand from her chest, holding it to her cheek as she peppered kisses along it, ignoring the taste of herself on her lips. They were quiet for a moment, catching their breath before she moved, rolling onto her back so she could see him properly, keeping hold of his hand as she did. Elvis pressed his forehead to her temple, closing his eyes as he enjoyed lying there knowing that it was only going to be short-lived.

‘Nine minutes and thirty-four seconds,’ she said, making him open his eyes and catch her watching the clock behind him.

‘Well maybe I was being overly ambitious,’ he mused, kissing her cheek softly.

‘You know if you needed me to buy you a watch for Christmas I would’ve,’ she giggled.

‘Don’t need a watch,’ he mumbled, ‘I’ve got all I need.’

‘Is that right?’ she mused.

‘Mmmhmmm,’ Elvis said.

‘You old softy,’ she smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Elvis flopped back, whatever energy he’d been blessed with dipping as he thought about having to get out of bed and how he’d have to summon a level of excitement he didn’t feel he had in him anymore given he’d already had his fill of excitement for the day. Addison however wasn’t on his wavelength, whatever job he’d done at getting her out of her head now ruined as the sounds of people below wafted upstairs.

‘Now c’mon,’ she said, pushing the covers back and leaving him far too exposed for his liking, which he evidenced with a grumble she ignored as she continued, ‘if Lisa’s anything like Jess we’ve got about two minutes to clean up before she storms back in here.’

‘I could do a lot in two minutes,’ Elvis countered, though his quip was ignored as Addison clambered out of bed, heading towards the bathroom as he flopped back, closing his eyes as he tried to muster the energy to follow her. Though as he heard her humming to herself and the sounds of the shower coming to life as she disappeared into the bathroom, he smiled. She’d given him what he wanted, what he needed, and it hadn’t even gone seven o’clock yet. He could get through the day, for her, for his girls.

He just hoped that the excitement of the morning would be enough of a distraction to keep the girls from asking why they were now in different pyjamas.  

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121

[pedroscurls]

Title: One Drunken Night (Part 5.)

CHAPTER TITLE: Navigating Relationships

Character(s): Negan (pre-apocalypse), Joel Miller (pre-apocalypse, au), Reader (third-person POV), Lucille Summary: Negan finds out some unsettling news. Joel and Reader finally have their date, but is interrupted by Negan.  Word Count: 3,717 Author's Note: Doing a little time jump in the next upcoming chapters! I hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as I’m enjoying writing it. The angst is here... And if you know me, you know how much I love writing angst... hehe. Enjoy!  Warning: Language (it is Negan after all), talks about cancer

(GIF Source: @jdmorganz​, @magnusedom) 

Y/N heard a knock on the door, smiling in excitement. She finished setting the table and walked towards the door, taking a deep breath. Finally, she opened the door and blushed at the sight of Joel, who was holding flowers. 

“Hey, darlin’.” He gave her a small smile, stepping into her apartment and leaning over to kiss her cheek. Joel pulled back to look down at her, noticing her big eyes staring into him and he felt his heart flutter at the sight. “I got ya flowers.” He was nervous. It had been a very long time since he had been on a date and he didn’t want to mess this up. 

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” Y/N was taken aback by the kiss he gave her, feeling his soft lips touch her skin and his beard brushing against her. She bit her lower lip, taking the flowers from him and shutting the door behind him. 

It had been almost a month since Y/N met Negan and while she was still in communication with him, she was still so confused with her feelings for both men. It also didn’t help that she had been feeling sick for almost a full week now. She had been throwing up in the mornings, accompanied with mood swings and random food cravings. She associated it with her period coming soon, but when she finally felt recovered enough, Y/N immediately reached out to Joel to invite him over for dinner. For their date. 

“How was your day?” She asked, leading him to the kitchen as she grabbed a vase to put the flowers in.

Joel smiled, leaning against the counter as he watched her carefully. “It was fine. Just happy to be here.”

He saw her stop for a moment to look over at him and Joel noticed the blush in her cheeks. She bit her lower lip and then continued to put the flowers in the vase. 

“I’m glad you’re here… And I’m glad we’re finally doing this. For a minute there, it seemed like life didn’t want us to go out,” she teased. 

Joel nodded in agreement, bringing a hand to run over his hair. “Well, I’m pretty persistent when I want something, so no matter what, we were gonna go out on a date.”

Y/N smiled. “Technically, we’re not out.”

Joel chuckled. “Still, we’re on a date. Next time, I’ll take ya out.”

“Oh, there’s gonna be a second date?” Y/N teased. Joel smiled.

“I sure hope so.”

Y/N then led him in her kitchen, setting the flowers down onto the table. She looked over at him and noticed his casual clothes, dressed in blue jeans and a dark colored t-shirt. He had removed his boots, but she enjoyed his casual attire. She, on the other hand, was dressed in leggings and an oversized t-shirt because while she was experiencing some pretty painful pre-period symptoms, she had also been feeling bloated for a couple of days now too. 

Joel, on the other hand, continued to look at her like she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. It made her blush and she had to wonder if he always looked at her like that.

“This looks great,” he complimented. “Smells amazing too.”

“Can’t go wrong with some steak and potatoes.”

She sat down with him and inched closer to him. Joel noticed and smiled, nervously reaching a hand out to rest on her thigh. He heard her breath hitch in her throat and immediately retracted, apologizing instantly.

“I’m sorry, I–”

She shook her head and took his hand, letting it rest back on her leg. “I like it.”

“You sure?”

Joel was taken by surprise when she leaned over to kiss his cheek. It was such an innocent kiss, but he couldn’t help that his mind was drifting to more inappropriate thoughts. While it had been a while since he had been on a date, it also had been a long time since he was with anyone. Intimately. 

“How about we eat?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence.

Joel nodded. “Thanks for making dinner, darlin’.”

“Thanks for coming over, Joel.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Once he pulled away, Joel noticed her staring at him and he wanted nothing more than to just capture her lips with his. He had to pull himself together and turn his attention to the plate of food sitting in front of him. Y/N followed his movement, grabbing her utensils and beginning to eat.

Throughout their meal, Y/N’s laughter filled the room and Joel felt his heart swell at the sound. He was having an amazing time and while they had plenty of one-on-one time together, it just felt different now. In a good way. He felt himself falling deeper for her by the second.

“Wait, wait, so you’re telling me that you lost a bet to Tommy and therefore, you had to streak at your high school’s football game?” Y/N giggled. Their meals were finished and they had moved to the couch with Y/N reader facing Joel, her eyes staring at him.

Joel chuckled, nodding in embarrassment. “It wasn’t my finest moments. I was young… But a bet is a bet.”

“Good to know you’re a man of your word,” she smiled. “I was never the type to get in trouble in school.”

“Ya know, I can see that.” Joel teased. 

“What?” She asked, feigning a shocked expression. “Do I really give off that vibe?”

Joel laughed. “I just mean that you’re too nice and too thoughtful that I can’t think of you ever breaking the rules.”

She pouted and Joel found it cute. “I have broken the rules.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about it,” he urged. 

Y/N bit her lower lip and leaned forward, keeping her eyes glued onto his.

“Okay, well… I was a really good liar as a kid,” she admitted, thinking back to her childhood. It made her sad to think about her parents and about Waffles, but it still brought her good memories. 

“I’m not quite sure that’s a good way to start,” he commented. 

Y/N shook her head. “You gonna let me tell the story or what?”

Joel grinned, “Okay, okay. Go on then.”

“Anyway, I wasn’t allowed to date or have a boyfriend. Being an only child… My parents were very protective of me. They wanted me to just focus on school. But, I had a huge crush on this guy who was way too old for me.”

“Seems like you have a type,” Joel added.

Y/N blushed. “I was a junior in high school and he was in college. Anyway, for about six months, I snuck out to be with him and my parents didn’t find out until…”

“Until?”

“Until I came home one night and my mom was there, sitting at the kitchen counter. I can still remember the look on her face,” she giggled.

“Was she upset?”

“Oh yeah. She woke my dad up and they both sat me down and lectured me, wanting to know what I was doing, who I was with, if I was out of my mind…”

“And?”

Y/N smiled, “Well, I also had an attitude when I was younger, so I talked back.”

Joel arched a brow. “You? Talking back?” He teased. “How dare you.”

She playfully smacked his upper arm, feeling him pull her closer to him. She cleared her throat and looked up at him, leaning against his side.

“What’d you tell them?” Joel asked.

“That I was old enough to be having sex.”

Joel widened his eyes, clearing his throat. “Seriously?” 

“What? It was the truth,” she laughed. 

Joel looked down at her and flashed her a smile. He bit his lip and stared into her eyes. Holding her in his arms and being this close to her felt like home; it felt like she belonged there, with him. 

“You continue to surprise me. Here I was, thinking you were a good girl,” Joel replied.

Y/N cleared her throat. She was sure that Joel didn’t mean for it to come out as naughty and dirty as it did, but he did take note of the blush appearing in her cheeks.

“I mean–” He stuttered, trying to apologize before he heard her interrupt him.

Y/N giggled. “I’m a good girl, Joel… But I can be bad.” She winked.

Joel grunted quietly, arching a brow in her direction and leaning closer to her. “You teasin’ me?”

“That depends. You want me to?”

Joel narrowed his eyes down at her, leaning into her as their lips were mere inches apart. Before he could lean in to close the distance, he felt her pulling away. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta–” She pointed in the direction of the bathroom, immediately feeling embarrassed that she had to ruin the mood.

Joel smiled, nodding his head as he was brought back to reality. It was way too early for him to kiss her and certainly too early for them to have sex, but he couldn’t help it. His mind kept drifting to the idea that it would eventually happen and the more they talked tonight, the more he found himself falling for her even more. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be here.”

Y/N stood from the couch and quickly walked to the bathroom. She felt sick all of a sudden and had to wonder why her pre-period symptoms were more painful and more aggressive this time around; it was never this bad before.

While Y/N was in the bathroom, Joel heard her phone begin to ring. Glancing over his shoulder in the direction she walked in, he bit his lower lip and noticed the name on the screen.

Negan. 

He furrowed a brow and his curiosity got the best of him. Joel took her phone and answered it, hearing the other man’s voice immediately.

“Hey doll–”

“It’s Joel.”

There was a long silence and Joel had to wonder why Negan was calling. “Um, can you let Y/N know to call me back?”

“Why?”

“I just– I gotta talk to her.” 

“For what?” Joel asked, feeling himself get frustrated at the sound of Negan’s voice. His mind drifted again. Y/N had said she wasn’t feeling well, but could it be because she was spending time with Negan? Joel couldn’t even get angry at her, it wasn’t like they decided to be in an exclusive relationship. After all, this was their first date. 

—

Earlier that day, Negan went back to his house that he shared with Lucille to get more of his clothes. He was staying at a hotel for almost three weeks now, both he and Lucille deciding to remain separated to determine if they really still wanted each other. Throughout the three weeks, Negan had consistently been talking to Y/N, even coming by for dinner a couple of nights. However, he had given her her space when she said she wasn’t feeling well. He didn’t want to bother her when she was sick, so Negan kept to himself. 

He wanted to call Y/N and just talk to her, but decided against it. Negan needed to stop relying heavily on Y/N to make him feel good, to make him feel like he was enough and important. He had gotten so used to Lucille berating him that when Y/N gave him attention, he yearned for more of it.

As he was walking towards the bedroom, Negan noticed Lucille in the laundry room across the hall. She didn’t greet him, but instead just sent a nod in his direction to let him know that she acknowledged him. Negan sighed, stuffing more clothes into his duffle bag in anger. He glanced around the room and it made him sad to think that this was it. This was the end of their marriage. He knew he wasn’t the best husband, but he still did love Lucille. All he could think about as he looked around the room were the happy memories they shared early in their marriage and how they were so deep in love with each other. 

Now, it felt like a very distant memory, almost like he had dreamt the good times they shared. 

Negan was broken out of his reverie when he heard a thud coming from across the hall. Immediately, he dropped his bag to run out of the room to see what was happening. He saw Lucille on the floor and she wasn’t moving. Immediately, panic began to set in and he dropped to his knees next to her.

“Lucille?” He cradled her against him, gently shaking her awake. “Baby, wake up…”

No response. 

“Lucille!” 

No movement.

“Come on, baby… Lucille, wake up!” Negan immediately grabbed his phone and dialed 911. Lucille was still breathing which was a good sign, but she hadn’t woken up yet. He was frantically on the phone with the 911 operator, holding her close to him. 

Five minutes passed until the ambulance came into their house, taking Lucille’s vitals and carrying her onto the stretcher. Negan followed them out of the house and into the back of the ambulance. He sat next to her, his mind solely focused on Lucille as the medic continued to ensure that she was still breathing while the other drove quickly to the hospital.

Hours passed and Negan hadn’t heard a word. He was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, his foot tapping impatiently and nervously against the carpeted floor. He looked around, noticing other people waiting as his mind drifted to Lucille. He didn’t know why she had collapsed and why she didn’t wake up, but Negan held onto the hope that her heart was still beating. 

She was still alive. 

He was about to get up to get another cup of coffee when he noticed a doctor walk in his direction. Negan immediately stood up, looking down at the other man. The doctor didn’t look sympathetic, but he also didn’t look hopeful. 

“Mr. Smith?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Lucille, my wife, is she–?”

“She’s resting, but she’s okay right now.”

Negan let out a relieved breath. “What happened?”

“We ran some tests,” the doctor continued. “And we found a mass.”

“A mass? What the fuck does that mean? Is she going to be okay?”

“Your wife has cancer, Mr. Smith… Stage three breast cancer.”

Negan immediately felt his world crashing down. Was this the universe’s way of punishing him? He looked at the doctor, tears filling his eyes. 

“Is it treatable?”

“She will need surgery and chemotherapy and radiation. It’s not guaranteed but–”

“Does she know?” Negan asked.

The doctor nodded. “Yes.”

“Is that why it took you guys fucking hours to tell me what the hell was going on?” Negan was furious. He was upset. He was hurt. 

“I can understand your frustration, Mr. Smith, but–”

“When can I see her?” He interrupted.

The doctor gave Negan the number to Lucille’s room. “We’ll be coming by later to discuss the next steps.”

Negan didn’t respond. Instead, he immediately began making his way to Lucille. 

Once he entered the room, he noticed that she was asleep. Negan immediately sat next to her and took her hand in his, still noticing that her ring was missing. It didn’t matter anymore though. Negan didn’t care; he just wanted her to be okay and to get through this. He kissed the back of her hand, feeling her squeeze his hand. 

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, seeing her eyes flutter open.

“Negan…”

“I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry.”

Negan sighed, “What for?”

“For everything.”

“Well, you’re not the only one at fault,” Negan replied. “We’ll get through this, baby. I promise.”

“I love you.” She said abruptly. Negan felt his heart leap at the words and he leaned up to peck her lips. Maybe this was what they both needed to find their way back to each other.

“I love you too. Get some rest, okay?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

Negan nodded, “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was nighttime by the time Negan stood from the chair he was sitting on. His bones were aching and his back was killing him, but Lucille was still sleeping, so he grabbed his phone and stepped out of the room for a moment. He searched for Y/N’s contact and hovered over the number. He knew he had to end things and so, he dialed her number.

Though, when Joel answered, Negan was taken by surprise.

—

“Joel, I don’t have time for this fucking shit. Stop asking questions and just have Y/N call me back.”

Joel tightened his jaw. “Y’know, I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Ya heard me, Negan.” Joel replied. 

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Negan tightened his jaw, becoming increasingly angry. 

“Tell me what?”

“How we’ve been talking, hanging out…” Negan was now determined to get under the other man’s skin. All he wanted was to tell Y/N that he had some things he needed to handle and that he wasn’t going to be available as much. It was the decent thing to do rather than just completely ignore her entirely. 

“You’re lying,” Joel replied. “You mean nothin’ to her.” Joel heard his laugh and he stood from the couch, feeling his anger bubble inside of him. 

“I think that’s debatable,” Negan replied. 

“You ain’t a good man, Negan. I know the likes of you and you ain’t good,” Joel commented. 

“And what about you, Joel? You a good man?” Negan retaliated. 

Joel tightened his jaw. He couldn’t answer that. He knew he had his fair share of disappointments and regrets, so instead of answering his question, Joel replied with, “Just leave her alone.”

“Oh-ho!” Negan replied. “You may think we’re different, Joel, but guess what? I think we’re the fucking same.”

“You don’t know me,” Joel said through gritted teeth. 

“Joel?” He heard Y/N’s voice and looked over at her, still holding her phone against his ear. “Who’s that?”

Joel didn’t respond, but instead put it on speaker. 

“Doll?” Negan called out, his voice filtering the living room.

Y/N cleared her throat. She looked over at Joel and noticed the look of hurt across his features. Immediately, she felt guilty and walked towards him, taking the phone from his hand. She didn’t say anything to him, but instead walked to her bedroom and removed the phone from the speaker.

“Negan, what are–”

“I just– I need to tell you something.”

“Are you okay?”

“We can’t keep doing this,” he admitted. “I just– I have some things I need to take care of and I can’t fully be there for you.”

“I don’t– Negan…” Surprisingly, Y/N felt her heart break a little at the thought of her life without Negan. She had gotten used to their daily conversations, his humor, and his presence. 

“I gotta go, doll. Take care, okay?”

Y/N didn’t have time to respond before he hung up. She sighed, her mind drifting to Negan before a knock on her bedroom door pulled her out of her trance. Then, she remembered that Joel was still here. Once she opened the door, Joel looked down at her with a tightened jaw and narrowed eyes.

“Looks like we’ve got some things to talk about, darlin’.”

Y/N sighed, not looking directly at Joel. He took notice of this and sighed, pocketing his hands into his pants. 

“Joel, I–”

“Is this not what you want?” He asked. 

“No, it is! I just–”

He shook his head. He couldn’t believe that the moment he put himself out there, she wasn’t fully interested. Joel knew it was too good to be true. He was meant to be alone.

“Why are you still talkin’ to Negan?”

“He’s become a good friend.”

Joel scoffed. “A friend? You really think I’m that stupid?”

“Joel…”

“Stop lyin’ to me, darlin’, and just tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know what I want…” she admitted. “I’ve had a crush on you for so long, Joel… So long and you never noticed, at least not until you saw that Negan was interested in me, so why don’t you tell me why that is?”

Joel tightened his jaw. Just a moment ago, he was sharing an intimate moment with her and now they were upset with each other. He kept his eyes on her, thinking about what Negan said about him not being a good man. He was right. Y/N deserved better than him.

“Seeing you with Negan made me jealous,” Joel admitted. “And I wanted what he had… You.”

“But why Negan? Why did it take him for you to say anything?”

Joel didn’t have an answer for that. Maybe it was the fact that the other man was probably the same age as him, or maybe it was because Negan was right. 

They both were similar after all.

“I don’t know, damn it!” He exclaimed, taking a deep breath and stepping back. “I don’t know.”

“If you never met Negan, would you have asked me out on a date?” Y/N asked hesitantly. “Would you have even made a move?”

Joel bit his lower lip. “I don’t know,” he repeated. 

“Joel…”

“No, okay? I wouldn’t have asked you out” he lied. “But–”

Y/N felt her heart break even more. First Negan and now Joel. 

“I think you should go…”

“Darlin’, wait…”

“Joel, I just want to be alone.”

Joel didn’t want to fight anymore. Instead, he nodded and walked towards the front door. He pulled on his boots and looked over his shoulder to see Y/N standing nearby. She looked like she was about ready to cry and Joel wanted nothing more than to just pull her into his arms and tell her the truth.

But he was scared.

He didn’t want to get hurt.

He didn’t want to tell her that Negan was the wakeup call he needed to realize just how deeply he felt for her. 

Joel also didn’t want to admit to himself that he had fallen for her long before he even asked her out on a date.

“Darlin’...” he called out. “I’m sorry.”

---

Part 6.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged!): @kaitebugg03, @a-girl-interupted​, @igotbasicdrag, @darkshadow6200

[matchaelette]

GIF from pinterest

when your moods are swinging from the pilllars of hell but jeon jungkook is an angel sent from heaven

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, in short we get to see the fluffy pancake jungkook today and what an absolute angel he can be while ash is going through her monthly mood swings. the gif upstairs is the look we're going for in the last scene

genre: fluff, angst, does crappy writing count as a genre?

warning: period and mood swings. anyone going through it right now has my sympathies.

word count: 2.5k

notes: look who's back from the ded :D so today I accidentally broke this mug I bought three days ago, and I cried the entire morning cause we got attached okay??? and there was my mother, yelling at me about how careless I am and I just... wished someone would give me a hug. did someone give me a hug? no. but did I skip everything to spend an entire day writing? yes. enjoy.

p.s. she went out and got me the same mug again afterwards :/

“fuck!”, your loud voice echoes through the house, leaving a large trace of the irrecoverable panic you felt in the air as you stared expressionlessly at the floor.

“fuck”, the second wave of panic hits, this time with the fear and realization of what you have just done, “no no no no. no fuck—”

scattered pieces of broken items litter the floor in front of you. you may have accidentally dropped them from your hands while carrying them over to the sofa but you could’ve just thrown them from the tallest floor of a skyscraper and had the same effect. it was hard to make a sense of what they might have been before. a gray headset, splintered like eggshells. a game controller, all its colorful buttons scattered around like skittles. jungkook’s once favorite iPad— shards of screen once glass— disintegrated into dust.

no.

what have I done?

your legs give out and you crumble dramatically down on your knees into the floor. for a whole minute, you’re tempted to put the remnants of what you knew as jungkook’s “brand new gaming babies” back into the tv tray table, right where it was before. you wanted to fake innocence, a dozen excuses already flying through your brain.

they were already broken before I decided to clean it. are you sure you didn’t buy it like this, kook? you might have accidentally broken them while unpacking last night, you just didn’t notice it before. the neighbor’s child came over and she just—

“what the fuck?”, you whisper, heart bursting through your ribcage. it takes you a while to realize that the shock of the impact left you crying, tasting the salt on your tongue. you use your dirty hands to roughly wipe them off.

don’t fucking cry, you don’t deserve it, you bite your lips to stop a new wave of tears and wrap your arms around your shaking frame, you’re not a toddler, ash. stop crying and be a responsible adult for once.

maybe you could still fix them?

“what is wrong with me? why do I keep doing shit like this?”, you stammer, shaky hands reaching forward helplessly to grab pieces of the game controller in vain. it’s not fixable, you shake your head, letting a sob out unconsciously. no, because, how could you do this?

period is a bitch and it was sucking the living lights out of you.

you had no idea how you were gonna go through the rest of this week without evaporating into thin air, and it was only the second day. so, when jungkook appeared in your shared apartment that night with his hands full of white boxes wrapped in plastic sheets, hoping like an over-enthusiastic bunny, you sighed and quietly prayed for some well-needed strength.

“hi princess!”, he chirps pleasantly.

“hello kook”, you grin softly when he approaches you and pecks your lips. no matter how weary you were, none of it mattered when it came to being with the boy you were madly in love with. jungkook, oblivious to your exhaustion, grabs your hands and pulls you toward the living room. he drops everything on the carpeted tiles and leans back against the couch.

“tea?” you sit on the sofa, offering him your baby blue mug while he nuzzles his face against your leg. he breathes in the faint scent of lavender when you hold the mug close to his face and takes a satisfied gulp.

you can’t help but smile fondly as jungkook goes limp against your legs. you set the mug on the side table and pad your fingers through his messy hair, trying to disentangle the locks. he closes his eyes and leans onto your touch.

“looks like someone got their paycheck today”, you grin, pointing at the brand-new boxes of mystery.

jungkook, eyes still closed, breaks out into an impish smile, “remember those gaming equipment I was showing you a few nights ago?”

“you mean, that night you made me orgasm three times? and then immediately started showing me gaming items on your phone before you even cleaned me up?”, you say drily, “yes, I think I remember.”

“oh my god ssh! don’t talk about the beautiful moments in life with that attitude”, jungkook looks scandalized by your choice of words but handles it with practiced ease, “but yes! I just got those! my brand-new gaming babies!”

you laugh, “so i’ve got competition?”

“naur babe!”, his head falls in your lap and he widens his eyes with a pout, “now we can stay up and play all those games we wanted to! remember? you can obliterate all the zombies you want and I can make my pizzeria fantasies come true!”

“sure thing, babe”, you pat his head fondly, “did you have dinner?”

“I stopped by jiminie hyung’s place and we had ramen. did you eat? I can cook something.”

“I had a sandwich”, you lie. you don’t have an appetite and you don’t want jungkook to go inside the kitchen at this hour, “how about you play with your toys?”

and this is how the rest of the night goes. you keep your mood swings in check and in control, sitting on the couch and watching your adorable boyfriend. jungkook diligently reading the instruction manual. jungkook sprawled on the floor like a starfish. jungkook setting up all the gadgets around the tv set. jungkook finishing the rest of your lavender tea. jungkook carrying you to the bedroom when you unintentionally fall asleep.

“babe, is it absolutely necessary to do these toda-”, jungkook winces when he catches your eyes, “okay. i’ll keep my mouth shut.”

sunlight pools in on the floor you stand on, illuminating you in all your glory. you have your hair pulled back into a sleek bun, dressed like a soldier about to enter a battlefield, sporting a panty and one of jungkook’s old shirts. the weapons for this impending battle were the vacuum cleaner by your side and a bucket full of cleaning essentials— like scrubs, mops, liquid cleaners— stuff you weren’t even sure what they were called.

you woke up with an unbearable ache in your body this morning. pain blossomed from your neck down to your spine, erupting like a volcano in your core. you weren’t new to this feeling, but no matter how much you went through it every month, the pain still felt fresh and unworn. even so, you might’ve been okay, might’ve handled it as gracefully as possible. but seeing the bed beside you empty with faint traces of your boyfriend, made you insufferable throughout the morning.

after you picked yourself up and took a warm shower, you discovered your boyfriend yelling in the living room. he was parading about the room with his vr headsets on, swearing loudly at random players and blasting gunfire and depressing noises from the speakers.

you have been in a terrible mood ever since.

but the dam only broke when you both sat down to eat the strawberry pancakes jungkook made for breakfast.

“i’m gonna deep clean the entire house today”, you declared on the breakast table, pouring an inappropriate amount of strawberry syrup on your pancakes.

“you can’t even stand”, jungkook laughed, “okay, no, you can’t even sit straight.”

and that’s how it began.

after hours of I don’t wanna see your face, take your pancakes and leave! and babe, please forgive me, let me clean the house for you!, here you guys were, jungkook concerned as hell for your health and you being a stubborn, disobedient child. were you being petty and mean? yes. did you care? no.

“can I do anything?”, you could hear the desperation in his voice. menstruating always built an extra wall around you, you could sense how worried jungkook was for you, but you couldn’t understand it.

“no-pe. i’ll start with the living room. get out of my way.”

“okay. i’ll clean the tv and my gaming equipment after you’re done then.”

your eyes flashed with anger, “oh, so I am not allowed to touch your things?”

“wait, what? I never said that! it’s just—”, jungkook rushes in your direction, unsure if he should continue the sentence or not.

“it’s just what?”

“it’s just— okay, fine! you just seem way too angry! i’m concerned about you but i’m concerned about those too”, he gestured towards the tv tray, desperately trying not to piss you off, “babe, you can clean whatever you like! just— just calm down a bit before you clean our gadgets!”

wrong choice of words.

“calm down? you’re asking me to calm down?”, you shrieked, “you—”

“you might accidentally take your anger out on those poor little harmless things!”, impatience flashes in his eyes as he tries to reason with you.

“the only ‘thing’ I wanna take my anger out on right now is yo—”

“you know what? do whatever you want”, jungkook raises his hands in defeat, “i’ll go take a shower. consider me officially out of your way.”

jungkook was still in the shower.

you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes attempting to repair the things you broke with futile efforts. your hands had several cuts, and streaks of blood were now trickling onto the floor. it wasn’t like the objects were just snapped into two, it was all broken and ruined beyond repair. you couldn’t fix them. all you could do was face jungkook and tell him that you broke his beloved things, specifically after he told you not to touch them and you yelled at him.

if this was the universe’s way of punishing you, it was harsh. because it wasn’t only you who was punished. it was jungkook as well, and he did not deserve it.

no, what he deserves and needs to do asap, was move out and find a better girlfriend. you wouldn’t blame him.

“how could I do this? how could I just—”, your whisper was shaky as you stared blankly, “— casually drop everything from my hands?”

after the tantrum you threw, you’re not sure jungkook will believe you broke it accidentally. even you weren’t quite believing yourself right now. how could someone drop an armful of goods on the ground and they just implode? unintentionally?

it appeared highly intentional to you.

“but I swear—”, you sob, “I really didn’t mean to.”

a sound from the bedroom makes you jump up with alarm. it’s been more than an hour since jungkook entered the shower, and you’re scared he’s been there for such a long time only to stay out of your way and avoid your wrath.

you had to face him, didn’t you? you had to face him and explain what you had done. and then, when he decides to hate you for the rest of your life, you’re sure you’ll hate yourself more; and when he decides never to forgive you, you’re sure you’ll never forgive yourself either.

“shit”, you mumble, stumbling towards your bedroom with shaky legs. you wipe your tears on the sleeve of the shirt and take a deep breath to stop the sobs racking through your body.

you just have to tell him, you inhale, you just have to tell him and then you can fling yourself off the building, exhale, don’t you fucking cry. you’re not manipulating him with your tears.

jungkook doesn’t notice you when you enter the room. he is looking for a comfortable t-shirt, clothed only in his favorite pair of shorts, hair tousled with water. the entire room exuded his distinct scent of peach and baby soap. you take a moment, watching him put a black hoodie over his head before drawing his attention toward you.

“kook?”

he wheels around when he hears your voice, blank gaze evolving into a wide smile in a fraction of a second when he realizes it’s you.

“hi babe”, he takes confident strides towards you, “are you still mad at me? I promise I was just worried for—”

“kook”, you beg, panicking when his gaze fixes on your hands, “listen to me.”

“is that—”,jungkook’s eyes pop out, “—blood on your hands?!”

“kook, that’s not the point”, you choke out when he grabs your bloody hands, completely bewildered, “please listen—”

“why are you bleeding?!”

“jungkook, please! I— I accidentally broke the gaming stuff you got last night”, this time you can’t keep your tears at bay. you’re close to bawling as he looks at you, panic-stricken, gripping your hands and trying to make sense of what is happening.

“and non— not justthose—”, your sobs are now muddled with your sentences, and jungkook freezes when you finish, “I al- also broke your iPad. the screen— its ggone and i’m so so ssorry—”

you can’t keep your eyes open when you get a look at jungkook’s face. he stands there frozen, impassive, and motionless, holding your hands and staring at the mess of you.

“i’ll never forgive myself for what happened”, you breathe through your mouth, sniffing, “I swear I didn’t mean to—”

your words are cut off abruptly when jungkook pulls you in a hug.

“ssh, it’s okay”, he holds your head firmly with one hand while securing the other around your waist, “nobody died, it’s okay.”

it takes you a few seconds to comprehend what’s going on. when you do, you burst into more violent sobs this time, clutching jungkook’s shoulder wildly.

“hey. hey. it’s alright, okay?” he rocks your body from side to side, “it’s just a few things, princess. why are you crying like this?”

“hell, jungkook, don’t— don’t be so—”, you whimper against his chest, “don’t be so understanding! scream at me for fuck’s sake!”

“yes, I will”, he pries you away from himself, eyes full of concern and distress, “you. you idiot. you’re crying over a few things you broke? and you completely destroy your hands over that? are you nuts?!”

“you loved them. you were—”, you moan, “—so excited. and it was so expensive.”

“it’s just a few things, princess, not the end of the world!”, jungkook kisses the top of your head, “yes, I liked them. yes, some money’s been wasted. but is it worth more than you? hell no! look at you, you’re shaking—you’re absolutely terrified! why!?”

it takes a long time for jungkook to calm you down. he rocks your body in silence the whole time, resting his chin on the top of your head, gently rubbing your back in soothing circles, and urging you to breathe. you stay limp against his body; tired, upset, guilty.

“i’m so sorry”, you mumble after a while.

“it was just an accident. it’s really, really okay.”

“you’re way too forgiving”, you mutter against his chest, “I would’ve accidentally broken you if the roles were reversed.”

“you break me every time you cry anyways. now, let me see those hands?”

[loveandmurders]

I fucking love your Ambrose sister Hc<33

but I’m in the mood for something sad because I’ve been down a bit

Bo Sinclair who had a horrible, atrocious, fight with his sister to a point he said “I Wish you Were Never Born”

And the reader just leaves the house crying and doesn’t return for weeks and everyone in the Ambrose house is worried because she isn’t home. Then some fluff in the end<33

I had i fight like this with my own brother I didn’t come back home for 2 months, but now we’re all good <3

If you feel uncomfortable doing this request ignore it!!

Love ur content sm have a great day 🫶🏽🫶🏽💕

Hello love, I'm really happy you are enjoying this AU <3 I also hope you'll feel better soon <3 Honestly I got carried away with that request because it was something I already wanted to write (thank you for having given me the right excuse to do so). So it'll be in 2 parts, and the fluff will only be at the end of the second part.

I really hope you'll enjoy this very angsty writing <3

And if you want to check more of this AU or my other fics, my masterlist is here. To understand better this fic, you should go check the Sinclair sister headcanons!

I WISH I WAS BETTER FOR YOU (Part I)

Warnings: Bo being really angry and toxic to Vincent and you, pure angst, some strong words, morally grey reader.

You knew it wasn’t going to be a very nice day when you woke up and Bo and Vincent were already arguing in the kitchen. Bo would usually calm down once you would sit down at the table to take your own breakfast, but he didn’t even acknowledge you this morning. You didn’t try to understand what was going on; you could tell Bo was just feeling a lot worse than usual and therefore he needed to let go of his anger in a way or another. You were used to him bursting in anger like that, but it wasn’t that often that he would yell and be so mad for such a long period of time. In the end, you barely ate and quickly did the dishes before disappearing. It wasn’t nice to leave Vincent alone with Bo, you knew it, but there wasn’t much you could do and the situation was upsetting you. You hoped there would be some tourists today so he could hurt them instead of screaming at his own siblings. The only proof he loved his family was that it never ended in physical abuse, but the insults and all were already too much. You didn’t want to believe he was toxic, even though you knew he was. At the same time, it wasn’t like your brothers had the healthiest way to earn money and you couldn’t even pretend to be disgusted: you didn’t care about the tourists they killed. You just wanted your family to be happy and Bo to feel better.

You couldn’t believe that a few nights ago, when it was only Vincent and you in his basement, you had been talking about living all the time at Ambrose. You had found a new job, not so far from there so it would be alright to do the travel everyday. Vincent had been quite excited about the idea and he had tried very hard to convince you to let go of your flat and to live with them. He was certain things would be so much better that way. He added that you were spending all your weekends there anyways, and most of your evenings. You could always go to your friends' houses if you needed to stay out of town for work or a party. There were also a lot of hotels around. And if something happened with Bo, you could always take possession of one of the abandoned houses lying around Ambrose. Vincent even promised you he would remove the wax statues that might be in the house you picked, so it wouldn’t creep you out. You noticed that if Vincent wasn’t as direct as Bo, the man was also craving to have his whole family under the same roof. You wondered if it was because he thought things would be easier with Bo or if it was because he also was a family man (to a lesser extent than Bo). Anyways you were slowly thinking it might be a good idea to move back in.

The night before you even decided to announce this news the next morning, and Vincent had felt he had been very close to convincing you. But the ambiance and yelling changed your mind right away. And when Vincent saw you leaving the kitchen without a word, he knew it. He silently cursed Bo for having fucked this up. They had been so close to having their favourite baby sister home with them. They could have hoped to have Lester a lot more often there as well. But Bo was too full of rage to notice anything else today. His chest was heavy. He couldn’t really tell what was wrong, maybe too many things, he just felt very bad and he couldn’t quiet down his anger. It was a vicious circle: the angrier he was, the worst he felt, and the angrier he was getting. Plus, his siblings were family, so he didn’t think either of you would turn your back to him, no matter what he could do to you. He was wrong.

You had been very quiet today and when Vincent came to you in order to know if you were still up to stick around, even if he already knew the answer, you simply shook your head. It really saddened him; he understood, of course he did, but he needed you around. He hugged you before leaving to go to work. He didn’t want to make you feel guilty so he promised himself he wouldn’t say anything anymore about it. He just hoped you would change your mind soon again. At the same time, you were indeed quite upset with yourself but you didn’t want to live like that. You even sent a little message to let Lester know that today wasn’t a good day and that it would be a good idea if he could find some tourists to send to Ambrose. Lester instantly replied he was going to do his best and that if you wanted he could come get you and drive you back to your flat. 

You really didn’t think you would have to ask him that; you wanted to be strong for your brothers. You knew that leaving would make things even worse with Bo, but in the end, he really hadn’t given you the choice…

Lester hadn’t found any tourists that day and Bo was really on edge. Vincent and you were trying your best to stay away from him. You were on the couch of the living room, reading and minding your own business. You jumped when the front door violently opened. Bo was in the room in no time, clearly bored and still very upset. He needed someone to abuse or he would go crazier. You weren’t used to him being abusive with you though, so you weren’t afraid of him.

“What’s wrong Bo?” you finally asked because you couldn’t bear the situation any longer. He sent you a dirty look, which was rare. He was always softer when it was about you, because you were his baby sister. But today he wasn’t in a good enough mood to remember to be kinder with you.

“Don’t know, maybe havin’ a lazy stupid sister who ain’t helpin’ with anythin’ in the house” he snapped and you frowned. You would never let him talk to you like that.

“What did ya say?” you asked as you put your book down and stood up. “I cleaned up ‘round! Plus it’s the weekend, if I wanted I could be away from here.”

“Oh thank ya my lady for honourin’ us of your presence” he replied with a tone full of mockery and anger.

“I can fuckin’ leave if that’s what ya want!” you exclaimed

“Don’t give a fuck of what ya’re doin’! Ya’re useless bitch, always has been anyways” he continued.

“Oh yeah? Well sorry for botherin’ ya then!” you were getting angrier as well because his words were hurting you more than you wanted to admit it. It was slicing deep into your heart and own insecurities. You were trying to believe he wasn’t thinking any of what he said. You knew Bo could throw things at your face and barely remembered what he said once he was calming down. Or maybe he did remember and acted as if it was nothing, because he didn’t truly mean it and he had no idea what to do to make things better or to apologise. Either way you knew it would be better once he would feel better. And hopefully it would be sooner rather than later.

“Ya’re a fuckin’ burden, ya know that? Ain’t aroun’ when ya’re needed, ain’t doin’ nothin’ when ya’re finally here. Don’t even know why ‘m tryin’ to get ya here when ya’re not. Would live better without ya!” he wasn’t yelling anymore, his voice was oddly calm while helding pure rage and hatred into it. He never talked to you that way before and it sobered you up from your own anger. You wanted to beg Bo to stop saying that kind of thing. You loved your brothers more than anything, and they were the only people truly able to hurt you. You stayed silent for a few instants, which was never happening when you were arguing with Bo. Usually, the whole house could hear the two of you and you would only stop by storming away from each other. But it was different, you were standing in front of him, tears in the eyes, your heart aching like never before. What would you do if the only people you truly loved didn’t want you anymore ?

“Is that really what ya think of me?” you asked him and you truly hoped he would calm down, and hugged you and told you that of course not, that he didn’t know why he said this when he loved you so much… 

But he didn’t.

“Wish ya were never fuckin’ born” he replied just at the moment of the basement door was cracking open. Vincent had been surprised by how quiet your argument with Bo had become so he was checking on the two of you. He heard his twin’s last words and it broke his heart. It broke it even more when he heard you started to cry. You ran away from Bo, ashamed to cry in front of him, and feeling pathetic and weak. You slammed the front door behind you as you continued to run away from the house now. You grabbed your phone and you dialled Lester’s number. You needed to be away from Ambrose.

Hey, darl, what’s up? Even hearing Lester’s voice didn’t bring you as much comfort as usual. You were a mess. You were trying very hard to not fully collapse here; you needed to be alone in your flat to cry to your heart's content and then to calm down.

“Come get me, please” you pleaded through a shaky voice.

What’s goin’ on? Lester asked, panicking as he could hear how terrible you were feeling. You heard his truck going faster.

“Just Bo bein’ an asshole” you replied as you sent a glance toward the house. Bo didn’t make you cry a lot in your life, but the few times it happened he was instantly softening up and trying his best to make it up to you. Usually, he couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you… This time, he didn’t even run after you. Maybe he was truly believing his words. Maybe you were a burden to him and he was fed up with seeing you around because you were useless. Maybe he didn’t love you anymore. You didn’t bring him any kind of happiness anymore. You were glad you hadn’t given your flat back, it was the only good thing in this whole story.

‘M sure he’ll come get ya in a few seconds, Lester replied, he knew how much Bo was adoring you.

“He won’t. Told me he wished I never existed ya know.” you told him and your voice broke then. Lester stayed silent because he couldn’t believe Bo would say something like that to you. To him or to Vincent, alright, but to you… You were off limits.

On my way, darl, almost there. He finally said and you whispered a thank you before hanging up.

You waited five minutes, alone. You sent another glance at the house and you saw Vincent and Bo arguing in the living room. It was getting pretty violent, but you didn’t care. You were aching way too much to come back and stop them. You were so relieved when Lester arrived and he jumped off his truck to rush to you. He tightly hugged you and gently rocked you as you cried into his chest. After a little while, he guided you to his truck and helped you climb into it. He was quick to leave Ambrose, his heart aching for you. You were softly sniffing, your eyes on your lap. You couldn’t remember having felt so bad your whole life… because usually, when something was wrong, your brothers were there for you.

“I’ll never come back” you whispered and Lester sent you a worried look.

“Don’t say that, darl.” he whispered back as he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently stroked your skin. “Bo ain’t knowin’ what he’s sayin’. He’s gonna call ya in the middle of the night, beggin’ ya to come back home, like he always does.” he told you and you softly nodded, hoping Lester would be right.

The thing was that Bo didn’t call you. 

You hadn’t been able to sleep that night, staring at your phone with a heavy heart painfully beating inside your chest. Your stomach was a knot and your throat as well. You needed this call more than anything; it was as if your life was depending on it. You needed Bo to ask you to come back home, because if he didn’t, you wouldn’t. And it was breaking you even more to think you wouldn't have a home anymore then. Your flat wasn’t your home, it was just an easy place to go to work and to see friends, that was all. Your life was in Ambrose, by your brothers’ sides. But if they didn’t want you anymore, what would be left of you? You would just be pretending to live, when your soul and heart would be so far away from you. You needed Bo to tell you he still loved you. You weren’t sure you would be able to forgive him, but at least it meant you could come back home, at least to see Vincent.

You finally fell asleep and when you opened your eyes, at 8 o’clock, you had no missing call. You cried even more. Your whole body was bursting in sadness and despair. What were you going to do now? You continued to cry for hours, until you felt empty and that there were no tears left inside of you. You cuddled in your bed and you tried to calm down. Bo was a big part of your life, but if he didn't want you anymore, you could only obey. You could still easily see Lester, but Vincent…

As you thought about the masked twin, you received a message from him.

Sorry for yesterday… I should have been there for you, I should have kept Bo away from you. I promise you it won’t happen again. Bo is calmer today. He asked me how you were doing. I think he feels quite guilty about what happened. Can you come back home today?

You had no idea how many times you read that message over and over again. You knew Vincent could be very manipulative, maybe even more than Bo. You weren’t certain if he was only saying those things so you would come back home, or if Bo truly felt “guilty” about it. But it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted him to be sorry, you wanted him to tell you he loved you, you wanted him to tell you he didn’t mean what he said. He hurt you like he never did before. He didn’t call you. And now it was Vincent who was trying to put the pieces back together?

No. You were heartbroken and hurt and homesick already, but you couldn’t come back and pretend that nothing happened. You needed Bo to do something about it and to make you feel better.

Bo made it pretty clear he didn’t want me at Ambrose, have a good day Vincent.

You never sent such a harsh message to your brothers before but you also had traumas, just like Bo, and yet, you would never hurt them like Bo hurt you. You loved them, and Bo didn’t love you. Vincent didn’t answer you, probably at loss and silently wondering what he could do to make things back to normal.

But there was nothing he could do, and he knew it.

PART II

Taglist:

@6-6-6-riddler

@feathery-ass

[callsigndragon]

A Rebel In My Soul | Chapter 7: Six-feet's never felt so far

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Mitchell!Reader

Word count: 5k (told you it was long)

Warnings: okay so you've read the title. it's about Iceman's funeral. swearing, fluff, mentions of someone wanting to have kids (idk), drunk rooster, alcohol, mentions of rebel's mom (it's sad, i can't say more bc spoilers), mentions of Carole's passing, mention of terminal illness (unknown bc it's never said in the movie), mentions of period, several mentions of death, DEATH OF A MAIN CHARACTER, lots of crying, angst, lots of angst. i cried writing this chapter. Hangman's pov again.

Summary: Y/N "Rebel" Mitchell is one of the best aviators of her generation. She grew up hearing the adventures and stories of Maverick, her father, that he used as bedtime stories. She became an aviator with her best friend Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and now both of them have to come back to the Top Gun Academy for an important mission. Only the best of the best is called for this mission, including the southern idiot called Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Both of you had hated each other since day one. Now, having to work together once more, you count the days for this mission to be over, not only to never see Hangman again, but to also cut all connections again with your father.  

Taglist: @theprettytragic @thatoneweirdhorsegirl913 @shrimping-for-all @inky-sun @popcrone818 @blue-aconite @milestellerwife @chaoticassidy @smoothdogsgirl @nemtodd-barnes1923 @bregarc @alanadetigy @starkleila @plutotcles @bradleysgirl

(If you want to be tagged comment here or send me an ask)

IMPORTANT A/N: I'M REALLY SORRY FOR ALL THE SAD FEELINGS YOU'RE GONNA HAVE WHILE READING THIS. I sobbed while writing it. I wasn't sure if I was gonna write Iceman's death or make him live but I needed this for the development of Fahrenheit's character (special thanks to @blue-aconite, for commenting my previous post about the character's call sign).

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After all the events from the day, the only thing you want is to take a long, relaxing shower. Once you get home, you see Rooster’s Bronco and hear some loud music coming from the inside. You open the door, taking off your shoes and walking inside to see your friend weightlifting in the homemade gym you and Rooster organized in the corner of the living room. He’s covered in sweat, jaw clenched and eyes fixated on the wall. Rooster’s in a bad mood.  

“Hey, I'm back” you speak a bit louder than the music coming from the speakers. He leaves the dumbbells on the floor and turns off the music.  

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I saw you running out of the room but I had to make sure that they were okay” he explains, coming closer to you and hugging you.  

“Don’t worry. I understand. Someone had to be there” you pat his back. “I saw them in the infirmary. They’re okay”  

“Yeah, I was there when they got in. They’re okay” 

“...why do you smell like Bag man?”  

You tense a bit in his arms. Shit, you should’ve taken it off when you got home. “Mine was wet and I had to drive so...” 

“Well, he’s sharp, at least.” He strokes your hair, still a bit wet. “I saw you in the locker room with him. He told me to leave”  

You move your head back enough to look up at him. “He kicked you out?” you question, surprised by what your friend is telling. He nods, moving to seat on the sofa.  

“Yeah, he didn’t talk but he gave me a look like saying ‘I got this, leave’” you sit next to him. “Was he nice?”  

“Yeah, Roos. He helped me. He’s a good guy when he wants to” 

He looks at you, frowning and bouncing his leg up and down. “What?”  

“Y/n, I think he’s trying to make a move here” Rooster explains, voice low as if his words were a secret.  

“I mean, I suspected something. He’s been trying to act nice with me, he apologized every time he fucked up and went out of his way to get me a coffee this morning.” you smile a little at the thought.  

Rooster groans and it scares you a little. “I’m gonna get out of here because if I have to see that smile again, I will throw up” says Rooster while moving to his room. You follow him, unsure of why your friend is acting like this.  

“What’s wrong with my smile?” you question, getting close to him with your hands on your hips. 

“You’re falling in love with Bag man”  

“I-I am not falling in love with him” you retort back instantly. A tiny part of your heart knows that he’s telling the truth. But admitting to be in love with someone is something really scary. You don’t think you’re ready for that.  

“Look into my eyes and tell me I'm lying”  

You stare at him, knowing well that awful at stare duels. You usually last very little time because Rooster has such an intense stare that you have to look away. However now you can’t even look at him in the eye. He grins, celebrating his victory.  

“I’m taking your bike” he says while entering his room and closing the door to get changed.  

“Leave your keys so I can take the Bronco later!” you say moving to your room. Rooster opens his door, shirtless, looking at you with a suspicious expression.  

“...where are you going?”  

“Everyone is meeting to celebrate that Phoenix and Bob are okay. I just came to take a shower” 

“Oh yeah, that’s right” he turns to leave but it’s stopped by your next words.  

“Jake told me to meet there later”  

“I knew it! You’re meeting with Bag man. Wait did you say Jake?”  

“It’s his name” you shrug.  

“You never call him by his name”  

“Well and he has never helped me through a panic attack before but here we are! Maturing and forgiving. We should learn a few things about that”  

He rolls his eyes. “Next thing you know, she’s inviting Maverick to her wedding with Bag man” he says, leaving the room to get his shirt and the car keys. He comes back, throws you his keys and leaves saying something along the lines of “please use protection, I don’t need to have a mini–Bag man running around”  

You go straight to the shower. The hot water relaxes your body but your mind is working faster than ever. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt something like this before. It’s a strange feeling, however. It's a new, warm and tender feeling but, at the same time, it feels familiar. As if it has always been there. It had been growing with the years, until it was big enough for you (and everyone else) to notice it.  

It’s always been him; it seems.  

You can’t lie to yourself anymore. There’s a feeling there. Call it whatever you want, but it’s there and it gets only stronger by the minute.  

You don’t realize how much time you’ve been until the water turns cold and it pull you out of your thoughts. You get out, put on a towel and grab the brush to untangle your messy hair.  

You find yourself thinking again about him. Well, about his body. How he hugged you, the tone, muscular arms that engulfed you in, how he applied the right amount of pressure to stop your terrible shaking-self.  

You look at your bed, Jake’s jacket laying in its full glory. You are tempted to wear it again, just to see his reaction. Maybe with that beautiful sundress that it’s been hanging on your closet for a while now. And some sneakers. Yeah, cute outfit.  

After drying your hair and applying some light make up, you get dressed and grab Rooster’s car keys, ready to leave. You hop in the car, smiling when the smell of Jake’s jacket fills your nostrils.  

Yeah, you’re completely head over heels for him.  

When you get to the Hard Deck, however, you smile fades away. Coyote and Hangman are trying to get a very drunk Rooster from the floor. He’s only been here for an hour; how did he get so drunk?  

“Rooster?” you come closer to the three men and he giggles when his intoxicated mind realizes who you are.  

“Reeeeeebel you’re so pretty tonight. Oh my god, are you wearing make up?” he asks with slurred words.  

“How did he end up like this?” you look at Jake, who has a sorrowful expression.  

“Tequila” answers Coyote. “He got here and asked for the whole bottle. He said he had argued with Maverick before and well...”  

“Oh gosh. I’m so sorry. Can you guys take him to the car? I’ll drive him home”  

“I don’t wanna go hooome” whines Rooster while hugging Coyote. Poor guy.  

You move closer to Jake. “I’m sorry I have to leave so soon...”  

“Y/n, it’s not your fault”  

Coyote looks at the both of you, smiling because his friend is having a normal conversation with you. At last.  

“Hey, give me the car keys’ and I’ll get him home” offers Coyote.  

“He came with Fanboy” explains Jake, as if reading your mind. “He lives close to your house; he can let Rooster there”  

“Yeah, and I'll get home walking. It’s just a few minutes, I don’t mind. And you just got in, you should get a drink and enjoy the night. In fact, it’s the first time I've seen you with that dress and it looks really good on you. My friend here would be so glad if you stayed so he can watch you all night”  

Your eyes widen and you look at Jake who is shooting daggers to Coyote. If looks could kill...  

“Okay, then.” you give Coyote the keys and accompany them to the car. “Thank you so much, Coyote”  

“I would say it’s my pleasure but Hangman’s the only one here benefiting from this” he says while turning on the engine and leaving the both of you. Once you stop seeing the car, you realize something.  

“Rooster didn’t give me my keys”  

Jake snorts. “You two are like kids, I swear. Don’t worry, I’ll drive you home”  

You nod, linking your arm with his. “I’ll buy you a beer, then” 

“Only one more, though. I have to get the princess home safe and sound.” 

You hit his arm. “Shut up”  

“You look good in my jacket, darling” he whispers so close to you that you can feel his breath in your neck.  

“If you don’t shut up...”  

“Oh, but I like you all flustered” you hit him again, harder this time. “Auch! Okay, okay. I’ll stop” he laughs. 

After you get two beers, you go outside the noisy bar. The two of you sit on one of the benches. It’s dark outside, only a few lanterns here and there to light the area. The salty scent of the sea and the sound of breaking waves wrap you in a comfortable feeling. It's the kind of night in which secrets are revealed and feelings are confessed.  

“Rooster told me about Maverick.” confesses Jake while looking at the water. “He told me about the papers. He did it to him first, and then to his own daughter”  

“You can’t trust this man when he’s drunk. But yeah... Neither of us knows why. I have an idea, though. Because of a conversation I heard when I was a child” you tell him. First secret of the night.  

“You don’t have to talk about it, Y/n”  

“I need to. I’ve never told anybody about this” you state.  

“Then I’m all ears, sweetheart” he says, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“Carole, Rooster’s mom, said once that she didn’t want her son to become an aviator like his father” you let out the most well-kept secret of your life. You heard it when you were almost ten years old. But you couldn’t tell that to your best friend. He wanted to be like his father so bad... How could you tell him that his mom didn’t approve it?  

“You think that Maverick pulled his papers because of her?”  

“It’s just a hypothesis but it’s the best one I got over the years” you say, sipping from your beer. 

“But he got mad at him. Why did Maverick think that doing the same to you would have different results?” 

“Here’s the other part of the hypothesis: Carole didn’t want me to become an aviator either”  

“And why did she thought she had anything to say about it?”  

You smile, a bit sad at the thought of that part of your life that you’re going to trust him with. Only your closest friends know.  

“Carole raised me as her own daughter. My mother left me and Maverick when I was only two years old. I don’t even know her name”  

Jake leaves his beer on the table and grabs your hand in his. “I’m so sorry to hear that...”  

“Don’t be. When I was old enough to know about my mother, Maverick gave me a box full of pictures and things he had collected for me. I never opened it”  

“Why? Weren’t you curious to know about her?”  

“I didn’t want to know anything about a woman that thought it was okay to leave a two-year-old kid. If she didn’t want me, I wasn’t gonna want her either” you reveal. It was, probably, the easiest decision you had ever made. Not knowing her implied not having to know why did she left you, if she ever missed you. If she had another family.  

You didn’t want to know.  

“And Carole raised you and Rooster alone”  

“Yes, she did. I spent more time in her house than in mine. Maverick spent a few months taking care of me but he was called for another mission and Carole took care of me. And then another mission came. And another, and another... I don’t blame him, though. We know how this is. You don’t have a choice” you feel Jake’s thumb caressing your knuckles and your body shivers at the touch. “Carole raised me. She taught me how to braid my hair, everything related to periods, how to put make up on, how to walk on high heels... Well, I've never learned how to walk properly on those, actually.” you laugh.  

“She loved you like you were hers”  

“Bradley and I used to say that we were siblings. Everybody knew we weren’t but for us... we were. We were raised by the same woman”  

“And you lost her, too”  

You take a deep breath. Yeah. Rooster lost his mother, but you lost yours, too. And only God knows how much you miss her.   

“She became sick. It was really quick, actually. I don’t know if that’s better or worse. One day she was smiling and wearing beautiful dresses and then the next... she was gone” you don’t know when the first tear fell from your cheek, but Jake quickly wipes it away. He gets up and walks around the table to sit beside you and pull you close to him.  

You find yourself in Jake’s hugs for the second time today, but this one is warmer. You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek. Is steady and calm.  

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, Y/n” 

You hug him closer. “Life sucks, I guess. Now you have to tell me about your family. Spill the beans, cowboy”  

He chuckles and strokes your hair. “Well... Both my parents are alive. I have four sisters. I'm the only boy among the Seresin’s siblings. My older sister has two kids and I love them with my entire soul”  

You move your head back to look at him. “You’re the cool uncle?” 

He smiles shyly. “I love kids, okay? Tell anyone and I’ll deny it”  

“So you want to have kids”  

“A few, yeah. I want to raise them in my family’s ranch.”  

You stop hugging him, even if you don’t want to, because the position you two are in is hurting your neck. You move back a bit, Jake’s hand instantly moving to search your own. It’s like you two cannot stay away from the other.  

“You want kids. You know how to listen when your head is not up your ass. You’re a gentleman when you want to...” he laughs, shaking his head at your words. “Honestly, how are you single?”  

He looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. “Maybe I was waiting for the right person” he says, leaning closer, his eyes moving from yours to your lips.  

You move closer to him, your heartbeat so loud that you can hear it in your ears. “Did you find them?”  

He moves his hands to your cheeks, one thumb moving over your bottom lip. “Yeah, I did” he whispers, his breath fanning over your features. You close your eyes, ready to feel his lips on yours.  

And then the phone rings.  

You pull away with a groan, taking your phone out of your pocket. Maverick.  

“Okay, that’s the biggest timing I’ve ever seen” he laughs, getting his drink.  

“He never calls me. It must be important.” you press the green button on the screen. “Yes?” 

“Iceman’s gone”  

If a minute ago your heart was beating faster than ever, now it has completely stopped working. You freeze, unable to respond or do anything. Uncle Ice is gone? He said he was okay. Did he... did he lie to you?  

Of course, he did.  

“Y/n? Are you still there?” you hear Maverick talking to you but it sounds so far away your mind doesn’t really process it.  

The phone falls from your grip, Jake catches it before it falls to the ground. “Hey, are you okay?”  

“Hangman is that you?”  

“Yeah, sir. Rebel is here with me. She’s in shock. What did you tell her?”  

“Admiral Kazansky has passed away. It was like an uncle for Rebel.” 

“I understand, sir. I’ll take care of her” he hangs up, putting the phone in his pocket and moving you to his lap. “Come here, darling. You seem to be unable to catch a breath today.”  

“He told me he was okay... I wanted to v-visit him but I didn’t have time” you choke on your words, tears falling down your face. Jake inhales deeply and pulls you impossibly closer.  

“Let’s get you home, okay? I’ll stay with you if you need me” you nod, and he takes you to his car. He only stops holding you when he has to walk around the car to sit behind the wheel, but he grabs your hand after that.  

When you get home, you hear snores from Rooster’s room. You would give everything in the world to be asleep right now, but closing your eyes today will be difficult.  

“Let’s get you out of this dress, you’re cold” says Jake in a sweet tone. Honestly, if your poor heart survives today is because of him.  

Jake accompanies you to your room, making you sit on the bed while he moves around the room looking for everything you need. He comes back with an old hoodie and some shorts and leaves them on the bed. “This will make you feel warm in a minute. I’ll go to the bathroom to look out for something to clean your face. Call me when you’re changed, okay?”  

“Jake” you call his name, your voice hoarse for the second time today.  

“Yes, honey?”  

“Thank you. For everything. I owe you a big one”  

He kneels before you, taking your hands in between his. He brings one of them to his lips, leaving a kiss in your palm. “Hey, you don’t owe me anything. But I'll have one of those beautiful smiles if you insist”  

You smile a bit. It doesn’t reach your eyes, and Jake’s hand drops yours to caress your cheek. “He’s in a better place now, right?” you question, tears flooding your eyes.  

“I’m sure he is, sweetheart. He’s putting everyone in his place up there.”  

You nod, wiping your tears away. He kisses your forehead and goes to the bathroom. Every time he kisses you, your heart skips a beat. You wish you could enjoy that feeling, embrace it and also, deal with all the unsaid words between Jake and you. Because he said that you were the one. He really just poured his heart out there for you to take it, and what had you given him in return? Tears. You need to let him know in a way that you return his feelings, whatever they are. 

“I found your micellar water” he says, entering the room again once you got changed. He has two cotton pads on his hand, and you look at him wondering how the heck does he know what micellar water is.  

“You know about makeup?”  

“Four sisters, remember? I even went once in a midnight run to the store to buy some tampons” he says, pressing the cotton pad against your skin and removing your makeup.  

“You have the whole package” you say, closing your eyes. “Honestly, though. You’re too perfect”  

He stops cleaning your skin and scoffs. You open your eyes to look at him. “I’ve been a jerk half of my life. Too proud to even admit when I was wrong. I’m not that good”  

“Well, you’re good now” you say, this time you’re the one holding his hands. “You’re good for me. And that’s all that matters, Jake”  

He smiles a bit. “I want to kiss you so bad. But I’ll wait because I don’t want you to remember our first kiss in the future and bringing so many bad memories.”  

You sigh. “You’re really something else.” you get up, taking the cotton pads and throwing them to the bin. “You should go home and rest. I’ll see you at the funeral”  

“I’m not leaving you” Jake states.  

“But”  

“No buts. You need someone and the chicken nugget you have for a friend is completely passed out. I’m staying with you”  

“...did you just call Rooster chicken nugget?”  

“It’s McNuggie for me” he says with a serious voice.  

You burst into laughter. Honestly that’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard someone call him. Jake laughs too. You really needed to laugh a bit.  

“I’ll go to McNuggie’s room and get you some clothes.” you say, leaving your room to go to Rooster’s. He doesn’t even move when you open the door. You grab a t-shirt and some grey sweatpants from his closet and leave quickly, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Even though you know he won’t notice it.  

“Here. You can change in the bathroom”  

He nods and goes change. You hear Rooster’s phone ringing. It’s Maverick again delivering bad news? You grab your phone from the nightstand, where Jake left it before. Several messages from Phoenix and Bob, who knew about Iceman being the closest thing to an uncle you’ve ever had.  

You also see a message from Iceman’s daughter. Snowcone, as you and Rooster used to call her when she was little. She was like her father in many aspects, but she chose to be a WSO instead of a pilot. Her call sign is Fahrenheit. Their companions gave it to her after a few weeks in the academy. Everyone knew she was the Admiral’s daughter. And they also knew about Iceman, how he was cool and cold. But he melted every time his little girl did something that made him proud. Also, she is the warmest person you’ve ever met. You always thought that she and Rooster would end up together. You haven’t talk to her in a while, you thought she was away on a mission. Maybe she was just focusing on her father.  

You open Fahren’s conversation. It’s a short text. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush.  

Fahren: He wanted you to have a good memory of him, Reb. He knew he was dying and he didn’t want us around when the time came. He only let my mom be with him. You know how he was. Always taking care of his girls.  

You: This man... How’s your mom? 

Fahren: Relieved. Sad. Tired. She just wanted him to stop suffering. He did.  

You: It’s hard... You’ll be okay. Both of you.  

Fahren: I know. Rest. I know you haven’t had a good day.  

You: Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.  

Rooster busts into the room with teary eyes. Oh shit, Maverick told him.  

“I-it’s true? Uncle ice...”  

You nod and get up to hug him, your own tears falling again. Jake leaves the bathroom and sees the scene. In his mind, Jake is questioning how you two got such a bad luck in life.  

“Hangman? What are you wearing my clothes”  

“She was with me when Maverick called. I couldn’t leave her alone” explains Jake, moving closer to pat Rooster’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, Bradshaw.” 

He nods, wiping his tears. “Thanks, man. I’m going to make some coffee; do you guys want?”  

“Yeah, I don’t think I can get any sleep anyway” you admit, walking to the kitchen followed by the two men.  

The three of you sit quietly around the kitchen isle, every single one of you submerged in their own thoughts. The only sound in the room is the coffee machine heating up the brown liquid.  

“If someone told me that Hangman would be seated in my kitchen at midnight with my clothes on, I would have never believed them” says Rooster giving a mug to you and Jake.  

“It’s kinda weird I’ll give you that” retorts the other man. “Do you guys have good memories with the Admiral?”  

You look at Rooster, an instant smile spreading over. “Yeah... a lot” you tell.  

“You know his daughter is a WSO?” Rooster asks Jake and he nods. “We call her Snowcone. And the three of us were always causing havoc when the Kazanskys invited us for dinner. One time, this girl over here sneaked in the Admiral’s office and stole one folder that had ‘Top Secret’ in big red letters”  

“Oh no, not that one” you cover your face, trying to disappear.  

“So, she walks around the house reading the papers and there was like a map in there. She goes up to Snowcone’s room to grab her crayons”  

“Oh, you didn’t" Jake says looking at him.  

“He went on a meeting next day and when he had to show the map to the rest... it had a cute little drawing of Iceman and Maverick in pink aircrafts”  

Both men laugh at the image of a tiny little y/n painting pink aircrafts in a map. You smile at the memory. When you saw Iceman the next week, he wasn’t angry. In fact, he hung the drawing in his office, among other ones that his own kids had drawn before. He even had one from Rooster.  

“He was a good man. Very patient, too. Had to be to deal with Maverick’s ass during all these years” Rooster says.  

“Yeah... and with our asses” you laugh again. 

The three of you stay all night in the kitchen, remembering the most interesting adventures you had while growing up and making Jake part of your small family. He sits there, listening in awe to all the pranks you used to pull on him and Maverick during the years. He eventually tells a few stories of his own, Rooster warming up to him and asking a few things. You know that they can be good friends, and it melts your heart that he is making the effort to be in the same room with him because Jake is now an important part of your life.  

And if Hangman was willing to stay up all night hearing stories about Iceman and Maverick to cheer you up, he would be part of Rooster’s life too.  

Several hours later, you find yourself in full dress blue uniform in front of the mirror. Taking deep breaths, you go to the living room where Rooster and Jake are waiting for you. Jake went to his house a few hours ago to get his uniform. He looks really good.  

“You ready, darling?” asks the man you were staring at.  

“As ready as I'll ever be”  

They both nod, Rooster going to the door. You walk with Jake towards his car. He has offered to drive both of you to the cemetery.

It took Jake twenty minutes to drive there. There was no music, no small talk, nor even a breath could be heard during the ride. Jake was worried, actually. Last night, Rooster and Rebel never once stopped talking, having lots of stories to share with him. Now, it seemed like they would never talk again. He realized that wearing the uniform and going to the funeral makes it all more real. And it made it hurt more. 

Jake also felt bad because all the events that had happened in the last 24 hours had brought him closer to Y/n that he could ever thought possible. She had shared a lot of her, her secrets, her childhood stories, she even stayed around when he said that she was the one for him. If Maverick hadn’t called, they would even have kissed.  

Jake knew that he shouldn’t be grateful for all that, but he was. Because of that, he was able to be with her in her vulnerable moments. He gained her trust. And he had to stop himself several times from kissing her. It wasn’t the moment for that, as Jake confessed to her. He had given her enough bad memories for a lifetime. If they were to make new memories together, he wanted them to be happy, beautiful ones.  

Once they arrived to the cemetery, all the Dagger squad was there. Even Maverick. Y/n walked immediately towards two women who, he supposed, were the Admiral’s wife and daughter. She hugged them close, the older woman crying for what it seemed the hundredth time that day.  

Rooster told Jake that Iceman asked Maverick to nail his wings on his coffin if he ever passed before him. It was a sign of respect. Jake’s chest tightened at the idea that maybe soon enough he will be nailing his wings in someone’s coffin if the mission wasn’t successful. He didn’t want to think of that.  

He stood next to Phoenix who seemed to be waiting for the appropriate time to ask why did he drive Y/n and Rooster here. After a few moments, the two joined them and the funeral began. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he took Y/n’s hand in his whenever he could. She seemed grateful to have a grounding touch.  

Once that the Admiral’s coffin was underground, Fahrenheit got closer to the tombstone. The formalities had ended, everyone was in small groups, greeting old friends and talking about the late admiral. Nobody was paying attention to her, except the Dagger squad. Fahren stood in front of her father’s grave, her knees buckled, falling to the ground. She began to cry; her agonizing cries being heard by every single soul present at the graveyard. Rooster ran to her, kneeling down and holding her between his arms. She held onto him for dear life. It seemed that the admiral’s daughter had tried to be brave for him until the very end. Not only for him, but for her family too. She had to take care of the family now. She didn’t know how to do it without her father.  

Y/n, that had been talking to Penny until she heard Fahren cry, also ran to hug her friend. Fahren, Rooster and Rebel had lost a father. Biological or not, it didn’t matter. Iceman took care of them in the same way. Jake had come to that conclusion after all the stories he heard about him. Maverick had been the funny and cool paternal figure, also the one that would always be there whenever they needed him. Iceman had been the mentor. He had taught them mathematics; Maverick had taught them how to drive a bike. Iceman, Maverick and Carole had raised those kids. They were alone, now, with broken hearts, open wounds, and unhealed traumas. 

Carole had died long ago.  

Maverick deceived them soon after.  

And now, Iceman, the only similar thing to a relative they had left, was gone, too.  

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

Baby, Don't Cry- E.M.

Y/N is having a bad day, but it all comes to a head when a make or break assignment is left at home with no time to redo it.

Masterlist

TW- Anxiety, angst, cursing, mentions of panic attack, self doubt and deprecation

Pairing- Bestie!Eddie Munson x GN!Reader (haha I finally know what that means now!)

Word Count-1,698

(Gif not mine, credit to owner!)

It’s been a bad day. When you woke up, your head was pounding like someone dropped a brick on it in the night. Then, as you walked out the door, you missed a step and fell, scraping your knee and your palms as you hit the concrete of the walkway to your house. You realized you forgot your Walkman on the kitchen counter after breakfast as you searched your backpack for it on the bus ride to school, and you groan in frustration. Why does this have to happen today?! I’m supposed to give that speech in English third period!

It dawns on you then. You worked on it last night, putting finishing touches on it, but did you put it in your backpack? You frantically dig around, looking for the yellow folder you’ve designated for English, but it’s not there. You stare up to the sky like your God has personally slapped you in the face as you swallow thickly. “Fuck.” You breathe. It’s one of the biggest grades of the semester. You can try to redo it in your free second period, but you know it’s hopeless. There’s no way you’ll be able to write a three-page speech in an hour. Not after spending a week on it the first time.

You make it to school and fidget in your seat as you try to pay attention to math, scribbling equations on your paper as you listen to the teacher, but your mind is also trying to conjure up the lines in your speech to try to replicate it when you make it to the library for the next hour, but nothing coherent comes to you. Just fragments of thoughts and sentences.

You bolt out of your seat as soon as the bell rings, and you hit your scraped knee on the desk, making you twinge in pain. You rub at it through your jeans to try to calm the irritation, but it’s no use, so you just continue to the library, pushing past people in your way as they carelessly mingle in the middle of the hallway.

You find a seat in the back corner of the library and get to work, but after bullshitting through the first couple of paragraphs, you draw a blank. You reread what you’ve written over and over, trying to form a coherent thought on how to continue, but the clock is suddenly ticking so loudly in your ears, your knee and head are both screaming, and you don’t know what to do. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block everything out as you attempt to center yourself. When you hear someone plop down in the seat across from you, it makes you jump. Your eyes shoot open, and there sits your best friend, Eddie.

“Hey sweet stuff. How’s it hanging?” He asks. You just shake your head, your pencil tap tap tapping against the table as your leg shakes like an earthquake is directly underfoot.

“Not a good time, Ed,” You mutter, looking back down at the paper. In order for these events to have taken place, the industrial revolution was essential…

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eddie asks sweetly, and it’s almost enough to make you start crying.

“Just… bad morning,” You grit through your teeth. You don’t want to rehash the horror show of a day you’ve already been experiencing. Eddie sits silently for a moment, but the tapping of your pencil clues him in on what kind of mood you’re in.

“You need some help? I think I did that speech last year,” Eddie offers, his head dipping to try to meet your gaze.

“No, I just need to focus. Left the real one at home. I’ve gotta present it in…” You flick your eyes to the clock. Only 20 minutes left. What? There’s no hope to finish it. Your heart sinks and you throw the pencil in frustration and shove the paper away from you, hiding your head in your arms as the tears start. You need that grade or else you’ll probably flunk and have to take summer school. Eddie panics for a moment, not sure what to do. He’s never seen you cry.

The crying makes your head throb even more and even though you really try to keep even breaths, you can’t stop as hyperventilation takes over. “Y/N, are you—” Eddie starts, but you pull yourself up out of your seat quickly and walk toward the cover of a floor to ceiling bookcase. Eddie gets up and follows, afraid you’re going to pass out at the sound of your heaving breaths.

You feel the heat of embarrassment flood your face as he sees you slide down the corner wall of the library, your breath getting away from you as you descend into a panic attack. You press your hands over your ears and tuck your legs in to your chest as best you can like you do at home, wincing as your jeans slide roughly over your sore knee.

Eddie sits next to you, hand reaching to rub your back as you rock gently back and forth, your heart feeling like it’s going to explode in your chest as it thrums a million miles an hour. You can’t form a thought, just a tangle of anxious feeling as your head throbs with intense pain. “Hey… Hey, it’s okay. We can just skip and you can bring it tomorrow. Come on, let’s just get out of here.” He suggests. You let out a jagged sob, knowing that even if you bring the speech tomorrow, it’ll be too late. It wasn’t good enough to get a really good grade, just enough to get you by. With the late points docked, there’s no chance of it passing.

“I-I-I can’t. M-m-move.” You finally say, your heavy breathing making it hard to talk. Eddie presses closer to you and wraps his arms around you, his head leaning on your shoulder.

 “Okay, we can sit here for a while. Let’s just try to get your breathing, okay? I don’t want you passing out on me.” He says reassuringly, one hand still rubbing your back. You nod and hold your breath, hoping it’ll reset your breathing rhythm. You let it out in a big gust, your chest stuttering as you breathe in another gulp of air and hold it.

“That’s good. You’re doing great, Y/N.” Eddie whispers. You let your breath out and try to focus on the comforting circles Eddie rubs into your back, soft and slow. Your sobs still stutter your breaths, but the breathing is slower.

Then the bell rings, reminding you that you’re going to fail because you were stupid and didn’t pack your assignment, and you’re going to have to go to summer school and your parents are gonna kick your ass and then they’re gonna kick you out because you’re so stupid and—

You press your hands to your ears again, your breath speeding back up as you rock back and forth, knees still pulled tight to your body. Eddie hushes you, pulling you closer to him to try to get you to stop moving so you can relax. You relent and let your head press hard into his chest, knees finally falling slack. He rocks you together, one hand still on your back as the other cards through your hair comfortingly. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. It’ll all be okay.” You squeeze your eyes shut as tightly as you can and shakily pull in another big breath, holding it for as long as you can before breathing out, then again, and again, and then your body starts to unclench, the release of tension in your muscles causing your body to tremble as you start relaxing into Eddie. “That’s it. You’re doing so good. You’re doing great, okay? Just keep breathing for me.” He keeps whispering comforting words into your ear, his hands doing wonders to ease your anxiety as you finally begin coming back to Earth.

You start hiccupping painfully as your tears begin to slow, but your breathing has evened out in between. Finally, you gather the strength to look up at him. “Hey, there you are.” The hand in your hair goes to hold your cheek as he gives you a small smile, and you snort back snot, lip still wobbling as tears stream down your cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry, Eddie,” You say. He shakes his head.

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. This is what best friends are for, right?” You try to smile, but you’re sure it looks like a weird grimace with the involuntary quiver of your face.

“I guess you’re right…” You relent. It goes quiet again, save for your subsiding hiccups and deep breaths.

“You wanna get out of here? We can hang out at my place for the rest of the day. Wayne will be asleep so we won’t have to worry about him.” You swallow hard, trying to get all of the runoff from your sinuses out of your throat.

“Yeah. I don’t wanna be here anymore.” You feel another tear slip out of your eye, and you wipe it away on the back of your hand.

“Okay. You ready now?”

“Yeah,” You breathe a deep sigh. “Let’s go.” With that, you and Eddie detach yourself from each other and pull yourselves off the ground. Eddie grabs your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you walk back to the table you were sitting at to grab your things. As you walk toward the doors out of the library, you pause, not wanting to feel eyes on you. Eddie squeezes your hand, his big doe eyes sympathetic.

“You okay?”

“Don’t want people to stare,” You mutter, your eyes flicking to the ground.

“Don’t worry about that. If people stare, it’ll be at me. Resident freak here, remember?” He chuckles as he points a thumb to himself. You smile at him.

“Yeah, okay.” You walk out of the school together, Eddie cracking jokes until he finally makes you laugh. As you get in Eddie’s van with him, all you can think of is how lucky you are to have a friend like him.

[katmoonz]

Depression

Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3034

Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work. 

Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.

Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx

Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.

Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.

The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.

This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.

At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.

You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.

Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.

The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.

You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.

Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.

Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.

Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.

“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.

“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.

“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.

Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.

You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.

Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*

You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.

Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*

Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.

Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.

The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.

Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.

Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.

“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.

“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.

Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*

Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.

The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.

Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.

Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.

“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”

“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus

Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don��t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”

Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”

“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius

Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”

Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”

Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.

The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.

The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.

Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”

Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.

Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.

Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.

Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.

The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.

“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.

Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.

Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”

This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.

Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.

You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.

Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.

Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”

You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.

Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”

The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.

Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.

You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.

Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”

Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”

Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”

Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”

“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.

You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.

You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”

The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.

Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”

Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”

Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.

You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.

“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”

You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.

“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.

You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”

You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”

He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”

This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.

“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.

“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.

“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”

Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”

“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”

“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.

“Rubbit” he replies.

This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.

After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.

“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.

Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”

You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

she ain’t a gold digger ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2417

request?: yes!

“Hi, please write a MGK imagine where the reader joins him on tour and he loses his wallet and when they decide to go out to a club one night, she asks him to get something from her bag and he sees his wallet in there. He accuses her of stealing and they get into a fight and she storms off. One of the guys confesses that they found it in their suitcase by accident and just slipped it in her purse to keep it safe but forgot to tell him and he apologizes profusely to reader and after some persuasion she forgives him”

description: when his wallet goes missing and he finds it in her bag, he lets the tabloids bullshit get to him and causes a fight he regrets

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist (one, two)

The hotel room was basically overturned when (Y/N) walked in. Colson was tossing things from his suitcase, frantically searching for something.

“We’ve only been here like five minutes, is it really time to pull a full Motley Crue on this room?” she teased.

“I can’t find my wallet,” Colson said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“It’s not in my suitcase, it’s not in any of my pants - the ones in my suitcase or the ones I’m wearing - it’s not in my carry on or my jacket.”

(Y/N) crossed the room to kneel next to Colson. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. In a more calm manner, she looked through the things Colson had messily thrown about the floor. She helped him to look for the millionth time through everything, coming up empty yet again.

“Okay, don’t panic,” she said. “You had it at the airport because it was with your passport. We can call both this airport and the one we just departed from to see if it’s been turned in. In the meantime, we can lock your cards so no one can use them.”

Colson nodded, but (Y/N) could see the panic in his eyes. She cupped his face and made him look up at her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find it, and if we don’t we’ll replace it the best we can.”

~~~~~~

Despite the stress he was still feeling, Colson decided to join (Y/N) and his friends at the club that night. He was glued to his phone the entire ride there, and once they got to the club (Y/N) took it and shoved it into her purse.

“Relax,” she told him. “We’re here to have a good time.”

“But what if someone calls about my wallet?” he asked.

“Then they’ll leave a message. I highly doubt anyone is calling you at almost midnight, though.” (Y/N) laced her fingers through Colson’s and pressed her body against his. “Please baby? For me?”

Colson sighed but (Y/N) could see the smile on his face. “Fine, but you’re paying for my drinks tonight.”

He had to admit the night out was what he needed. Besides the panic over his wallet, Colson had also basically worked himself to death the past few months. Between recording and filming, and now the tour. He was just grateful that his manager allowed (Y/N) to join them on tour. He’d be out of his mind without her.

(Y/N) pushed through the crowd to where Colson and his friends were and passed Colson his drink. He smiled and pulled her down onto his lap. (Y/N) giggled as Colson pressed a kiss onto her neck.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, do us the curtesy of going to the bathroom,” Rook called over the music.

“Please, I’m more classy than that,” Colson responded. “I’d fuck her in the coat closet like a gentleman.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m gonna go dance. Enjoy your boy talk.”

Colson watched the beautiful curved figure of his girlfriend strut to the dancefloor. He finished his drink in one mouthful and went to follow her.

They danced together for so long that Colson had forgotten all of his worried for a brief period of time. He gazed lovingly into the face of the love of his life as she grinded her hips against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sheepishly smiled up at him.

“Wanna get out of here?” she whispered seductively in his ear.

“More than anything,” Colson responded. “I’ll get our things. Meet me at the front doors.”

(Y/N) smiled and winked at him as they went their separate ways. Colson pulled out the coat check tickets to get his jacket and (Y/N)’s purse, and passed it to the girl working there. As he shrugged on his jacket, he got the overwhelming urge to check his phone to see if anyone had called about his wallet.

He promised (Y/N) he’d have a good time, but she didn’t have to know he checked. He would just look and see if there were any missed calls then forget until morning.

However, when he opened (Y/N)’s purse to get her phone, he noticed something on the very top: his wallet.

Why does she have my wallet? he thought. And why wouldn’t she tell me that she had it? She knows how worried I’ve been about it.

He tried not to overthink anything before talking to (Y/N) first. He made his way to the front of the club where (Y/N) was waiting with a joint hanging partially out of her mouth. She looked over at him and smiled as a puff of smoke rolled from her lips.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked. When she noticed Colson’s serious look, her smile fell. “Babe, are you okay? Did something happen?”

He found his words stuck in his throat, so instead of speaking he just held his wallet up.

“Holy shit! Is that your wallet?” Colson nodded, still unable to talk. “Where did you find it?!”

“In your purse.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? How did it get in my purse?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

She looked up at him as she took another puff from the joint. “What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, I’m just asking a question. This is your purse after all, the only people who touch it are you and me. Obviously I didn’t put the wallet in there so that leaves one person.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Say it Colson. Fucking say it.”

“Did you take my wallet (Y/N)?”

“No! Of course I didn’t!”

“Then why is it in your purse?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned away from Colson. She started to walk away, but he followed her.

“If you took it, I just want to know why,” he said. “I’m not upset, I know there’s likely a good reason for taking it and not telling me.”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” (Y/N) snapped, spinning around to glare at Colson. “I know how this looks, I know it makes no sense, but I fucking swear to you I did not take your fucking wallet. I don’t know how it got in my purse, I don’t know why it’s there, but I did not take your goddamn wallet!”

“Then why the fuck is it in your purse?!”

(Y/N) let out a frustrated groan and buried her head in her hands. “Why can’t you just fucking believe me when I say I didn’t take it? I don’t know how it got in my purse, but I didn’t take it.”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me, (Y/N). How else would it have gotten there? You’re the only one who even touches your purse, none of the guys have had access to it. You knew when and where I had my wallet last, and now it’s showing up in your bag.”

“If I had taken it, why was I trying to help you find it? Why did I tell you to shut down your cards so no one could use them? Why was I helping you to call the airports and turn over the entire hotel room another two times looking for it? Why would I go to those lengths if I just had it instead of telling you just to replace it all?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N), maybe you were just making sure you could get whatever fucking money you could from me without me realizing.”

(Y/N)’s face fell and her eyes started to well with tears. After being together for a year, she thought he would know her better than that. She thought he wouldn’t believe the bullshit tabloid websites were publishing about her being a gold digger and just dating Colson for the money. She thought he would knew she loved him with her entire heart because of who he was, not because he was a famous rapper.

Apparently she was wrong.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned away from him and walked towards the line up of taxis that were waiting outside of the club. Colson watched her go, his anger starting to subside and be replaced by guilt. But he couldn’t go after her, he wouldn’t. He needed some time to think about all of this, to let her think about it as well. Neither one of them were going to get any answers if they kept fighting and hurting one another.

Colson entered the club again, order two more strong drinks and finding his way back to his boys. They all looked at him with confusion as he sat down where he had been before.

“Dude, I thought you left,” Baze said.

“I thought so, too, until I found my wallet in (Y/N)’s purse,” Colson muttered. “We got into a fight and she left.”

“Why were you fighting about that?” Rook asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

Colson waved off the comment, not feeling in the mood to relay the entire fight back to his friends.

“Wait, did I not tell you I put the wallet there?” Slim asked.

Colson nearly choked on one of his drinks. He coughed and turned to look at his friend. “You fucking had it?”

“Yeah man, it somehow got in my carry on,” Slim responded. “I found it when we were waiting for our luggage. I put it in (Y/N)’s purse cause I knew it would be safe there. I could’ve swore I told you that, though.”

“You didn’t,” Colson said. “God fucking dammit, I’m an idiot.”

“What did you say to her, man?” Baze asked.

“I...I insinuated that she...she’s only with me for my money and she stole my wallet so she could get it.”

The guys chorused disapproving noises at the same time.

“Kells, (Y/N) is literally the realest person I’ve ever met,” Rook said. “She ain’t a gold digger, and you definitely shouldn’t think that she is.”

“I don’t,” Colson sighed. “I was just pissed. God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Bro,” Slim said, leaning forward to look at Colson, “go after your woman and apologize.”

Colson nodded and quickly stood from his seat. The cab ride back to the hotel felt incredibly slow. Of course, he had left his phone in (Y/N)’s purse so he couldn’t even call or text her. There was no guarantee that she was even at the hotel, and that thought had Colson’s anxiety so much higher.

He desperately searched his pockets for the hotel key as he approached the room. When he couldn’t find it, he realized it was likely he had left that in (Y/N)’s purse, too. He sighed and began knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he said, his voice soft. “Baby, can you let me in? I think my key is in your purse.” When there was no movement, he added, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should’ve listened to you. Slim admitted to putting my wallet in your bag, turns out he had it all along. I...I should never have thought it was you. I shouldn’t have said what I said. Can...can you let me in, please?”

There was silence. Not even signs of movement. Colson’s heart began to race as he realized the likeliness that (Y/N) had left. He had no idea where she could’ve gone, and now he didn’t even have any way of reaching her.

The door suddenly opened and (Y/N)’s tearstained face looked up at him. She didn’t say anything as she turned away and walked back into the hotel room. Colson followed in silence, unsure of what else to say. He just wanted to hold her and apologize forever, to do anything and everything she wanted to make things better.

(Y/N) got back into bed and laid with her back to Colson. He stood there in the dark, just looking at her.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You called me a gold digger,” (Y/N) responded, her voice equally as small. “After almost a year together, you called me a fucking gold digger.”

“I know - ”

“We’ve talked about how much those tabloid stories get to me, how upset they make me, and you really had the audacity to bring that up and not believe me when I said that I didn’t take your wallet.”

The fact that her voice wasn’t angry, but rather sad, made everything so much worse. Colson winced at her words, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“I know,” he repeated. “I don’t know why I said any of that. I didn’t mean it, I know you love me. I just...I have no excuses. I am a total fucking idiot and you have every right to be angry with me. I know I’m sorry won’t cut it, but for now that’s all I can say. I really am sorry.”

There was another prolonged silence. (Y/N) didn’t even move from her place on the bed. Colson had accepted the fact that she probably hated him and was preparing to go stay with one of the guys for the night, when he heard the bed shift and (Y/N)’s soft voice ask, “Did the guys give you shit?”

Colson smiled to himself. “Yeah, they did. They called me an idiot.”

“You are one.”

“I know.”

Through the darkness of the room, Colson could see (Y/N) lift the blankets and gesture for him to join her. He quickly kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket somewhere on the floor. The minute his body connected with hers, he felt relief wash over him. He hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head and repeating the sentiment over and over.

“And I love you, as in you - Colson Baker. Not Machine Gun Kelly, not the man with the money. I love the real you.”

“I know you do. I promise I’ll never doubt that again baby.”

(Y/N) relaxed into Colson’s arms, still a bit hurt from what he had said but happy to have him there with her. Finally, after some time, the two drifted off to sleep.

[amysteriousmessenger]

May I request some fluff RFA headcanons? 🥺🥺

I hope these are okay!! I added Saeran and V just for the sake of it!! <3 these will be a random mixture of with and without MC!

Random Fluffy RFA + Saeran and V Headcanons

Yoosung Kim Fluffy Headcanons

He asks you to marry him in LOLOL, since there’s an expansion pack where you can set up a little house for extra storage. He gets really nervous and a bit sweaty about asking you to do it, he takes it oddly seriously and Zen almost passed out when he thought that you were actually engaged.

He tries to make you coffee every morning, especially if he’s trying a new style out. He thinks it’s really fun and he loves to greet you with it for breakfast. After a while, you come to associate the faint smell of coffee with Yoosung. 

At the start he starts sneakily using little bits of your shower gel because they smell so much nicer than the one his gamer student budget allows him to buy. Eventually, he’ll just cave and buy a bottle of the one that you use because it means he gets to be reminded of you all day and it’s a lot better for his skin anyway.

If you play with his hair when his head is in your lap, he’ll absolutely fall asleep. Yoosung is a little bit like a puppy in that way, it just makes him feel so happy and loved.

Zen/Hyun Ryu Fluffy Headcanons

Zen’s a big person for morning kisses, especially sleepy ones. He’s an early riser and definitely feels extra needy in the morning. He’s also always the big spoon, he likes to feel as though he’s protecting you even when he’s asleep.

Whenever you’re crying and cover your face so he can’t see, Zen’s the kinda person who would gently pull your arms away so he can get a look at you and figure out what’s wrong. He’ll kiss at your eyes and cheeks until you either stop crying, or let him get close enough to pull you in so you can cry on his chest. 

He loves doing skincare on you. If he thinks you’ve had a hard week, he’ll do your moisturiser, clay mask, face mask, eye mask- you name it, Zen wants to pamper you with it. He knows the importance of skincare and he thinks it’s a great way to relax and pamper you. 

Zen’s ‘Happy Place’ that he thinks of when he gets stressed is the two of you, beers in hand, spending an evening in the kitchen trying to cook food. He can hear the laughter, smell the ever-so-slightly burning food, taste the traces of beer on your lower lip. It just makes him so happy to think about and he can feel the desperation in his limbs to sprint home at full speed and make the daydream real.

Jaehee Kang Fluffy Headcanons

Saturday mornings are Jaehee’s favourite out of the whole week. She’s just worked 5 hellish days and Saturday is the day where she gets to have a bit of a lie-in. Usually, Jumin doesn’t ask her to come into the office on weekends and it’s usually just a case of working from home. Jaehee tries not to oversleep too much because she doesn’t want to throw off her schedule but sometimes she can’t help but pass out for 10 hours straight and undisturbed. 

She really enjoys bubble baths with you. When you first start doing it together, she’s a little shy at being seen undressed so intimately, but she still really enjoys the time alone with you. It’s a great way to unwind and she likes being so close to you.

Jaehee isn’t much of a cuddler when she’s asleep, she tends to just sleep flat on her back out of exhaustion. However, if you wake up for any reason during the night, you’ll frequently find her hand holding yours, whether she did it consciously or not. 

She collects really nice and cute stationary. She doesn’t really take them to work because she doesn’t want to be seen as unprofessional, but once she runs the coffee shop, she gets to write in her little hot-drinks-themed stationary and decorates the little cups with tiny stickers for the frequent customers and especially for whenever Zen comes to visit.

Jumin Han Fluffy Headcanons

Sunday mornings are Jumin’s favourites. He usually wakes up really early by routine, but on Sundays he spends a little bit longer curled up in bed with you and Elizabeth the Third, watching you both sleep. Jumin’s also usually the big spoon if he’s sleeping on his side, but when he sleeps on his back he typically still has one arm around your waist so you’re pulled next to him with your head on his chest.

He personally donates to many different cat shelters all over the country. He takes the money straight out of his own bank account and gives generous monthly donations to make sure that there’s enough funding to both feed the cats already there, and take in extra cats of the streets along with getting them adopted. Jumin’s staff actually has a company policy that if they adopt a cat from one of the shelters that Jumin supports, the vet and adoption fees are covered by him, he counts it as philanthropy.

Jumin has a bottle of wine in his cellar from the date you met, the date you first kissed, the date you got engaged and the date you got married. He hasn’t quite decided when he’ll share those wines with you, he just knows at the moment that he wants to keep them for a very special occasion. 

When he’s bored at work but he can’t call you because you’re busy, he pictures taking you to one of his vineyards on the weekend. He’ll picture your smile, you adjusting your hat and lightly squinting against the sun, you smiling at him over your glass of wine. Then he’ll tell Jaehee to clear his schedule for the weekend.

Saeyoung Choi Fluffy Headcanons

Your arms around him, holding him against you, is pretty much the only thing that can bring Seven out of an anxiety attack. If you’re not physically with him, he crawls under the duvet on his bed in hopes of still smelling you. He’ll call you and look through selfies with you that he has on his phone until he calms down. 

Seven frequently tries to make you food. He’s never had to cook for anyone before and he doesn’t really cook for himself, so it’s a lot of trial, error and frustrated takeaways. You try to eat whatever he makes though because you can really tell that he’s put his heart into it and you want to show him that you appreciate the effort he’s making.

He loves you feeling his biceps and gushing over how strong he is. He’s not even particularly ripped but you can tell he has strength in his limbs and seeing you give him any kind of physical approval makes him m e l t instantly.

He’s both the big and little spoon, depending what mood he is in. Sometimes he wants to hold you close and never let go, but sometimes Seven needs a little bit of support too and want to feel like he’s needed by you.

His absolute favourite dates are the arcades, the cinema, bowling and carnivals. He has far too much fun on the bumpercars and he absolutely has it out for you, you spend most of the time trying to escape him.

GE Saeran Choi  Fluffy Headcanons

GE Saeran always makes very over the top hot chocolates for the both of you. He has an arsenal of whipped cream, syrups, chocolate shavings and sprinkles. His hot chocolate is better than any you could buy in a store. He’ll make one for you whenever you ask, and then sometimes just to surprise you if it looks like you’re having a bad day.

GE Saeran ends up getting two cavities in his first few years of living freely. He does look after his teeth, but he let his sweet-tooth go little bit wild with all the new foods he got to try, it was all so new and fun to him, he just wanted to try everything! He took much better care of his teeth after that, but the trip to the dentist was quite a weird one since he’d never been before. 

Slight Angst: Saeran always serves your food first and makes sure there’s always extra helpings if you want it. He usually puts a little bit more on your plate than what you would usually eat. He never quite gets over the guilt of taking your food away at Magenta, so he spends the rest of his time making sure you have more than enough to eat now.

He likes to constantly buy you little gifts that he sees when he’s out and about that remind him of you. A little notebook in your favourite colour? A little forget-me-not necklace? A candle that smells like your perfume? He’d added them all to his cart. 

After lip kisses, Saeran loves giving cheek and hand kisses to you. For him, he really loves getting head kisses and he thinks it’s extra cute when you plant a little kiss onto the tip of his nose.

V/Jihyun Kim Fluffy Headcanons 

V usually wakes up first, unless he was working late in his studio. He wakes you up with a kiss to the forehead, a cup of coffee and soft words. After he’s put your drink on the table, he’ll climb back into bed with you and cuddle until you’re properly awake.

He actually enjoys baking with you. Well, he likes to help you bake and then he gets to do the decorating. You usually bring a cake to any RFA hangouts and it’s always very obvious when V’s helped you bake because it feels like he goes out of his way to put a piece of gallery-worthy art onto a cake with food colourings and icings. He thinks it makes it tastes better, and you have to agree. 

In recent years, V’s been considering trying a more plant-based diet. He thinks he’d like to try vegetarianism, but he’s frequently spend periods of time as a pescatarian, especially after he’s come back from travelling. It also means that he gets to practice cooking more too.

[missinghan]

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

[rogue-durin-16]

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"