#i was thinking about sharing some oc shit today. but uh. the fear.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

tell the truth... if we were both werewolves could we cuddle in wolf form...

[tootiredmotel]

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good." 

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary. 

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue. 

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

[scuttle-buttle]

Sleeping With the Enemy

Chapter 2

Summary: Catherine Sinclair is the younger, estranged half-sister of renowned F1 driver James Hunt. Things get a bit complicated when she decides to reenter James’ life and ends up meeting his rival - Niki Lauda. Engines ignite as Catherine finds herself caught between her feelings for Niki and the rivalry that the two men share. Will she pump the brakes or let herself crash in the inferno?

Pairing: Niki Lauda (Rush 2013) x fem!OC Catherine Sinclair

WC: 979

Rating: E 18+ for eventual smut

T/W: language, eventual smut, hot second of accidental implied incest (but there is none), rivalry, mentions of substance use, F1 racing, flirting 

You never really had an interest in racing or F1 growing up. In fact, you maintained that you had no interests or talents as a child. That's why when you turned 18 you left home; to find myself, you'd told your mother. You had a bit of a rough patch, so to speak, from the time you left until you were about 20. After all, it was the early 70s. Sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll were all the rage. You even spent a summer as a groupie for the Rolling Stones on their European tour. 

After a few years of going non-stop you decided to settle down. Your father paid for university and you degreed in Medieval and Renaissance Art. You had yourself a nice little flat in Bologna and worked in one of the art museums. But through it all you never returned to your family. 

Your poor mother. She worked hard to provide for you. Your father wasn't in the picture -  at least not until he found out about you. At the age of 13 your mum reached out to him to confess that the affair between the two had produced a child. He tried to bring you into his own family. A doting wife and step siblings all on the path to great success. He provided anything you could ever need, but you never felt that you fit in. You weren't destined to be some hot shot doctor or barrister. 

The only one of your siblings you felt close with was James. He was 15 when you ‘joined’ the Hunts. In secret you would talk about your dreams and fears with each other. How the two of you were just different. James was the only one you truly believed was your family. That is, until you decided to leave. Naturally he didn't want you to go, as adventurous and daring as he was himself. You hadn't spoken much in the years since. 

When you heard he'd finally made it to the big leagues and gotten himself a drive with McLaren you felt so proud. Pushing down your own pride, you made it your mission to find and see him race when there was a local grand prix. Thus, here you were today.

“Catherine,” Niki tested your name in his mouth. You felt heat rise in your cheeks at the intensity of his expression. I suppose everything you do will be pretty intense with a job like this though?

Before you could respond there was a bellow from behind you. “Kitty? Is that you?” 

You cringed at the old nickname. James jogged up to you and put his hand on your shoulder, shaking you with joy at seeing you after so many years. “I came over to rib the Rat King and look what I find! I didn’t know you were coming!” While you were elated to finally be with your brother again you felt the sudden anxiety come creeping back in. Would he be mad that you had been gone for so many years, only to randomly show up at a race?

“Yeah it uh… it was pretty last minute...” You cleared your throat. “But when I heard about your drive I figured it was about time.” James’ hair was longer than you remembered, your father always insisting he kept it short when you were young. 

“You look good,” his tone softened, hand squeezing your arm. “I hope Niki isn’t giving you any shit. He’s always so serious all the time.”

Niki cocked his shoulders. “I’m a serious guy. I go to bed early, look after myself, look after my car.”

“Yes, you’re very well behaved.” James rolled his eyes.

“Go to work, kick ass, then after the race I go home instead of going to bars and doing all this bullshit with all these assholes,” he gestured around. 

“Assholes?” James’ eyes narrowed.

“Alright, boys, that’s enough,” you said while crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at James.

The two drivers shared a look. Turning to you, James asked “I have to get back, but you’ll stop by, yeah? I want to see you again.”

“Yeah I'll swing by in a bit,” you nod.

Niki watched the interaction with annoyance. Here he was thinking that he had met the one woman that didn’t swoon for Hunt. He had also never seen his rival so… soft when talking to a woman. You must be someone special to him. Instantly he felt the jealousy rise in his chest. 

Hunt left the two of you and headed back to the celebration. Niki was giving James a death glare. Now that your brother was gone you hoped to pick the conversation back up.

“How do you know Hunt?” Niki questioned abruptly. 

“Oh we um…. we’ve known each other for years. Our families are pretty… close...” You didn’t like the line of questioning into your family problems. You changed the subject, hoping that he will drop his own. “So you were saying something about visiting the garage?” you chewed your lip.

Niki glanced at you with surprise evident on his face. He hadn’t expected you to want to visit with him after the interaction with Hunt. If you were involved with him he did not want to put himself in that situation either. “I’m sure you would rather spend your time with him,” he gestured between you and the direction James had travelled in.

You visibly shuttered and nearly shouted out “oh god - no, NO.”

Maybe she isn’t fucking Hunt then, Niki hoped. He was pleased and amused with your response. “I have precision testing with Ferrari on Thursday in Maranello. Be there at 10. Tell them you’re with me and they won’t give you shit.”

Studying his face for a brief second, you decided to live a little, “yeah alright.” 

You smile at him and turn to go find James. “I’ll see you Thursday, Catherine,” Niki called after you.

“Have a good night, Niki,” you threw over your shoulder.

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 12 - The Development, Pt. I

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: TW for homophobia, homophobic guy gets kicked in the balls. mostly angst: tense situations, back story reveal (hints to disturbing cult activities/religious trauma??). smut: vulnerable/desperate sex, reader and joel being in love and soft w each other.

Summary: The reader and Joel unintentionally get more tangled up with Kiki and Ward –going on patrols, doing town duties with them etc.– which leaves the reader frustrated.

Word Count: 7.060

Author's Note: I feel like I proofread this 500 times but my apologies if it still sucks 😭

Enjoy!

"I think we earned a small break, don't you think so, Captain?" Kurt extended a beer bottle to you.

"I guess so, colonel," You offered a vague smile and reluctantly took the bottle from him.

"Oh, c'mon, cheer up (Y/N)!" Kurt put an arm around you and chuckled ironically. "It's the 4th of July..."

"Sure," You patted his back but appreciated his enthusiasm nevertheless. "It just doesn't sit right with me that all these other people in the QZ don't have the- the luxury we have."

"Oh, I know," Kurt let his arm go and nodded bitterly. "It ain't just, but there's not much we can do."

You nodded as well: "Well, be back in 5, gotta go piss."

Kurt laughed heartily and waved his hand at you as you walked away from the open area to wash your face, hoping to wash away the guilt as well. It was your first time in a different QZ– Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be more specific and you weren't exactly having a good time. A big part of your company was wiped out, which had ultimately triggered your survivor's guilt. The situation was out of your control when hunters, bandits and a surprise horde of infected got involved; everyone acknowledged how there wasn't anything you could do, except for yourself. It had been 5 years into this apocalyptic mess, yet you still had trouble adjusting to it... but then again, no one ever really did.

When you reached the shared toilet areas, there were only three cabins. One was occupied, one was completely empty without the toilet itself and the other was simply too dirty.

You heard heavy breathing from the occupied cabin, and instinctively decided to knock on the door to make sure the person inside was alright: "Hey, is everything..."

The moment you knocked the second time on the door, it opened just a smidge to reveal two men kissing, which made you gasp loudly and step back while alerting them.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry–"

"Oh shit–!"

You went to close the door, but immediately decided to turn around in panic, thinking: Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I'm really sorry! I just wanted to use the toilet since the others are, well– Uh–"

"Fuck, what are we going to–" You heard one of them speak, panicked.

"Relax, it'll be fine," The other one reassured.

"Look, it's uh–" You tried again, slowly turning to walk out of there. "I wasn't here, we never saw each other, okay?"

"No, wait!" You felt a ghostly hand on your arm, but he didn't grab it, just tapped once to get your attention. "Please, you can't tell anyone!"

You raised your hands up mid air to do a stop gesture, trying to get him and his partner to calm down: "No, of course I won't!"

"Wait," The other man with blue eyes stepped out of the cabin. "You won't? You don't mind... us?"

"Mind you? It's none of my business to begin with," You assured both of them. "What happened here stays between us– hell, I wasn't even here as we speak."

"Thank you," He smiled and saw the way he clung onto his partner's –whom you noticed had hazel fleeing to green eyes– hand with his fingers. "Most people around here don't... appreciate us."

You nodded bitterly, a small, sad smile on your face: "I'm so sorry, I wish I could do something for the both of you–"

"What's going on here then?" A deep voice called from behind you, when you noticed a little too late how the man with green eyes' expression shifted to one of fear.

You turned around to meet a face you weren't familiar with: "Why do you wish to know?"

"Why do I wish t–" The guy gave you an incredulous look, interrupted himself and asked. "Identify yourselves."

"Corporal Robin Lazewski," Said the man with the blue eyes.

"Sergeant Cole Doxon." Green eyes followed.

"And you, missy?" The man stood before you at arms length with a sneer.

"Captain," You corrected him. "(Y/N) (L/N). Who might you be?"

The man's sneer disappeared when he realised your ranks were the same, but he still looked displeased: "Captain Phillip Moore. Now, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?"

The question was more directed at Robin and Cole rather than you, and you knew why, so you stepped in: "Nothing that should worry you, Captain."

"Oh, but I know what's been going on. Had my eye on you two for awhile now enough to know exactly what type of people you are."

"These men are from my company, Captain," You intervened again, lying through your teeth without thinking about the consequences. "If you have a complaint, we can gladly take this up to Colonel Kurt Greenwood, as he is our superior."

The name made Phillip take a step back, clearly making him nervous: "Tsk, no thanks. Don't need to get more involved with your kind."

"If you wanna say something, mister, go right ahead," You growled and took a step forward, risking the possibility of a few days of detention without hesitation. The tension thickened, and thickened, and thickened then finally...

————

"Woah, wait, you just lied out of your ass to him?" Ellie suddenly interrupted you.

"Yeah," You sighed. "If he knew that they were actually from Pittsburgh I would've been... fucked."

"Shit," Ellie sighed. "Guy didn't even know his own soldiers... and then?"

"He said a few unkind words about them, and, well, I kicked him in the balls."

"Are you serious?" Ellie's eyes grew wider, beginnings of a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

"Hell yeah," You offered her your first smile the whole time you'd been lying in your bed together. She came to visit you for the evening, which was no doubt Joel's idea but it was nice of him of course, and ultimately decided to stay the night like you both did from time to time. Your husband, on the other hand, went to stay over at Tommy's to give you both some space.

"Dolly, you were both awesome and out of your mind! What if he caught you? Did they find out?" She asked, squirming where she laid.

"I got away with kicking him at that moment, got the boys out of there and went straight to Kurt." You put an arm under your pillow: "Told him we had to make a transfer, explained the reason. He got mad at me, sure, but he had some connections in the QZ. Later on the guy made a complaint about all of us, but all Kurt said was: Maybe you should worry more about the people suffering in the QZ rather than two people kissing. Maybe then, you can control these uprisings."

"Man," She giggled. "I wish I met Kurt– all of your team. You all were so fucking cool."

You gave her a crooked smile, the pains of your old wounds hurting as if they were new: "He was right, too." She gave you a curious look. "There are more important things people should worry themselves with rather than town gossip, like survival and keeping Jackson running."

Ellie averted her eyes at your words: "Yeah..."

"Look, I may not have the same fierceness I did when I was 25, but that's never going to stop me from kicking someone's balls if they disrespect you." She huffed a brief laugh at your words: "Jokes aside... You know, you can tell Joel, right?"

"Ugh, I don't wanna think about it," She groaned and turned to the right, face directed at the ceiling.

"Take your time. I'm not saying you should tell him, just letting you know that you can, if you want to."

"Sure, thanks..." She stared at the wall for awhile, the moonlight shining directly onto her beautiful features. After a while, she said: "I don't feel like he's being too honest with me, actually."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words: "How do you mean?"

She took her time with her reply: "He ever talked to you about what happened? Before we got here?"

"Not much."

"What about my... immunity?" Her eyes shifted to yours.

You felt like a piece of shit lying to her, making the burden on your shoulder get heavier. The bed felt like it could swallow you when you spoke nonchalantly: "Again, not much. Told me there were a dozen or so more immune people, that they ran some tests and–"

"Yeah, he took me out of there. Unconscious." She sighed and you felt like your uneasiness was showing, but actually you kept your composure. "Do you really believe that?"

This time you took a bit long to answer, walking over the minefield with careful steps: "I'm... I don't know, I'm not really buying it." She gave you a worried look: "But it isn't my business to interfere, either. I really don't know what to tell you."

Ellie just nodded and continued staring at the ceiling afterwards: "I just wish..."

"Yeah?"

"Nevermind."

You nodded, glad the conversation didn't go where you thought it would, relaxing into the mattress: "I heard Tommy brought you one of the comics you were dying to read."

"Yeah," She quietly took a deep breath.

"And? D'you like it?"

"I did actually," She seemed more enthusiastic than a moment ago, which made you relax even more. "But there was another cliffhanger! It wasn't the final volume!"

The next morning Joel stopped by briefly to get his stuff for patrol, kissed you goodbye while you were having breakfast with Ellie, then left. That's when she spoke up: "So? What are we doing today?"

"We?" You raised a brow.

"I got a day off, and you look miserable," She commented. "Not about to let that go to waste, so..."

"I was just planning on lying down for a bit."

"You've been lying down for ever, it's time you did something else!"

"Ellie I really don't have the energy for– for anything, right now." You sighed and helped her with the dishes.

"So... you also don't have the energy for the new game Jesse brought?" She side eyed you, offering a mischievous smile.

You hated feeling like this, not being able to do things with people you cared about because you simply couldn't. Everyone was understanding, of course, but you hated how this feeling had become a part of you overtime; way before you had reached Jackson, and before the death of your family. You even found comfort in it to a certain level, but if you could, you'd gladly get rid of it with a single snap of your fingers.

"I'd like nothing more honestly," You wiped your hands on a small towel on the counter and looked at her: "But we'll see, you know how I get."

If there was someone who helped you get back on your feet as quickly as Ellie and Joel, it was Maria – and Tommy.

But sometimes you really doubted if Maria truly was a maker of right decisions.

It was your first patrol with Ellie where you two went outside, very much like the patrols you took on, but it was still a bit new for her. She wanted to get involved with the patrols sooner than Joel liked: She's too young, it's too early for her, he'd say, but even though it's no age for her to be even seeing the stuff she saw, going through everything she went through, you were on Ellie's side on the matter. She was capable of handling patrols with you, or Joel and others; she was also more skilled than all the kids her age, but a part of you also wanted to keep her safe behind the walls of Jackson.

After a lot of reasoning with Joel, you had managed to convince him and were on your way to start the ski lodge route with Ellie. Maria had told you you'd be meeting with a couple of other people to do a sweep afterwards, but she was hesitant to tell you who. You knew something was afoot, for Maria never was a person to mince her words; it initially gave you an idea about who might be waiting for you, but at least you had Ellie to help calm your nerves. You hitched your horses at the entrance, then walked through the doors. Your jaw clenched and your posture visibly tensed when your theories were proven right and you saw who was inside.

Kiki and Ward.

You internally cringed when you made eye contact with Ward, who was... talking with Joel?

What the fuck is going on?

"'bout time!" Tommy appeared out of nowhere, startling you. "You're half an hour late, we were startin' to get worried."

"What's going on?" Ellie spoke instead of you.

"Well, we'll be heading back," He patted Ellie on the shoulder. "While the others'll do a sweep."

"But we just got here?" Ellie protested. "I thought Dolly and I–"

"Yeah, Tommy, what the fuck?" You whispered and stepped closer to him.

He huffed, it was his signature I'm just gonna put it out here so listen carefully stance: "Maria asked that you solve the issue between you and Ward."

"She didn't ask me shit, Tommy, just told me to get my ass over here. Without a heads up." You sighed and he gave you an apologetic shrug: "She's right, but is patrol really the right time for this?"

"Just shake hands and try to get along, you're partnered up with him."

Your eyes widened: "Tommy–"

"It'll be fine, (Y/N), don't worry." He said reassuringly. "Walt and Bruce went over to the back, you can fetch them and start. C'mon Ellie."

She squeezed your hand in an encouraging manner and followed Tommy out. You rubbed your face and ran a hand through your hair, then finally turned and walked over to the three: "Alright, I'll go get Walt and Bruce, then we can go."

"Sure," Joel offered a small smile and got up from where he was sitting with Kiki, but Ward remained seated with his arms crossed. You took it as an indication to wait for the others to leave so you two could finally talk.

"Well..." You said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry for punching you," He said, straight out, without dwelling on anything. "I get ahead of myself sometimes. I can't really control it when I get angry, I��� I never knew how to. It was my only way to survive... and protect Kiki."

You blinked several times at how genuine he was, even his hard expression was softened to some point: "It's, uh– it's okay. Thank you, and sorry, for your nose I mean. It was a reflex."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," He nodded and got up, towering over you, then extended a hand over to you. "We're good?"

"Sure, 'course," You nodded and shook his hand. He pursed his lips and walked out, leaving you a little stunned. You immediately sighed in relief and made your way to the back room, where your memories of fucking with Joel resurfaced and made you smile a little.

"Alright, c'mon you guys, let's go–" You walked into the room and right then, you heard panicked shuffling with a gasp. When you understood what was going on, you immediately stepped back outside: "Oh, woah–."

Were they making out?

If you were honest, you saw it coming, but it still came as a shock. You debated on whether you should leave or stay, but when you heard the panicked voices from inside, you stood there, waiting to apologise as soon as they walked out. It was Walt who opened the door first.

"Dolly– Listen," He was calmer than he sounded back inside. "You... I mean..."

"Look, let me just say this: It's none of my business, and I won't tell anyone, so... It's okay. We can pretend this never happened."

He blinked, a bit dumbfounded: "You don't mind?"

"Walt, of course not. As I said, it's none of my business."

It was then, when Bruce walked out shyly: "You seriously won't go tell anyone?"

At that, you chuckled and looked away, your eyes watering at the memory of Robin and Cole you had told Ellie: "You guys are safe with me– in Jackson. I know some people aren't very open minded here, but just know that you have my support."

Walt suddenly hugged you tightly. You took a second, but immediately returned it with a gentler one: "It's okay."

"Thank you (Y/N)," Bruce smiled sincerely.

"It's the least anyone can do – show basic human decency," You said and smiled back after Walt pulled back. "Come on now, we're already late."

The three of you acted as if nothing happened, but the couple couldn't help the smiles spread on their faces.

"Alright, Doll," Joel began explaining once you stepped to his side to get on your horse. Tommy and Ellie were long gone: "Maria asked us to show 'em how we do our patrols..."

"But?" You already didn't like how Maria picked you two for them, so you scrunched your face up lightly.

"You'll be going with Ward, I'll be going with–"

"Kiki." The name left your mouth with clear discomfort. Joel huffed at your worrisome expression and rubbed your arm soothingly.

"I rightly don't know why we're even assigned with them," Joel kissed your temple gently. "But it'll be fine, sweetheart. C'mon, we have places to cover."

You gave his hand a light squeeze and tried not to look as troubled as you felt inside when you both rode up to the couples, then went separate ways. You were quite surprised Ward actually let Kiki go with someone else– with Joel, but you kept it to yourself.

"So, I presume Tommy or Maria, or someone must've filled you in on how patrol works?" You began once your horses had slowed down the long path.

"Sort of, yeah. Joel and Tommy explained how logbooks work."

"Well, I'll start of with three things you must stick to, then– always. One: Stealth is key to everything. Keep quiet and don't draw any attention to yourself. Two: Your partner is technically your life support. You don't leave them behind, but back them up when they get into trouble and plan routes or approach tactics together. Three: If you come across anything you can't handle– anything at all, you bring your ass back to town."

"Yes ma'am," It was the first time you saw him offer the smallest smile, which softened his hardened features.

For awhile, you rode quietly, until he asked: "Say... Where you from?"

You raised a brow at his question: "Well, would you believe me if I said I don't remember?"

"How is that possible?" He tsked.

"I– I don't know," You chuckled with a hint of bitterness. "I only remember moving to San Francisco with my parents when I was... Around two?"

"Oh so you're a Californian..."

"Well, I suppose. What–" You saw the weird expression on his face: "Where are you from?"

"Idaho."

"Oh, and you're a potato farmer!"

You both shared a chuckle when he continued: "I wish that was the case. Would've traded everything to have been a potato farmer my whole life than..."

"Than what?"

"The shit I went through ever since the world fell apart."

You shrugged: "Don't we all?"

"I don't know about you, but none of those people in there –except for Kiki– would've preferred living as farmers..."

"What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, broke eye contact and his whole stance changed. It took him a few silent moments, but he spoke eventually: "When the infection took over, a small church in our town offered food and protection to everyone there. They barricaded the whole town in a short time, a lot of people died in the process, but we actually made a safe environment– not as strong and well protected like here, though. The infected weren't occupying that part of the city too much, either, so we just made decent living... But in time, the priest of the church started controlling the community. In months everyone was on their knees praying– beggin' for forgiveness for their sins so that they survive this shit..."

"Oh..." You flinched, feeling sorry for him, your heartbeat picking up in worry. You were also unintentionally expecting him to get this story somewhere, pull out a gun and shoot you, or stab you with his knife– you were expecting an Axel case. They might have come all this way just to avenge a loved one who you might have killed, and even though your mind screamed that the scenario had no way of making sense, you still kept your hand on your pistol which was strapped to the side of your thigh that he couldn't see.

"It was fucked up, and I was young, I had no choice but to follow my parents... They died years later and that was when I met Kiki. She was so pretty, and– and kind to me. I really liked her, we were around... 18 and 20 at the time, I think. She helped me mourn my parents, we made really good company. Soon I realised I was falling in love with her."

Hearing these words from him freaked you out a little, if you were honest, because they didn't look very in love; but you were also curious about what the hell had happened to them.

"A year or so later we, uh– Understand this, we had to keep it a secret. If the priest didn't see a couple fit, they'd get punished, but if he did, he'd force them to... Have children, to– y'know."

You couldn't hide the disgust on your face, but he was too focused on somewhere else to notice it, the sorrow and trauma on his face making you feel bad for him.

"We didn't know if we were more scared of the punishment, or Kiki getting pregnant– neither of us wanted a child, we were so young..."

For a moment he looked guilty for saying that, but when you reassured him that you understood, he still looked guilty and regretful: "Naturally."

"Not too long later people started picking up on what type of relationship we had. One time one of the priest's..." A suden wave of rage washed over him– He spat out the next word: "Whores, caught us hugging each other, then we were brought before the priest. He didn't see us fit because we didn't take anyone's permission to get together."

Your brows also drew closer in anger as you listened: "I'm really sorry you two had to go through that."

"It doesn't matter, it was long ago; we escaped, and now we're here," Ward suddenly fixed his posture, looking thoughtful and upset at the same time. The conversation had come to an end.

"Listen, if you ever wanna talk to someone," You spoke hesitantly. "Our head doc Katherine holds weekly, uh, conversations," You couldn't bring yourself to say therapy, even though he'd find out sooner or later.

"I don't– I don't wanna talk about it," He huffed angrily and side eyed you where he sat.

"You seem like you need to, is all I'm saying," You ran a hand through your hair, wiping some sweat off your forehead in the meanwhile. "It's okay to do that, y'know."

"I don't need it!" He growled and turned his head towards you in a harsh motion. "I don't need your– stupid conversations–"

"Hey," You pulled on the reins in your hand, hard, and came to a stop. He mirrored your movements when you growled back: "Those stupid conversations actually help people. They saved god knows how many townsfolk, and participating in them doesn't make you less of a man."

"That's not what this is about."

Sure you wanted to counter, the look of offense in his face telling you everything you had to know, but kept your tongue: "I just suggested you could go, nobody's forcing you to! Keep it in the corner of your mind if you want, I don't care what you do."

With that you started riding again, missing the look of regret and worry on his face. When he reached your side a few moments later, he spoke quietly, softer: "You're right, I'm sorry."

You nodded: "Try not to take things personally, we're not your enemies. We're just trying to help."

The rest of the ride was quiet, but the good outcome of both you and Joel's pairing with the couple unfortunately had a bad outcome for you. Maria asked you and Joel to be patient and stick to them for a month or so– at least until they start to really fit in. You had to accept, thinking of how when you first came here Walt had switched his partner's because he was the first person one to get along with you.

The problem was, you weren't exactly getting along with them, or Kiki more precisely.

You didn't know if it was because of your pride or your reluctance to make a scene about it, but you kept quiet about your suspicions about how Kiki undeniably took a liking to Joel. When you subtly asked a question about how Kiki behaved on patrol, he nonchalantly explained how she picked up pretty quickly and appeared to be a much more normal person; but you left out the bit that whenever you or her husband appeared, she'd hiss like a cat.

Maybe you were simply jealous that a pretty woman like Kiki was hitting on Joel, even though you never doubted his intentions for a second. He seemed very oblivious to her and your hints at what you wanted to say, and that was pretty much your only way of finding comfort.

Ward, on the other hand, always looked at the brink of a breakdown when it got too quiet between you two. Joel also asked about how he was whenever you discussed the pair, and when you mentioned their background and how troubled he looked ever since, he raised a brow. He also mentioned how Kiki started wearing t-shirts throughout the week –sleeveless clothing– and he thought it had to do with some sort of survival condition related trauma, while you had other theories.

Theories that you, once more, kept to yourself.

Because there were always two ends on situations like this: Your theories were correct – she was right all along! or, you thought too much of it – you're so dramatic!

It was a little frustrating, not being able to tell these to any memebers of your family, except for Ellie, who came to understand– probably better than Joel or the others would.

"Yikes, I'm sorry, Dolly," She looked troubled at your worrisome expression when you finally broke and told her about your suspicions.

"Morton's fucking fork," You sighed and ran a hand through your hair nervously. "I honestly don't know what to do, it's too early to say anything but at the same time I feel like it'll be too late if I keep it to myself."

"Well, no matter what happens," She rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. "I'll be by your side. Always."

The words caught you off guard, the frustration of bottled up feelings and the subconscious weight of keeping the truth about what happened with the Fireflies from Ellie finally shattering and setting a few drops of tears free.

"Thank you– Oh, Ellie," She hugged you where she stood while you remained seated on your chair in the kitchen. "What would I do without you?"

"I know, I'm the light of your life," She joked, which made you chuckle briefly.

"Look, I also want you to know that–" You pulled back and took her hands in yours, then looked her straight in the eyes: "That I'd do anything for you. Whatever happens, I'll be on your side too, even if I can't intervene."

An emotional scene between a girl who found her mother figure, and a broken soldier longing for a deeper sense of tranquility eventually finding it in a girl– something she thought she'd never find.

"Christ, Joel," You immediately got up from where you were sitting in the living room and ran up to your husband as soon as you saw his dirty, tired state. It was god knows what in the morning but you couldn't sleep, thoughts of Kiki and Joel keeping you up for the second time ever since your mutual patrols started three and a half weeks ago.

"What're you still doin' up?" You carefully looked him up and down with worried eyes and ignored his exhausted sigh. You quickly but carefully hugged him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

"Are you hurt?" You asked quietly after he immediately put his arm around your waist.

"Nope, just sore," He closed his eyes. "And a little dirty. Why aren't you asleep?"

You pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes, shrugging: "Couldn't sleep. And good thing I didn't."

"Dolly..."

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." You tugged on his large hand and led him up to your bathroom. After you arranged the tub to fill, you helped undress him, his pale face and tired eyes made you put extra effort to be as delicate as possible.

"You wanna talk about it?" You said after dropping his t-shirt into the laundry basket, while he took off his pants beside the door.

"There ain't much to talk about. We just..." You could feel your heart beat in your ears as you took his pants from him and repeated your motion, but froze in your place when he spoke again: "She saved me."

Your brows shot up quickly and the ache of keeping them crossed in a worried expression for so long immediately made its presence known: "My flashlight gave out, was tryin' to shake it back to life when a stalker grabbed me."

Joel scratched the back of his neck and lowered his head while you just stared and moved towards him slowly, his voice quiet: "I felt its– Its teeth on my neck right before Kiki jumped on it."

"Joel..." You sighed the moment you stopped walking, whispered, gulped and realised how bad your throat ached. He raised his head and gave you an utterly wrecking look, which immediately triggered you to walk over to him and hug him. His arms quickly shot up and wrapped themselves around your back. He buried his face into your neck this time and your hands ran through his hair, caressing the back of his neck soothingly. The way his arms embraced you was tight, but not enough to crush you– just enough to remind you where you belonged.

Home. That's what you felt like.

For the first time in many, many years, you finally found home again.

That exact feeling that made your eyes blurry with tears had struck first after fifteen years into the apocalypse, and it was the night after a particularly tough mission to handle some hunters around the area. The team had almost lost Kurt and Robin, the fear had been very overwhelming. The intensity of it all was nerve-wracking for everyone, so when Robin was back with Cole, they broke down crying in each other's arms. You couldn't bare to see them like that, so you joined with quiet whimpers and hugged them where they sat on the ground. Slowly, the rest of the group had joined, and when finally Kurt put his arms around you and them, everyone calmed down. That was home.

Family.

You inhaled his scent with tears in your eyes and a barbed wire around your throat, then hugged him tighter; the realisation of what might have happened had Kiki not been there washing over you like a tidal wave. All these months of doubting her– maybe you misunderstood her? Were you too cruel to Kiki in your mind? You sure as hell owed her now, you were more than grateful for what she did.

A sharp intake of breath from Joel and the warm wetness you felt on your neck confirmed that he was crying, so you turned your head a little to kiss his neck softly. It was rare that Joel cried, let alone open up like this, so you let him cry on your shoulder for as log as he needed. He didn't make a sound other than his occasional sniffs and sighs.

"I need you (Y/N)," He murmured after calming down a few minutes later, slowly shifting his arms downwards and kissing you deeply, pulling you flush against him. You kissed back, sighing into his mouth and slithering your hands down his back to the waistband of his underwear. You devoured each other at the doorway while the tub was still filling, the chilly yet still warm July night creating a thin layer of sweat between your bodies. He softly pushed you up against the doorframe, and his movements became more rushed the more your tongues danced against each other.

"Joel, baby wait," You pulled back and he stopped immediately. "The bath..."

You kissed a tear that was hanging on the edge of his cheek and reluctantly slipped away from his hold to turn the faucet off, and before you could turn back around, you felt his hands slowly sneak their way under your shirt and smiled softly at the feel. You turned completely, while he carefully walked you over to the counter and pushed you against the edge between the two sinks. He started peppering urgent kisses on your neck, making you sigh a quiet moan as your eyes closed, his hands roaming your body and eventually taking off the sleeveless undershirt off of you.

"What about the– the bath?" You barely managed to ask when he softly bit and kissed on the skin of your breasts, then moved down to tug your shorts down your legs.

"Later," He groaned when he saw the sight before him and immediately went to suck a few marks around your breasts, gently biting your nipples the way you liked it. You moaned and wrapped a leg around his waist so you could have his erection pressing directly against your pussy.

He lifted you up slightly and sat you on the cold counter, making you sigh as he settled between your legs, pulling his underwear off only for his erection to spring against your inner thigh. He was getting harder by the second, but before he lined himself up, he made sure you were taken care of to begin with. While massaging your inner thighs, he carefully bit and sucked on your neck, rubbing the tip of his cock between your slick folds in the meantime. You moaned quietly at his ministrations, his hands feeling wonderful around your legs.

After a while, you reached for his length and lined him up, allowing him to push in. You let out a soft moan by his ear and he did the same when he dived into your depths, then wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. He growled, grabbed at your hips and thighs and started off with a slow but somehow rushed pace.

What you liked about a slower pace, first and foremost, was how you could feel everything Joel had to offer and how much more relaxed and focused he was. You liked it when he took his time, making sure you felt every inch and vein of his length– You also liked the tension building up more this way. With the patrols and chores taking up most of your constantly changing schedules, sex had started to become a bit of luxury again, too.

Your eyes opened slowly when he called your name desperately– moaned it. You slowly pulled back from your hug and looked him in the eyes, then kissed him deeply, his rhythm stable but the snap of his hips started to become harsher. His grip on your hips were equally desperate and bruising, but you liked it; it was also your own way of assuring yourself that Joel was still here, with you.

His pace picked up the more your tongues swayed together, then his hand went to the hair on your scalp and massaged the skin there, making you throw your head back and clench down on him with a mewl. Groaning, he kissed and bit all over your neck again, the skin slapping against skin making both of you near the edge.

He suddenly pulled out and away, gently helped you off the counter and turned you around. In one motion, he buried himself deep inside you again and moaned. You arched your back and he pulled your hair into a ponytail, then placed solid, sloppy kisses on your shoulders as he fucked you from behind.

"Shit– Joel," You gasped when he grabbed at your breasts, arms crossed and slammed into you particularly hard. He was getting closer with each passing minute.

"(Y/N)..." He groaned and pressed you down against the counter, trapping you between the cold surface and his hairy, broad chest while sneaking a hand down to your clit. He slammed into you three more times, which made you moan brief but loud ahs and ohs each time; your hands clawing against his hips and arms, leaving your own marks, throwing him over the edge when he thought about the pleasure he felt when your nails digged into his skin.

You both came with loud moans and held onto each other tightly, Joel pulling out the last second even though he really, really wanted to come inside you at that moment: He would never do it without your permission and talking about it first, but the topic was never brought up by either of you.

Panting while coming down your high, you were as disappointed as Joel was when he didn't fill you up with his thick cock– you were also as cautious as your husband about this, and maybe it was finally time to discuss it.

After recollecting yourselves, you both moved into the lukewarm water in comfortable silence, Joel laying against you between your legs and holding onto your hands which you had wrapped around his chest in a hug, resting his head against your own.

Some time later, when you felt yourself dozing off, Joel hummed quietly: "If you're gonna sleep let's move to bed."

"How did you..."

"Your heartbeat got real slow, figured you were dozin' off," He slowly got up with a phantom smile on his lips and looked into your sleepy eyes. This small gesture made you smile back, and after he took your hand in his and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles, you got cleaned and out of the bath. There was much to be said, but sleep overcame you both as soon as you laid on the soft, inviting mattress.

The next morning, Joel had some business in town with Tommy while it was your day off, so you both had the opportunity to talk during breakfast. After some discussion and honesty about how you felt towards Kiki, Joel figured there'd be nothing a good dinner wouldn't fix. You had to agree because of your self-doubt, maybe this dinner would help you understand Kiki's intentions better, and it would also be your way of thanking her for saving Joel.

"I have to tell you somethin', but promise me–" Joel chewed on his scrambled eggs after your reluctant agreement to the dinner. "–You won't get mad?"

You rolled your eyes and offered a small smirk after finishing your bite: "When do I ever get mad at you?"

"Oh?" He raised a brow. "Well, I was startin' to think you were jealous of Kiki, is all."

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp: "I am no such thing! Joel Miller–"

"Oh boy," He took a sip off his coffee, having made his point.

You took a deep breath, rolled your eyes while they were closed and grabbed your own cup: "Look, I'm not jealous, I just..."

"Just what?"

You chewed on your lower lip while staring two holes into the cup in your hands, took your time to think: "I'm just worried."

"What's got you worried, sweetpea?" His expression immediately softened as he leaned forward, the pet name easing the tension in your heart a little.

"They're– really odd, okay?" You spoke quietly, occasionally meeting his eyes. "Doesn't it bother you just how different they act when they're not around each other?"

"Where're you gettin' with this?"

"I just don't want another Axel case." The room fell to a deafening silence when you said his name, but you continued when he didn't say anything: "Look, I simply can't help but think they're trying to get close to us on purpose."

"Oh darlin'," His eyes widened slightly as he got off his chair and stood beside you in a quick motion, putting his warm hands on your bare shoulders. "I understand what's got you all worried, but I'm sure this is all because of Maria puttin' us together for patrol. Don't worry your pretty little head with all o' that." He pressed you against his body in a hug, gently massaging your shoulders as he did: "Now, I gotta get goin', but when I come back I'll do somethin' to ease all that stress built up in these strong muscles of yours, huh?" He softly digged his fingers into your shoulder blades, making you sigh as you realised they were indeed very stiff. He offered a soft smile: "Agreed?"

"Agreed." You forced a smile in return, trying not to worry like he said. It was Joel, after all; if he said you had nothing to worry about, then you probably didn't...

... But that didn't mean you were going to shut out your gut feelings altogether. It was your instincts that always saved your ass when you were unsure about situations like this, or when you got in trouble with people in general. You could always beat yourself up for overthinking too much and being so doubtful of them, but for now, you were going to keep your guard up at all times and keep them at arm's length.

————

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl @joelsgeetar @sherry-212 @peachymelon69

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 019

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey everyone!! I know it's been quieter around here, but enjoy the chapter I hope! Sort of sweet filler. Billy nurses a hungover Evie back to life as they reach a common ground with their relationship. Evie returns to school as the new Keg King. Chp title is after that Depeche Mode song. TW: Light light mention of a past r*pe/abuse & Pica. Smut!!

***My tag list is wide open, just shoot me a msg to join it! Chat with me about the chapter if you have the time! Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter 19: One Caress

   Death. Hot, swampy death. Somehow mixed with frigid chills. 

   Evie cracked her eyes to light and moaned. Loud enough to wake the body spread on his back next to her. Billy spied her. Curls spiraling endless directions. Knotted all over. 

   Face pressed into the pillows, Evie held her thudding brain. Figured it might be unspooling around a cracked skull. There was movement as Billy reached over her to pull the curtains further closed and block the early morning sun. 

   “You seriously woke up at seven with that bad a hangover. Figured you’d sleep in longer. Must be a pride thing.” Billy hummed and draped his arm over her. Casual as can be to tuck back in. He made this rumbling sound into her shoulder blade and sighed out.

   Evie realized finally she wasn’t alone and scrambled up, almost tumbling over the bottom edge of the bed if Billy hadn't snatched her wrist.

   “Easy!” Came the sharp hiss. “Take a moment to remember last night if you can.” Brown eyes squinted to blink at him. Blurring the gold honey of him together. Billy made a face. “Jesus, you’re looking at me like I’m taking a dump here, Evangeline.”

   “Oh, jeez,” Evie fisted her curls so he let go. Her eyes began to dart, finding the events and piecing them. Little by little. “Jesus Dolly Parton Christ.”

   “That’s some poetry I like.” Billy reclined, covered in a loose sheet looking his insufferable cupid self. One hand behind his head while he tapped a rhythm into his abs. Evie moaned again, curling up toward the curtains.

   “I did a keg stand…”

   “Oh, yeah, you did.” Blue eyes rolled. “Your highness.”

   “Did I puke on anyone?”

   “Just some sorry ass purple primroses.” He’d snarked with some amusement. “You almost got me, but I aimed you just fine.”

   “Shit. I’m-”

   “You’re gonna piss me off if you apologize again. That’s a stupid girl habit you need to shake.”

   “Stupid girl habit, pfffs. I’m Billy Hargrove. I'm perfect and glowy with the face of a damn cherub. Know-it-all.” Evie huffed and mumbled to mock him but Billy continued.

   “You just did to me what I did to Harrington. Figure I had it coming. I’m still Billy-The Shit-Hargrove. Smoke and mirrors as you think.” His chest rose and air blew out his mouth. “We didn’t do anything, I just helped you home as you poured your tasty heart out.”

   “Yeah, uh… It’s all coming back. Argh...” Evie rubbed her face and aimlessly waved for him to stop talking. She noticed Billy still had his jeans on, no shirt. Then, spied her own outfit under the robe. “The hell are we wearing?”

   “You were keen to flash me those Fenny wiles so I tied you into the drunk girl straitjacket. Took some wrangling, but I think I earned the gold,” he blinked, “and I didn’t wear anything under the denim. I figured jeans were better than you waking to my huge, raw morning wood...unless you’re into that.”

   He winked which earned him that scrunchy scowl he loved to see on her face.

   Evie collapsed back on her front. Cursing daylight. Lingering black makeup still smeared around her eyes.

   “Okay, well, I can die now. Officially. Thank you, Billy, for bearing witness.”

   “No, no, I’m nursing you back to health today. We both smell like party. Get up. Water. Pills. Shower. Gonna shower at my place and then I’m coming back for breakfast. I’ll make your birthday up to you if you’ll let me. Hope you let me, cause I’ll bug you another two months until you don’t.” Fingers tugged for messy curls until she grumbled.

   Evie poked those bright eyes up. 

   “There was talk of a couch day. I remember.”

   “You remember everything?” Thick lashes batted the vulnerability away. She softened.

   “Everything. Feel like death,” she said, “but waking up in your arms wasn’t so bad.” Billy brightened, liking that. Maybe too much because he looked smug. “So, the couch. You and me. Us. Can you manage that? Relaxing with casual stimulation.”

   “Oh, say stimulation again. Slower,” Billy uttered and Evie rolled her eyes. “Gonna let me come back over?”

   “Maybe.” She hitched and whined, ruffling her curls. “Knowing my mom, she’s gonna stay until closing. Around six or seven tonight, she might go party straight from the shop. She's made that a habit on weekends. I don’t know, as this year is going she’s just home less. City friends. Dating. And I feel bad cause it’s almost easier.”

   Billy didn’t comment.

   “My throat still hurts from last night and we do smell pretty ripe...gonna shower. Clean these sheets too.” 

   “We haven’t even made a proper mess of them.” Billy came up on his elbows with a suggestive look. They shared another beat before his tone changed. “I should have stayed.”

   “I wish you did. But, I also wish I didn’t run into Fredrick’s arms after that dance. It was stupid. We can both make idiot decisions. Still young, I guess.” Evie turned her eyes. “But, you’re here now and we’re not yelling at each other.”

   “It’s a whole new world. Keg King.”

   “I need to forget that.”

   “School won’t. None of the schools there will forget it. Betcha even Tannen knows.” Billy pushed up and Evie followed, stretching until something cracked delightfully. “Heard from him?”

   “Something with a DUI or two… I don’t know. He made his threats already.” She stopped to pet Blue, shifting the kitten off Billy’s coat while he snagged his shirt. “Tell Max I said hi if she’s around.”

   “Give me thirty.” Billy took his coat, gave her ass a pat, and waltzed out. Unworried. Evie dragged into the shower. Stood there under the warm spray with her head pressed against the cool tiles. Swallowed some aspirin down and slid her eyes to the container of cherry red pins.

   There wasn’t a melancholy welling inside her empty gut, but she found it odd. This craving to indulge. To swallow sharp objects and let them click around musically inside her. Make them part of her routine. Eat artificial things until she was made from them. A doll on the top shelf threatening to take a tumble.

   Wet curls hung over her shoulders and breasts. Evie closed the mirror and looked at her body there. Head tilting. Towels fell around her feet. She opened her palms, arms slighting lifting in a submissive motion. Evie thought to cover herself but didn’t. Imagined a shell opening so the world could look at her. Admire her. Pluck her free and decorate her with tiny diamonds and opals. Maybe seaweed and shells like a pretty siren.

   The mirror lights washed her flesh out as they would an old starlet. Flash. Romancing Evie as she blew kisses to an empty lens, hoping to be loved beyond it. She might die if they don't all love her. Want to screw her. Want to open her up and peek inside. Flash. Keep her at arm's reach if they don't like what they see. Flash. It doesn't matter because she's still a wondrous thing to covet.

   She imagined several hands piecing her parts together. Painting them with deft brushes. Evie could sit on a shelf still. She could also let them loop red strings around her broken limbs. Contorting fingers walking her upon a empty stage with the same washed-out lights. Evie would be anything for them. Give anything for eyes and lights and brushes that caress her.

   Hands pushed her curls back over her shoulders. Evie really looked at her body. No shame. No sex. No fear. No disgust. Just flesh and blood and muscle wrapped around bones with marrow made of that electric stardust. Flesh that offended the world, they had to fetishize her to stand her. Nothing really mattered if the lights washed her away though. The lights would tell them to love her regardless because she was the next great thing.

   Flash.

   Lips pushed into the mirror's reflection, breath ghosting to leave an imprint that faded as she leaned back. Her neon demon flitting out to curl and poison the world so she wouldn't have to choke it down alone.

   “I don’t want to be them,” Evie sneered there, “they’ll want to be me.”

   They’ll claw. And scrape. And scream. And die. Just to be a second rate version of Evangeline. Steam rose around her, placed adoring kisses upon her skin.

   A kiss and a promise wrapped in that vengeful neon demon she fed and hid from the world that had ruined her. Broke her parts to pick and choose the best. A demon she still kissed and tried to preen with kindness because Evangeline tried. She tried.

   Evie hadn’t been cruel. She told lies. She made messes. But, she tried and she had always hoped that would count for something. It didn’t with her father. Or Mona. Not even Fredrick, he liked her mutilated. But, Evie tried to hold onto that kind girl with fire and hopes to create music that rained to make flowers grow even bolder. She deserves something. Anything.

   She was already carved out by this life. Felt like she might hit bone if she dug any further. Piles and piles of ash spilling out longing veins. Organs delectable enough to feed on from souls that sapped her vitality away. What else was there to do but scream until someone heard her? Scream for the girl she lost. The people who would never care to understand that. Scream until they were forced to scream over her. Until they were all roses falling at her feet.

   As she looked at herself here, Evie wondered if that girl was even alive anymore. And if she’d already let her down. If she could be forgiven. If she could forget a specific howl of thunder that came after crackling lightning. Lips near her ear to preen so sweet.

   "My little mouse-"

   Flash.

   Hands shaking, she thrust the mirror open and pricked her finger on a cherry pin. Blood beading before she settled it upon her tongue to devour it. 

   It didn’t make sense. She was happier. Today, she was better. She was in control. But, this... It was built into her. Settling comfortable with everything else. A need. A hope. A cycle. An addiction. Girlhood was a horror story written by a true romantic. This, she knew well.

   Just once, Evie figured. She could wean off it. She could gather her parts and sew them back together without help. Carve the person she lost to the world in something stronger.

   It’s fine. This is fine.

   Flash.

   Unable to see whoever was in the mirror now, Evie shut the lights out and hurried away. She pulled a long sleeve tee on with a faded floral design. Decided leggings were a god-like invention and was stuffing socks on when Billy let himself back in.

   At the sound, she clenched her stomach as if he’d walk in and see the artificial fragments that made her up now. A softer breath puffed. Everything was neatly hidden inside. Soon to be a part of her shelf collection. Footsteps came to her while she bent over to toss her wet towels in the hamper.

   “Can’t knock-?” Evie was spun around into an oncoming hard kiss. Lips colliding before Billy hitched and pulled out. Fireworks burst.

   “Hey, I waited for that.” He winked and went into the kitchen. Owned the space. “You look like hell still, Evie. Couch. I’ll make you something greasy to eat.” 

   “Ugh, I won’t even fight you on this...and you’re well aware of that.” Evie fell onto the sofa. Sagged. Heard Billy clicking around. “You’re not gonna make a mess, are you?”

   “Quit worrying, let the master work.” He peered at the kitten eagerly eating from her dish.

   Evie heard something sizzle and flipped TV channels. Turned the brightness and volume a little lower while she draped over the sofa's arm. Tried to distract herself as the meds kicked in. Melting around her pricking pin. Billy padded back in with a paper plate. Something stacked high on it.

   “What did you…?” Evie blinked and sat up to make room for him so he put the plate down. Still warm and steamy, gooey cheese oozed from fresh bread. “Grilled cheese. Oh hell, that actually looks really good.”

   “I made a bunch. Stuff that hangover.” He spied her and stole the remote. Evie was too busy leaning over to pull a cheesy sandwich apart to fight him. Readily, leaning into Billy’s shoulder, Evie got comfortable there as they shared a silence. A hot, greasy meal that was perfection. Even a few laughs over the TV. 

   She forgot about pretty made up dolls. About that girl she lost. About whatever was trying to take its place. About screaming and thunder.

   “I think we should set some ground rules for this thing since we’re obviously avoiding labels,” Evie said during a commercial, wiping her fingers on a napkin before she pushed up. “Water?”

   “With ice if you really wanna impress me.” Billy kicked back and heard her scoff. “What do you mean, rules?”

   “I mean,” the sink started running from the kitchen, “just...you wanna be with me and I wanna be with you and we’re not gonna bring a third party into that. Basic ‘don’t screw this up’ rules.”

   “Unless you’re into it.” Billy cracked his cheekiest smile as she returned. Ice clicked in two glasses. Billy put one arm up on the couch to gesture so she tucked in there. Cups clicked and they hydrated as if a mission was afoot. 

   “Ah, use the coaster.” She leaned forward so they could set the drinks down. Billy rolled his eyes and sat back, legs spreading.

   “You worry too much, I know how to tell people I’m seeing a girl.”

   “How public can we be? If I try to kiss you or, god forbid, hold your hand at school...will you be weird about it now?”

   “No, and just give me a slap if I get weird on you again.” He shrugged. “If I wanna slip you my tongue or smack your ass, are you gonna get all squirrely on me?” Billy tipped his head back when he felt her chuckle.

   “Depends on who you do it in front of. I figure you’ll use your brains for that judgment. I hope.” Came the softer reply. Evie curled into the warmth of him. Stared at his neck and watched the muscles and veins shift under tanned skin. Wondered about sinking her teeth there. “You can get handsy within reason. Do that thing where one person slips their hand into the other’s pocket as they walk.”

   “I’ll give you the John Hughes fantasy if you throw me a little pornstar now and then.”

   “Bet you think every nasty thing you say makes me blush.” 

   Evie wiggled down and settled her head in his lap. Eyes snapped down to see her face crinkle with a brighter smile, still only somewhat fatigued from the night before. Curl spiraling long over her shoulders and his thighs. He caught one around his finger. Twirled it with a thoughtful expression before he looked at her eyes.

   “You are beautiful, Evangeline Fenny.” Billy had to sigh it. A fierce and tender proclamation. A stunning spell cast over her like a thin veil. Twinkling jewels. Flash photography.

   It became clear that they held power over each other and that this was the closest she’d ever gotten to her name in lights.

   And Evie did blush. She didn’t look away from his eyes. For once. Not when they flickered to catch her gaze. Lost in Billy, she rose and turned over on her hands and knees. Leaned toward him carefully. Billy inhaled her perfume, got this fluttered look as she took his chin and tipped it to place a delicate kiss upon his throat. Another touched the line of his jaw.

   One muffled sound fused them together. Evie’s back hit the couch. The remote fell with a clatter. Fingers laced, Billy shifted her hand next to her head. Saw her pause to kiss his knuckles. Tough with scars from too many fights that burst them open. 

   Fingertips gave this gentle caress of Evie’s hairline with his free hand. Careful as if something here could shatter. Thick lashes fluttered so she turned to look up at him there. Words crushed in her throat. Almost pleasurably.

   “Open your mouth.” Billy longed to taste the fragmented syllables. Lips parted. A finger swept the kiss-puffed swell of them. “Little wider.” His own mouth curled. Thumb rubbing a circle into her chin before he came down. A vaguely sweet-salty kiss. Tangy, almost reminding him of that balmy California air.

   Evie matched him. Pushed back. Cupped his face. Made a heavenly sound that vibrated into him.

   And she leaned out as if struck by lightning.

   “What’s your middle name?”

   “What?” He laughed, watching her lashes flutter. Hand midway to touch her breast.

   “Your middle name.” Evie fingered the metal pendant when it hung down from his neck. Traced a line across his collar before tucking spun gold behind his ear. 

   “Why?”

   “So suspicious.” She tugged his tee so he’d kiss her again. Slower this time. “This, Billy, is totally a date. So, I’m asking about you about you.” Frankly, Evie wanted to know every little, silly thing there was to him.

   “Feels like that perfect, lengthy ending of a date to me.” The snark had Evie pouting. Stopping anymore kisses he dared to plant. Billy gave pause. “It’s stupid. My middle name.”

   “Well, now you have to tell me.” She shifted so he could drape his weight across her, one elbow planted near her head. Billy rolled his eyes. Cringed.

   “Seamus.” He mumbled, sparking. “Don’t laugh. Mom chose it after an ancestor on her side.”

   “Just smiling cause you told me. That’s not bad!” Evie pressed her lips when they trembled. “William Seamus Hargrove.”

   “Yeah, I sound like a creepy lighthouse keeper who's really into masturbating.”

   “One out of two.” Evie squealed as he pinched her side for that. “Marie!”

   “Huh?”

   “My middle name. Marie.” Arms looped loosely around Billy's shoulders. They wrapped each other up, spoke intimately of casual subjects. All too easily. 

   “Evangeline Marie Fenny.” He gave it a taste. Liked it.

   “Uh-huh.” Evie’s fingers twirled idle into Billy's curls, massaging circles into the back of his warm neck. “My mom got the middle name from this famous Voodoo Queen in New Orleans. She thought to name me Christine, Wendy, or Beatrice but when I was born, she changed her mind at the last minute because she saw me and said the name just came to her from this epic poem. Said it was star-worthy so she plucked it down from the night sky and kept it as her own.”

   "A star?" He panned to focus on her expression relaxing.

   "It's a lot to live up to." Something to grieve deeply in that.

   “Hm. Voodoo Queen. So, do you like to turn boys into creatures when they cross you? Frogs, goats, and bats maybe? For sacrifice?”

   “I mean, that’s the first thing they teach us, obviously. Voodoo is actually peaceful and balanced, it just has a violent misconception because of racism. It’s an even exchange of life and energy. A relationship you build with actual effort. Signature.”

   “My mom might have liked it, she was spiritual-like.”

   “My aunts know more. They were pretty worked up when my mom branched out. I like to think she balances a couple religions to get by. She does the same thing with hair styling…and boyfriends.” Evie puffed, eyes elsewhere. “Just a jukebox, she changes the song by whatever is gonna comfort her most that week. I just tell people she’s open-minded and she is.”

   “My dad hates your mom more than he’s hated any neighbor we’ve ever had. And we used to live across from these guys he didn’t like me talking to. Said they were living in sin. Well...he used worse words.” Billy admitted, vaguely entertained because Neil loved to spit words only when backs were turned. He was a coward. “They were always nice to me. Owned this fancy cake shop so they sometimes gave me a truffle if I was playing on the apartment steps.”

   “I can picture you small. Face all messy with chocolate.” Evie gushed there. “Probably the cutest thing. Bet Neil hated them more for being sweet.”

   “The one and only time he spat the word out in the open, one of those guys broke his nose. I got the brunt of that anger later, but it was worth it. Just makes me like Mona more.”

   “I’m sure.” Evie blinked, sighing elsewhere under Billy’s gaze. “My mom and I have a disconnect, but I am proud of her. She’s so educated despite having me young even if people don’t know it. She’s marched for human rights and she’s braver than she knows. She always stands for something and I hope I can one day too. Even if her big, noble causes distract from her home life.”

   Evie paused with this searching look. Unsure if she should indulge the thought that swept her eyes. Gently, she continued.

   “I don’t think her mom ever loved her. Nana was always so cold to her, not like with the older sisters. I noticed that young. She might have liked me only cause I was her one and only grand-baby.”

   “Why’s that?”

   Evie flickered her brown eyes again, frowning.

   “You can’t repeat this, not even to me.” A sigh followed when Billy nodded. “When my mom and dad got divorced...that Christmas break she took me back to N’awlins. They live in this big place, I used to think it was a castle. Her three older sisters, growing old together. Nana was with them until she passed away. I used to hang out in the attic when I wasn’t at their store. Going through boxes of memories.”

   “Yeah.” Billy nodded for her to go on.

   “My mom wasn’t supposed to be born. Nana had her sisters. She had this husband. Perfect life. A shop to pass down. One night, she was closing and a man attacked her. Held her down and…” Evie swallowed. 

   “Oh…”

   “He hurt my Nana bad. I don’t think she was ever the same, how can you be? But, she got pregnant with his baby. Kept it and that was my mom. I think my mom spent her whole life trying to make up for it. I’m sure she knew.”

   “How so?”

   “My grandfather left not long after she was born and..my Nana wrote him this letter I don’t think she ever sent. It was begging him to just take Mona and love her right. It was full of apologies and, I think she was gonna kill herself. I don’t know what changed her mind. But, I found that letter and read it. It was in my mom’s things. Under the floorboards of the first dollhouse she ever made herself. She must have found it all the same. Maybe when she was my age.”

   “Probably wasn’t an easy thing to find for her.”

   “Right. Might explain why mom can only handle the dainty things in life. She just wanted to be loved. So, I think after that...I tried even harder to be perfect for her. I know she loves me and her mother never loved or wanted her. She tried so hard for everyone even if she’s bad with the negative. We’re friends. She always tells me I saved her life so I’m scared of letting her down. What if I can’t save her one day?” Her voice cracked so Evie swallowed a lump down to level herself. 

   Billy felt that prick his heart. Deeper than he liked. But, the advice still came out clear.

   “That’s not your job, Evie, you need a mother. You have plenty of best friends.”

   “I thought she married my dad cause she loved him, but really I think she married the first person who promised to care for her. Who whisked her away from her mother’s cold house. It worked out that he was always traveling for work. It feels like everything I thought I knew about my life wasn’t real.” Evie caught herself, eyes on Billy’s pendant. She hoped it protected him. Well enough. “But, my dad. I bet he thinks about me every day. I know it.”

   It was always striking and peculiar how Evangeline spoke of her father. Billy pictured a string being pulled from her back to rattle the same peppy sayings. Over and over again until perhaps she believed it too.

   Evie paused to stare at Billy thoughtfully. With the pull of her string, she switched modes to become something else. 

   “What kinds of things to do you like to write about?” She asked with this dreamy sort of expression crossing as if the words before were all imaginary. She was fine. Her mother was fine. Her father, he…

   It was all fine. Picture perfect. Paparazzi flashing to send her into a sea of spots. Memories wiping.

   “I don’t know, anything to not be here.” Billy caught himself, both of them still wrapped around each other. “Not here, I mean. I’m here.” 

   Billy seemed to realize how present he was and shifted off her.

   “The words almost don’t sound real.” Repetition. A mild chuckle. “I’m here.” He sounded them out carefully. Evie pulled up. Stared at Billy sitting on his knees between her legs.

   “That’s it.” She said. “Labels and rules aside. As long as we’re just here, I think we have a handle on this. I can manage that, can you?”

   I’m here, Billy gave this closer look and nodded. Earring dangling. Fingers twisted his ring around.

   “Are you going to tell Neil or Susan about this?” Evie’s question made him pale noticeably.

   “Hell, no. It’s better if my dad doesn’t figure it out. Don’t like him talking to you.”

   Evie didn’t argue with that.

   “I don’t think I want to tell my mom, she’s just a lot when I’m seeing someone or liking anyone point-blank.” Evie winced.

   “Don’t freak on me if I pull from you around my dad. I don’t trust him near you. He’ll say shit and you don’t need that.” Billy peered aside until Evie took his hand, shaking it almost officially.

   “Deal. Screw Neil.”

   “Oh,” Billy laughed, “you're still a funny girl, Evie.” Eager as can be, he cupped the back of her head. Kissed her into the couch. They forgot the dull aches that kept them so grounded. All giggles, she squirmed out to escape him. Left Billy breathless and tugged as she got up. “Wait, where ya going?”

   “Um. My room. Duh.”

   He lit up and tried to play cool which melted the second he scrambled to scoop her from the floor.

   “Ah!” Evie wiggled and clung to him. Feeling his muscles bulge and strain as they always did. Made her heart sing. “We didn’t discuss this!”

   “If I can lift it, it’s mine. You spent all last night challenging me, what do you expect?” Billy jostled her which had Evie wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders. Barely squealing.

   “Okay! Don’t drop me!” She squeezed into his arms and balled up. Billy laughed all the way to the bedroom. “I didn’t wash the sheets yet.”

   “Even better, let’s make a bigger mess of them.” Billy dropped her playfully into the covers. Pulled his shirt off as Evie sat up. Eyes falling to the hard contours. He relished that she liked to look at him. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, encouraging the cool palm into his skin. Up the deft lines in his stomach. “You can touch, I won’t charge you for it.”

   She dropped the awe and pushed from him. Laughing back into the pillows.

   “You’re such a pain.” Evie stiffened because Billy dropped down to crawl up her body. Pretense gone. One hand cupped her jaw. Urged it open as fingers stroked the silky cheek. Thumb curving the swell of her parting mouth. Evie kissed the pad and let the digit slip along her tongue. 

   “You’re so good.” Billy shuddered when he felt her tongue whirl obediently around his thumb. Breathless. Evie reached down to undo his belt. Sly as can be. 

   “You’re eager.” She whispered coolly against the wet thumb tracing a line down her chin.

   “I haven’t been laid much the past few months, I’m collecting. Times I tried didn’t work. Sue me.”

   “Poor thing.” She cooed, working his zipper down until Billy bit his lip. Hips shimmied between her spread legs. He jerked her hips up to get the underwear and leggings off in one expert pull. “Did you think about me when you tried?”

   Billy narrowed on her. Sighed as a hand slipped into his jeans. Moaned.

   “Yes.” He stole himself a kiss. “Couldn’t even measure up to that kiss in the street.”

   “Remind me how that went.” Evie hitched a laugh and he smothered her down. Scared the syllables with his tongue.

   Billy pulled her hair for good measure, pushed his open fly into her bare skin. He didn’t waste time this hour as she moaned and pulled for him. Adjusted to find her core. Hips snapped together, both of them mostly clothed in disarray. A good ache built as he moved. Hard and intent like he was making an impression into her flesh. Into her marrow. 

   Evie would remember him and this time and how he played her. Totally. Neither of them would be running. This moment was about the long haul together. They kept slowing to just look and breathe. Noses nuzzling. Soft exhales in turn. Billy broke kisses to push his face up against her hair and jawline, arms sliding underneath her to cling. He let Evie whisper sweet things into his flesh. Let her hold him just as close.

   At the sweetness of her coaxing, he spilled inside her. Earlier then he meant.

   “Shit.” Billy started to push up when Evie’s legs caught his hips.

   “Stay,” she puffed, “stay like this for a bit.” She prodded and pawed, openly needing him. So very bad.

   “I’m crushing you.” He mumbled into her cheek. Trapped in heat.

   “I like it.” Evie’s arms looped his shoulders. Both of them got the shakes. “I like how you feel right here.”

   “You didn’t come yet.” Hot breath ghosted her neck.

   “It’s okay.”

   Billy blew air into her jaw. Kissed the line of it before he reached down to finish her.

   “Yeah?”

   “Ngh, yes.” She mewled out silently. "Oh, Billy." That was his favorite song in truth.

   “Atta girl.” Billy kept planting kisses. Evie twisted with nowhere to go. Whimpered until she was locking under him. Mouth back open for his slow tongue. She reached a peak and let him slowly bring her back down.

   Lips muffled into her collar. He stayed there inside her. Took every piece of comfort she offered. One hand reeled up to pet her curls. Arms kept him firm against her so he could listen to her twittering heart slow and lull. Fingers danced too delicate across flesh.

   Evie whined as he pulled out. Felt the absence burn hot. 

   They messed the sheets. She was still pulling for him until he pushed her over. Wrapped himself around her after fixing his jeans back up. Leaving them open. Evie shifted, restless until Billy kissed behind her ear.

   “Just sleep. Not going anywhere.” Billy’s words lulled her back to relax. “Quit squirming about it.”

   She stilled, fingers trailing up the hair on his arm before she dropped her head to the offered bicep. Evie tilted Billy’s wrist to see the watch, groaning.

   “It’s not even noon.”

   “Maybe you’ll think next time before you get up hungover on a weekday before eight,” Billy mumbled into the curls. 

   “Only did it for the Hargrove grilled cheese.” Evie closed her eyes to sigh. "You fell for it."

   “Guess we’re both screwed.”

   “Mm-hm.” She let her mind flutter. Felt Billy’s hand stroking her bare thigh. 

   Fingers moved up her hip. Kneading the flesh. His palm trailed over her tummy and she didn’t stop him. Didn’t clam up at a boy touching her fuller areas. Billy worshiped her skin. Breath hot into dark curls. She almost wondered if he was trying for another round massaging her hip like that with dancing fingertips. 

   “Hard to nap when you...when you touch me.” She sounded breathless.

   “Like touching you,” Billy mumbled. “Gonna figure out a way to prove it to you without the label. This thing.”

   “For a boy who likes to talk, I notice certain words are hard for you.” She felt the arm under her wrapping tighter, pulling her further into his fire. “Not judging. I have problems words too.”

   “Still good with my mouth.” Billy shifted hair from Evie’s neck and jaw. Settling his lips there, lazy as can be. “And my hands. But, you still have something nagging you tell you I’m not being truthful about the exclusive thing. Gonna figure out how I can make that up to you.”

   “If I really didn’t trust you, Billy, I wouldn’t have let you stay here.” Evie shifted around to face him, still laying on his bicep. There was plenty of fear. Fear of exposing her heart and vessels and nerves to be plucked. Fear she'd like him more than he liked her. Fear this relationship would be such an easy thing to fall into.

   "That's honest." He decided, lashes batting. Evie reached up and traced this curving line near his mouth.

   “Just be with me cause you want to be and try not to raise your voice if you’re upset." She dropped her hand. "It’s okay if you’re upset, you can tell me. It just freaks out when men raise their voices. It’s like thunder and I...I’m scared of thunder.” 

   Evie recalled the passive-aggressive way Fredrick would slam things when he was upset with her instead of outright telling her. How he’d wait until she was near tears and begging his forgiveness. Billy studied her eyes. Saw lightning flash within them. Knuckles came to her cheek. Gave an idle caress. His soft lips found her brow and lulled her heavy eyes until they began to flutter. Billy laid there and watched Evie fade, let her sleepy frame tuck into him. Under his chin. She found solace. 

   He thought of the men in her life and his life who raised their voices. Who hit. Who broke them down to a series of parts they can pick and choose from to make a doll that suited them best. This image they placed up carefully for protection, it may have shattered them both distantly. Billy didn’t want to be a piece of thunder in Evie’s life. Striking to make his points so she wouldn’t forget them. 

   But, Evie slept so soundly in his arms. Barely twitching while his hands roamed her body. Under the shirt down her bare back. Threading into fluffy locks of thick hair. These little caresses that were her lullaby. It made Billy believe with all his soul that he’d never be like them.

   And it made it so easy for him to follow her in darkness.

** ** ** 

   “You’re awfully quiet, Max.” Evie turned her head in the seat. Trees whizzed by illuminated with little flits of the morning sun. 

   “Just a test today, I guess.” Max had her backpack clutched close in her lap. Almost hiding behind it. She hinted a smile. “I gave Billy shit this morning.” Billy snorted in the driver’s seat, nodding. One hand idle on Evie’s knee. Hot through the denim.

   “She did. Neil wasn’t around.” 

   “Hey...I told Will and them I’d go to the arcade. Just to hang out after school. I’ll be home before dinner.”

   “Does Neil know?” Was all Billy asked.

   “Yes, he thinks I’m just going to see El. Stays quieter if I’m seeing the Police Chief.” Max plucked up her skateboard. “I won’t need a ride so you guys can make-out.” She snickered while Billy swerved to park at school.

   “Yeah? Beat it.” He shifted his seat, patting Evie’s knee to make her wait there. Max jumped out and hopped on her board.

   “She does seem off,” Evie remarked more so to herself.

   “Things at home are off, it’s making it weird for her and her friends.” Billy shut the door with a hard look. Exhaling out his nose. “It was bound to.” Evie watched Max skate down the hill around other students. Seemingly isolated. She didn’t push the subject and wiped the frown aside. Mauve lips upturned when she peered to see Billy staring at her face. Not reaching for a smoke yet.

   “Got something for you.” He said instead, fishing into the front pocket of his denim jacket. “Tried to figure out how to make this official for you. Here.” 

   Billy dropped a silver chain in her hand without ceremony. The silver ring he wore on his middle finger hung from it. Evie wondered what he’d fidget around with now when he was deep in thought.

   “I don’t have a class ring or Letterman jacket for you because I’m not a douche. But, guys do this. Don’t they?” Billy peered at Evie eyeing the ring before she met his gaze. 

   “It’s perfect.” She turned, gesturing so he could help her put it on. It sat lower than the little music note she usually wore. Evie debated it and pulled her dad’s necklace off, looping it around her wrist as a bracelet because she wasn’t ready to part with it just yet. Maybe it not being in plain sight would make her easier to look at for Mona. “Thank you.”

   “My mom got it for me. She had it in the family and said it would fit me one day. That and this chain.” He fingered the saint pendant. 

   “I’ll be careful with it,” Evie promised him. 

   “It sits exactly where I wanted it to.” Billy flashed some pride.

   “Over my heart?” Her eyes glimmered.

   “Over your tits.” He laughed when she shoved at him, tugging his collar in for a kiss. 

   “You’re gross,” Evie mumbled, pecking him once more. She fingered the ring and beamed. 

   “You’re into it.” Billy turned her chin for just one more. She could live in this. 

   Just one more kiss.

   Deciding to join the rest of the student body, they got out. Evie slung her strap over one shoulder while Billy held his bag in a wad at his side. They met each other around the car before Billy slipped his arm around her waist, bringing Evie into him. Fingers delved into her back pocket.

   Every teen around them took note. It was official. Comments piled in as they passed into school.

   “Great party, Evie.”

   “Looking good, you two!”

   “Love your outfit, Fenny.”

   Whistles cast and overlapped suggestively. 

   “This is weird.” Evie leaned into Billy as they got to her locker. Students looked at them together. Offered winks or smiles. Students who never addressed her much before.

   “You’re the keg king. What’s that saying?” Billy had shrugged. “Heavy is the head… Fine is the ass.”

   “I regret you already.” Evie broke to laugh at him. “Pure poetry, Billy.” She shut her locker, paused to see Heather headed her way looking apprehensive. Another smile crossed, even fuller than the last. Heather seemed to respond and follow it.

   “So, I heard I missed a piece of history.”

   “Hardly, I puked everywhere.” Evie swept curls behind her shoulder. “Billy, can Heather and I have a sec?”

   “Depends, am I still an asshole prick?” He leered over Evie’s shoulder.

   “You’re back down to normal prick status.” Heather beamed even sweeter while Billy caught his tongue between his teeth, seeming to like that. 

   “I can work with that, princess.” He tugged Evie’s curls and went around them to head to his locker before the first period. Evie shifted on her feet so they walked along together.

   “I know...things have still been kinda weird.”

   “I just figured I’d let you and Carol work through your stuff, you know?” Heather looped her arm into Evie’s.

   “Can’t without my best friend there. Sure, Carol and I are bonding, but that doesn’t… You and I went to dances together, Heather, we stayed up eating junk food and watching terrible movies. We bought our first bras together.”

   “Our mothers made that day so mortifying, I think I’m still messed up from it.” Heather giggled with Evie snorting next to her. “And you got a real B bra while I basically bought a damn bandage.”

   “We’re repressing the memory together.” Evie tugged her down the next hallway where Steve scrambled to snatch her into an unexpected bear hug.

   “Tell me it’s true, oh my god, Evie.” He was near howling with laughter. Evie, shocked that Steve lifted her feet from the floor, stammered through the broken train of thought.

   “What?” She got spun around with a cry as Heather cackled. Students hurried around them. Steve wasn't strong like Billy, but credit was due.

   “You’re the keg king?” He shook her by the shoulders. “You smashed Billy’s record in front of him. In front of everyone?”

   “I’m never drinking again.” Evie dropped her head to his chest, hands covering her face.

   "You're my absolute hero, Eves, I hope you know that." Steve gripped Evie tighter, got close like he thought to kiss her but resisted.

   “Yeah, you’re going to have to fill us in on everything at lunch.” Heather decided, grasping Evie’s hand. “Jesus, Steve, get it together.”

   “Let me have this, Holloway. She's mine.” He squeezed Evie’s amused frame back into him. “He made my life hellish.”

   “I’ll dedicate the win to you. How’s that?” Evie slipped from Steve, laughing now. “Lunch. We’ll give Billy shit about it together.” A wink that Steve matched, thoroughly enjoying this momentous day. Evie rejoined Heather to hurry toward class. “How about a sleepover? Us, Carol, and Max. I think she needs more girls in her life. No boys invited.”

   Heather hugged her books close to grin easier.

   “I’d like that.” 

~~~~~

A/N: Letting these two finally just be intimate is everything to me. Thank you so so much for reading. Comments and rbs are well loved and appreciated!! Feel free to chat with me, pretty please! Tag list & ask open. xoxo :)

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10​ @charmed-asylum​ @unmistakablyunknown​ @lukespatterson​

[secret-ssociety]

Let me down pt.2

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x reader, reader x oc Warnings: angst???, curse words, endgame spoilers, interactions that I’m not sure if can be considered fluff Summary: five years have passed and as soon as Peter comes back from the blip he undertakes a search for all that he believed would always be there, but he’ll find that many things are not as he left them A/N: I really want to apologize for how long this took, but between lack of creativity and the fact the Tumblr didn’t save the draft when I was just about to finish it, it’s finally here. Also, this will have a part three, so behold.

Masterlist

part one

Peter looked around with unease, all the people from his school that had been bliped, like himself, were sitting in the gym while the new headmaster talked, saying something about how the school’s major priority was to integrate those who had to finish their studies with the ones that were already studying, but he hardly listened a single word.

Everyone, all of his friends and some people he never really talked to, had dull expressions, all of them looked tired, all of them looked like they had been crying a lot in the past weeks, all of them were pale and had huge bags under their eyes as if they hadn’t slept in ages, and Peter knew he was no exception. 

But he couldn’t find the one dull, tired, cried-out, sleep deprived, pale face he wanted to see.

He was staring at you in the school bus when everything started, when he needed to create a distraction to jump off the bus. It had been a year since you had broken up, the most painful year of his life, and he still hadn’t been able to fall out of love with you, the way you laughed, the way you talked, the way rolled your eyes at a stupid comment and the way you fiddled with the cross hanging from your neck.

If only he had only known that was the last time he was going to see you before everything went to hell. And now they were back, everyone. Peter felt a void in his chest, a constant sadness he couldn’t seem to shake, but he knew that when he saw you in the assembly the school had called, at least something in his life would be okay.

The problem was that you weren’t at the assembly.

“Hey, dude, have you seen Y/N?” he asked Flash, who was sitting next to him, in a whisper, he received an apologetic look “No, I’m sorry” Flash whispered back, too morally tired to mock him “maybe she transferred or decided not to come, a lot of people did.”

Peter sighed and waited patiently for the assembly to be over, he would ask someone later what the headmaster had said, right now all he needed was to go to the one place he would be able to get some answers. He practically ran to the secretary’s office, just to find in there a girl he had shortly known, a year older than him, except that now she was on her twenties.

“Hi, Peter” she smiled seeing him, “hi, Jess” he answered without hiding his surprise “how are you?” he stilted her head looking at him and Peter almost whined at the tone she had used to ask that question, already used and sick of it, but kept his smile “I’m fine, thank you. I actually wanted to ask about a friend that I didn’t see in today’s assembly, maybe you could tell me if they transferred or just didn’t come..”

“Yes, of course. What’s the name of your friend?”

“Y/N” he responded sadly and Jess’ head jumped to look at him. She adjusted her glasses awkwardly “Peter, she’s already graduated,” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed “what do you mean?” he asked and she sighed “well, y’know, when what we know happened and some people vanished... some of us didn’t. Y/N was one of them, us.”

Peter fell silent. He didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t know what would’ve hurt the most. So many questions started to build up in his head while a heaving feeling installed in his chest.

“D-do you know where can I find her?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

Jess sighed and took off her glasses, looking at him with sorry in her eyes “I’m not allowed to share that kind of information.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need this job.”

“Jess, come one.”

“Peter, I can’t.”

“Is this because of what happened with Liz?”

Jess blinked. “Do you seriously think I’m reprimanding you for something that happened nearly six years ago?”

“... Maybe?”

He leaned into her desk with pleading eyes “please, I’m begging you,” Jess sighed for what felt like the hundredth time “as a secretary I can’t tell you that” Peter sighed with a nod and started to make his way towards the door defeated “but as friend asking for a favor” he turned around quickly as she looked around her office and grabbed the first she saw “I’m kind of busy tonight and I was supposed to take this, uh, house plant to this address” he saw her scribble something down on a piece of paper and handed it to him with an accomplice smile.

“Thanks, Jess” he said quickly taking the house plant in his hands.

“Thank you, Peter,” he nodded and exited the office, stopping at the door when she called him “And, uh, Peter... go there with an open mind.”

That advice confused him but he was far too happy to even think about it.

To say that he spent the next couple hours overthinking is a serious understatement. What was he going to say? What could he say after five years? Should he bring some flowers, maybe? But why flowers, when he was already bringing a house plant? Wait, was he actually supposed to bring the house plant or had it just been Jess’ alibi to suply him the address?

He wasn’t going to go. He couldn’t go. What if you still hated him? The blip was still so recent and you had probably reencountered with other people who had also been bliped, showing up at your house would be too much of a shock. Yeah, no, it was a bad idea. He would wait until everyone was chill. It was too soon.

I’ll just wait a couple days, there’s no hurry, he thought and he was sure it was the perfect approach to the situtation. Yeah, that was what he was going to do, wait. That was, at least, until Ned texted him and told him to get his shit together.

With that motivation he found himself, half an hour later, in Brooklyn standing in front of a white house with the house plant in his hands. Given the size of it, it was a family house surrounded by a beautiful garden, full of plants that required a pretty low maintenance. That was the confirmation Peter needed to know it was your house.

He knocked the door so softly he feared whoever was inside woudn’t listen, not even bothering to look for a doorbell. Almost a minute after, when he was debating between knocking again or leaving, the door opened and he choked on his own breath. It couldn’t be you. I mean, of course it was you, he could recognize you anywhere. But it wasn’t the Y/N he remembered.

Your hair was longer, falling down your shoulders like a waterfall, your body had long ago abandoned its awkward teenage years and now, while young, it was more adult. But your face, the place he stared longily. It was still your nose, your soft skin, your vibrant eyes, everything was the same but with the difference that you were obviously in your early twenties. He realized that, stupidly, his brain hadn’t really thought about the fact that if five years had passed, then you would be five years older.j

“P-Peter?” you dared to ask quietly, not because you didn’t recognize him but as a confirmation that it was really him, standing in front of you.

He opened his mouth to say yes but found a tight not in the middle of his throat that made him understand that he would break down if he tried to talk, so he just nodded.

Quickly you stepped forward to wrap him a hug and his arms didn’t doubt finding place in our waist. Your eyes were full of tears that started to get released when you felt him hide his face on your neck. It was him, how could it be?

After a couple minutes you pulled away and looked at him with your eyebrows furrowed. You were tempted to ask what was he doing there, but you didn’t want to be rude, so you asked the next thing that came to your mind “what’s with the house plant?”

“Oh, yeah” he remembered “Jess said she couldn’t make it tonight,” seeing the confusion that took over your face he nodded “so it was the alibi, then.” You wanted to ask what did he mean by alibi, what did Jess had to do with anything, what was he doing in your house, how did he know where your house was, but again that would be rude, so you invited him to come in.

Peter’s knot untangled as soon as he stepped inside the house, finding himself draped over that familiar sense of security he used to feel when he came down to your room after patrolling. Maybe you just had that effect over spaces. The place was warm and welcoming, wooden floors, a fake fireplace and a wide couch covered by a couple blankets, among other things, he found in the living room while you walked to the kitchen.

Your head was spinning. How had this happened? What was happening? What was Peter Parker doing in your house looking the exact same as the last time you saw him after being missing for five years? You weren’t oblivious to the blip, many of your friends and family had been blipped and you had already talked to them, but still you were confused. You felt like you had all the answers, and yet you had none.

“You want something?” you asked making your way to the living room, his eyes looked in your direction and fell in the glass of white wine resting in your hand with an all too familiar sparkle “can I have some of what you’re drinking?” you suppressed a chuckle because of how child-like that question had been.

“I’ll need to see your ID” you answered before coming back to the kitchen and taking out of the fridge a Capri Sun. He pouted slightly when he saw the drink but grabbed without complaining. You sat beside him on the couch, complete silence upon the room.

“Well, this is awkward” you said after a couple minutes, taking a sip of your wine and he let out a chuckle “it’s not like there’s a manual of what to say to your ex boyfriend when he shows up in your porch after five years still being eighteen while you’re... old” he says and you kick him playfully “I’m twenty-three.”

“How are you holding up?” you asked, knowing that the current situation of the world was probably more painful for those who had been lost, “I’ll be better when everyone stops asking me that” he said harshly before being able to stop himself. He looked at you, expecting to see you taken back by his bitter response but you were looking at him fondly, almost motherly.

“I know it must be annoying to be surrounded by people that don’t know how to express their concern” you said, picking your words in your head “but like you said, there’s no manual on how to approach the situation” he nodded in understanding “I’m sorry,” you nudged him softly, as saying that it was okay.

“How’s the readjustment?” you decided to ask, remembering that Peter had never been one to like complaisance. He sighed. “Well, there’s no manual” he joked “May was also blipped, so I guess that makes it easier.”

“I feel lost” he continued “it’s the same world, but at the same it just... isn’t. I’m the same person and at the same time, someone completely different” without noticing, you had drank all the wine in the glass in just one gulp, “you should see how May is doing, decorating the apartment and trying to learn how to cook, again, and it sucks” he started to talk faster “because she is trying so hard to bring her life together and I’m just... stumbling.”

None of you said anything, so silence fell upon the room once again, except this time it wasn’t comfortable, but a comfort born from a past intimacy that allowed to be quiet. “What’s going to happen with Spider-Man?” you finally asked.

“I have no fucking idea” he said, “I don’t think the world needs him anymore. Christ, I don’t even know if the world wants it anymore!” he sighed and placed the untouched Capri Sun of the coffee table, and once again silence established until you talked again, “I think it does.” He looked at you, confused.

“People felt safe with you patrolling the streets and they felt proud” you sighed “I think you should go back to it, eventually. Not necessarily demon-slaughter Spider-Man, but friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

Peter rubbed his face “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I know you do, you’ve had it in you since day one” you replied quickly. “You are entitled to your pain for as long as you need to feel it, but you’re the only person who gets to decide if your trauma is going to be the biggest part of your life. Pete, Spider-Man is part of who you are” he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were fixed on the floor below his feet “you can’t just dispose it and you know it.”

Peter looked at you with half a smile “did you grow into a wise old man in the last few years?” your shrugged with a joking smile “kind of.” You both laughed and it relieved you a little to see Peter do it. “So do you live here by yourself?” he asked looking around and your frowned a little, but the door opened before you could respond.

Peter’s heart dropped when he saw a tall, handsome man make his way into the house with a couple grocery bags on his hands. Right behind him a smaller human sprinted in your direction squeaking a loud “mommy!” 

You couldn’t help the smile that fell upon your face when you saw her with her new hoodie and her long hair falling down her shoulders, despite all the effort you had poured into a ponytail that morning. Lovingly you placed her in your lap and tucked a strand of her behind her ear before looking at Peter “Pete, this is Claire, my-”

“Daughter” he finished before you, looking at her with a big smile but teary eyes.

“And Mark” you pointed at the man making her way to you from the kitchen, having placed the bags in the counter, “my husband.” Peter felt his heart break, even you had broken up a year ago (six for everyone else), but still he stood up and shook Mark’s hand. “This is Peter” you introduced “he’s an old friend.”

How had he not seen it? The wedding ring on your finger and all the photos of your new family spread across the living room, the fact the house was clearly a family house, that reality had been all over his face since the moment he set a foot in the house and, yet, he had managed to miss it. That was what Jess had meant when she told him to come with an open mind, she hadn’t been able to find the words to tell him that you were married and had a child.

“Do you like Spider-Man?” he asked with a kind smile to the little girl who looked at him curiously, noticing that the hoodie she was wearing had a draw of him on his first suits. The child’s face light up at the question “yeah, he’s the best!”

He chuckled “I like Spider-Man, too” he murmured, still loud enough to be heard. Claire jumped from your lap and grabbed his leg, "do you want to see my Spider-Man’s Uno edition?” Peter’s eyes widened “there’s an Spider-Man’s Uno edition?”

“Mom, can I show Peter the Uno?” she asked you and you nodded with a soft smile. Practically running, she pulled Peter upstairs towards her room “it was a limited edition, so I made Mum and Dad camp with me outside the store” she told him happily.

Once in the kitchen, stocking the groceries, you broke the silence between Mark and you “he’s my ex.” He looked at you, trying to seem casual “I wasn’t going to ask,” you laughed “yes, you were. You were just trying to find the words to do it without sounding toxic.”

“Okay, you caught me” he admitted and you chuckled “so... you used to date twelve-year-olds before we met?” you looked at him raising an eyebrow “why? Is it a deal breaker?” you joked and he smiled “kind of, I’ll worry when Claire starts inviting friends over” he followed on and didn’t talk again until your laughs faded “he was blipped, wasn’t he?”

You nodded “I just... when I opened that door, he looked so worn-out and lost,” you started saying before he shook his head and wrapped his arms around your waist “you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s okay. I saw that look on my brothers too, the world is a... strange place for him right now, yet he looked for you. He trusts you and I know you care about him, whatever the reason.” 

“I love you” you said, "I knew you’d understand.” He leaned down to give you a kiss, but Claire’s hurried steps, with Peter following closely behind, interrupted you. “Can Peter stay for dinner?” she asked, while the teenager’s eyes fell on your embrace and felt a bittersweet feeling.

“Do you want to, Pete?” you asked looking at him, “I don’t want to intrude” he said shyly, “you’re not intruding, Peter,” Mark said with a smile “we did buy ice cream for dessert, a guest is the perfect excuse” an amused smile. “You what?” you asked.

Peter laughed at the look you were sending your husband, and nodded, despite the weight on his heart.

taglist: @eridanuswave @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @lovely-geek @princessdancingonthesunshine​ @marvel4geeks​

[mae-gi-writes]

Deobi Playlist (EP 10) | The Boyz Imagine

The Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Main characters: Kevin, Juyeon, Hyunjae and OC (Mae)

Sides: the rest of The Boyz

Genre: fluff, slice of life, BROMANCE BRUH

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10

-----------

"Excuse me."

"Yes," Juyeon whips his head up to see a pregnant woman waddling over to the counter with an expression that looks murderous. Holding her belly against herself with a grocery bag slung over her shoulder, she slams her entire body onto the front counter, which causes him to jump in surprise. 

"How are you, ma'am? How can I help you today?" Juyeon flashes a wan smile, used to dealing with unnerved clients. There's usually always a reason behind their madness.

"I have been waiting for at least an hour!" The woman bellows, practically red in the face, "I'm due in two weeks, and there are so many other pregnant women waiting behind me. How come it's taking so long?"

"Ma'am, I'm sorry we--"

"Do you know how hard it is for us, pregnant women, to sit here in this stuffed waiting room while babies are kicking?!" She interrupts with another yell as Juyeon's hands come up in defense, "I want to see Dr. Bae right now! Right now, you hear me? I'm tired! I want to go home!" 

Panic rises at the back of Juyeon's throat, "I--I am so sorry about this ma'am. But due to the number of patients today, the office is running a little slower than usual. I'm really sorry--"

"I don't want to hear your stupid reasons. I want my appointment!" She bellows, "Now!"

Fear coils through his stomach, a sick feeling tying into knots as his throat dries up with the countless excuses dying on the tip of his tongue. 

Shit, his heart races. How is he supposed to deal with that? 

He'd give anything to be shadowing a doctor right now. 

The door to the doctor's office suddenly slides open, revealing a gentle-eyed Jacob who's gaze quickly flits between them in understanding. The woman doesn't even wait a second, quickly twisting her body and waddling towards him. 

"Dr. Bae, I was just telling your stupid staff here that you need to speed up your process! Do you know how painful it is to be sitting around with that?" She motions towards her belly, legs wide apart and fists clenched at her sides as though she's preparing for battle. 

But Jacob's expression stays unfazed, "I apologize, ma'am. Unfortunately the speed of the diagnosis does not rely solely on me, but my patient."

"Yes, but--"

"Some have--" Jacob pauses, presses his lips together as sympathy flashes through his face, "some have difficult obstacles they've had to face in regards to their pregnancy. Not everyone is as lucky that their baby is growing up to be healthy."

The woman blinks, opening her mouth, then closing it upon realizing that she has been shocked into silence. 

"I understand your frustrations, I really do," Jacob's voice is gentle, a soothing lullaby that instantly makes Juyeon feel like the world is a better place, "but we all have to cooperate a little, work together to make this work. Don't you think?" 

For a moment, there's a complete silence so palpable that Juyeon can hear the ringing in his ears. He can feel the eyes of a multitude of patients drilling into the back of his skull and goosebumps suddenly explode along his arm at the sensation. 

"Alright," the woman finally lets out a grumble, "fine. Whatever."

And she turns around, wobbly on her feet, before plopping back down at her seat looking slightly disconcerted by the effect of Jacob's words. 

Juyeon sends the said doctor a look of utter gratefulness, which Jacob answers with a wink of his own before retreating back into his office. 

Thank god. 

---------

It's been a long day running back and forth between the maternity department and the pediatric ward, but it is only when the last patient bids their goodbyes that Juyeon allows his neutral mask to fall.

"I'm sorry doctor," he bows his head to the ground, not daring to make any kind of eye contact due to the embarrassment coiling through him, "It was my fault. I couldn't calm her down in time."

"No no," Jacob's lips curl up into a smile, face softening with understanding, "it happens all the time. Impatient patients are the norm around here. Mothers-to-be, especially."

"Still, I'm sorry."

"Did that swear you off the Maternity Ward then?" Jacob's smile widens into a teasing grin.

"Maybe."

"Well, if it's of any comfort, it's no better in the other wards."

"What do you mean?" Juyeon frowns. 

"Some of them are always looking for donors, others always doing extra shifts. The pediatric ward is the only one that's doing okay, as of late. Cancer department is just a hole of sadness."

"That's...not very encouraging."

"That's the reality of it," Jacob shrugs, "did you give it any thought? What you wanted to specialize?" 

"I don't know. Cancer, maybe. I'm not good with kids and the Cardiac Department looks like hell. Also, Organs make me squirm."

Jacob laughs at that, the sound bouncing through the room like sunlight, "that's exactly the same reason why I didn't want to specialize in surgery."

"That makes the two of us."

After packing up their belongings and clocking out for the day, Jacob offers to buy Juyeon dinner as a thank-you for helping him throughout the day and though the latter tries his best to refuse, the doctor insists that it's just something he does with all of his underlings, and that not treating Juyeon would just not be right. 

So Juyeon has no other choice but to follow as they walk to the parking lot. They unexpectedly bump into Hyunjae and Changmin in the lobby, causing Jacob to invite them both to join. 

"Why Jacob, I think that's the first time you're buying me dinner," Hyunjae can't help but comment as they settle at one of the tables of Mama's chicken, a small restaurant just down the street from their hospital. Juyeon smacks his thigh in protest, aiming to be subtle while the former stifles his groan of pain. 

"What?" Hyunjae hisses venomously.

"You don't say those kinds of things," Juyeon hisses back.

"You only care because you want him to give you a good review."

"Piss off, Hyunjae." 

The dinner goes surprisingly well considering that Juyeon isn't really familiar with Jacob. Having Hyunjae helps ease the tension between the interns and the doctors, lightening the atmosphere and loosening up his tongue. They share stories about patients, heart-wrenching stories about the ones they lost, and the ones that they managed to save. The more they spoke, the more Juyeon felt like this was the right path he'd chosen, after all this internal dilemma that had cost him a few years. 

"So why did you want to study medicine?" Asks Hyunjae to Changmin, who is already slightly flushed from his second beer. 

"I--uh--I just wanted to make the world a better place," Changmin stammers, ears flushing red, "I don't think I've considered anything else."

"See, this is the problem with interns," Hyunjae shakes a hand at him, "you guys think that being a doctor is honourable. It fucking sucks, okay? Like, it's really shitty. The shittiest of everything shitty in this world."

"Not all that shitty," Jacob intercepts.

Hyunjae scowls at him, "for you, maybe. You work in the Maternity Ward. What's the worst? That a pregnant woman comes screaming at you?" 

At that comment, Juyeon can't help but glance at Jacob, eyes meeting for a quick second in understanding. 

“I think I got used to that,” Jacob answers with a small smile, “Pregnant women don’t scare me.” 

“You’re brave, Dr. Bae,” Hyunjae sniffs, “there’s no way I’d be able to make it.”

“Do you regret choosing to be a surgeon?” Changmin pipes up.

“Nah,” Hyunjae flashes him a grin then, leaning back against his seat and poking Juyeon’s neck as he does so, “couldn’t find myself a better match. Surgery is all I live for. It’s like me against death, and most of the time, I always win.” 

“And the times you don’t?” 

“You win some, you lose some. That’s the reality of it.”

When Jacob and Changmin bid their goodbyes, Juyeon accompanies Hyunjae back to the hospital -- the latter has a night shift. It is his second one in a row -- while throwing his friend a couple of worried glances out of the corner of his eye. 

He knows more than anyone how much Hyunjae gives to the people. No matter how much bravado he puts on about doctors and how medicine really is like a beast you can’t tame, there’s definitely always a sparkle in the said doctor’s eyes whenever he talks about it. Juyeon admires that, and he admires Hyunjae (not that he’ll ever tell him though), but his stomach can’t help but churn with worry when he notices the darkening blue aprons underneath his friend’s eyes, or the tiredness lining them, red-rimmed and mouth pulled down in a way that only suggests he lacks sleep and energy. 

“Hey,” Juyeon speaks up when they reach the hospital doors. Hyunjae looks back at him as he says, “try getting some sleep. You look like crap.” 

“Thanks Juyeon. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I’m serious, Hyunjae. Continue doing that and you’ll pass out in mid-surgery.” 

“Yeah yeah,” the older man sticks out his tongue in retaliation, “I hear you, mother. You heading home now?” 

“Yup. I’m done for the day. I got tomorrow off too.” 

“Lucky bastard.”

-----

Tagging: @juyeonzz @thesingingfae1905 @gratefulmaria @nochuu17​

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Also, for all those who have sent me requests, don’t worry I’m working on them! they shall be up soon! <3

I’M SO SORRY IT’S SO SHORT FML BUT LIFE IS GETTING IN THE WAY AND MAE IS TRYING TO ADULT AND GO TO JOB INTERVIEWS SO YEAH IM SORRY FHSDLSDLKJDBUT I HOPE YOU LIKE ALL THIS BROMANCE. 

NEXT EP WILL BE FULL OF MAE AND KEV SFKSDHGKDSJGDSLGLDKN <3 

[mariahschoices]

Beloved

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader/OC

Word Count: 3902

Theme: Fluff/Smut

This is part 2 of this story: https://mariahschoices.tumblr.com/post/189983728802/unloveable

You couldn’t help the shock to your system, as Bakugo admitted that you had been right all of those years ago. Surely there was some misunderstanding.

“I may be a top hero, but being on top isn’t everything. It took me a long time to realize that, actually. I think...” he paused, seeming to realize how out of character he was acting by admitting his unhappiness to someone who he barely knew.

You gave him a soft smile. You didn’t really feel sorry for him, after all he had all of the ingredients he needed to make a great life. You figured he was just too much of a stubborn ass to seek out what he really needed to find true happiness in life.

“It’s actually my birthday today,” he continued, changing the subject to more optimistic topics.

“Oh, sh- shoot! I’m sorry. I’m sure you have better things to be doing today than sitting here with me. Thank you again for meeting up with me. I’m sorry for taking time away from your birthday plans-”

“Actually, meeting you for coffee today was my only birthday plan,” he interrupted with a grunt, peeling the drink label off from his coffee cup as a distraction.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but you supposed it made sense considering the somber mood than emanated from the man.

“Well, if you want, I mean I’m sure you’d rather do something with your friends, but...” you bit your lip slightly, feeling compelled to ask to hothead to hang out, even though you felt it was probably against your better judgement.

“We can do something together. Hang out. Whatever you want. I’m still on leave from work since I’m in recovery, and I haven’t done anything fun for a while,” you admitted, a slight blush smattering across your cheeks at your confession.

Bakugo seemed to mull over your words for too long. As you were about to take back your offer in an effort to save face, Bakugo mumbled his response.

“Okay.”

Okay? You could work with “okay.” Hell, it was more than you had expected from him.

“Okay,” you repeated at him, sealing your decision with a small smile.

________________________________________

Bakugo was an avid rock climber, and even though you were terrified of heights, you agreed to let him pick the activity for the two of you. It was his birthday, after all. He had his personal fair share of ropes, carabiners, and other various equipment, choosing to forego a climbing gym in favor of the open air. Upon arriving cliffside, he finally seemed to notice the nervous buzz that continued to grow around you with each passing moment.

“Everything okay?” he eyed you, gauging the terrified look in your eyes with mostly amusement, sprinkled with a mild dash of concern.

“Yea, I think so. I’ve never done this before. I’m actually terrified of heights.”

You avoided all eye contact with him at your admission, choosing to stare at his shoes instead. They were black with an orange “X” across the top, matching his hero costume. He must have had them custom made.

“Tch. Shitty woman! Why would agree to do this then?!” he started packing up his climbing materials, conceding that this excursion probably wasn’t going to happen anymore.

Without thinking, you reached out, grasping his muscled forearm to halt his actions. You hadn’t thought he would take your feelings into consideration. It had surprised you, and you decided that you wanted to do this for him.

“No, no. Please. I want to do this with you,” you pleaded, looking into the endless red pools that were his eyes.

“Fine, we’ll do the short side of the cliff, then.”

Without another word, he gathered his things and headed down the dirt path to your new destination.

Once you arrived at the designated area, he paused to strap you into a harness, snap on your helmet, and make sure that everything was thoroughly secured before getting himself ready. His quick and efficient movements warmed your belly and caused a stinging pink blush to overtake your cheeks. You had to pinch your inner arm to get yourself under control. He probably just didn’t want to have to deal with the likely outcome of having to scrape your mangled body off the ground later if he risked letting a novice like yourself get geared up on your own.

Bakugo coached you through the entire experience, a soft look of pride on his face as you reached the top of cliffside. The wooded area you were in was well known for its breathtaking views of the river valley, and hiking was something you were much more comfortable with. Bakugo stashed your gear in his backpack as you agreed to hike further up to get a better view of your surroundings.

By the time the two of you reached the top, the sun was starting to set, and the beauty of the landscape that surrounded you nearly took your breath away. The moment seemed to bring a sense of peace and hopefulness that you hadn’t really felt since your husband passed away. You regretfully had isolated yourself from your work, your family, and your friends to mourn your loss alone until you had finally decided to seek help.

Bakugo interrupted your silent reverie. “So, twelve steps, huh? Not that it’s really any of my business, but is there anyone else you need to apologize to?” Bakugo asked curiously, unable to keep the question inside of him any longer.

“Actually, just one,” you blushed, wondering if you should admit the truth to him. “I didn’t really get into much trouble in school, and I got married so young that there wasn’t too much that occurred for me to have any need to apologize. I guess I’m pretty boring,” you admitted, almost ashamed as you compared yourself to such an accomplished man as Bakugo.

“So, who then?” he continued, unknowingly prying into a memory that was directly related to the man himself.

“Monoma,” you chuckled, preparing yourself for Bakugo’s reaction to your admittance. “I punched him actually, back at U.A. Gave him a fat lip.”

“Holy shit, you’re serious? What did that idiot do to you?” Bakugo couldn’t contain his shock that such a sweet, er, boring extra had done such a thing, though it had probably been deserved, considering who it was.

“Erm,” you bit your lip slightly in hesitation, “well, it was about you. He said that he was better than you and that you’d never achieve anything with your head so far up your-” you stopped before you could embarass yourself any further, risking a glance at Bakugo.

The soft colors of the sunset reflected in his eyes as they stared down into your own, a soft smile overtaking his face at your confession. You really were something else. Though his birthday hadn’t gone anything like he’d planned, he was grateful for how it’d turned out.

________________________________________

By the time the two of you approached the base of your climb, the moon and stars were already out. You were both covered in a sheen of cooling sweat, and your stomach rumbled with hollow rebellion, so loud that Bakugo himself could hear it. A genuine chuckle erupted from his chest, surprising you.

“If you’re hungry, I can feed you. A reward for facing your fear.”

Bakugo was eternally grateful that it was already too dark outside for you to see the tips of his ears turn red. He couldn’t believe that he was inviting you back to his apartment, even for the innocent enough reason as to fill your stomachs.

“Uh, sure, if you don’t mind? I mean I could pick something up on the way home if you’d rather-”

“I hope you like it spicy,” he interrupted your protest, thereby deciding your plans for the evening.

________________________________________

After the two of you reconnected, you found yourself spending more and more time with Bakugo. He surprised you with how considerate and caring he could be. it was a side that you had never known before, even though you had grown up alongside each other. His good mood from spending time with you began to bleed out into his work life as well, causing him to blow up less during interviews, and public opinion polls were even starting to place the hero above his long-time rival, Deku.

Bakugo supported your sobriety, and you found each other to be a pillar of strength whenever days were particularly hard, whether that be with work or your personal lives. He helped you get to point where you were ready to go back to work, and he even began inviting you to hero events where plus ones were encouraged. Being in your company made the otherwise unbearable evenings seem almost fun.

On one such evening, Bakugo watched from afar as you loaded up your plate with bite-sized appetizers. You looked breathtaking in your elegant dress, your soft face framed with tendrils of hair that completed your stylish updo. Kirishima interrupted Bakugo’s ogling as he followed his line of sight, giving a knowing shove to his shoulder.

“You’ve got to tell her, man.”

“Tell who what, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grunted, distracting himself by rendering his attention to the band that played on stage.

“You know who, and you know what. And you can drum better than these dudes after a double shift patrolling, so don’t try to act like you’re interested.” Kirishima continued, effectively serving to shut him up. ‘

“You two spend all of your free time together. We haven’t even had a guys night in months. It’s time, man.”

“I don’t want to fuck this up, man. She was married, after all. She’s.... different. I feel different when I’m around her.”

Kirishima’s eyes darted across the room, finding his wife standing beside you, engaged in gossip and weighing in on what dishes were your favorites. “I know exactly what you mean, man. I found someone who made me feel different too. And you know what I did? I married her.”

________________________________________

Bakugo was no pussy. He knew Kirishima was right, and he knew that he had to confess to you. You were an amazing woman, and if he didn’t at least try, he knew someone else would. He tried to ignore the fear and anxiety that rattled his insides. He knew that you cared for him, but he didn’t know to what extent. And he had never wanted more with a woman. He never wanted to walk beside of someone - to belong to someone, and have them belong to him - the way that he wanted with you. The new feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

You had agreed before that night’s event to stay with Bakugo at his apartment after the evening commenced. The event wouldn’t be over until late, and since both of you planned on having a few drinks, he didn’t want to risk you trying to make it back to your place on your own. The overwhelming need to protect and care you had convinced him to make the offer, even before he’d decided to admit his feelings to you. He just hoped he wasn’t about to ruin things.

You sat at his kitchen island, watching as he poured a drink for the both of you. His own would be a dose of liquid courage, and you simply wanted to enjoy yourself now that you were in the safety of his apartment.

You always felt safe around Bakugo. Safe and happy. You felt feelings around him that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You watched as he made his way around to the other side of the kitchen island. His suit jacket had been removed, and the top two buttons of his white button-down had been undone. You couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that spread within you from the center of your body, making its way outward and making you feel too hot, still in your formal dress.

“Bak-”

“I have to tell-” he interrupted, stopping you from probably saying something that you shouldn’t. You couldn’t help the way that being around him like this, being beside of him all night like you were his, was making you feel.

“Go ahead, sorry,” you encouraged him to continue.

“I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable by saying this, and you don’t have to say anything back, but... I have feelings for you,” he admitted, getting it all out without even taking a breath, as if taking a pause would deter him from admitting it. Seeing that you didn’t look upset, he decided to continue.

“These last months, spending time with you, have been the happiest times of my life. I feel like I can be myself with you. A better version of myself. You... make me better,” he finally finished, a blush overtaking his face as he paused to take a long swallow of his drink. There. At least now his feelings were out in the open for you to do with as you pleased.

“Bakugo-” you started, not really knowing what to say as his feelings took you by surprise. You could have never in your wildest dreams imagined that he felt the same way that you did. The hard, unyielding, “doesn’t need anyone” hero, Mr. Ground Zero, wanted her? Maybe even loved her?

“You don’t have to say anything. Please. We’ve both been drinking. I can take the couch, you can have my bed, or if that makes you uncomfortable....”

“Bakugo-” you interrupted. He seemed like he might be spiraling. You’d never seen him like this. It was absolutely adorable, and you decided to put the poor man out of his misery.

“Bakugo,” he stopped, letting you finish what you had to say. “I feel the same way. I’ve loved spending time with you and getting to know you better. I want you,” you smiled, your eyes twinkling as you gauged his flustered reaction with adoration.

He made his way to your side of the island, taking your face between his hands, softly holding onto you as if you might break or disappear at any moment. He leaned in to taste your lips, causing you to softly gasp against him. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue between your open mouth, causing it to slide against your own in a battle for dominance.

Your own hands acted without thinking, reaching out to touch his chest, his broad shoulders forming a solid wall in front of you. Your fingers slipped to touch his bare skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, and he let out a deep groan from within. You could feel his heart battering under your right hand like a drum, and you knew that your own heart matched his, in a combination of nerves and excitement that this was finally happening.

He drew back to look into your eyes, and was met with a look of pure lust as he took in your slightly opened mouth, panting and gasping for air. His hand moved around to the back of your head, tangling in the soft strands of your hair and pulling it undone with a gentle tug.

“I want you. Can I take you to bed?” he urged, his voice taking on a husky tone that caused heat to pool into your underwear.

Quickly nodding in response to his request, he picked you up off of the stool you sat on, his strong arms holding onto you as if you were light as a pillow. Your legs wrapped around his body as your hands continued their journey, making your way down his arms and feeling him up, causing a cocky smirk to grace his handsome face.

He leaned in as he made his way into the bedroom, pressing his lips to your neck to gently suckle the skin there, causing a gasp to tumble from your lips.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered to you, causing you to redden even more than the actions that the two of you were performing.

He released your body, causing you to land softly on his bed. You were overwhelmed with the smell of him. Knowing that you were in the safe space where he laid every night, and thinking about what you were about to do in said bed, caused a sinful warmth to overtake you body, filling you with need for the man in front of you.

Bakugo crawled on top of you, a knee between your legs and the other resting outside of them, causing a delicious pressure to graze against your heat. He continued to kiss down your neck and across your exposed collarbone.

You untucked his dress shirt from his pants, pushing your fingers up and under to graze his chiseled abs. Fuck. You wanted this man and he was entirely too clothed right now. You pushed his chest, and having not expected it, he fell onto his back with a soft thump against the mattress. You straddled him, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, revealing his naked torso to you. You leaned down to mimic his earlier actions, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and chest. You could feel him grow harder underneath you, the thin material of your dress leaving very little in a way of a barrier.

Your body started to act out on its own, softly grinding against him as his erection pressed into your thigh. His hands slid under the bottom of your dress, grazing your entire body with his fingertips as he pulled to soft material over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie.

His eyes drank you in, and the look he gave you caused your core to throb. You unzipped his trousers, palming him through his underwear before you shuffled down the bed to pull his pants from his legs. The massive tent in his underwear caused a thrill of excitement to rush through you, a fresh wave of wetness joining your already damp underwear.

You crawled back up his body and you started to kneel, intending to remove the last barrier between you and his naked body, until his hand moved up, grazing against your inner thigh to softly cup your wet panties. He gently rubbed against you, causing a needy moan to escape your lips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I’ve let you take control for long enough, baby.”

He shoved his knee back between your thighs, flipping you over with ease as he leaned down to kiss your breasts, covered in the thin lace of your bra. Your nipples pushed against the fabric, and his lips gently bit down on them, locating them with ease, causing you to let out a long moan. His fingertips teased their way into the side of your panties, finally touching your bare sex and momentarily grazing where you wanted him the most.

He lifted his fingers back up to his lips, tasting your sweetness as he closed his eyes to savor the flavor. As he reopened his eyes again to look at you, he looked almost as if he were a man possessed. Driven by love and lust, he ripped your bra and panties off as if they were made of paper.

He made his way between your thighs, nipping and biting the soft skin along the way, before taking a long slow lick across your entire slit. He kissed the skin there as if he were kissing your mouth, making love to your pussy and letting you know just how long he had wanted to do this to you. He slid his tongue in and out of you, drinking down your essence as it spilled from your body. He moved his mouth up to gently suckle your clit, swirling circles around it and flicking back and forth with gentle pressure.

He leaned up to insert a finger into you, feeling as your body clamped around the digit. He massaged you from inside, adding another finger to prime your needy body for his cock.

He leaned over you again, coming face to face with you as his fingers continued their actions, kissing your lips as his hard member grazed against your lower belly. You threw your head back as your climax suddenly took over your body, causing a fresh wave of wetness to coat his fingers. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you.

He looked into your eyes again, asking for final permission, which you answered by grasping your hand around his firmness. You pumped him a few times, lining him up with the center of your body. He leaned down, pushing into you as you leaned your head back with a long moan. He groaned as he pushed himself all the way into you, feeling as your body clenched around him, still recovering from your recent orgasm. He nuzzled against the side of your face, kissing your lips and neck as he began began to move.

It was like his body was made for you. You were so deliciously filled, and as he began to pick up the pace, he held his hands under your hips to grip your ass, your body meeting his thrust for thrust. Your whole body was shaking in pleasure, and he felt himself rabidly losing control. He released one side of your body to reach the front of your body, massaging your clit as he continued to thrust into you, causing another orgasm to crash over you, your body squeezing him as he groaned out in pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunted out, his movements getting sloppier as he chased his own release.

“Cum, Katsuki. Cum in me.”

His name leaving your lips with such sweet, sinful desire pushed him over the edge. He pushed one final thrust into you before he emptied himself inside you.

He leaned over the side of your body, remaining inside you as you each caught your breath. He rolled over onto his back, wrapping his arms around you to carry you with him, your head laying on his chest. You couldn’t contain the emotions that you felt for this man.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered, thinking back to that day in the lunch room, and about just how wrong you were. “You’re not unloveable, you are my beloved, and you mean so much to me.”

He couldn’t help the tears in his eyes at your words as he leaned up to kiss the top of your head to utter his response. “I love you, too.”

________________________________________

After the two of you had had a chance to catch your breath, you took a shower together, taking turns under the stream of water to wash each others backs and sneak little touches here and there, gradually getting each other worked up all over again. You stepped out of the shower, drying off with a towel and dressing yourself in one of Bakugo’s shirts, which was more like a dress on you.

You made your way over to the bed, snuggling into his side as he reached around, cheekily grabbing a handful of flesh. You looked up at him from under your eyelashes, softly touching his cheek as you engaged your quirk, slowing down time as the two of you consumed each other.

“No need to rush, Katsuki. We only have forever.”

[buckysmischief]

Spaces Between - 1/?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: The Snap took everything from you, who knew Loki would be the one to put back all your pieces?

Warnings: thanos doesn’t kill loki, everything else is cannon with IW & Endgame (im sorry), language, fluff, angst

AN: Tessa is an oc, readers best friend

FTS Masterlist | Series Masterlist

☄︎

Spring 2018, 5 minutes later

“Yn, wake the fuck up!” Tessa panicked, pouring cold water on your face. You sat straight up, wishing she’d have just slapped you instead.

“How many times have I asked you not to do that?” you grumble, wiping the water off your face. “How long was I out this time?”

“About five minutes, where did you go?”

You passed out for two minutes the first time you teleported from your apartment to California, but once you got used to traveling greater distances your body got used to it. Space though? It was surprising you woke up before the day was over.

“Uh.. I’m not exactly sure. Loki got me there, I just brought us back. Oh shit! Thor and Hulk, I gotta go get them!”

Before you could get up and attempt to travel back to space, Loki was at your side. “The bifrost opened while you were out, but we do need to find the Avengers. Thanos is coming and as much as I hate to admit it, I think it would be best if we worked together.”

“That big purple guy? What’s his deal?” you ask.

Loki explained everything to you and Tessa. The stones and what Thanos plans to do with them, even what Thanos has already done throughout the galaxy. You then explained to him what happened to the Avengers in Berlin, but reaching out would still be a better option.

“Do you know where we could find them, can you jump there?” you’re not an expert on Loki by any means, but you’re positive you can hear panic in his voice.

“Yeah, let me get some things together really quick and we can go.” grabbing Tessa and pulling her into your room.

There was too much going on. Not even an hour ago you were on a run in the park and now you had to help prevent half of the galaxy from dying? What were you even supposed to do? It’s not like you’ve had any training, just what you’ve picked up on your own.

“Tess, I need you to stay here. Call out of work if you have to but please.. don’t leave the apartment.” you were throwing clothes into a bag, not even realizing you were panicking until Smokey rubbed against your leg. You didn’t even want a cat, but Tessa insisted. And she was right, Smokey was basically your emotional support cat at this point.

“I will, Yn. But you gotta go save the world. I love you!” She gives you a hug and pushes you to Loki. “And you, keep her safe.”

Loki nods, “I give you my word, no one will lay a finger on her.”

Later that day, after Thanos

After leaving your apartment with Loki, you ended up arriving at the compound the same time as Captain America and a few others. No one was happy to see Loki, but once Bruce Banner told them what had happened (and that Thor thought he had died), everyone felt better about you two traveling to Wakanda with them.

The battle was unlike anything you’ve ever seen, worse than the battle of New York. When everything was said and done, there were bodies and blood - and dust - everywhere. But Loki kept his word. You had a few cuts and bruises, sure, but you were alive. The same couldn’t be said about half of the world, or anywhere else for that matter, though.

You were still on the battlefield with Loki, neither one of you were there when Thanos showed up. When he noticed you watching soul after soul disappear, he suggested you go back home to check on Tessa and Smokey.

“I’m afraid they won’t be there.” you finally look up at him, tears falling down your face. “They’re the only family I have left, what if they aren’t there?”

“I’ll go with you, you don’t have to do this on your own, little one.” He wrapped his arms around you and waited until you were ready to leave.

When you jumped to your apartment, you landed on the outside of your door, too afraid to open it. “It’s probably best to just get it over with..”

“I know, I know,” you turned the knob, immediately hearing The Office playing in the living room. You grab Loki’s hand and push the door open, venturing further into the apartment.

It wasn’t an act of affection he was used to, and his first reaction was to jerk away. But then he felt you squeeze his hand for comfort. He felt his heart swell, silently vowing to always protect you from this moment on, feeling great pride knowing you saw him as your protector.

You walk through the kitchen and yell out for Tessa, even shaking Shadow's favorite toy, but you didn’t hear anything. Loki helped you check the bathroom, her bedroom, your bedroom. Still, nothing. You had been saving the obvious option for last, hoping, praying that your worst fears weren’t coming true.

As you walked into the living room you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, but then you looked to the spot on the couch where Tess and Smokey sit and just see a pile of ash. Loki saw the look of your face and was standing ready to catch you any way you fell. But you just stood there.

Numb.

The only person in this world who really knew you was gone. A victim to a war she had nothing to do with and yet she’s gone, not knowing what the hell was happening. It wasn’t fair. You failed to stop Thanos and yet here you were, alive. But all of these innocent, good people that had no fight in this war were just gone.

“I.. I need to get away from here.” you whisper. “I’m gonna pack, you don't have to come-”

“Nonsense, of course I’m coming.” he interrupted. “I told you you didn’t have to do this on your own and I meant that.”

You went to your room and packed all of the clothes that you could, and all the other essentials. After grabbing your bag you stopped at Tessa’s room and opened the door, working yourself up to go in. “What do you need in here?”

“Tessa’s blanket,” you sigh, “it was mine but she just loved it so much I kinda just let her have it. I can’t leave it here.” Standing up, you fold the small blanket and hold it in your arms.

You both leave the apartment and discuss ideas about where you could lay low for a bit, until you know it’s safe. Loki had been the one to remember the bunkers Rhodey was talking about the day before. When Tony Stark remodeled the Compound he added some bunkers, because apparently, you have to be prepared for everything.

Instead of jumping there, you decided you needed a walk. You needed to process everything that happened and maybe walking for a couple of hours would help, but by the time you found a bunker your thoughts were still a mess.

When you looked around to see what all you had, you noticed there was plenty of food and toiletries, even a tv and radio. There was even a small kitchen and bathroom, but there was only one bed which might make things a little awkward. “It’s not as tech’ed as I imagined, but this will work.”

“Agreed. I’m going to take a shower and get some rest, I feel like you should do the same.” He was genuinely concerned about your mental state, and you knew he was right. “Okay, I’ll make us something to eat while you shower.”

While Loki was in the shower, you could only think about two things. 1) Tessa and Smokey, and 2) the sleeping arrangement. You hardly knew the man, but he’s done nothing but make you feel safe. And you didn’t know if it was losing Tessa, going through all that you had with him today, or a combination of both, but you wanted to keep him close.. you just didn’t know how to ask.

As you heard the water in the bathroom cut off dinner was ready, just regular spaghetti, nothing special. It was one of the few things that didn’t require much effort to make. Shout out to whoever's idea it was to add a spice rack, though. It was obvious to you that Loki had never had anything like it, but he was kind enough to give it a try.

“So,” he stands up from the table, putting his dishes in the sink, “I can sleep on the couch if you’d like.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, that couch is way too short for you. We can.. we can share the bed, if that’s fine with you” you suggested.

“I’d like that.” was all he said before he left you alone to take a shower.

☄︎

Permanent tags: @sociallyeneptbarnes @rogvewitch @saturn-aka-six @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @infj-slytherclaw @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @aestheticrelated @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @sebbbystaaan @disaffectedbarnes @buggy-blogs @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @sandyclaws @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @actualdpshuri @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @mushyjellybeans @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama

[jasontoddiefor]

Idk if you write ocs, but if you do, can you write something about a male teen vigilante that was Jason's best friend? Something angsty but with a happy ending maybe, like Jason feels all alone after he came back and oc yells at him and makes him see he really cares about him?

Well, I wasn’t writing it before but now I sure am. Hope you enjoy this!

There was not a lot to be said about Arlo Temmings, exhausted high school student, but plenty about the upstart vigilante Stardust. Stardust was not affiliated with the batclan, not really, but Arlo supposed that had more to do with the fact that he really wasn’t the heroic, batarangs blazing, taking down mob bosses kind of vigilante. Arlo’s powers allowed him to heal others, given that he was physically well enough and had eaten enough. He’d always thought all those videos about metahumans and their heightened metabolism were jokes, but ever since he’d woken up with the ability to literally kiss away bruises, he’d been eating nonstop. Protein shakes were his new favorite breakfast, lunch and dinner because you could only eat so many pizzas before you started throwing them up on sight.

Arlo hadn’t even wanted to become a vigilante or do anything that had to do with healing. Honestly, he was planning to graduate high school with a just average enough GPA and then get some average job somewhere. He used to have bigger ambitions when he was twelve and had the coolest best friend possible.

Well, Jason Todd had been the tutor he’d gotten through their schools’ exchange programs, but he’d acted more like a friend. A very nerdy friend who was the living proof that some people got extremely lucky in life while others didn’t, but his friend nonetheless. Jason had planned to get a college degree at a fancy school, out of Gotham and told Arlo he should dream bigger as well, like graduating with honors big. Studying architecture.

Jason would be pretty disappointed to see how terrible Arlo’s grades had gotten, but Jason was dead and dead people couldn’t do shit.

So Arlo knew pretty much nothing about how human bodies worked except that the mitochondria were the powerhouse of the cell. Arlo had been flunking his biology exams ever since he had first been forced to learn about the fact that plants didn’t, in fact, just grow when Poison Ivy decided that now would be an awesome time to wreck an entire city block.

She’d also been the reason he got pushed into this whole hero business. Turned out that Arlo’s abilities were immensely useful when it came to disaster relief and so Stardust had been born. Crime Alley’s very own non-violent superhero, running around in a black hoodie, a Venetian mask covered with stars, and dark, paint-splattered jeans. Nobody had tried to hurt him yet when he walked out. Pushing the bats around who were all too willing to put you away for life was one thing, hurting the kid whose voice cracked when he was nervous, but could heal your broken bones while glowing like a supernova was something different. Arlo enjoyed his immunity, really. He only wanted to help others, make the world a slightly better place. He’d grown up staring at the pretty buildings at the other end of the city, wanting to live in one of them and built his dream around that. This situation wasn’t so different.

Tonight had been one of the bad nights though. Arlo had already gone through most of his snacks as people of all ages came to find him. Usually, he just walked through the streets, people spotted him and pulled him in new directions. It was reckless and stupid, but everybody knew Arlo was kind of untouchable because he cared for everyone and so everyone cared for Arlo.

And it wasn’t like anybody would be waiting for him at home. His father had died years ago and his mother was never there. The streets were kinder, more vibrant and alive, than Arlo’s actual home.

“Thank you,” the girl whose knee he’d fixed whispered.

“No problem,” Arlo repeated and yawned. He was tired and he had an early class tomorrow, or today if he wanted to be honest with himself. He should head back and try to catch at least three hours of sleep.

Arlo grabbed his bike and began heading home. As an unaffiliated vigilante, he didn’t have any fancy bat tech. Red Robin had offered to get him something, but Arlo wouldn’t know where to stick that anyway. Besides, the mob might start roughing him up if they knew he was on Batman’s payroll. So instead, Arlo had an actual normal bicycle. It had been a gift from Red Hood, who’d been a little appalled that Arlo just got everywhere by foot.

“That’s dangerous,” he’d said like he wasn’t waving around a gun at the same time.

Red Hood was a strange vigilante. He was no hero, he hurt and killed people, wrecked and ruined them and left behind a terrifying warzone. But he didn’t hurt kids.

That was one thing every child in Crime Alley knew. As long as you were young still, you didn’t have to fear the Red Hood. Adults were fair game, they were supposed to be better, but kids were just kids. Arlo himself had only just turned fifteen. He’d spent his birthday watching cartoons and doing an extra-long nightshift and then accepted a sleek black bicycle as his birthday present. He was reasonably sure the entire batclan knew who his civilian identity was, Red Hood did for sure or he wouldn’t have been able to deliver the bike to his house door. Arlo stopped his bike and parked it in the small garage all the families on the top floor had to share and made his way upstairs. He stretched and tiredly pulled his keys out of his pocket to open his door when he noticed that it wasn’t closed.

So his mom was back, likely drunk as well. Great.

Arlo pushed open the door and closed it behind himself. Without much care, he walked down the hallway, not bothering to turn on the lights. His mom would just complain about a headache or something. He entered the kitchen and opened up the fridge. Happily, he noticed that his takeout was still there. He took it out of the fridge and fished a fork out of the water basin and began munching on his noodles. He was so freaking hungry. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed his meal.

“Aahrlo?”

Arlo would later claim that he didn’t, in fact, scream, but that was exactly what he did when he heard somebody who was very much not his mother whisper his name. The food dropped on the floor and Arlo twisted around. Behind the table, in the very right corner of the kitchen, sat a dark figure. The must be tall and their hair was an inky black color.

“Red Hood?” Arlo asked and immediately rushed over to the other vigilante. “You- uh. Um, what are you doing here?”

He was pale and Arlo didn’t think it was just because of the moonlight illuminating his skin.

“Head wound,” Red Hood replied. “Didn’ know where else t’ go.”

Arlo kneeled down next to Red Hood and could only now spot the dark red that was quelling out between his hair. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, he was not going to bleed out in Arlo’s kitchen.

“Can you ‘elp?”

He was slurring his words, Arlo was pretty sure that was a bad sign. Due to the bad light, he couldn’t actually make out a lot of his features, and his mask still covered his eyes, but even so, Red Hood sounded so familiar and young. Arlo’s age kind of young. He’d never seen the other vigilante without his red helmet, but he’d assumed he was older. He was so brutal, so skilled.

Nothing like Stardust who barely knew how to throw a punch and was relying on other people’s goodwill.

“Hold still,” Arlo ordered and put his hands on Red Hood’s wound. The vigilante hissed, but Arlo didn’t even twitch anymore. He’d gotten so used to the feeling of blood sticking to his hands, it was almost welcome. He associated it with the rush he got when his powers activated.

“You glow,” Red Hood muttered, entirely out of it. He had lost a lot of blood, but head wounds generally bled a lot, didn’t they? “Like a fairy.”

Arlo giggled nervously and pushed his long dreads behind his back. “A girl I helped tonight told me I look like Rapunzel.”

“Nah,” Red Hood replied. “You’re not stuck in a tower all by yourself. You’re not-“ His breath hitched. “-not lonely at all.”

The wound was slowly closing, not as fast as it usually would, but Arlo was also dead tired.

“I don’t know,” Arlo confessed. “I feel pretty lonely all the time.”

Red Hood laughed, it was a dark and bitter sound, tethering on the edge of a sob or so it seemed to Arlo.

“But you’re good, always were. Helping people and all that. You’re not like me, you don’t fuck up. You stop listening and don’t give in to all that anger. You’re good and you don’t push people away and hurt them all over again.”

Arlo took his hands off Red Hood’s head and rested them on his thighs, blood smearing all over his jeans.

“You’re good too,” Arlo said. “You help people-“

“No,” Red Hood interrupted him harshly. “I just- I just get rid of problems. I shot a man point-blank. His brains just- it was everywhere and the kids were screaming and I just made everything worse but I was so fucking angry and didn’t even care-“

Arlo wasn’t good with words. He didn’t like reading, his dyslexia made it a god damn nightmare, and he couldn’t use all those fancy words he used to practice during tutoring because they felt so foreign on his tongue. Gestures, though, he knew. His parents used to be affectionate. His father was always holding him, had been holding him the day he died, protecting Arlo against debris. Slowly, to avoid startling him, Arlo put his arms around Red Hood. The other man tensed beneath Arlo’s touch, then slowly relaxed in his hold and even went as far as resting his head on Arlo’s shoulder, probably smearing blood all over it.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Arlo said, at loss for words.

“You shouldn’t be,” Red Hood replied. “You really, really shouldn’t.

“Well, I am,” Arlo insisted. “In fact, I’m so glad I’m going to cook you something because I need to eat and you need to eat and then I can heal any other injuries you have as well.”

Arlo kept on blabbering about whatever came to his mind until Red Hood was seated at his kitchen table and Arlo could hardly keep his eyes open anymore.

So, really, there wasn’t much to be said about Arlo Temmings, exhausted high school student and part time vigilante. His grades were held together by duct tape and safety pins and sometimes Red Hood nearly bled out in his kitchen while Arlo made an utter fool of himself and fell asleep on him.

[themusicplayedherlife]

Some Sugar

Part 2: I wanna hold hands with you

pairing: sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader characters: reader, steve rogers, cassandra jones (oc), selena (oc), others word count: 6k+ warnings: angst, family issues, money problems, cursing, talks of sex summary: sometimes, all we need is a someone to take our hand and help us a/n: the chapters might be getting longer than i anticipated and i might be cutting them up (had to take out Steve’s pov because wow), but it’ll really depend on the flow of the story

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It’s been about a week since you gave your number to Steve. 

You had known not to get your hopes up, but after seeing the shy smile that appeared on his handsome face and how kind he sounded when he asked if he could call, it was hard not to get your hopes up! 

Why ask for your number and then ask for permission if he’s not going to call?! Who even does that anyway? No one does! 

And then leaving you a $100 tip for three beers? What the actual fuck? Not that you didn’t appreciate it but who leaves that kind of tip for three beers? Cassandra had practically hounded you after they left, thinking that you personally knew Captain America, the Falcon, and the Winter Soldier. Fuck, you hadn’t even recognized them when they walked in, so the answer was obviously not! She didn’t believe you--”or else why would Captain America have followed after you?” You rolled your eyes at the suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows and ignored her for the rest of closing.

Because of her teasing, you didn’t mention him asking for your number.

The table in front of you squeaks with your rough wiping—ugh, you have more important things to worry about than a boy—man, person, soldier, or whatever!

A sharp call of your last name causes your body to react violently, jerking your body straight and for the rag in your hand to drop to the floor. 

Your boss wears a scowl, thin lips practically disappearing and gums appearing against stark yellow teeth. His beady eyes take you in and you can practically feel the heat of his glare on your face. “Be careful! If you scratch--”

“I know, I know,” you start offhandedly, reaching for the rag you dropped, “it’ll come out of my pay.” Not like you could actually scratch the glass table with a cotton rag, but whatever.

He humphs, shooting you another glare before disappearing into the back. Sighing when the door closes behind him, you share exasperated smiles with your coworkers. Your boss isn’t usually such a dick, but with the holidays coming up and the Italian restaurant getting an abundance of catering orders, he’s been a little off-kilter.

Which reminds you, you were hoping to ask him about this years Christmas bonus and if you could get it in advance, but if his little show just a couple of minutes ago are of any indication, he might not be so willing to be so kind (even if you’ve picked up more shifts this month). 

There’s still so much that needs to be done. 

You have to check with the bank to see if you’re eligible for another loan—this time to pay back your aunt—as your last resort.

You need to check in with Selena and her progress on the agreement she and her coworkers are working on.

You have to schedule an appointment with Esme’s academic advisor, who’ll most likely suggest that Esme join more after school activities to help her future chances with universities or to beg you to convince your sister to reconsider her decision about cheer. She’s already far behind financially that she needs to make up for it with her grades and extracurricular.

You need to deal with your phone bill, might even have to switch plans or call to ask if they have any promotions to help lower your payment for the next month, or else you and Esme will be without a way to communicate when you’re going to be home late and she’s home alone.

God, why is there so much to do?

“Why don’t you go for your ten?” your coworker Irene suggests, holding a clipboard with all of your coworker’s names and their allotted work schedule. “It’s going to get busy as soon as we open.” And you look like shit, is probably what she’s thinking.

You nod and she smiles as you make your way over to the break room. The cooks usually spend their break in the kitchen, hunched over in a corner to eat, so you and the rest of the servers have made the break-room your little reprieve. It’s small, practically non existent, really, but you and your coworkers make it work. You maneuver around the young chefs and head chef, greeting them as you go, and they return it a little distracted, prepping for today’s menu.

Your boss is in his office, fingers in his disheveled hair with piles of paperwork surrounding him. You pay him no mind as you pass by it.

The break room is empty, devoid of any life other than you.

The lockers your coworkers and you stuff your belongings in is against the right wall, next to the small microwave your boss had installed after some of you complained that you couldn’t use the kitchen to warm up your food in fear of getting in the way of the chefs. 

You enter your combination, pulling out your bag to look for your old modeled phone. It sits at the bottom, under your change of clothes. The screen is black, and as you wait for it to turn on, you put everything back and close the locker.

You sit on one of the wooden stools brought in by a coworker, having grown annoyed that there were no seats in the break room. The screen illuminates your face as you wait, until finally your lock screen appears and so does a text message from Cassandra asking if you saw the show she’s been recommending and another from Selena giving you an update on the agreement she was working on, and a missed call from an unknown number who left a voicemail. Your heart leaps to your throat, anticipation growing in your stomach. Could it be…?

You quickly unlock your phone, swiping to open the voicemail. Pressing play, you press your phone to your ear and find yourself biting the skin of your thumb.

“Uh, hello—“ you hate that your heart flutters at the nervous mention of your name. He says it so carefully, gently, as if testing out the waters. “This is Steve. Steve Rogers.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. A mission we were sent on lasted longer than we anticipated.” He sighs deeply, sounding a bit tired and you grow worried. “I hope you didn’t think I wouldn’t call or that I asked for your number to mess with you.” The nerves melt into a puddle of goo as your head fills with heat, embarrassment licking your skin at having been guessed so easily. “I, um, I was hoping we could meet up soon? For coffee? Or lunch? Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He pauses and the line grows quiet. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I, uh—it might be better if I ask you in person? Call me back when you get the chance. This is my personal number, by the way. Right, then… Have a good day? Shit. Didn’t mean that as a question! I hope you do have a good day—you know what, I’m just going to hang up now.”

The voice mail ends and you pull your phone away, staring at the number on the screen, a small laugh escaping you.

He called you! Steve Rogers really called you! And with his personal number too! God, what kind of messed up dream are you in?

Your bottom lip becomes a chew toy—should you call back? Should you not? You should, right? You were disappointed that he hadn’t called, and now that he has, you should. ...Right?

You let out a loud groan and throw your head back into the empty space. What would Selena and Cassandra say if they were here? You snort. Wow, that was a dumb question. You know exactly what they would say—call him, you idiot.

Before you can let your nerves take over, you quickly press the callback button. It rings, and you swear to god your heart speeds up, a buzzing gathering around in your head as you wait for his answering machine. But that doesn’t happen.

“Hello?”

Your heart that had been lodged in your throat drops to your stomach, and you find your throat growing dry. “Steve?”

He says your name just as he had when he left the voicemail. “Hey. You heard my voicemail.” He sounds almost happy? Excited, maybe?

“I did, yeah.” You curl a strand of hair behind your ear. “You said you wanted to meet up?”

“Yes!” he suddenly squeaks. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. I don’t.” At all. Okay. Maybe a little? Not because you don’t want to talk to him or meet up with him. But because you’re nervous now and you don’t know what to do. “When did you want to meet up?” 

“Today? If you have time?”

You frown, eyes drifting to the clock on the wall, just on top of the lockers. Your ten minutes are almost up. “I don’t know if I can,” you admit. “I’m at work until 4 and then I have to head to my shift at the bar right after.”

“Oh,” he says, a little disappointed. You don’t know why, but you quickly rack your brain to try and ease his disappointment.

“Maybe during a lunch break? At either job.”

“Oh,” his voice lightens, and your chest soars at having not disappointed Captain America. “What time do you have your lunch break?”

“For my current job?”

“Yes,” he answers, papers shuffling in his end.

“Uh, usually around 2 in the afternoon?”

“Then do you want to get lunch together for your break? We don’t have to go far.”

“Okay.” Your inner Selena and Cassandra squeal with delight. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Mind sending me the address?”

“I’ll send it to you right now.”

“Okay.” There’s a tilt to his voice and you picture him smiling, your own lips lifting. “Then... I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, see you soon.”

Work drags on, and you’re impatient, occasionally tapping your foot and staring out the door, waiting for familiar blue eyes and blonde hair to burst through it at any moment.

“And I’ll have the fig and salami pizza,” a man with a too large nose, bleached blonde hair and dull blue eyes orders. “Make sure that the chef doesn’t add garlic. I hate garlic.” You nod, about to ask if he needed anything else, but he beats you to it. “Oh, and make sure that the dough is perfectly cooked. I like it to snap.”

You nod with a patient smile. “Anything else, sir?”

He shakes his head and waves you away from him and his date.

You sigh when you reach the kitchen, giving your order to the head chef and leave as he reads out the order—making sure not to bump into anyone. Just as you step out, a coworker stops you, his face still new and his name yet unlearned.

“Irene told me to tell you someone is looking for you,” he says before entering the kitchen.

Your heart leaps, and although you know who it might be, you can’t help but ask, “Did she mention a name?”

He shakes his head and the kitchen door closes behind him.

Your feet carry you to the main station where Irene is usually positioned, and unfortunately, she isn’t with the man you were hoping to see. 

It’s someone else. A stranger.

He’s tall, handsome, and rugged in a grey suit. Dark hair styled back and dark beard pristine and well groomed. He’s sporting a charming smile, eyes crinkling amicably.

Irene is blushing, cheeks red and eyes wide as they stare up at him. For a moment, she looks away from him and your eyes connect. Her brown eyes light up and she says something to him that has him looking over his shoulder.

Your feet falter, hesitating when you make eye contact with the male. Something in his gaze shifts, eyes narrowing, nothing friendly remaining on his face—it’s calculating and cold.

He fully turns to you and behind him is Irene mouthing something at you and pointing at him. You’re pretty sure she’s saying, “Who is this hottie?” 

You have no idea.

“You asked for me?” You direct towards her, hoping there’s been some kind of mistake.

“Yes,” the male answers instead, and there’s a hint of an accent to his voice. It’s unfamiliar to you, just like his face. “We have some things to discuss.”

You want to ask if you know him, but before you can, his gaze returns to Irene.

“You don’t mind if I steal her for a moment?”

“Of course not,” she says. “You came right on time, anyway. I was just about to send her on her lunch break.”

Great. He could be a murderer for fucksake and she could be sending you to your deathbed without knowing!

“Perfect,” he says, eyes returning to you. He roughly grabs your arm and leans down to whisper in your ear, masking it with a jovial smile and pretending he was just moving you away from an incoming co-worker carrying plates. “If you don’t want to lose your job, I suggest you come with me.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s joking.

You muster a glare, twisting your arm out of his hold before addressing Irene. “I’ll be right back.” Removing your black waist apron, you hand it to her before following the strange male out to the front of the restaurant. She’s none the wiser, smiling brightly and giving you two thumbs up.

You stop a little off to the side, making sure to not block the way of people leaving or entering the restaurant, or strolling by. Waiting for a couple to pass you both, your eyes try not to waver as they harden. “Who are you?”

He stands straight, head held high and looking down at you—he’s trying to intimidate you, that much is obvious by his stance and the way his eyes stay narrowed. It’s working. But you’re not about to let him know that.

He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out an envelope, a familiar seal—belonging to the note that had been slipped under your door—greeting you. “Madame Magdalena—“ Madame? What the fuck? First Tia, and now Madame? Is that woman obsessed with titles? “Sends another message.”

You have got to be shitting me!

You ignore your shaking hands and rip the envelope from his hands, opening it without care; and just as you had suspected, it’s another note with the remaining amount and the due date. “She’s threatening me at my job now? Seriously?”

The male remains stoic. “She is growing impatient.”

It hasn’t even been a month since she stopped by the apartment! Hell, it hasn’t even been three weeks!

“Yeah?” You rip up the paper along with the envelope in half. “Well, tell my aunt that if she continues to threaten me, I’m going to the police!”

The man’s eye twitches, but other than that, his expression doesn’t change. 

A familiar voice calls your name as a hand settles on your shoulder, guiding you back a step. “Is everything all right?”

“Steve?” you drawl, wide eyes falling on the man you had been waiting for. He smiles down at you, baseball cap barely hovering over his eyes and squeezing your shoulder gently before hardening his gaze at the male in front of you.

“I am only the messenger,” the man says, a little deflated and unsure of the newcomer.

You don’t blame him. His size could be used to intimidate you, but not Steve. Steve is taller by a couple of inches and thicker in muscles, and there’s this air of authoritativeness surrounding him that is hard to ignore. And if the man recognizes who he is, he definitely doesn’t want to mess with an Avenger.

“Then be my messenger and tell her to stop,” you snarl, grabbing the hem of Steve’s denim jacket as a foothold.

The man nods stiffly and turns on his heels. “Excuse me.”

Steve and you watch in silence, neither of you paying any mind to the bustling streets or cars. A man shouts somewhere in the distance and music is playing from the bookstore next door.

It’s not until he’s out of your sight that you take a deep breath, easing your grip on Steve’s jacket and growing lax as the nerves and tenseness leave your body.

“You okay?” he asks, and Steve’s eyes are full of concern.

You manage a smile. “I think so.”

He scans the area, face serious and devoid of any emotions. Is he checking if you’re both being watched? His expression relaxes after doing a quick sweep. “Do you want to reschedule lunch?”

You quickly shake your head. “No, no. You’d be a welcome distraction from what happened, honestly.” Your eyes automatically follow the route the stranger took. “Besides, I don’t think this’ll be the last time this happens,” you admit, trying to keep the wariness and defeat from your voice. “Anyway, lunch?”

Steve doesn’t try to hide his unease with your admission, and you’re almost positive he wants to ask you more questions, but he holds them back. “My friend mentioned there was a good bistro around here. Want to go there?”

“That’d be great,” you say, following after him, but not before throwing the ripped up note into a nearby trash can.

The bistro Steve takes you to is small, almost empty, but it has a cute rustic charm to it—all wooden, open brick, and green plants. You occupy a round table that only fits two people, choosing to sit by the back where the lighting is a little darker and the window is facing away from a main street. 

You order a fruit tea, foregoing your usual heavy coffee because a nervous you and coffee don’t mix well.

Steve orders a black tea and two breakfast sandwiches, one which he pushes your way when they arrive. When you give him a bewildered look, he says, “You need to eat something.”

He’s sweet.

“Thank you.”

He just smiles, but something keeps him on edge—eyes moving from you to the door, hand wrapped around his drink but never actually drinking from it.

You sigh, placing your sandwich back on the small plate. “He’s not coming back, Steve.”

He rips his gaze from the door and blinks. “What?” 

“The man from earlier?” You meet his gaze, trying to smile. “He’s not coming back. Not today, anyway,” you mutter to yourself.

Deep lines make themselves a home on his forehead and there’s an urge deep in your gut wanting you to reach out and wipe them away. “If he comes back, make sure to call me.”

“He’s not going to hurt me. My aunt wouldn’t let him hurt me just—“ your throat grows dry and his eyes narrow. “I mean—“

“Is she—did she send him to threaten you?”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything.

His face softens, trying to make himself seem more friendly and approachable—seeming like he cares. Especially when he says your name so carefully and slowly, like some kind of treasure. “You can tell me.”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “Why?” He doesn’t answer. “Why do you—you don’t even know me.”

He frowns, debating with himself until settling on, “I don’t need to know you to care.”

You retract, leaning back into your chair. That’s not good enough, even if butterflies are beginning to sprout their wings in your stomach. God, have you really been deprived of male attention for so long that you react like this at the first man that shows he cares?

“I… I overheard your conversation that night. Heard you were having trouble and…”

Of course he heard. Of course he fucking did. Fuck. “It doesn’t concern you,” you state coldly, ignoring the humming in your ear. You really don’t want his pity.

His lips purse together and his eyes lower, dark lashes curtaining over blue eyes. You worry your bottom lip, an unsettling feeling stirring in your stomach—guilt. You’re about to open your mouth to apologize but he beats you to it.

 “I want to help you.” He licks his lips, meeting your gaze with determination. There’s something so intense and fiery in his eyes that your heart jumpstarts and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I think… I think we can help each other.”

Against your better judgement, you ask, “How?”

“I can…” he swallows, nail dragging back and forth on the table. “I can provide you money, help you with your bills and your needs, and in return you give me… company.”

“Are you asking me to be your personal prostitute?” He flounders and your eyes narrow. “Because it sounds like you’re asking for sex in return for money.”

“No! No—There was a term—” He tilts his head, thinking deeply about something before shaking his head. “What I meant was that I—I sometimes have events to attend and if I don’t take a date, women at these things tend to…”

Your nerves begin to ease, amusement taking over at the sight of a flustered Steve. “Throw themselves at you?”

“Yes!” He nods vigorously before mellowing out, eyes dropping to the tea that is no longer steaming. “Yes, they tend to throw themselves at me and it”—he winces, most likely remembering an instance— “it can be too much sometimes.”

“So… you want me to be a sort of barrier between you and these women?”

He sighs in relief that you understand. “Not just that. I meant when I said I wanted company, someone I can have a genuine conversation with.” He exhales through his nose. “Being who I am doesn’t exactly give me time to… meet people.”

Your jaw slackens as it clicks in your head: he wants a sugar baby. He’s asking you of all people to be his sugar baby! “What about the women throwing themselves at you?”

He snorts, lips turning into a self deprecating smile. “Most of them are just interested in what I am. Not who I am.”

You frown. Is he sure about that? 

“I just want someone to care about, someone who’ll let me take care of them, protect them and who is willing to get to know me as Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

You mull over his words, the soft music drifting through the wooden beams of the bistro and the low chattering from the other customers suddenly seeming louder as you think. “Why me? You don’t exactly know me.”

He smiles, all soft and sweet eyes drifting over your face. “Why not you?”

That’s not exactly the answer you were expecting to hear, but you still find yourself relaxing in your seat. “How would this work?”

“Sharon”—Sharon? As in the famed Sharon Carter? Weren’t they rumored to be dating at some point?—“mentioned something about coming up with our terms and agreeing on them together. Maybe we can start there? After you have time to think about accepting my offer or not, of course.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth. “Okay.”

“You’ve got to be pulling my leg!” Selena practically yells from the other line, and you pull your phone away from your ear, wincing. “Captain fucking America is asking to be your Sugar Daddy?”

You curl under your bed sheets, trying to be quiet and not wake up Esme in the other twin bed. “I know, I’m just as in shock as you are.”

“I’m not in shock. I’m excited for you!” She gushes sleepily. “Please tell me you’re going to say yes! Because if you aren’t, I’m booking a flight to New York right now to slap some sense into you.”

You laugh, voice bubbling with mild glee and nerves. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Good! This is good for you! You deserve someone looking after you. You’ve done enough looking after.”

You shiver from the cold air seeping into the apartment, watching Esme closely—if she shivers too there’s another blanket in the closet you can put on her. “If I do say yes, it’ll be because I’ll have the ability to look after Esme and my mom, Sel.”

“And that’s fine! Not saying that shouldn’t be your driving force. But it’s about time someone looks after you, too. I mean, I know Esme and your mother do, and I know Cassandra does too, and I obviously do,” she says with a playful scoff and you chuckle softly. “But we can't look after you like Steve would. Whoa, can I call him Steve? Or is that only reserved for you?”

You roll your eyes and lift your blanket over your face, covering your cold nose. Rambling Selena is always fun. “Really?”

“Right, silly question. Of course I can, I’m your best friend.” You snort. “As I was saying. Steve can offer the attention and care we can’t, in more ways than one.” She giggles salaciously and you groan into the fabric of your blanket. “What? Is sex off the table or something?”

You breathe deeply, turning on your back. “I don’t know? Maybe? Maybe not?”

“Would sleeping with Captain America be the worst thing to happen to you?” Would it? There’s no denying that you are definitely attracted to Steve, but it’s one thing to fantasize and another to have the ability to make that fantasy come true. And what if he doesn’t want to have sex with you? She sighs, as if reading your thoughts. “Talk to him about it. He did say you could come up with your own terms, right?”

“Yeah.”

She hums thoughtfully. “I say you throw sex on the list, but add that you’ll only have sex if you feel comfortable enough to. And if he forces sex on you, fuck Captain America, not physically, but like, you know cursing him out. Or we could always curse him too, I made friends with some wicc—“

You laugh, knowing her rambling is only going to get worse as she gets sleepier, it’s the only way to stay awake for your sake. She may be three hours behind you, but she’s always been an early sleeper. “I think you and I need some sleep.”

She sighs dramatically. “You’re right. Let’s talk more about this when I’m less… delirious. This deserves our full attention, so you better call me when you’re free, you hear?”

“I promise I will.”

Cassandra’s eyes are hot on your side profile. It makes you regret asking Steve to meet you at the bar during your break this time around, but he was too busy to meet you earlier, and you were busy, too. You had a ten hour shift at the restaurant and during your break you visited your mom; and before heading for your shift at the bar you met with Esmeralda’s academic counselor, who indeed told you that Esme should think about joining more clubs and doing more activities—like cheer.

It solidified your decision on Steve’s proposal.

He takes a tentative sip of his beer, blue eyes bright even in the warm lighting of the bar—blue hydrangeas on the table pale in comparison. 

You take out a folded piece of paper from the pocket of your jeans. “I’ve never actually done this, so, um they might be a little juvenile…”

His pretty eyes scan your messy and unsure writing as he drinks in your words; your fingers rubbing hastily at a spot on the table. You mentally recite your terms, helped by Selena, but mostly written by you because she was going over the top with her suggestions (e.g. a gift delivered to your door every week, must cost over $100; roses sent to your work or home every week; a gift to my best friend every month unless she says she doesn’t need one; and so on—“What? He has money!” she said after you called her out for her ridiculous suggestions. “Isn’t the whole point of this him spending money on you?”):

Clear communication about what we want going forward in this arrangement.

Treat each other with respect.

Must get to know each other.

Affection, whether public or private, is okay, as long as it’s not manhandling.

Sex is also okay, as long as we’re both comfortable with one another.

A smile blooms on his face and he chuckles, only making your face heat up. You knew it! They are juvenile! Or was it sex? Maybe he wasn’t interested in sex with you? You don’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved.  “I could—I could rewrite them?”

His eyes snap to yours and his laughter subsides, but not the amusement in his eyes, they’re clear as day. “No—no, they’re fine, it’s just,” he pauses to reach into his own pocket to pull out his own paper. He offers it to you and you take it tentatively.

You eye him and he gives you a small nod, smile curving his lips. You unfold it and as your eyes scan his simple terms that are an exact replica of yours (just with minor word differences) with no mention of sex in his. Your eyebrows furrow and when you look up his eyes are still on you, warmth—that you’ve come to associate with him—in his gaze. His hand reaches for yours and he coaxes your fingers to let go of the paper to take your hand in his—your heart picking up at the rough ends of his fingers smoothing over your palm. 

“Just that,” he continues, eyes falling to his fingers caressing your skin, a small frown appearing on his lips, “I thought you wouldn’t be comfortable with sex being part of our agreement.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Should someone touching you as simple as this really feel this good? Are you really that touch starved?

He shrugs, still focused on memorizing the lines of your palm. “You didn’t want money in return for sex, remember?” It’s teasing the way he says it, looking up at you through his thick lashes, too long and beautiful for your liking (fuck, how can a man be so beautiful?) and a small tilt to his pink lips.

You snort, propping your chin on your hand that he isn’t touching, elbow placed firmly on the wooden table and written agreements momentarily forgotten and placed aside. “In my defense, it sounded like you were propositioning me. You could’ve just said you wanted a Sugar Baby from the start, Steve.”

He huffs a laugh, fingers dragging over your skin as he pulls away and you find yourself missing his touch. You have to stop yourself from chasing his warmth. “Believe it or not, I was too nervous to remember anything. Had a hard time forming sentences, too.”

You blink before a smile blooms on your face. “Does that mean we have an agreement?”

Blue eyes once more stare at you—no, into you. There’s concern and excitement whirling around, swimming against the currents they’ve both created around one another.  “Have you really thought this through?” he asks, his voice barely heard over the music playing.

“What? This... arrangement or sex?” Because you have. You’ve probably annoyed Selena with all of your questions and concerns too.

He nods, not specifying which.

Your fingers reach for his hand resting on the table, but you hesitate before you can touch him and pull away. He frowns.

You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not yet. You focus on the LED candle lit on the table, avoiding his gaze. “Of course I have, Steve. I wouldn’t be here or have written it down if I hadn’t.” And if you’re being honest, you need this. You need the money and… and you need the affection and intimacy he could give you.

“It won’t be easy,” he tells you softly. “People are going to be prying everywhere we go—like now.” Your eyes follow his quick tilt of his head and your eyes meet the warm glow of Cassandra’s brown eyes. They widen and she quickly turns away, pretending to be cleaning the bar-top that she’s been cleaning excessively since Steve arrived. 

You shake your head and smile at your boss as she looks up again and returns your smile with a sheepish one.

“She won’t be the only one wondering what’s going on between us.”

“She’s harmless.”

He sighs, both hands wrapping around the body of his bottle. “I know. But that doesn’t mean the others will be.”

“Are you trying to scare me away? Plant doubts into my mind, because—“ because you already had those before Selena managed to chase them away; Steve bringing them up will only make you anxious again.

He rests his hand back onto the table, between you and him, just out of reach. “No, that’s the farthest thing from what I want.”

“Then…”

 “What I want is for you to be certain.” His eyes soften. “Because if you are, I promise you I will do everything in my power to protect you and your family, to keep you and them safe.”

A lump forms in your throat.

This time you don’t hesitate, your fingers brush against his before you’re pressing your palm against his, fingers slipping between his with such an ease that it almost scares you. But you’re not scared. How can you be scared when Steve is staring at you so tenderly? When he sounds so confident unlike when he brought up this arrangement? When he’s not only just thinking about you, but your family as well? When his fingers and yours fall into place so easily? 

Yes, it might be hard, you’re aware of that, and he is too. However, if it means helping your family out of this situation, giving Esme a better chance in the future and being able to help your mom, you’re willing to try. “I’m sure, Steve.”

He squeezes your hand, a smile wiping away any visible concern on his handsome face. “Okay,” he says before repeating it again with a firm nod. His eyes move to the clock hanging next to the entrance to the kitchen and back room—your beak is almost over. “What time do you get off work? Let me take you home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you assure him, trying desperately to keep your nerves down. You really don’t want to show him where you live, it’s not exactly the best place and if Esme’s home, you really don’t want her asking questions until you’re ready. “Cassandra usually gives me a ride home after work.”

“I want to give you a ride,” he says, face becoming serious. “We still have some things to discuss… like your aunt,” his voice lowers at the end, a brief flash of anger in his eyes, not directed at you, but at the woman who has been tormenting you, even if he doesn’t know all the details.

You gnaw the inside of your cheek and then sigh gently. “I help close, so I’m usually out by two, depending on how many are closing with us.”

He nods. “You don’t mind if I wait here?”

“I don’t, but are you sure you’re okay, waiting?” You check the clock and you frown—10:36 pm. He’ll be waiting for some time. “I won’t be out for a while.” 

“I don’t mind,” he reassures you, squeezing your hand once more.

You return to work, a little reluctant to leave Steve by himself, but he keeps himself occupied by using his phone and occasionally, you find him staring at you every once in a while, flashing you a small smile.

“You don’t know Captain America, huh?” Cassandra teases, elbowing you gently on your side as you make a drink.

“I didn’t,” you tell her, shifting on your feet to move away from her prodding. 

Her eyebrows wiggle suggestively, her eyes shining with mirth. “And now you do?”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile, but she knows you well enough to know that twitch and roll of your lips. “I guess so.”

She laughs and bumps your hip with hers. “Rooting for you, honey!”

If only she knew.

You’re busy the rest of the night. The bar is starting to gain some popularity again, and that means having to work even faster and harder. Steve at some point moves to the bar, leaving the booth that had been occupied by you and him earlier, but you prefer him being at the bar. It means he’s closer to you and it also means having his back turned to people who could possibly recognize him.

He’s not exactly wearing a disguise, baseball cap covering golden hair and being the only thing keeping people from recognizing him, but if he turns around and someone sober had already been looking at him, they’d know exactly who he is. His handsome face is unmistakable.

He smiles at you when he catches you staring at him and you return it bashfully before sliding another beer to him, his fifth one that night. Apparently with his super soldier metabolism, he doesn’t get drunk. Or hangovers.

Lucky bastard.

It’s not until half an hour before closing time that the bar starts to clear out, making it easy for you and the rest of your coworkers to clean up empty glasses and wipe sticky tables. Your feet are aching, but not enough to bother you for too long.

You’re carrying a tray of drinks to the back when Cassandra plucks it from your hands and grins at you. Your eyes widen and you stare at her with surprise.

“Go,” she says, motioning to Steve at the bar nursing a glass of water. 

As if knowing you’re talking about him, he lifts his gaze from his phone and flashes you a half smile that you return with heated cheeks.

“But I’m closing tonight.” It’s more of a question than a factual statement at this point.

“It’s fine. We’ve got things handled. Go! Don’t keep Captain America waiting,” she gushes with a wink.

You playfully groan and nudge her with your shoulder as you both slip into the back. “Will you stop?”

“Only if you leave!” she exclaims jovially, leaving the tray of glasses on top of the counter space of the small kitchen. She turns to you with a hand on her hip and leans against the counter. “Well? You gettin’ outta here or should I ask tall, blonde, and handsome to take me home, instead?”

“It’s not what you think, Cass,” you tell her as you open your locker.

“Uh-huh, sure it isn’t.”

“It’s not. We’re just getting to know each other.” Which isn’t a complete lie.

“Well, that intense hand holding didn’t seem like you’re just getting to know each other.” She’s only teasing, but something about her words have you pausing.

He might not have mentioned it, but it was kind of implied that people shouldn’t know about the kind of relationship (if you could even call it that) you and Steve have now. So it’s good that she thinks you’re together, right?

Cassandra calls your name and you turn to look at her, her brown eyes full of concern and you smile at her to ease that worry away. 

“We’re just testing out the waters.”

[shortythescreen]

Run With The Wolf.

Warning(s): NSFT/18+ under the read more. Werewolf/anthromorphic AMAB Bloodhound. Brief blood mention but nothing talked about in depth. Vague jealousy/possessiveness but more from a wolfy, scented kind of way. Little bit of breeding kink tossed in at the very end. 

Pairing(s): Bloodhound/OC (Valarie Morrigan Everly) 

Author’s Note(s): Overjoyed to have done this for my boo @mika-aris! It was super fun to write and I’m so glad she enjoyed it. Hope y’all do too! If you’re interested in a commission, my info can be found here. 

The disappearances aren’t a concern right away.

Even now that Val is paying them more attention, they’re not super concerning. Bloodhound always lets her know before they leave, whether from their own mouths, or a note, or the mouth of another Legend sent to tell her. She’s not worried about them, knows that they’re a killer just like the rest of the Legend, that they can handle their own. She’s just… Curious.

They’ve been together long enough for her to notice the cycle with which they take their long hunt. At first, she thought it might’ve been a religious thing – but when Bloodhound revealed to her that they are pagan like she is, she knows there’s no holiday that would require them to disappear as rhythmically, as periodically, as regularly as they have.

She’s intrigued but unwilling to invade their privacy. Bloodhound has shared pieces of themselves that no one else knows, has trusted her with information that the outside world will never know. They are fiercely protective of their business, so much so that not even some of the Legends know the things that Val does. She’s grateful for that, never wants to take it for granted.

But damn it, she really wants to know where the hell Hound goes.

She considers broaching the topic one day after a match, in the process of shedding her gear. It falls to the smooth tiled floor beneath her, bloodied and dirty. Her jacket lands in the pile and she lets out a long sigh, rolling her neck back, tired and in desperate need of a shower. “Elskan,” says Bloodhound, startling her. She turns, finding them standing in the doorway. She raises an eyebrow at them, at the fact that they have yet to shed their gear.

“Hi,” she says, waving a hand. Val likes to think even without being able to see their eyes, she can get a feel of the way they’re looking at her and right now they seem…

Riled.

“Who was it that was on your squad today?” They ask, which seems like an odd question. Val purses her lips, placing her hands on her waist.

“Uh, Revenant. And Octavio,” she tells them, and they hum. Silence passes between them and Val stares, unsure of how to proceed from there. Before she can think of much else, Hound strides across the room. Their feet are sure, swift, and when they finally close in on her, their face finds the curve of her throat. She tilts her head away, lips parting in a quiet gasp, only for her brow to furrow in confusion as Bloodhound… breathes?

There is no biting, or licking, or even kissing. Instead, they just take a deep breath that moves the muscles in their back, that Val can hear when they breathe out.

“Their scent,” they grumble, voice dropping to something low, dangerous. Promising. “It muddles yours. Did Octavio touch you?”

Bloodhound’s squad won the day and Val, Revenant, and Octavio came in a respectable but still frowned upon third. She thinks back, raking her mind for her interactions with her teammates, wondering why it is Bloodhound would ask such a thing. They’re not normally so jealous.

“Uh, yeah, once,” she says and Bloodhound outright growls, suddenly pinning her to the lockers that rattle at her back. She gasps, cool metal like heaven against the hot skin revealed by her small top. Bloodhound reaches up with one hand and pulls off their helmet, divesting themselves of their helmet, revealing their full lips, the slope of their nose, their filthy red hair. “Hound, what-”

“I wish to wash you of their scent, elskan.” They murmur out. Their scent? The only thing Val can smell on Octavio is sweat after a match. It’s such an oddity, something so strange, and Bloodhound grabs her by the hips, growling as they raise their eyes.

“I wish to rectify that, if it would please you, elskan.” They say and when their hands slide down to her ass, she gets their meaning.

“Well…” She trails off because she’s definitely not opposed, already feels scorched by wherever their hands touch her. “Yeah. Okay.”

So they do.

---

Following their rendezvous in the locker room, Bloodhound seems… Smug. Which is unusual for them. They normally walk around with a level of humility that seems befitting of someone who is such a reverent servant of the gods. Still, they are more prone to touching Val where the other Legends can see, insistently nestling themselves into her throat, breathing her in.

They sit on her sofa, watching some silly cartoon she can’t be bothered to remember the name of. Their arms are wound firmly around her shoulders, chin resting on top of her head, their red curls hanging around her face. Their fingers are frigid, curled around her shoulders, and one of her hands rests over the one on her right shoulder, trying to warm it with gentle squeezes.

“I will need to leave for a time,” they murmur. Val twists her head, trying to peer up at them, look at their face. They maneuver with her, lips curving upwards in a little smile. “I hope this does not bother you, beloved.”

“Of course not,” she murmurs, “just wish I could go with you.”

They pause at that, staring at her with their eyes, warm and brown and slightly red like those antique pennies that are no longer in circulation. She watches them lick the upper row of their teeth beneath their close lips and they squeeze her shoulders, turning their face into her hair.

“I do too, elskan.”

---

Val is… nothing if not assertive. It’s one of the things that makes her a good addition to any squad, one of the things that helped her survive after her parents were made victims of war. After their conversation, after seeing that look in Bloodhound’s eyes when they told her they wished she could come with them on their hunt, she took it upon herself to join them.

She treks through the forest leading to their cabin, grateful for the markings in the tree that indicate her way. The sun has just begun to set over the horizon, and the picnic basket she carries in her left hand has two wraps, and fruit that she cut back at her apartment and put into an airtight container to keep them fresh before she arrived at Bloodhound’s cabin.

It’s such a welcome sight as she finishes the trek, the little cottage nestled against the peaceful backdrop of the thick trees. In the orange hues of the setting sun, the shadows of the leaves make it look sweet, like something out of a painting, and Val’s lips quirk up at the sight of the well worn wood, the intricate carvings along the front door that become more noticeable as she approaches.

She steps over the wooden patio, reaching up to knock twice with two fingers. She sits back on one leg, looking to the side, hair flying over her shoulder as she enjoys the warmth of the sun rays, enjoys that for once, she might be the one surprising Bloodhound.

In no time at all, the sun disappears beneath the horizon and a chilly breeze whips through the trees. Val closes her eyes, breathing in the fresh air, how crisp it seems out here in Bloodhound’s little corner of the world. Speaking of, Bloodhound’s yet to answer the door. She opens her eyes once more, reaching up to knock once more.

Then, she hears growling.

Her knuckles freeze, mere inches away from the door, and she stares at the wood. Goosepimples rupture along the nape of her neck, her arms, and suddenly the breeze is not pleasant but frigid. She presses her lips together, swallowing thickly, slowly, carefully turning her head, trying not to make any sudden movements.

When she turns out to the world, she sees eyes glowing at her in the dark of the woods between two trees. Her throat bobs, the red glare practically casting light across the darkening forest floor and she suddenly very much hopes that Bloodhound opens the door. They grow closer and she takes an unconscious step back, gasping when her heel bumps into the door. The animal part of her brain trembles in the face of a predator and her fingers unconsciously tighten on the basket in her hands.

They breach the forest line, an anomaly in the middle of the quiet woods. The growl only grows louder as they get closer, as she sees just who it is that is looking at her like they might eat her alive. Bloodhound’s ears have grown long and sharp, pointed, furry at the edges, and their upper lip has peeled back to reveal a row of impossibly sharp canine teeth.

“Holy shit,” breathes Val, eyes round, wide. They stare at each other, suspended in time, Val scanning what she knows is supposed to be Bloodhound. Just… in a way she has never seen them. Their already broad shoulders are somehow even wider, covered with a thick layer of fur, claws sprouting from where their normally short fingers are. They are taller, larger than she ever anticipated being, and before she can ask, maybe try to reason with them, they are upon her.

Like that day in the locker room, their footsteps are sure, forceful, and Val drops her picnic basket. It falls to the side, food rolling out of it, and the beast grabs her trim sides, lifting her up and pinning her back against the door with their hips wedged between hers. They’re not normally so tall and she clings to them, half afraid to let go in fear she’ll hit the ground.

“Bloodhound,” she gasps, realizing with a start that the human parts of their visage are beginning to fade. More hair – fur? – grows across their chest, thighs thickening beneath their cargo pants that are beginning to tear at the seams. “What- What’s happen-”

“Before I fade,” they growl out and their voice is not their own, deep, rough, like they just rolled out of bed and smoked a cigarette or two before speaking. “I need you to tell me if you do not wish for me to touch you.”

Val trembles, staring into their face, and with a jolt she realizes they’re hard. Her cheeks flood with color and she curses something in the tongue of her mother, her hands finding Hound’s broad shoulders, burrowing them into the thick fur sprouting from their shoulders.

Now it makes sense. It wasn’t a holiday that took Hound away, or a ritual that demanded their presence in the forest. Instead, they were following the phases of the moon, its bright, full face staring down at her with a mocking smile.

“I want you to touch me,” she breathes, meeting their eyes, “please, Hound.”

They snarl and that question seemed to hold the last vestiges of their control, her answer the catalyst that decided whether or not they would flee or fight. They bury their nose in her throat and this time there are teeth – clamping into her shoulder, sinking just past the skin and making her yelp at the wave of pain that follows.

Their fingers – claws dig into her thighs and she gasps as they pull them apart. Their hips grind up against hers and she can feel their fat cock through the torn fabric of their pants, begging for entry, wanting to feel her. How often did they hold this back, this animalism? How often had she seen the beginnings of it in a form more human but could not see it for what it was?

Her thoughts evaporate, disappearing as quickly as the sun had behind the horizon as Bloodhound drops to the wooden deck, holding her down. She squirms, making a noise at the uncomfortable position her shoulder blades are in and their giant paw slips beneath the arch of her spine, sliding up to hold her between the shoulder blades and the scrape of their claws along her flesh through her shirt makes her shiver.

“Hound!” She gasps as they curl their claws into the back of her shirt’s neck and tears it right in two. The fabric falls away and her nipples pucker in the chill of the night, bright red, aching to be touched, but with the little noises leaving Hound and the steady hump of their cock between her open legs, she has a feeling they won’t be doing the touching.

Val takes it upon herself, hands shooting up, folding over her nipples. She pinches them between her thumbs and forefingers, rolling tightly and moaning, pussy clenching in interest. The snarl that Hound lets out makes her freeze, used to a warning following such a sound, or a punishment.

They do neither thing, instead sitting back on their haunches and when she cranes her neck to look, she gets a glimpse of their cock. Her eyes widen at how ruddy red it is, even more impressive than its normal size. She thinks she couldn’t fit both of her hands around it if she wanted to and she trembles at the thought of something so massive stretching her cunt.

“Hound, y-y-you’re big,” she breathes as Hound shreds her pants. She winces as their claws open thin, red lines along her pale legs, bloodied scratches that will heal later but might leave marks. She wonders how much of it was on purpose. “Bigger than normal. I think we need to- or we should… we need to get lube.”

Bloodhound pauses, cocking their head and she bites the edge of her lower lip, watching them from her place on the porch. She wonders how much of them is listening, how much of this beast before her is a different entity. Eyes the color of blood seem locked on her body and she wonders if she’ll be taking their cock dry. Instead, their huge hands find her hips and lift her hips right off the porch, up, until her hands are slamming onto the deck to try and balance herself.

She can’t even get their name out, any question dying on her lips the second their tongue – broader? Is it broader than normal? Fuck – slides from between their teeth to drool onto her exposed cunt. Her chin tucks against her chest, mouth dropping, and god her back is going to be killing her tomorrow but she doesn’t care. Not when their broad tongue is fucking into her hole, spit falling off of their sharp teeth to coat her swollen labia.

“Hound, Hound, Bloodhound!” She cries, entirely immobilized by their iron tight grip on her hips. Her legs flail, kicking out onto for her heels to land on their back, pressing as tightly against the blades of their shoulders as she can manage. Her thighs shake around their head, their thick tongue pushing up against her clit and not stopping, the tip flickering over it at a speed that makes her head spin, her gut tighten. With a gasp and a cry, her hips buck hard into their mouth, grinding against their lips as she cums hard.

She pants, chest heaving, trying to regain her breath. Before she can, Hound lowers her hips to their belly before flipping her onto her stomach. She lands on the deck with a grunt, hands flat underneath her, breasts pressed up against the porch. Her cunt is hot and cold all at once, still coming down from the aftershocks of such a quickly given, intense orgasm, but assaulted by the light air.  

Bloodhound pulls her up by her hips, opening her wet, glistening cunt and she shudders. That huge, leaking red cock prods at the entrance of her cunt. Val’s fingers clench into fists and her breathing picks up even more, mouth open like a fish to gulp in air. Midway through another choked off noise, Bloodhound’s cock breaches her tight, wet cunt, and she groans midway through, eyes rolling back.

Their cock is huge, bigger than it’s ever been, and fuck, she almost swears it’s gotten bigger too. Her eyes squeeze shut, fighting off the burn that could be painful or pleasant. Her pussy has never been stretched so wide, has never had to accommodate such girth, and it makes her feel so dirty and hot that she swears her pussy clenches.

The groan that Bloodhound lets up is indication it very well might have. Their claws are digging into the pillowy flesh of her ass and there’s no preamble once they’re seated inside of her, hips flush against her ass. Instead, they start fucking her in earnest, and Val whines at the drag of her nipples against the deck.

“Oh fuck, fuck!” She yelps, pushing herself up on her hands, letting her tits swing instead of being dragged across the deck. It’s hard to keep herself upright, elbows weak, but she tries her damnedest, letting them fuck into her abused cunt until she can hear the sloppy, wet noises it makes every time they disappear back inside of her.

“Do you want to know why I wanted you to come with me on this journey, Valarie?” The monster asks in Bloodhound’s accent and her tongue lolls stupidly out of her mouth as they piston their hips downwards. Every thrust hits the spot inside of her that makes her thighs clench, makes her want to beg. She hadn’t even thought Hound could talk following their comment about fading but she’s proved wrong when their claws hand smooths up the length of their back, watching the muscle bunch and tremble under their touch.

“I wanted you to come here,” they say, pausing as her juicy pussy quivers, around them, around the harsh way they fuck her. “I wanted you to come here because I wanted to breed you, elskan. Wanted to knot you, fuck you full of pups.”

Val whines out and Bloodhound’s paw on her back sneaks around to her belly, pressing against the bulge of their fat dick inside of her, poking against the inside of her thin tummy. They press down and they both groan, Val useless as they drag her up, against their too large chest.

“Is that what you want, mate?” They snarl into her ear and she realizes with a little moan that they’ve started fucking her along their dick, using her as a glorified toy. She throws her head back, arching up when the hand on her tummy drifts, circling the hard nub of her clit. “Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?”

“Gods, yes!” Val cries out and they press down on her clit, hard. Her jaw drops, whole body seizing as she cums a second time. Normally, the second is always softer, gentler, a nice feeling watching over her. This one is almost painful, clit tightening and cunt tensing hard around their massive cock. Bloodhound snarls, continues to fuck her along it then with a final drop, she feels something stretch past the drenched lips of her cunt with a satisfying pop.

Val screams, cunt twitching, accommodating. Bloodhound’s snarl is all the confirmation she needs – knot, that’s their knot, they knotted me – along with the warm spread of their cum inside of her. Her nostrils flare and her body slumps back into their chest, amazed that somehow their cock is still going. Still twitching, and cumming, and filling her cunt.

“So,” she breathlessly whispers, “you’re a werewolf?”

“Yes,” they murmur, nuzzling their nose against her hair, one hand finding her throat. Val realizes they’re trying to clean her throat. “I come here to be one with nature, allow the beast its fill of slatra beneath the gaze of the moon.”

“You tap into the animal instinct?” She asks, smirking, lips still parted to heave in air. Bloodhound snorts, reaching around, placing a hand over her lower belly and filling the soft bulge of their cum. Val squirms and they purr, the noise reverberating through their whole body as their nose finds the spot they’d bitten.

“I suppose that is a way to address this, yes… I hope I did not frighten you.”

“Oh, Hound,” Val says with a little laugh, placing her hand over their bigger once, hands closing around the spaces between their fingers. “If that was you scaring me, I want you to scare me again. And again.”

[arofili]

fic writer tag game!!

i was tagged by @meztliel, thanks so much!!

AO3 name: starlightwalking

Fandoms: mostly Tolkien, my current main WIPs are Hobbit and LOTR fics, but i’m definitely mostly writing for the Silm these days, just lots of oneshots. i also dabble in Les Mis (at least once a year for Barricade Day!) and TAZ :)

Number of fics: 179??? how??? and i’m only gonna have more!! i’m not even done with B2MeM20 yet!!

Fic I spent the most time on: oh geez. that’s a tough one. this fic that i just posted, a Measse/Thuringwethil oneshot, i started in 2015?? but i left it sitting for 5 years, so i don’t think that counts. and i guess this drabble comp would be the next candidate, i started it in May 2016 and i last updated it in December 2019, but it’s...a drabble compilation, not an actual fic. so i think i actually spent the most time on my current WIPs, “Moonlight” and “Roads Go On,” both originally posted in May 2018 (jesus i was still in HIGH SCHOOL) and updated.....last year...... really i just haven’t had time to work on them, rip, though i think about them constantly. that’s what happens when you’re not in high school anymore i suppose....

Fic I spent the least time on: i mean, something from that drabble comp, probably. Or a B2MeM ficlet. probably this Glorfindel fic? I only remember writing it because I know it was written in a hurry at like 2am and my friend Moth @thishazeleyeddemon loved it and I was like “wow weird considering how little effort I put into it!”

Longest fic: Currently my post-BotFA Tauriel fic “Beneath the Stars” coming in at 49k! RGO and Moonlight both promise to be longer, but that would require me actually finishing either of them... but I love BtS so much that I’m glad it’s up there, it was a real labor of love <3

Shortest fic: “The Lay of Nienor” which I just wrote this past month! it’s only 238 words long - but it’s in verse, so that’s pretty respectable!

Most hits: My first BotFA fix it fic, “A Merrier Place,” with 5544 hits - to no one’s surprise by my chagrin. That was one of my first forays into Hobbit fic and I wrote it shortly after the movie came out, when people were most in need of a fix it AU. So I don’t blame them, really - but as I’m sort of setting out to rewrite my thoughts on what actually would’ve happened in an Everyone Lives AU in my current fic “Moonlight,” I wish people would pay more attention to that...

Most kudos: My TRSB19 Gigolas fic, “Love and Fear,” coming in with 155 kudos! this fic features art from @ginogollum and honestly, it deserves that love! (though, I think it does say a lot about what fandom wants that my only romo!gigolas fic has the most kudos of anything i’ve written, and all my qp!gigolas fics are much lower down the list... though perhaps I’m being unfair, considering my qp!Domadry fic “Wedding Blues” has the second-most kudos at 147.)

Most comment threads: My other TRSB19 fic, the Feanorian Redemption/Rebirth story “ATATYA” - that’s 71 comment threads and 147 total comments including replies!!! :) that makes me very very happy, because I wrote the 45,000 words of that fic in like...two weeks, about? it was INTENSE. and i’m very proud of that story, it’s got a lot of headcanons that I stand by, and I reference it frequently!

Most bookmarks: I added this category bc it felt weird it wasn’t here. Again, this prize goes to “Love and Fear” with 43 bookmarks!! woah :o second place is “A Merrier Place” with 35, and then the first fic I haven’t already mentioned is “The Naming Dame,” a HTTYD book fic with 30 bookmarks! I really should go back and update that fic, considering I wrote it before the last book came out and there’s new relevant information...

Total word count: I also added this one because I wanna brag!! I currently have 739,961 words archived on AO3 - holy shit!! adding the ~253k words I didn’t transfer over from FFN, that’s nearly a million words of fic! by the time i finish B2MeM I might push past that threshhold!!!!! that’s so exciting!!!! (fun fact about me: before Tolkien, my main fandom was...warrior cats...roughly 215k of that fic I left to gather dust on FFN is WC fic........)

Favourite fic I wrote: This isn’t fair, I can’t choose just one!! Ugh...well, if I must, I think it has to be “ATATYA”? This is subject to change, and “Beneath the Stars” is a close second, but “ATATYA” is my first real Silm longfic and I’m very proud of what I accomplished there, especially in such a short amount of time. Bonus: my favorite oneshot / favorite non-Tolkien fic is “and Love,” the aro Magnus fic I wrote for ASAW last year!

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I mean, I already talked about how “Moonlight” is kind of a rewrite of “A Merrier Place,” so...hm. Well, earlier today in an ask game I mentioned my fic “fell and fey” which is the Eol-living-in-a-fairy-tale fic I wrote just this past month. I started writing a longer, more poetic version of that fic that I’d like to return to and expand on someday, but I wanted to get that idea out of my head and B2MeM was a great excuse to do it, so I went with the shorter version instead - for now!

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

I’ve got a couple WIPs right now... here’s a snippet of ch8 of “Roads Go On” (which i PROMISE i will have up soon...i know i’ve been saying that for more than year but i MEAN IT this time...)

“What do you mean we can’t take the freeway?” Boromir snapped.

“My way or the highway, he means,” Gimli quipped. “And, uh...not the highway, I guess.”

Mithrandir shot Gimli a withering glare. Though he only smiled, some part of him shriveled up inside. A wizard’s evil eye was nothing to mess with.

I think I’ve already shared that snippet in a different tag game, so here’s one more for the road - this one’s from “Cause and Consequence,” my Halenthir baby OC fic. This snippet comes from a chapter that won’t be out for awhile (and might undergo some serious revamping before then), and it’s set right after the Nirnaeth, with my OC (Ryndil) about to confront their dad.

“This is no place for mortals,” Maglor said flatly. “You do know who we are, don’t you, Rýndil of Brethil?”

A shiver ran down their spine. Seven tall elf-lords, gaunt and scarred and bloody in the aftermath of a disastrous battle. Maedhros, the eldest, was a shell of the glorious figure he’d been on the battlefield; they weren’t sure if he was even awake, his eyes were so glassy and unfocused. Grief, they supposed. They’d heard the rumors about him and the High King, after all.

Maglor, leading in his place, trembling despite the firmness in his golden voice. Celegorm, bitter and angry and mean despite his fair features. Curufin, his dark shadow, flint in his eyes and venom on his tongue. Amrod and Amras, mirroring each other in their distrustful glares. And yet despite the blood and dirt and pain, a light shone from each of them. These were men to be feared, men to be worshipped.

And then there was him. Caranthir the Dark. Rýndil’s father, the blood flowing through their veins, the reason they were here in the first place. Gaunt and red-faced, the weary host of his defeated brothers, he had scarcely stopped moving about and making room for them since they arrived.

As much as Rýndil was of the Haladin, as much as they were the child of Haleth, they were bound to this family and people also.

there’s a lot of grief-stricken angry feanorian banter that comes after this (including some Maedhros characterization that i’m Very Proud Of), and honestly? i might just go ahead and post the whole excerpt if anyone wants to read it (it’s about 1.3k words) since I’m fairly sure I will be changing a lot of it anyway, even if it’s only for tone.

~

looking at these stats, i’m both kind of sad and kind of proud. like, i’m proud of myself for what i’ve written, and proud of the relationships i’ve forged with readers and writers on AO3, but i know lots and lots of folks who have waaayyy higher stats than me. i know considering i write a lot of gen and aro fic that i’ll never be a Big Name Fan, but that doesn’t stop me from being jealous... sigh...

anyway, this was very very fun!!! i tag @buffintruder @himrings @mushroomwriter @zealouswerewolfcollector @hennethgalad @absynthe--minded @stormxpadme @morifiinwe @raisingcain-onceagain annnd any other writer who sees this and wants to do it!! no pressure of course, only do it if you want to :)

(and LMK in replies if you’re interested in seeing more of that Ryndil snippet!!)

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Picture of Love | 11 (M)

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language, smut, dirty talk, praise kink

Words: 6,056

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her.  She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

"I didn't know we were going shopping." I turn to J-Hope once I finally get myself together from my insane fit of laughter.

Even standing here now with my eyes travelling over all the sexual gadgets on every wall, I couldn't bring myself to believe Jay brought me to a sex shop. The place was way bigger than I could have guessed. Rows of dildos and vibrators, vibrating dildos and anal stimulators went on forever it seemed. There were even walls stocked with weapons, accessories and rope for bondage along with every leather creation known to man. On the opposite wall of the store were imaginative costumes for roleplay. The classic doctor and nurse duo caught my eye and my mind took off with a bed room scenario including Jay in a snazzy lab coat and scrubs and me in a tight, red and white nurse's ensemble. Mmm.

Being pulled out of his shocked stare, he turns to me, flustered.  

"Yeah? Neither did I." He remarks, turning back to his surroundings with his hand with his hand on his hip, finding the humor in the situation, finally. "...Unless you wanted to...I could... you know... " he gestures to the toys to communicate that if I were interested, he would buy me something.

I'll keep that in mind.

"No, thank you. I'm quite satisfied with the collection I have now... Thanks though." I say, looking back at him to gauge his reaction, but taking a few more steps into the business.

Jay makes a slightly caught off guard face and his cheeks slowly, but surely accumulate a pink hue.

"Don't act surprised, you saw that coming. Probably." I brush off.

"Yes, I suppose I did." He laughs. "Well, I'm sorry I brought you all the way here for nothing. Makes for a good story though, ha... I'm gonna kick Suho's ass for this." He curses under his breath.

"Oh? Or did you do this on purpose to tell me something?" I move closer to him and rest my hands on his chest, making suggestive eyes at him, planning to make my move.

He takes hold of my waist in turn, but his next words contradict his actions. "Charlotte, if I wanted to tell you I wanted to sleep with you, I would." He utters smiling, as if it were nothing.

Ooh, bold and rude are we?

"So...why haven't you? Do you not want...?" I don't finish my sentence out of pure embarrassment and offense. I begin to back away and release myself from his grip in fear of making a fool of myself any further.

"No! I mean yeah, I do!" He stammers, attempting to bring my body back to himself. "I just...I thought you wanted to take things slow." He makes a very confused, yet hopeful face. My shoulders drop and I can't help, but let out a giggle.

Of course the reason he hasn't questioned me about sex is because he's concerned. How am I even able to be associated with this man?

"Yes, I do... but I'm thinking this can be the exception." I move closer and lean up to whisper in his ear and press my hand to his crotch, evoking a groan from J-Hope. "'Cuz I really like you. Also because I really wanna suck your dick." He laughs nervously, briefly ducking his head into my neck.

"That sounds... amazing, but I probably should get some food in you first." He looks down into my eyes, caressing my face once again.

"Or you could put something else in me." I persist, biting my lip for effect and keeping eye contact.

J-Hope just laughs freely, all nervousness gone. "That sounds even better, believe me, but I'm serious. You should really eat something and I'm actually pretty hungry myself." He says more sternly, but still has yet to remove my hand. That's the second hard-on I gave him today and he's not jumping my bones.

Is this a joke?

"Wow, what a gentlemen... fine, I'll play by your rules." I relent, accepting that I've lost the battle.

"Good... because soon there won't be any." he whispers in my ear and then  took my hand that was on his crotch and kissed the back of it all while looking at me with those bedroom eyes.

Mission complete. Message received.

I then take the hand that's holding mine and kiss that as well, earning a pleasantly surprised face from Jay. "Good. Let's get outta here."

I drag him out of the building, not sparing the silly blonde another glance on the way out. The car is charged with sexual tension and comfortable yet static silence.

J-Hope pulls up to a large, stone building and parks directly in front of it. "This is where we're having dinner?" I inquire as he helps me out of the car.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "Hope you don't mind." He sends me a smirk and doesn't wait for a reply, leading me towards the building that reads Nob Hill Apartments on at the top. Oh.

I take a good look around the lobby on our way to the elevator. It was filled with huge leather chairs and mahogany furniture and marble walls, altogether a very expensive looking place. Before I can comprehend what's happening, my view is disrupted by the closing of the elevator doors. Coming back to myself, I assess the situation aloud.

"So, what are we going to do about dinner at your apartment?" I'm genuinely confused as to why he didn't just go to the drive through or something. The elevator dings once we reach the fifteenth floor and we step out to approach a lone door at the end of a short corridor. "I'm gonna cook for you, of course." J-Hope takes his keys out and unlocks the door. Oh this just keeps getting better and better.

"You're... gonna cook... for me?" I stand, dumbfounded in the hall. Jay just turns to me and flags me over with a tilt of his head and a flick of his wrist. "Yes, now come in." He laughs. I cross over the threshold into Jay's apartment that happens to be huge as fuck. Before I have a good look around, he requests that I take my heels off and he removes my coat and put them all in the coat closet. A fucking coat closet in an apartment.

"Alright, would you like the grand tour?"

"Yes, please."

"Ha ha, okay."

The closest was the full bathroom, which was surprisingly, very clean, next was the fully equipped laundry room. After that, was Jay's bed room, which had a beige upholstered, king sized bed with a mac laptop resting carelessly on the bed spread, a walk in closet, another full bath, a metal computer desk with a neat desktop setup, for editing I assume, and a stack of books on top of it. The walls were a cool grey and the space was very tidy, but the room still gave off a comfortable, "lived-in" feeling.

"Next is the living room." Along with the initial door that lead us to the bedroom from the hall, there was a sliding, white door that took up most of the wall that lead to the living room. 

Well shit.

The first thing I notice about the living room was the magnificent view of the city from its abundant windows. The Golden Gate and Bay bridges along with the rest of the San Francisco were lit up against the night sky. I let out a content sigh. J-Hope comes to stand beside me as I stare at the beautiful view. "That view is part of the reason why I took the place. My roommate loves that view too." I immediately turn my head in his direction at this.

"Roommate?" I ask, slightly concerned.

"Oh, yeah, well, not really my roommate, my friend is just staying for a while. He won't be back tonight though, don't worry." He rubs my arms, comfortingly, while shooting me a flirtatious glance and I decide to study the living room further so as to not jump his bones right here. 

He'd better not.

It had dark, hardwood floors with a large grey rug covering most of it and a coffee table sat on top of it. A hefty three seat, leather couch accompanies the coffee table and is flanked by two more leather armchairs in front of the full entertainment system and massive flat screen.

"Nice." I say to myself, but he responds "Thanks. That's my guest/roommate's room over there." He points to the closed, sliding door on the right of the living room, directly across from his.

"And this is where all the magic happens. The kitchen." I am then lead into the kitchen that does not belong inside an apartment, but a two story suburban home. There's every kitchen appliance ever to exist and all the cabinet space you could ever wish for. There's even a granite island with three stools in front of it. I take a seat in one as J-Hope gets to work pulling out utensils and ingredients. I watch as he pulls the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to his forearms and washes his hands.

"You have such a nice place here." I say continuing to ogle my surroundings.

"Thanks. Yeah, I worked really hard for it." He doesn't bother taking his attention off of what he's doing.

"I see that. What does your roommate do?" I ask, simply trying to make conversation. I could give a shit what his roommate does for a living.

"Uh, he's a music producer." He shares absentmindedly, very focused on his task.

"Oh, that's cool." I nod. "What are we eating anyway?" I try to peak over his shoulder.

"Chicken parmesan and some spaghetti." I audibly gasp behind him, my eyes popping out of my head.

"That's my favorite food." I announced excitedly.

He turns slightly to me with a pleased smirk. "I know." He almost purrs or at least that's what it sounded like to me. "Oooh, he listens." I cooed proudly. "Of course he does." He shot back satisfied with himself causing me to giggle.

This along with the thought that he probably prepared for this night under different circumstances on a separate occasion really warmed my heart completely.

"Hey, you want some wine to hold you over? This might take a while." He points to the chicken he was in the middle of seasoning.

"Oh, yes please." I accept without a second thought. J-Hope pulls a bottle of Dom Pérignon Rose from the fridge and pours two glasses. I take a sip and savor the taste and watch Jay as impressed as I've ever been. Man, he's got money, a nice car, a nice place and he can cook! 

From what I can smell anyway. God, please don't let me fuck this up anytime soon.

We make small talk for a little while longer before I begin to get bored just sitting and watching his back, so I make my way to the counter, near the stove, where he's working to get a closer look. I glance at the browning chicken in the pan and then up at J-Hope through my lashes and we lock eyes before he chuckles and looks away, I notice, he even starts to blush. How fucking cute is that?!

"You want a sneak peak?" He says, preparing a spoon full of the homemade spaghetti sauce for me to sample. Yeah, a sneak peak of that dick.

"Yeah sure!" I answer, just happy to have his attention again.

He happily escorts the spoon to my lips and my eyes widen once the sauce hits my taste buds.

"Jay," I grab his arm quickly as if I have pressing information to tell him. He looks back at me intently, awaiting my message. "I don't know if you know this, but...this is actually good." I say in a shocked voice. I drop the act and let out a chuckle when his shoulders drop from their tense pose and he narrows his eyes at me.

"That's very funny, but I'm not surprised." He replies, suddenly reaching out to touch my face. He swipes his thumb across the corner of my mouth and comes back with a red sauce that he immediately sucks into his mouth all while making eye contact with those bedroom eyes of his. "Tease." I whisper under my breath, making my way back to the island to sip on my wine. Jay chuckles at my actions and continues cooking, forcing me to do nothing, but look at his impressive back muscles. Taunting me without even trying now.

Get it together Char.

More small talk ensues until I peak to see Jay plating the food. He brings two plates and the bottle of wine over to the island and sits beside me. "Whew! Finally, I'm starving." I dig in without a second thought or reply from Jay. Once again I'm speechless at how delicious this dish is that I've been eating all my life.

"OH, J-Hope!" I mumble frantically through all the food in my mouth. He all-but jumps in his chair and looks me over for any injuries. "What? What is it!? Is it the food? What's wrong?" He asks wildly, trying to find solutions.

I nod hurriedly and swallowed everything in order to speak. "J-Hope, this is so fucking good!" I announce the reason why I was making a fuss and his expression completely changes from one of concern to betrayal. He goes back to eating his meal, fighting off a desperate need to laugh, while I for one took to laughing at his expense openly.

"Awww, Jay. Don't be mad." I teased through laughter as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." He replied, emotionless. "Awww, I'm sorry. It was just so delicious. I couldn't help myself." I say peppering kisses along the exposed right side of his body. I continue to do this as a moment of silence comes over us until Jay speaks up.

"That's twice I fell for that joke." he whispers. "I know! I'm amazing aren't I?" I let go to reward myself with a fork full of chicken parm.

"I can't argue with you there. Just not again, please." He looks up feebly, only half joking. "Yes, Jay, you got it. Thanks so much for cooking me this amazing meal by the way. It's lovely." A genuine smiles adorns his perfect face and I mentally pat myself on the back for putting it there.

"Of course, I've actually been wanting to do this for a while, but haven't found the right time. Ha, maybe I should be thanking Suho for telling me to go to that place."

I knew it! He had been planning to make me dinner after all. I don't know how to respond once my suspicions are proven true, as I'm filled with so much pleasure to hear that he would plan all this for me. It shows that he really put a lot of thought into this night to cook my favorite food, save an expensive wine bottle for the occasion and entertain my foolishness all the while. I place my hand on his forearm that rested on the table without thinking.

"You don't have to, you know?" I said in a low voice.

"Don't have to what?" he inquired genuinely lost at my vague sentence.

"To...Impress me, I guess." J-Hope was clearly not expecting this answer, as his eyes got the slightest bit wider and his mouth moved into a small frown. He was obviously lost. "I mean...What I mean to say is, you've taken me to the most expensive restaurants and nothing less, used your resources and connects to get wonderful photos and videos for my band and here you've worked really hard to make me this amazing meal and...I really appreciate it. No one has ever done this much for me... But I would be satisfied with like a burger and fries or something too." We both can't help, but laugh at that last part.

"I know Charlotte. That's the main reason why I like you so much." I give a toothy grin at the compliment that made me feel warm inside and make a side note to ask him about the other reasons later. We each go back to eating in comfortable silence before he decided he had more to say on the topic.

"I want to, though." Were his next words, leaving me the one to look at him in confusion. "Impress you, I mean... I mean it's not like you don't deserve it and it's no secret, I think you're... incredible and honestly, probably the most stunning girl I've ever met." I look down at the commendation out of habit. Jay gets up out of his chair to close the distance between us and lift my chin up to look at him with his thumb and index finger. "So forgive me for wanting to go the extra mile for someone as utterly brilliant as you are."

My stomach struggled to withhold the slew of butterflies running rampant inside it at the amount of praise coming from Hoseok. I honestly didn't know how to take it all, I definitely wasn't used to this and I could swear I felt tears flaring up behind my eyes at the sentiment. But there was no time to process it anyways seeing as Jay's lips were headed straight for mine and I welcomed them, gladly.

He took my face in both hands and bent down to plant on a kiss on my waiting lips. Instinctively, I wrap my hands around his middle, feeling everything I can and let my legs spread wider to give him better access so that I was on the edge of my seat and there is no space left between us. Jay's tongue easily enters my mouth as the kiss turns rough and I let out a soft moan, loving where this is going.

He runs his hands down my sides, not missing a single curve on his way to my thighs. I feel his hands caress the backs of my thighs and suddenly I'm being lifted into the air onto the island in the same exact position without breaking the kiss. An excited and impressed squeal escapes as I land, causing Hoseok to chuckle into my mouth. His mouth travels down my jaw to my neck, spending time on my sweet spot before he explores my collar bones and repeating the whole process with a hunger, like his life depended on it.

He dragged my body to the edge of the counter, one hand on each of my ass cheeks, causing my skirt to ride all the way up. With this, he properly grinded into my center, which was right where I needed him.

"Nnngh... You gonna give me what I want now?" I ask breathlessly in Hoseok's ear, in as sultry a voice as I can muster. "Yes, Charlotte." He pants in between his attacks on my neck. "Anything... You want... It's yours."

Arousal seemed to rush between my legs at the assertion and the delicious assault he was delivering to my jugular.

"Mmm." I hummed in approval, gripping the silky black hair at the crown of his head and pulling it back so that I could look him in those beautiful brown eyes. He wasn't expecting the rough action, moaning at the loss of exposed skin to gnaw on. He looked absolutely ravenous. His eyelids hooded with lust, chest heaving with excitement, ready to pounce again at any moment. I doubted I looked any different. 

It was an odd experience, seeing Hoseok so wild and untamed like his usual gentlemanly self, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to enjoy every minute of it.

"Take me to you room." I say before connecting our lips again. Jay wastes no time in picking me up and getting us to his room. He makes a b-line directly for the bed and carefully places me down on it before going to climb on top of me.  He gives me a passionate kiss that sends warmth through my chest and continues his onslaught on my neck. 

"God, I love your collar bones." He explains giving them a pleasant nip. I moan in delight at the statement. He starts to make his way down my body and I stop him because I have plans of my own.

"Ah-ah." I interrupt him. Jay looks up at me in bewilderment. "Take off your pants and get on your back." I instruct earnestly. A smug smirk appears on J-Hope's face, I don't return it seeing as he is unmoving between my legs. "You calling the shots now baby?" I try not to get distracted by the titillating chill that runs up my spine at the pet name or the memory of our almost first kiss with the phrase before it.

"Don't play dumb, you know what I want." I press, not even trying to hide the carnal desire building up inside of me for this man. Jay seems taken aback and pleased with my answer all at once. He moves off the bed to properly remove his offensive clothing, getting completely naked. "Fuck." I let slip while ogling his body, seeing that he has six pack abs and a very large penis.

"Soon, just be patient." He replies in a smug voice, getting back on the bed. I take advantage of his position and grab hold of his shoulders, pinning him to the bed so that I'm on top. "Smartass." I say as I go to flick his nipple with my tongue.

"Sss! Ahh, uh, that's new." He swallows hard, not knowing what to do with his hands at the sign of something new. "Just sit back and relax, baby." I drawled, pleased that the pet name had the same effect on him as it did on me.

I watch him visibly release the tension from his body and went back to tracing the expanses of his body with my tongue. Jay was mostly silent unless it had to do with his nipples or the area around his privates. I teased him by leaving hickeys on his hips and v-lines and blowing on the sensitive skin, even going as far as biting his thighs a couple of times. 

I would make my way back and forth across his pubic bone and kitten-lick his cockhead each time, but never putting it in my mouth, causing him to whimper. I was having the time of my life just worshipping this man's body, enjoying his moans of pleasure with no rush for him to return the favor... Now that's new.

In my fun-filled daze, I hear Jay's voice in between the pants and whines. "Charlotte," He mewls. "Please..."

Oh? "Hm?" I look up to find his face screwed up in anguish, his left hand fisted in the sheets and the other half covering his face. "What was that?" I question, nipping at his abdominal muscles once more.

"Please-ss! Please stop teasing..." He looks down at me, pleadingly, which I return with a smug smile of my own. I've never been the one to earn pleas from a partner during sex, let alone wish to hear someone beg, but with Hoseok, it was one of the most magnificent sounds to ever grace my ears. It's all I've ever wanted.

"Is that what I'm doing?" I ask coyly. "Yes, Charlotte that is what you're doi-haugh!" His fretting was cut short as I finally took his erection in my hand, offering some kind of friction. "There's no need to raise your voice." I all, but whisper, letting the heat of my breath fall onto the tip of his cock.

"Hoo, ha ha, Charlotte," He begins, losing his patience.

"Say it again." I let my tongue slide up the side of his length briefly.

"Ahh, say what?" Jay asked cluelessly, surely losing his mind. "You know what." Is all I offer him with a sinister gaze. I felt a surge of power rush over me and I loved it. Being in control for once.

"Huhh... Please?" He takes a crack at it, but I wanted more. "Is that all you got?" I inquire while running my fingers along the underside of his balls.

"Mmm! Please, Charlotte will you put my dick in your mouth?" He spat out all at once, chest heaving.

"Mm, better... What will you give me?" I give his cock one long stroke and watch his body shudder. My mouth fell open at the sight and I couldn't resist the urge to touch myself. I hiked my skirt all the way up and stuck my hand inside my underwear to find an insane, but not surprising, amount of arousal already there. Collecting some, I teasingly swirled my fingers around my clit waiting for Hoseok's reply.

Hoseok looks down to see what all the movement is and his head falls back on the bed defeatedly in response. "Ugh, anything! I'll give you anything." He repeats his words from earlier and it's almost enough. I just need one more thing.

"Who's cock is this?" His dick twitches in my hand at the query.

"Oh, it's yours. It's all yours Charlotte, all of it." He panted out wholeheartedly, making my clit throb underneath my fingers and my stomach fill with butterflies simultaneously. With this, I finally took him into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks and jerking him off with my hand. 

Jay tremors with the contact and immediately fists the sheets, this time with both hands. I take the hand in my panties and drag his fist to my head, signalling that he should grab onto  that instead. He takes the hint and takes a fist full of my hair in his hand and tugs, causing my hand to quickly find its way to my clit again.

"You like when I pull on your hair, huh, baby?" I nod as I bob my head up and down on his dick and let out a moan of approval, sending vibrations through him, causing him to pull on my hair again and the cycle continued as such until Hoseok announces, "I'm gonna cum, Charlotte." I made no move to get off of him, I only nod in understanding. This exchange gives Hoseok the approval he needs to hold my head down on his cock as he hits the back of my throat. 

Tears well up in my eyes at the pressure, but I fight through it as this is all I wanted and this is definitely not my first rodeo. He groans and comes down my throat in hot spurts, waves of pleasure visibly running through his body as he does. He promptly sinks into the bed, satiated and happy while I clean up the mess, still sucking on and sometimes licking up and down his cock because I can. 

Hoseok comes back to life at some point and doesn't stop me, he only caresses my face and massages my scalp and I feel him start to get hard again in my mouth. 

"God, you are amazing." He looks down at me with nothing, but adoration and I give the same gaze back.

"Come here." He orders with his finger. I'm powerless against his strong, heated gaze as I climb my way back up his body. He meets me halfway and I'm sat in his lap, kissing his soft, swollen lips. He works my shirt up over my head and gets rid of my bra in record time. This most definitely is not his first rodeo either. 

He forces me straight back and pins me to the bed now. He eyes my bruised neck and chest with pink and red hickeys covering my brown skin, proudly before diving in to gift me more. I giggle and moan at the gesture. He must really have a thing for collar bones, it's kind of cute.

He travels down to my breasts and gets a kick out of my squirming as he greedily, stroked my nipples with his tongue. Migrating further south, he licked and sucked skillfully down the plains of my body with his sinful mouth. I whined at the loss of contact, as he carelessly removed my skirt and underwear at once. He looks me over once again in awe, it seems. I almost start to fidget under his gaze, but I fight it. The show I put on earlier reminds me of how confident I truly am and I find the power to gaze right back at him with lust filled eyes, silently begging him to take me.

"You're so beautiful, Charlotte." The pure adoration in the way he utters my name sends a delicious chill down my spine. I smile in thanks, not knowing what else to say and frankly struggling to find the words. He doesn't give it a second thought, instead, he backs up and pushes my legs back so that they're touching my stomach and takes my clit into his mouth without warning. 

I intuitively, buck my hips into his mouth, Jay puts a stop to that by grabbing my thighs and forcing them down. The force he exerts will definitely leave bruising, but I find I am more than okay with that when I think about how I want Jay to leave his mark on me. The thought alone causes me to moan out and I grab Jay's head for leverage, twisting my fingers into that thick black hair that I love so much. He hums in approval into my pussy and I let out a tiny shriek.

"Ohhh, yes! Don't. Fucking. Stop." I pull his face closer to my cunt with both hands and my body arches off the bed when he sucks my clit into his mouth and repeatedly flicks his tongue against it full force.

"Shit! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, hah!" I felt myself getting close when he Jay inserted two fingers and started fingering me at an intense speed, catapulting me directly into my orgasm. My body froze in place and everything around me stood still. I let out a silent cry and my eyes rolled back into my head as Jay continued to finger me tirelessly for what felt like forever. He continued until I begged him to stop and I couldn't get mad at him for it because I loved every second.

I laid there in a drunken daze, chest rising and falling frantically, slightly convulsing without being touched. I felt Hoseok's body cover mine without putting much weight on me and I turned to face to him. He put both his hands on my face and kept calling my name even though I was right in front of him. With my vision slightly clouded with white spots and my drunken nature, I could see why he might be alarmed.

"Hey, Charlotte? You okay, babe?" The pleasant nickname brought some awareness to me and my senses and I was finally able to make Hoseok out with no spots or anything blocking my vision. The only thing I could think to do when I saw his beautiful face was to kiss him deeply. And the only thing I could think to say afterward was "Thank you."

He just laughs and caresses my face. "Anytime Charlotte." He lays his head on my chest and we just lay there for a while, enjoying the other's company.

"I mean what are you aquaman?" I jokingly ask, causing the both of us nearly cry with laughter. "No, but I try." He lifts his head up slowly and sends me a timid gaze. "You think you got one more in you?" He asks through hopeful, squinted eyes.

As if on cue, his cock twitches against my thigh, fully hard and I can feel arousal swell deep in my gut once more. 

"If what happens next is anything like what I just experienced, I got whatever you want." I said seriously, looking deep into his eyes. He smiled, getting up to put on a condom and bouncing back to the bed like an excited puppy. He gazed at me longingly from above before pouncing on my lips. He kissed me fervently all the while reaching to down to make sure I was still wet enough for the main event. Of course I was.

"You ready?" He asks. "I been ready for a long time." I reply truthfully. I've waited for this moment for what seems like forever and now that it's finally here, I'm trying to revel in it for as long as possible.

Suddenly, he thrust his cock inside me while staring deep into my eyes and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. My jaw goes slack and I still his hips to get used to his massive size, but I don't look away. Eye contact during sex isn't a foreign concept to me, but I haven't done it with anyone since my ex. I didn't expect to want to capture the feeling it brings with Hoseok, but it feels more right now than it ever did before.

I girate my hips toward him, letting him know it's okay to move and he pulls almost all the way out and then delves back into me deeply. He hits my g-spot with most of his thrusts, causing my jaw to drop and my eyes to roll back into my head briefly before I refocus on him again and again.

"God, you look so fuckin' hot when you do that. Nnngh, so good baby, you're so good." I smile lazily and hum happily at the praise given to me. Jay takes notice of this.

"You like when I tell you how good you are?" He demands, his thrusts getting more powerful. "Ah! Yes!" My back completely arches off the bed and Hoseok follows my hips up into a new angle where he's on his knees, taking the weight of my hips and my shoulders and arms are the only part of me on the bed.

I let out a shout at the new angle that is bringing me closer and closer to my climax. "Right there! Oh my God, yes!" I scream as Hoseok takes complete control, guiding my body where it needs to go with his body as well as with his words.

"Oh, yes. You're so good Charlotte. Just taking my cock like that. Just take it, it's yours. All yours baby. Ooh--squeeze it like that again... Oh fuck."

Hoseok's intoxicating words and his rapid thrusts left me floating in a sea of nothingness. Euphoria spread from the tips of my toes to the every pore in my body. I was once again frozen in time and space, just a non-responsive pile of gummy limbs left throbbing around this cock for him to use as he pleased. And use it, he did and I welcomed every second of it. He came into the condom a while after me because he has the labido of a horse on steroids and collapsed on top of me. It was not a completely unwelcomed experience. I eventually wrapped my arms around him and vice versa, I was completely content.

A few minutes later, he got up to throw the condom away and made his way back to bed for a bit of cuddling. I haven't been a cuddler for years, but like most things when it came to Hoseok, I made an exception.

"That was absolutely amazing." He uttered into my chest, that was now cluddered with hickeys and fingerprints. "You can say that again. You're a fucking animal Jay, who knew?" We both laughed.

"I could say the same about you. Oh and Charlotte?"

"Yeah?" I peer down at him to get a better look.

"If we're gonna keep doing this, maybe you should learn how to pronounce my real name so I can hear you scream it next time." He smiles at me only half-joking.

I don't hesitate to take the pillow under him and slam it down on his face.

But he's not wrong, I would love to.

[dreadhaus-literature]

{A/N} Waiting on the Sun to Rise.

Oh how I wish that ol’ sun would rise~♫

I wrote a bit. {Points down.} It’s nothing special, 2nd POV just ‘cause idk what’s going on with anything again and it feels weird to try and write dedicated pieces when stuff’s off. {Waves a hand in a circle.} Said it before, but this time I’m trying not to let it keep me from writing. Used to use that as an excuse to not write or do anything but I keep saying if I keep that up I’ll literally never do anything and I’m in my 30′s, now.

I’m ready to do stuff. And so I’m gonna do stuff.

I’ve been reading “The Writer’s Process” by Anne Janzer, which was recommended to authors who want to know how to prep for writing seriously, sort of like a “how to get started writing novels” 101 book. It had really good reviews on Amazon and I’m on Chapter Five right now. It’s only about 200 pages long, if that, but it’s honestly really useful. It’s got good tips on balancing work/personal life with trying to write (like you have to actually dedicate time to write, can’t just expect to write a novel on wishful thinking) or how to help stimulate creativity. It includes tidbits and tips from psychologists who have done studies on the best way to tackle creative processes like writing so you can get the most out of your writing; it’s really been a helpful tool. The chapter I’m on right now talks about tackling procrastination, lmao, and how to self-discipline--which I have said is one of my biggest problems. I make excuses, I find reasons to not write, I let myself get distracted, but I’ve been saying all year I’m tired of looking back on the year before and spying all the wasted time and just sighing @ myself.

There’s no excuse other than me being lazy and/or making excuses. The older I get, the less forgiving I get with myself about it.

My 20′s I am now realizing was really not a good time for me to try and get published, I’m sort of allowing myself a pass because now that I’m out of that decade, I realize I was working through a lot of shit. I was still dealing with abuse into my late 20′s and while no one’s life is perfect I recognize that I wasn’t in a good enough headspace to dig deep and write well. My emotions are 97% of my writing and they weren’t right. Now that I’m in a better place in all aspects (still working on the living situation, but got less than a year to go, there) I can shelve the self-reflective work and start trying to make something of this talent and imagination I’ve got.

I don’t really know where this aggressive, “I am going to write.” mojo has come from. I mean I’ve always, always known I wanted to be an author but it was sort of a hobby more than a career. I wasn’t taking it seriously and there’s probably lots of reasons for that--

1. Was dealing with depression and teetering on finding any self-worth enough to try to make something of myself. 2. Been told from a young age that I was not good enough and to give up/not bother trying because I won’t make it. 3. Afraid of failure and the resulting, “I told you so”‘s.

So yeah. I just hid behind fanfiction and sprinkling my OC’s and plotlines through fandom work, which allowed me to express what I wanted to express without fear of failure or putting myself out there. But that’s not enough, at least...I don’t know. I’ll always have a heavy preference for writing for FL and Monica and stuff, but I treat that like...hm. Almost like a treat? It’s a treat for me. To give something of myself to someone I love very much. Her reactions will always be my favorite.

Stepping outside of that, though, fanfiction stopped being enough for me a number of years ago. It was too confining, I had so many ideas and characters and themes and stuff I wanted to put out there that I didn’t want to work in a confined space anymore. Y’know that saying, “Of course you’re uncomfortable and unhappy where you are--you’ve grown, you’ve changed, you are no longer that person. It’s time to move on.”

I feel that.

It was like wearing a pair of shoes that were too small. Yes, I could wear them and get somewhere, but not the distance I needed, and wanted to go. My hopes of being published haven’t gone away. I’m scared to try still, lol, I know my writing’s good, it’s the one thing I know I’m good at, but the way I want to do it is different than the norm. In a way, selfishly, I feel like Christine. She was one of the only people writing paranormal romance when she started, and she’s said how she had to push and push to get her publisher to take a chance on her work, that she knew she had something good and she didn’t give up on it. And now, we have the Carpathians. ♥ I’m somewhat in the same boat with wanting to write 2nd POV. I’m totally capable of making a heroine and giving her a name and backstory but I know what I like to read when I read fanfiction. 2nd POV. It’s more personal, it resonates, and tbh it helped me through some really difficult parts of my life. I want to return that to my readers. To give them that personal immersion that 2nd POV provides. But those aren’t the books that are published.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t have a novel finished or anything, lmao. I just, it’s one of my fears. That I’ll write this novel in 2nd POV and not be able to get it published...but I suppose I should cross the first part of that particular problem before anything else. Can’t fret about being published if there ain’t shit TO publish, DOT.

I’ve got a few novel ideas. Milano hasn’t gone away, lol. He still lurks about, like he’s just waiting for me to get my ass in gear and actually write his book properly.

...I really did sort of just use Yu Yu Hakusho to sort of write my own practice novel of Milano’s, lmao, if I’m being honest. I mean I did also want to go the hipster route and write for Yusuke because he was so under-loved in the community and I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t subjugating favoritism but truthfully I wanted to let Milano loose. I was proud of him, proud of the story and world I’d created around him, and I needed an outlet for it and was too young to know what to do with what I had. Was fucking 18 years old, fresh out of high school, and in way over my head honestly. Now that I’m matured, older, and my ADHD isn’t kicking my brain around like a pinball machine, I think I can do him proper justice.

So yes, Milano, I will still be writing your novel. Just uh, don’t ask me when. Baby steps.

I also have Bram’s story that I wrote 20 some odd pages of outline and prep work on, that I fully intended to novelize. And I still think I have something there, so hold onto your obsession, Bram. You’re up on the board, too.

The most recent idea I had was for a series of novels, called Help Wanted. It actually started from the most recent story I wrote for Monica, where she delivered those specialized herbs to Milano. I essentially work in a service industry and it got me thinking about how I like to take care of people, that you don’t typically see that in romance novels. Usually the heroine is the one being taken care of and while I won’t object to that, I also like to do the taking care of. And it’s not an itch I get to scratch a lot, when I read. So I have been tossing around this series of novels where the heroine of each book is a caregiver of some sorts, taking care of the love interest in some way, shape, or form.

For example, the idea I came up with today was for a human nanny (the reader) who gets hired by a vampire to take care of his child after his wife was staked/murdered. The vampire is hopeless as a father and needs all the help he can get, and his child needs a proper caregiver. The nanny comes highly recommended and to make matters worse, when shown a list of potential caregivers the child picks her out of all the other candidates. The vampire is wary of allowing a human in his home but he’s rewarded when his little one flourishes under the love and attention the new nanny brings. Can the vampire come to trust and love one of the very same who killed his late wife?

Another idea I had was for a bubbly housekeeper/caregiver who comes to care for a depressed zombie/undead. The undead can barely take care of themselves and the caregiver was hired by a Wellness Committee, who keep tabs on supernaturals (think like child or elder protective services). The undead wants nothing to do with life but can’t die--but maybe, just maybe, with a little bit of TLC from their caregiver they can learn to live again. Happily, with the one who truly saved their soul.

Obviously don’t judge me too harshly, I’m literally like two days into this idea, lmao. It’s rough around the edges, like super rough, but it’s something that speaks to me. It’d be sort of like the Carpathians as in like, a shared universe, with all sorts of different love interests per novel--it’d be paranormal so there’d be monsters and demons and ghosts, weres and mers and just--maybe even superheroes! Or that could be a spin-off series or just--

See it’s just a lot and it’s all brand new and I’m still working all this out.

BUT! What’s exciting to me is that I have ideas, still. I still want to write, I’m still living in this creative, imaginary headspace and I’m still wanting to share that world. I think I’ll just always be this person, and that’s not a complaint. I’m glad. Imaginary places got me through my childhood and tbh it’s what’s getting me through this hectic shit we call adulthood.

I’ve been saying, all year, that I’m going to keep going and I’ll probably keep saying it. I’m still working a lot of stuff out, still figuring out my writing process and I need to get back to writing every day (I did it for the first three months of the year so I know I can do it) so that when the time comes for me to sit down and write for Milano, for Bram, for Help Wanted--

That I’ll still be ready to go. 💕

[bladengineer]

a loud house

Title: a loud house

Characters: Blitzkrieg Boys + Sasha Alexeyev (OC)

Word Count: 1558

Summary: Snippets of the Alexeyev Household – the home of teenage disasters, petty arguments, russian yelling and boisterous laughter all in-between.

It was almost ironic how time seemed to slow down when disaster was about to happen – infuriatingly more so, when you can’t prevent the said disaster in time. So, with a painful sounding thump!, Bryan slid another few inches forward on his belly over the wooden floorboards, arms outstretched as the expensive looking ming vase shattered into, what he felt like, a million of pieces. He could even feel the impact on his very finger tips, it made him both angry and irritated because oh fuck, that particular vase was Boss Lady’s favourite.

They’re so dead.

“We’re so dead,” he muttered horrified, wide eyes still glued to the pathetic heap of shards in front of him. Behind him, Spencer made a sound between a terrified squeak and pained groan. The two teenage boys proceeded to look at each other with various levels of fear and Bryan was sure, Spencer’s face journeyed through the entire stages of grief in a span of 10 seconds. He would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so hellbent on trying to convince himself that all of this was a fucked up nightmare – Boss Lady will ground their asses well into the next century.

“What was that sound?”

Speaking of the devil. They had to act quick if they wanted to keep their generous outdoor life privileges, so Bryan quickly heaved himself onto his knees and hastily tried to scrape the shards together, mindful of the sharp edges. He threw a panicked look over his shoulder.

“C’mon Spence! Help me, it was your fault anyway!”

To his confusion however, instead of helping him, Spencer’s face went somber as the telltale sound of footsteps ascending the nearby stairs rang through the house. Slowly, Spencer backed away from Bryan, regret in his eyes as he shook his head. Bryan gaped at him.

“Spencer. Don’t you dare–”

The blond stood within his room he shared with Ian, slowly closing his door, face hard.

“Long live the king, Bryan.”

“Spencer, I swear– did you just quote The Lion King at me?!” Bryan hissed, “Spence– Spencer, get your ass–”

The door clicked close and he could only stare at the door in absolute disbelief – betrayed, in cold blood, by his very own brethren. Was this how heartbreak felt like? He couldn’t mull over it too much when a shadow fell over him. Bryan cringed.

“Is that my favourite vase?”

Oh man, and he was really looking forward to that Friday Sale at the local Arts & Crafts Store.

Sasha lifted off the rattling pot lid, mindful of the hot steam emerging from underneath. She took a good whiff, smiling contently at the pleasant smell of food. Swiftly, she picked up the ladle she had put aside previously, stirring the contents in the pot. Attempting a taste, Sasha scooped some of the curry out of the pot, free hand clawing at the countertop next to her. After coming up empty, she furrowed her brows, finally looking away from the pot.

“Huh,” she mumbled. Weird, she was sure she left the fork from before right there. Shrugging, she turned down the heat, checked the rice cooker and then opened the drawer where she put all her cutlery. There, she fished out another fork, only to blink, stunned, again.

Where did her wire whip go? She could’ve sworn it wasn’t missing before, she didn’t even use it today. Now suspicious, she pierced a potato within the curry, blowing on it to dispel some of the heat before eating it. Deeming the curry ready, she went on to get the plates. To her surprise, when she opened the plate cabinet, she was greeted by the sight of the electric hand mixer.

“What on earth–” Sasha muttered, taking the utensil out of it’s wrong spot, only to notice how much lighter it felt than normal. Then, as if on cue, one of the surrounding plastic shells dropped from its unscrewed position, allowing Sasha to discover that the entire motor was missing inside.

A beat of silence. Then, she turned her gaze towards the ceiling.

“IAN!”

Snickering, Bryan took in Tala’s dismayed look and the split lip the other was sporting. Meanwhile, Sasha was busy brewing tea and fussing at the same time.

“I can’t believe you punched that kid at the festival!”

Tala grunted, “He deserved it.”

The woman gave him an unimpressed look.

“Well,” Bryan drawled, “the guy did try to kiss Astrid without her permission, he had it coming.”

“He deserved more than a punch,” Tala grumbled further, leaning his head back against the couch. The Alexeyevs had decided to visit the local festival for a fun day and a chance to meet up with one of Sasha’s former daughters Astrid Rundström, a sweet but incredibly shy young scandinavian woman, who had left the household to attend her scholarship at a prestigious art school abroad. She had been the first ‘sibling’ the boys had met, and though the woman towered over almost half of them, her personality was meek but kind. And despite initially low-key teasing her constantly how her looks didn't match her character, Tala had taken an incredibly protective stance on her – sure, the other boys did too, Ian was even ready to deck the guy at the festival after Astrid had broken into a fit of anxious tears, but Tala had always been the one to fend off unwanted attention.

“So you just break a guy’s nose?” Sasha’s voice brought him back from his reverie.

“He also lost a tooth,” Bryan informed unhelpfully her, which earned him a scornful glare from Tala. Realising his mistake, Bryan shrugged as if to say ‘my bad’ and ducked out of the living room, back outside.

The traitor.

Tala heard Sasha sigh and he watched how she craned her neck to look out of the window – no doubt trying to see if the others were still outside. Spencer and Ian had taken up the task to calm Astrid down, the youngest pelting a joining Bryan with snowballs in an effort to make Astrid smile again. The redhead prepared himself for a long lecture, when a small bag of special festival-only dried chocolate-covered strawberries was shoved under his nose. he looked up to see Sasha grinning down at him.

“Don’t tell your siblings, Pretty One,” she said, winking, “good job on that jerk.”

Tala snorted, taking the bag and opening it eagerly – he had a taste of them before and they were absolutely delicious.

“You’re so full of shit, Babushka.”

He got another bag from Astrid later, who smiled down at him serenely.

“Bryan, you absolute piece of shit!”

Tala’s screech greeted the entire family seated at the table in the morning as he came thundering down the stairs. Sasha, halfway through her usual morning tea, immediately looked up, appalled and ready to rip her second eldest a new one. That was, until she saw his face.

“Ay, Pretty One, what happened to your face?” she blurted out, causing the rest to finally turn around. Ian snorted into his cereal, immediately cackling loudly as he pointed at Tala, whose usual clear skin was now mottled with what looked like green paint. Spencer avoided eye contact altogether in favour of trying to conceal his twitching lips. Bryan, however, unabashedly grinned at Tala’s misfortune while taking a huge bite out of his peanut butter-strawberry jam toast. Icy blue eyes immediately zeroed in on him.

“You,” Tala hissed, “you did this!”

Bryan only shrugged, finishing his toast.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, Red, but I hope that teaches you not spill nice on other people’s sketch books.”

“Oddly specific for someone who doesn’t know what’s going on,” Spencer muttered behind his mug before taking a gulp. Sasha put her hands on her hips, ready for a lecture but Tala interrupted her as he leaned forward, glaring at Bryan with such ferocity, the other actually started sweating a little.

“I shall piss on everything you love,” he threatened and Bryan would’ve laughed if he didn’t know what Tala was truly capable of. Ian sniggered again.

“Kinky,”

Spencer choked on his drink.

“IAN!”

“Guys, this is a bad idea.” “Spence, you always think it’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah, because that shit usually blows up.” “Hey, you gotta sacrifice some things for innovation!”

“Well, your innovations always catch fire, Ian.”

“Uh, no they don’t.”

“The automatic potato peeler.”

“Self-serving coffee pot.”

“Automatic can opener slash jellybeans dispenser.”

“Oh god, that one was a mess.”

“You guys are all shitheads, you know that, right?”

“Shut up, pipsqueak, and fire it up.” “Don’t tell me what to do, Bryan!”

“10 bucks says it’s gonna blow up.”

“You’re on, Red!”

“Oh, fuck off, guys.”

“If you ain’t moving, I’ll do it myself then.”

“I– wait, Bryan, no! That– ouch! That is very sensitive, you can’t just–!”

“Eh, what could go wrong?”

“I really hate when you say that.”

“Zip it Spencer. Bryan, turn...whatever that is on.”

Sasha sat at her desk in her workshop, sketching up a new watch design, when a sudden explosion shook her room. Not a minute later, a barrage of angry russian floated through her open window, followed by roaring laughter. She shook her head, chuckling slightly.

My, what a handful they are.

She left her seat, sticking her head out of the window.

“Boys!”