#i'm running laps in my room i'm chewing through my own leg i feel so normal & fine right now

[exostrangers]

i literally feel so insane about this right now

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Eighteen

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: mentions of death, swearing, suggestive, fluff word count: 3.6k a/n: I'm aware not much happened in this part but I'm trying my hardest to keep this interesting while I'm in writer's block. IM TRYING Y'ALL I PROMISE IT ONLY GETS BETTER !!

pov: matt

I watched as her chest rose and fell delicately against my own, her hand clutching the skin of my torso as if I'd slip away at any given moment. I woke up earlier than I usually do, the light shining through the curtains blindingly. I delicately brushed her blonde hair behind her ear, smiling down at her peaceful state. I sighed, throwing my head back into the pillows behind me as I held her closer to me, not wanting to leave this calm moment.

She shifted in her sleep, humming lowly while moving her head up further to lay on my shoulder. I chewed on my lip, wondering whether or not I wanted to wake her up and bother going to school or if I should just skip the day as a whole and spend it with her.

"Matt," she mumbled and I tilted my head up, looking down at her to see her eyes were still closed, her mouth hung open as she was still in a peaceful slumber.

"Pretty girl?" I whispered, checking if she was awake but I had no response as she shifted her legs to land between mine. I smiled once again, running my hand along the soft skin of her lower back.

"Baby," she mumbled against my chest again, her voice shaking slightly before shifting against me once more. She breathed in sharply before she lifted her head off of my chest. Suddenly, her eyes blinked open and she looked around the room with a frown and I tilted my head to look at her.

"You okay?" I asked quietly, noticing her sudden tenseness and she shook her head. I returned my hand to her back, rubbing up and down her spine to ease the tension in her body, "What's wrong?"

"Nightmare," she mumbled, her voice raspy and deep from her sleep as she continued frowning, her breathing slightly heavy. She pushed herself up from my chest, sitting upright as she faced the wall to my left. As she was running her hands across her face, I placed my hand on her thigh and she jolted causing me to remove my hand again.

"Sorry," I mumbled softly, feeling bad for scaring her and she shook her head again. She ran her hands through her hair before pursing her lips and looking down at me.

"I just get jumpy after a nightmare. It's okay," she gave me a weak smile and I slowly placed my hand back on her bare thigh now that she could see my movements.

"Do you get them often?" I asked cautiously, not knowing if she wanted to talk about it and I didn't want to push her.

She nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap as she picked at her nails, "Yeah, I get them when I don't smoke. That's why I smoke like every night."

"Oh," I let my mouth fall open as I continued to study her face. She had a shameful look behind her eyes as her hands trembled slightly, "Do you wanna talk about it, pretty girl?"

"I don't know how," she said quietly, embarrassment showing through her words and I frowned, shifting so I could sit up more against the headboard.

"You can always try," I answered softly and she pursed her lips, glancing at me slightly before inhaling deeply, "Do you have the same nightmare every night?"

"No but they're all pretty similar," she explained, closing her eyes and I ran my thumb on her thigh to comfort her, "It's always someone I care about dying in one way or another. It used to always be my mom and my sister."

"Who was it now?" I asked cautiously and she pursed her lips again before opening her eyes.

"You," she answered quietly, looking over at me with a worried look in her eye and my face softened. I ran my hand up and down her thigh as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously, "I've never had a nightmare like that about anyone but my mom or sister."

"I'm sorry," I shifted up further and she sighed, leaning her head back on her shoulders.

"It's not your fault," she whispered, closing her eyes as she took another deep breath, "I just hate having them."

"Do you wanna tell me what it was about? It might help getting it out," I suggested carefully and she lifted her head, glancing at me again before she nodded. She leaned down placing her head back on my chest as she wrapped her arms around my torso again and I wrapped my arms around her back.

"It's not the same every time but this one I haven't had before. Not just because you were in it but the situation was different," she explained quietly as I continued to run my hand along her back, "We were on a cliff and you were hanging over the edge holding onto my wrist but I couldn't grab you or pull you up. I just had to watch your hand slip away from my wrist and fall."

I let out a heavy breath, imagining myself in her shoes in the nightmare and my heart broke for her as I whispered, "That sounds awful."

"I just hate those nightmares because I feel so fucking helpless," she mumbled, pulling herself closer to me and I sighed, laying my head on top of hers before I kissed her hair gently.

"It's just a nightmare, pretty girl," I answered softly and she hummed in response.

"I don't wanna go to school," she sighed, her body finally relaxing into mine as I traced my thumb along her thigh in circles.

"We don't have to go," I mumbled against her hair and she turned her head to look up at me with a deadpan face.

"I'm not making you miss classes and you have to take Nick and Chris," she stated plainly and I scrunched my nose, not thinking about that previously.

"I'll get Nate to pick them up," I shrugged, not wanting to leave her at her house alone.

"You're not missing out on school because of me," she deadpanned once again and I smiled down at her.

"I have a high enough grade," I shrugged once again and she rolled her eyes, pushing away from me behind sliding the covers off of her body and standing up.

"We're going to school. Get up," she spun around with her hands on her hips, a serious look still on her face making me giggle.

"Yes, Mom," I rolled my eyes, sliding the covers off of my body before swinging my legs out of the bed as she stood between them.

"That's mommy to you," she tapped my chin and I let my jaw drop, the unexpected comment catching me off guard before she giggled, leaning her hands on my shoulders, "Come on, that was funny."

"It was hot," I smirked up at her, causing her to roll her eyes before looking down at me again with a smile. I pursed my lips, looking up at her with doe eyes.

"We're not getting into more of your sick and twisted kinks right now. Get your ass up," she ruffled my hair, trekking across the room to where she threw her pants on the floor last night.

"Yes, mommy," I mumbled jokingly, pursing my lips to hide my shit-eating grin as she spun around in surprise. I let out a snicker before she threw a shirt at my face, covering my vision for a moment before I pulled it off of my head to see her sliding her jeans on.

"You're the worst," she mumbled, a smile on her lips as she shook her head, zipping up her jeans before turning around to look at me again. I stood up, waltzing over to her before I grabbed her belt loops, pulling her towards me.

"You're cute," I mumbled, leaning down and placing my lips on hers gently. She smiled against my mouth before she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, brushing her fingers on the nape of my neck as I shivered from her touch. I let go of her belt loops, reaching my hands around to grab her ass roughly making her gasp.

I used that as an opportunity to slide my tongue between her lips, exploring her mouth slowly as she hummed against me. I pulled her towards me further as she tangled her hands in my hair, tugging on his slightly and I felt heat travel towards my dick when she did so.

"Babe," she mumbled against my mouth before she pulled away and I subconsciously followed her head back. She giggled at my attempt to kiss her again but tugged on my hair to hold my head back lightly, "Chill out."

"Sorry," I mumbled, opening my eyes to smirk down at her as she let go of my hair, "I just really wanna kiss you."

"How about for every piece of clothing you put on you get a little kiss?" she smiled up at me and I immediately nodded my head, sliding out of my pyjama pants and boxers before slipping on a fresh pair of underwear, “You’re not gonna shower?”

“I had one last night. Now give me,” I leaned my head forward with my lips puckered and she rolled her eyes dramatically before pecking her lips against my own.

“Next,” she demanded and I followed her orders as if I were a dog in training. I slid a pair of clean blue jeans on before puckering my lips again. We continued the cycle as I put each item of clothing on and each time she rolled her eyes before sticking true to her word.

Socks, kiss. Black wife-beater, kiss. Black shirt, kiss. Grey hoodie, kiss. Shoes, kiss. Jacket, kiss.

Amongst my neediness for her affection, she had also changed out of my black hoodie into a pink crewneck I forgot I even owned. I liked watching her as I sat on the edge of my bed as she familiarised herself with my bedroom. Shuffling through my closet to find a clothing item she liked, using my spray deodorant from my desk and spraying my cologne on the crewneck without asking.

I liked seeing her make herself at home, not bothering to ask because she already knew I wouldn’t dare say no to her. She trotted over to her bag, pulling out a few items that were small cylinders.

“What’s that?” I asked, intrigued as she walked over to the mirror before grabbing a tissue and a bottle of water that barely had anything in it. She dumped the small bit of water into the tissue as she spoke.

“Eyeliner and mascara,” she explained before using the now damp tissue to wipe around her eyes as the excess makeup that was smudged.

I hopped up from the bed and waltzed over to her, standing behind her in the body-length mirror as I peered over her, “Can I see?”

“See what?” she asked before throwing the tissue in the small trash can I kept beside my desk.

“The makeup. I wanna know how you put it on,” I shrugged and she looked at me in the reflection of the mirror with a smile.

“Uh, okay. Well, the eyeliner goes on your waterline and on your eyelids. Hence the name eyeliner,” she explained, holding up the small black pencil and I nodded as I listened.

“What does it do?” I asked dumbly and she smiled at me as I moved to stand beside the mirror to look at her while she clicked off the small lid on the pencil.

“It just makes your eyes look more intense,” she shrugged, taking the pencil and running it along the space where her eyelashes met her skin. I cringed as I watched, nervous that she was so close to her eye with a pencil.

“Is that not uncomfortable?” I asked, slight worry in my tone as she blinked a few times. It was only then that I noticed a direct difference in the shape of her eyes, the one without eyeliner around it seeming slightly bigger.

“You don’t feel it once it’s on,” she explained, glancing at me briefly as I studied her actions. She quickly smudged eyeliner on the other eye before leaning back to inspect her work.

“What’s the purpose of mascara?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest as I was genuinely intrigued. She clicked the cap of the eyeliner back on before switching to what I assumed was the mascara.

“To make your eyelashes look longer,” she shrugged, pulling at the small contraption from its bottle and I frowned. The spikes on the end of the stick looked alarming.

“I can’t believe you’re putting this shit near your eyes. I'd end up making myself blind,” I raised my eyebrows and she giggled as she coated the black liquid on her eyelashes.

“I can’t believe you’re this interested in makeup,” she mumbled, focusing on the mascara she was smearing on still.

“Only because you’re doing it,” I answered honestly and she leaned back from the mirror before screwing the lid back onto the mascara bottle, “I wanna know about everything you do.”

She tilted her head to the side as she looked at me, a sweet smile covering her lips before she leaned forward. She quickly kissed my lips, not letting it linger too long probably to not entice me to keep her home again.

“How are you so sweet?” she asked quietly, leaning her forehead against my own briefly before pulling away from me.

“Ate a lot of sugar as a kid,” I joked, a half-smile on my lips as I shrugged and she let out a chortle at my attempt at humour.

“It’s all adding up,” she raised her eyebrows before spinning on her toes and walking back towards her bag. I let my eyes scan her body, watching the way her hips swung and her hair flowed down her back.

"Are you sure we can't stay here?" I whined and she laughed to herself before turning back around to give me a scolding look.

"We're going," she stated blandly making me groan before I walked over to her, pulling her to me by her wrist before I pressed my lips against hers quickly. She smiled against me, reaching her hand up behind my neck to play with the hair at the nape of my neck again.

Suddenly, there was a knock at my bedroom door and I pulled away from her reluctantly. I unlocked the door and swung it open to see my mother standing in the hall with a smile.

"Good morning," she said tiredly and I smiled back at her before giving her a side hug.

"Morning, Mom," I answered quietly before Layla appeared behind me in the doorway, giving my mom a small smile and wave.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" she asked Layla and I turned around to see Layla nod gently as I pulled away from my mom.

"Definitely. Thank you for letting me stay again," she quickly answered, a small smile still on her lips.

"That's good. I'm off to work now. See you when I get home," she quickly leaned up, pressing a kiss to my cheek before waving back at us and travelling down the stairs again.

"You're mom's so cute," she smiled at me and I rolled my eyes with a smile before she leaned up to kiss my cheek.

"You're cuter," I answered with a smirk and she rolled her eyes, pushing me away from her by my shoulder.

"Shut up," she said half-heartedly and I chuckled while she picked up her bag as I followed suit.

+++

“No Mia?” Chris asked as he sat down at our usual table in the cafeteria, this time next to Allie who was sitting on the right side of Layla as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

“I haven’t seen her today,” Allie shrugged half-heartedly and my eyebrows furrowed. I could tell everyone was still tense from Mia’s actions yesterday but I didn’t want to let it bother me.

“Have you picked out a dress for prom yet?” Layla asked Allie, averting the topic away from Mia which I silently thanked her for.

“Yeah! Do you wanna see?” she asked, pulling her phone out from under her thigh on the seat. Layla nodded and Allie excitedly unlocked her phone, browsing through her Snapchat memories before she turned her phone away from Chris, "You can't look."

"What? Why not?" Chris asked, slightly offended at her actions as he crossed his arms and leaned them on the table in front of him.

"Because it's a surprise. You too, Matt," she called me out and I furrowed my eyebrows, my reaction similar to Chris's. Suddenly, Layla placed her hand over my eyes.

"Quick, show me while he's not looking," she whispered to Allie and I rolled my head back, trying to peek under her hand but she pressed it closer to my eyes, "Oh, that's really cute."

"Right? I feel like the colour will match with my hair really well," Allie responded and I could hear the excitement in her voice before Layla pulled her hand away from my face and I blinked my eyes open. Allie was now doing something else on her phone.

"Have you bought it yet?" Layla asked as Allie locked her phone, shaking her head.

"I put it on hold. I'm hopefully going today after school to buy it," Allie explained and Layla nodded, leaning her head on my shoulder lazily.

"Maybe I should go with you. I still need to find a dress," Layla stated casually and Allie's eyes widened in excitement as her eyebrows shot up.

"Does that mean you'll go with us?" Allie asked, joy radiating off of her and I smirked at her excitement before I glanced at Chris who was smiling at Allie.

"Yeah. I'll have to find a cheap dress or just make my own but I'll go," Layla shrugged and Allie squealed in excitement, clapping her hands together rapidly as she wiggled in her seat.

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. We have so much to plan. It's only like three weeks away," Allie rambled, whipping her phone out again making Layla giggle, "Do you still want a black dress?"

"Please don't tell me you changed your mind. I already got a black suit and shirt," Nate deadpanned, speaking for the first time since he sat down catching our attention and Layla chuckled.

"I still want a black dress, Nate. Calm down," she smiled at him and he let out a breath of relief, dropping his forehead to the table tiredly.

"Something like this?" Allie asked, showing her phone to Layla and Layla looked at the black sparkly dress with a nod before she tensed.

"Is there any chance we can find something like that for like a quarter of the price?" Layla asked hesitantly, her tone uneasy at the conversation involving money and I wrapped my arm around her tighter.

"I'll help you pay for it," I told her quietly and she looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"I can pay for it myself," she answered shortly and I raised my eyebrows, her slightly aggressive tone catching me off guard.

"I know you can. I just wanna help if you find one that's more expensive that you really like," I explained and she furrowed her eyebrows further, pulling away from me slightly. I let my face drop as she pulled away from me, unsure of how I upset her but I didn't want to bring it up in front of everyone.

"This one is a bit cheaper and kinda the same style," Allie suggested, showing Layla another photo of a dress and Layla pursed her lips, nodding her head.

"It's okay. I'll have a look later," Layla responded to her, her tone slightly short but kept up a polite front as she tried to subtly get Allie to stop.

"We can always just look at the mall," Allie suggested and Layla nodded again, her body tense as she leaned forward to place her elbows on the table. My arm fell from her shoulders to her lower back, "You coming to the game tomorrow?"

"I have to. Can't break our spoken agreement," Layla responded, not sounding excited in the slightest.

"Spoken agreement?" Nate asked, catching everyone's attention again.

"I said if I went to his last four games then he would get another piercing with me," Layla explained and Nate raised his eyebrows, an upside-down smile appearing on his lips.

"What one?" Nick asked, half-asleep on his hand that was holding his head up.

"It's a surprise," I spoke before Layla could and Nick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. I leaned forward, placing my elbow on the table before I placed my chin on my hand, sliding closer to Layla but she tensed when I did so. I pursed my lips, letting my arm fall from her back as I placed it on my thighs awkwardly.

"Nate," Allie said in a sing-song voice causing him to lift his head from the table, "Do you wanna take me and Layla to the mall after school?"

"Really?" he deadpanned and Allie smiled at him widely, nodding her head.

"Please," she begged, holding her hands together in front of her as Nate just stared at her.

"I can take you," I offered and Allie turned to look at me as Layla still looked ahead.

"You have to take Nick and Chris home. It will be easier if Nate does," Layla retorted, not bothering to look at me and my eyebrows furrowed at her sudden coldness. I felt my heart sink, feeling her walls being built up again and I let out a heavy breath, trying to not let it show that I was confused.

"Uh, yeah. I can drop you guys off," Nate said awkwardly, noticing the sudden tension in the group and I saw Layla's mouth curl into a half-hearted smile. I let my eyes drop to the table, wracking my brain for what could've upset her.

I knew she didn't like other people paying for things but I didn't know why my offering to help would upset her so much. I let my thoughts wander through my head as the rest of lunch passed, staring off into space as the conversation continued that I was paying no mind to. Soon enough, the bell rang and Layla exited the cafeteria without another word to me.

tags:

@ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @dsturniolo @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219 @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Hello! for the cuddle ask meme, may I request ##16 with Vaxleth in universe of your choice❔

16. needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do lmao i had to scroll back for this one bc i did not know what you were talking about lol. think i'm gonna make this one mfl!

turned my water into wine #7

As Vax beats the familiar path through the catacombs, he sees up ahead a thin sliver of warm light. It takes him a few moments to realize that that light is coming from where the secret door to Keyleth's chamber is, and if he is able to see said light, then the door must be open.

His heart catches in his throat as he breaks into a run, dagger instantly in hand. Why is the door open? Did someone else open it, or trick her into doing it herself? Was she forced to flee, now lost somewhere among these twisting tunnels? It takes mere seconds for him to reach the steps up to her chamber, and fewer for him to work himself into a panic.

When he has reached the door, just barely cracked open, he pauses, listening. He does not hear any sounds of distress or struggle. Gently, he pushes it open further with his dagger hand. "Kiki?" he whispers, poking his head inside.

He finds her immediately, legs tucked up beside her on the settee in front of the fire, a pile of papers in her lap. She twists her head to look back at him. "There you are!" She's smiling the smile she always gives him, like he didn't just envision opening the door to find her bloodied, lifeless corpse.

He slips inside, closing the door silently behind him. "I...why was this open?"

"Oh, right." She waves a dismissive hand as she turns back to her papers. "I didn't want to have to get up to let you in. I've got mountains of reading to finish before tomorrow's meeting."

Reading. All this dread, these skipping heartbeats, because she was reading. He returns the dagger to his belt and crosses over to sit beside her. "You know, I thought something had happened to you."

She lets out a noncommittal hum, clearly not listening. "No, I'm fine."

So it's to be one of these nights. There are many risks to a secret dalliance with a princess—his own untimely death, for example—but one of the risks he had not considered was her annoying, steadfast devotion to her people. She is so wonderfully, irritatingly determined to be the best princess, and then best sovereign, that she can possibly be for her country, and Vax, who is so very cold and so very in need of her attention, must pay the price of her dedication.

"How long have you been reading?" he asks. He knows she started well before Kynan came to relieve him for the night.

"Oh I don't know." Without looking, she picks up a quill from the small table just beside her and jots a note in the margins.

With a sigh, Vax toes off his boots and shuffles closer to her, hooking his chin over her shoulder to peer down at the text. "Seems awfully boring."

She pinches his side. "It's not. The Pyran delegation will be here tomorrow, and if I don't know what I'm talking about when they start asking questions about funding for repairs, I'll be laughed out of the room." Now it's her turn to sigh. "Alright, yes, it is completely boring, but it's important."

He slides one arm across her torso and the other around her shoulder to encase her in a hug. "Sounds like you need a break." He nuzzles his nose into her neck.

She wrinkles her nose and laughs. "You are a pest."

"And you are warm, Your Highness," he purrs into her skin.

Keyleth sighs again, and Vax can feel her warring with herself. "I just...I have so much to read..."

"Five minutes? And then I shall be on my best behavior."

She chews her lip, then murmurs, "Five minutes."

With a victorious grin, he plucks the papers from her lap, ignoring her gasp of protest, and sets them atop the side table. Then he gently pulls her down to curl up on the settee with him, her back to his chest, his arms still around her. The fire crackles invitingly before them, and she hums. "Oh, this is dangerous."

He presses his face into her shoulder—oh, how frozen his nose has been this entire winter! "Dangerous?"

"I could fall asleep right here."

"Mm, don't threaten me with a good time."

She laughs again, and it is his favorite sound in this wide, wild world. "You are a pest," she repeats, craning her head around to grin at him.

He picks his head up to press his lips to hers. "Ah, but could a pest do that?"

"Yes, it is what makes you so very annoying." But she twists in his arms all the same to face him, and it takes far more than five minutes for her to return to her reading.

[niskoo]

Burrito run

pairing: rich kid! Jake x rich kid! reader

genre: fluff, crack, bff2l! AU

warnings: food, swearing, sneaking out (??)

word count: 3k words

a/n: my dumbass posted this on my nct acc omfg

this was originally for haechan of nct for my nct acc (@daegall) but i thought i could treat you guys to hehe

networks: @enhypennetwork

You had known Jake for more than half of your lives. Thanks to both of your rich ass parents setting you two up for a playdate at the age of 12, now you have found your rock and partner in crime. You know when he's feeling down, when he wants to cause trouble for no reason, when he has an eye for someone, heck, you know when and how to get him out of any situation when needed.

Like right now, as he gives you a side glance as he talks boringly to a group of men. All they talked about was business. Jake wanted to talk about that one burrito place down the block, he wants to get out of there and go get some. He wants to get out of this stupid high class party he has no part of.

He knows you do too, he knows by the way you keep glancing at the back door by the kitchen, and how you occasionally move to each group closer to the door. You know he catches up to the plan, how he also moves from group to group, excusing himself every 2 minutes.

You politely excuse yourself from the many unknown rich aunts who just questioned your love life, giving them a very passive smile, before turning to move to another group.

You don't get to go to another group, because you're already so close to the door, and Jake approaches you.

"Why, hello there, miss Y/n."

You feign shock at his greeting, holding a hand to your chest, "My, Jaeyun, wasn't it? It's been too long!"

Your best friend nods, playing along to the small skit you two have created, "About 2 hours, I think? You've grown very beautifully,"

You flick your hand at him, nudging his shoulder not-so-gently, "Oh stop."

You bite your lip to hold back a loud laugh when Jake winces at your harsh push at his shoulder, watching as his face twists in playful anger. You can't help but thin he looks absolutely adorable, nose scrunched up and eyes narrowed in a non meaningful glare, you ought to kiss his puffed cheeks.

You shake the last thought from your mind, bringing the elegant glass of champagne to your lips, sipping lightly at the sweet and slightly sour liquid. You then take a double check around the spacious room, to see if anyone is watching.

Your mother and father were chatting at the far corner with the parents of Jay, a guy you met earlier this evening. He looked just as bored as you. Jake's parents stood not too far from your parents, greeting anyone who approached them.

This was your chance.

Quickly, as Jake was mumbling something about you growing up strongly as well, you grab his arm. He yelps in surprise, as you drag him through the back door, lightly blushing at your gentle touch at his wrist.

The back door soon slams behind the both of you, and you are met with a large yard.

"Y/n! What if someone caught us?"

Giving Jake a side glare, you start to trudge down the flight of stairs to the garden, "You were too busy complaining about my guns to notice we had a chance to escape. You're welcome."

"You're weak!"

"Am not!"

"Are to!"

You ignore the upcoming argument you could've started, taking off your painful heels. They were absolutely stunning, but stung your feet constantly. Beauty is pain, as mother says.

"Lead the way to the burrito truck you claimed to see on the way here!"

Through the many bushes, and many guards, and even more bushes, you finally make it out the the big mansion, and into the dark streets. It's 10 in the night, you hope the burrito place is still open or your only choice left is a McDonalds about an hour away or convenience store food. Not that you minded, but you haven't had a burrito since you were 18. You had it right after graduation day with one of your closes friends who you have no idea of her whereabouts now.

The last time Jake had a burrito is about last week, the first time he met another rich kid named Sunghoon. Their parents gave them a bunch of money to go spend on expensive and top quality foods, but they both mutually agreed to get cheap burritos that would probably give them a bad stomach.

Jake takes the lead, as expected, for he was the one who spotted the food truck. He took off his blazer some time ago, you don't remember when, but with his jacket thrown over his elbow and sleeves rolled up like that, you can't help but admire.

You notice every single little thing about him, his slow, rhythmic paces, occasionally kicking stray rocks on the sidewalk. You watch as his hair slightly bounces as he kicks yet another rock, and you want to pet his hair.

There was that one time when you were 16 and you had a movie night as your parents went away for some business, he had his head on your lap, you didn't mind for some reason. At some point you had started playing lightly with a few strands of his hair, but you didn't notice. The moment you softly ran your hands through his hair, you realized, and decided to keep your hands to yourself after that. To your surprise he protested against it, claiming it was very comforting. So now every time one of you come over to the other's house, you would somehow find yourself playing with his hair, like pure human instinct.

But now as you observed your best friend more, you have a different feeling running through you as you had an urge to softly play with them once more, as if it wasn't as platonic anymore. But that was absurd. you've been friends for 10 years now, why are you just feeling like this now?

Your heart jumps in your chest when you are suddenly met with Jake's eyes, shining brightly with a slight mischievous gloss glazing over them. "Can we pick up the pace please? I'm getting pretty hungry and I know you are too."

Your heart softens as he sticks his arm out, gesturing you to come next to him. You jog barefoot to his side, instantly looping your arm with his.

It doesn't take long to find the food truck Jake mentioned, just a 10 minutes from the mansion, somewhere near the center of town. You had to drive about 2 hours to get here, and so did Jake, so it's a bit strange how he knew his way around the town so easily. You guess he just is that way.

You practically drool at the smell of savory foods that lingers in the air, sucking the saliva in your mouth.

Your best friend eyes you playfully, nudging your hip with his, "See? What did I tell you? Burrito food truck!"

You don't respond, simply grunting and dragging him to the cashier to order some food.

It takes a lot of time to decide on what burrito you'd buy, there were even tacos, and weirdly, cookies and croissants. It was your dream food truck, really. In the end, you both went for the classic burrito, nothing could beat it.

There were no seats to the food truck, sadly, so you and Jake opted to sit on the curb, legs sprawled out on the road, hopefully no cars drive by.

"You ready?" Your best friend asks you, looking at you with much anticipation. You stare at your own burrito in much more anticipation, it's been 4 years since you had a burrito. You wonder how you could survive that long.

You nod vivaciously, already opening your mouth to take a bite. Jake chuckles as he watches you take your first bite, your cheeks instantly puffing out full of the contents. You shut your eyes in bliss, licking your lips for anything left on them.

As you continue to chew, you shake your head, "Shit, I haven't had anything this good in sooo long." You exaggerate, taking yet another bite of the heavenly treat.

Jake can't agree more, he just had a burrito last week, but somehow eating one with you feels different. Especially when you don't mind him seeing and pointing out the smeared food around your mouth, simply trying to search for it with your tongue instead.

Your best friend wants to cherish this moment forever, keep it deep in his heart and laugh at it in the future when he suddenly gets reminded of it, he wants to brag about it to his friends, maybe even share it with his grandchildren, he doesn't know. All he knows is that you're it for him.

You're the one he's spent all of his teenage years with, his first heartbreak, first sleepover, first drink was with you, heck, you were his first close friend!

You know so much about him, you share so much about yourself to him, he's the one you trust. He's the first person you call out to when you're down, first person you call out to in the best of your times. It amazing how much you've been through together, and Jake thinks anything is possible, as long as it's you.

Falling in love seems so much easier than ever, especially at that moment, eating a burrito instead of the expensive caviar at the party before, just with him. And nobody else.

He wants to make you his. Not just his best friend, his lover, his soul mate, his whole world. Not that you weren't already.

"What's wrong?" you suddenly ask Jake, startling him. "You nudge your chin at the burrito in his hands, "Why aren't you eating?"

Jake flushes, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time, taking a big bite of his burrito, before looking away bashfully. "It's nothing."

You grow suspicious of his actions, watching as he swallows and bites his lip shyly. You choose to leave it there, instead bringing up your parents being out of town next week.

The conversation keeps going, from one topic to the other, swerving all over the place, but that's just how it is, talking to the person you're most comfortable with.

The conversation goes on and on until you find yourself walking along the streets blindly, fiddling with the paper packaging of the burrito you ate. You also find yourself wearing Jake's shoes instead of walking barefoot, he gave to you after you complained about walking over so many rocks, and you didn't like how your heart swarmed and beat dangerously fast as he claimed it would be better if you borrowed them for the night.

Strangely enough, his blazer he took off about and hour ago now stayed on your shoulders, keeping you warm from the cold breezes of the night. All your best friend's actions made you swoon over him, and that wasn't something you would feel often. Maybe occasionally, but not everyday.

Jake doesn't know what got into him when he took his shoes off for you, or when he draped his blazer on your shoulders, or why he took your heels and held it for you. What he does know, is that he enjoys the way your lips purse and a light shade of pink dusted over your cheeks. Or how you pull his blazer tighter around your body and sub-consciously loop your arm around his again.

You two never really got to go through the proper high school experience, your parents forced you to go to a strict school with strict rules, they didn't even have celebrations.

Jake always imagines what it would be like to go to a dance, prom, maybe? Full of fun, dancing, and definitely you. You had a similar vision. Chugging down punch or soda and dancing crazily together until you both get sick and throw up in the bathroom.

Prom was like a mutual yearning for the both of you.

God, how you would kill to have a normal high school experience.

"You know," Jake starts, "this feels like I'm walking you home after prom."

You can't stop the grin from reaching your lips, giving into it and letting out a soft laugh. Softly, you elbow his side, "Corny."

There are a few laughs here and there after that, but overall just comforting silence that goes throughout the night. The crickets that echo throughout the night are your only noises, and the few cars rushing by. You two come to a stop at a random bench by a streetlamp, settling there until you realize it's time to go back to the party.

You realize it, but you just don't want to let go of the moment.

You feel Jake hook his leg under yours, swinging them together in sync as you rest and stare into the night sky. Tonight isn't that much of a pretty night, no stars, barely a moon, but that's alright, you're enjoying the most of it.

You turn your head away from the boring black sky, instead facing the mot interesting thing you find in life. Jake is staring down at your swinging legs, smiling at the sight. He fiddles softly with your fingers, caressing and tracing them as if they were one of the most precious things in the world.

Your eyes trail from your tangled legs, to your tangled hands, all the way up to Jake's face, tracing each and every detail with your gaze. You don't remember when he matured, you only remember the fluffy cheeked bowl cut Jake when you two were still middle schoolers. Now all that cheek has become more defined, especially his jaw, you can't help but admire him. He was like a piece of art. Your favorite piece of art.

For the second time that night, you focus on his hair, and ought to run your hands through them once again. To pull him into your embrace as he rests on you, to simply relax and twirl his strands around your fingers.

It seems like whenever you're staring at his hair, Jake just startles you with his eyes, still glossy, but this time they hold something different.

They admire you just as much as yours admire him.

Slowly, as if an unspoken agreement, you lean in closer to his face. His breath close to your cheek sets goosebumps trailing your body, and his touch now on your neck warms you inside.

Your eyes flit between his eyes and lips, oh those plump, soft lips you dream of. You would never admit it, but you have had many urges to crash your own upon them.

And that's exactly what you do. Though, crash isn't the right word to describe it. They press together softly more than recklessly, pulling into a soft lock, something much more than just platonic love being poured into it. Pure bliss and love are being poured like gentle and calm rivers, the ones you find clear and beautiful in parks. It runs faster as Jake tilts your head to kiss you closer, lips wrapped up in the warmth of yours. It feels like home to him.

Jake is absolutely perfect, you decide, despite all the many nights spent together breaking down, left for each other to pick the other up, it makes him perfect.

He thinks you're the most flawless thing he's ever seen, despite all the gems and crystals he sees in most parties, you're the brightest one shining, he could never find any jewel more valuable than you.

You pull away with one last soft lock of your lips, but stay close and ghost them together. You find his eyes the shining the most you have ever seen in the 10 years you have spent with him, one different emotion fluttering behind them. Love.

You surely don't feel that big of a person when you're at these big rich parties, even if everyone knew of your name. But kissing your best friend and being the one he sees, he loves, being his, you feel like you could rule the world.

You know you're his after this. How could you not? The way he breaks out into a very bashful smile when you leave one last peck on his lips, the way he holds you so close. There was no way he couldn't be yours after this.

A week later you have a very sleepy boyfriend on your couch, his head resting on your lap as you play softly with his hair. Nothing is all that different, except for all the kisses he steals when reaching up to you. And of course, the corny lines being thrown at each other as a competition to see who can come up with the cheesiest, most disgusting pick up line ever.

"I want to wrap you in my arms and make you my baerito."

"Ugh Jake that was just straight but bad! Not even funny or cheesy!"

Jake simply laughs, and wraps his arms around you just as he claimed to have wanted to, mumbling how he agreed into your forehead.

Being in his arms, you feel like you could fight everything that would try to hurt your lover, but for now you stick to the playful pokes he gives to your stomach and sides.

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

angsty bechloe for number 11 (“Nobody’s seen you in days.”) please <3

I am never one to say no to angst anon 😉💖

(11) "Nobody's seen you in days." - Bechloe

Beca shifted her feet awkwardly as she listened closely at Chloe's bedroom door. She could hear her snuffling quietly and it broke her heart; it had been a difficult week for all of them, none of them had seen this coming but it had hit Chloe the hardest.

Beca knocked softly, a lump in her throat as she called through the door, "Chloe? Can you let me in? I'm worried about you... nobody's seen you in days."

There was no sound or any indication of movement as Beca listened carefully. After a few minutes, Beca sighed softly and turned around so that her back was to the door, sliding down it until she was sat on the floor, legs crossed.

"Okay, you don't have to talk to me." Beca leant against the door, sniffing a little herself as clasped her hands in her lap, "I don't want to talk about it either really. I'm just gonna sit out here and wait until you're ready to see someone."

Beca looked down at the hands clasped in her lap, chewing on her bottom lip a little. She could still hear Chloe sniffling, her heart clenching as she closed her eyes for a moment. This was all so messed up.

"I miss her too." Beca mumbled, "Like, I know she isn't gone but the way things are looking... I dunno I guess I'm just trying to prepare myself for the worst. Ugh this isn't helping is it?"

Beca shook her head a little, wiping at the tears on her cheeks, "I told Stacie I wasn't the one to try and cheer you up... that just because we're dating doesn't mean I have any idea how to make this better. Because I can't Chlo, I wish I could, I wish I could tell you that she'll be okay, that she'll wake up any day now but I can't..."

Beca paused as she thought she heard Chloe's snuffling getting closer, but when the door remained closed she continued.

"But I can tell you that no matter what happens I'll be right here. Waiting for you, here for whatever you need from me Chloe. It feels like the least I can do for her, it's what she'd want... and more than that, I hate the idea of you dealing with this on your own. Because you're not alone. You have me, you have the Bellas, we're all here for you, for her... I love you Chlo. I just want to help you, somehow, however I can."

The door behind Beca opened slowly, Beca looking up and feeling her heart break all over again. Chloe's face was puffy and red, her eyes bloodshot and with deep bags underneath them. She looked like she hadn't slept since they'd found out. There were tears streaking down her cheeks as Beca pushed herself to her feet and turned around so that she was facing Chloe. There was a pause before Chloe launched herself forward into Beca's arms, sobbing heavily as Beca enveloped her into a tight hug, stroking her hair as she gently guided them back into the room.

"I've got you." Beca whispered into her hair as she kicked the door shut behind them, lowering them both onto the edge of the bed as she felt Chloe's knees start to go from underneath her, "I've got you Chloe. Just let it out."

Chloe was shaking in her arms as tears poured down her own cheeks. Chloe sounded so broken, so grief stricken, so pain filled, and that broke Beca's heart. She hated seeing her like this.

"Sh-she can't die Becs." Chloe choked out, her voice hoarse from days of crying, "I- I can't l-lose her like this."

"I know." Beca pressed a kiss into the crown of her head, "Me neither Chlo. It's doesn't make any sense."

"Sh-she was coming to see me." Chloe shook her head furiously as Beca held her tighter still, "This is my f-fault."

"No." Beca frowned deeply, lifting Chloe's head with a gentle hand under her chin, "Chloe this is not your fault, it was a terrible accident. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself for this."

Chloe's eyes were dull and filled with tears as she bit her lip, "She's always been there for me Becs..." She whispered, Beca's hand running through her hair as she stroked her cheek with her thumb, "I-if Aubrey dies then what am I supposed to do?"

Beca pursed her lips as the thought of a world without Aubrey Posen threatened to overwhelm her. Sure, she had been a pain in her ass for the first year that Beca had known her, but now nobody had her corner quite like Aubrey did. They'd be so lost if she didn't make it.

"We'll figure that out if and when we get to that point." Beca's voice was thick, "Do you want to go and see her? Maybe you'd feel a little better if you could hold her hand for a bit?"

"I don't know..." Chloe let her head fall onto Beca's shoulder, "I don't know if I'm ready to see her like that..."

Beca said nothing for a moment as she continued to stroke Chloe's hair, a slow and steady rhythm as she heard Chloe's sobs begin to ease a little. Chloe had buried her face in her neck, arms wrapped around Beca's waist tightly, not wanting Beca to leave her side right now.

"What if I went with you?" Beca offered. She didn't want to see Aubrey like that either, but if it's what Chloe needed then she would do it.

Chloe seemed to mull the idea over before nodding softly, "Yeah... okay. You'd be there the whole time?"

"Of course." Beca nodded, "Always Chlo."

"Can- can we walk to the hospital?" Chloe whispered in the smallest voice, "It's not that far and- the idea of you getting a car right now... I can't lose you too."

"Yeah, it's okay." Beca reassured her, kissing her temple, "I get it. It's a nice day for a walk anyway."

Sentence Starters

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hey hey!!

I pretty sure you know what I'm here for, so I'll give two options, that way there is no pressure and you can choose whichever you feel in the mood for!!

Soft Micah, where he's drunk and feeling insecure and tells the reader why he loves them and how much they mean to him, ending with the reader being the big spoon and cuddling the rat man as he cries himself to sleep.

OR

Soft Sadie, where she confides in the reader about when she first joined the gang, how she felt when her husband was murdered, and how she never thought she'd find love again until she met the reader.

No pressure to do either! I will leave it in your talented and capable hands.

Don't forget how amazing you are and how much joy you bring with your writing.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

sksksks you know i'm gonna do both bc i love both these asks and soft clingy micah is my literal favourite. this is a total unedited mess but its my total unedited mess and i'm just the biggest sucker for making him all mushy so pls enjoy whatever the hell this is <3333.

(ill do the sadie ask in a different post and put the link here!)

----------------------------

Today was particularly strange, not because anything extraordinary happened but because your sweetheart, Micah, was nowhere to be seen.

Sure he had a tendency to run off on jobs and you couldn’t spend all hours of the day together but it was unlike him to leave you to wake up alone in your shared tent.

All day he’d avoided you. Normally you’d get a coffee and slowly wake up together, planning out your day which usually involved planning your next job together but Micah was no where to be found when you woke up with nothing but blankets around you.

He wasn’t loitering around the outskirts of camp, nor was he by the campfire cleaning his weapons. It was if he well and truly disappeared, but you knew who Micah was and you knew if he didn’t want to be found he wouldn’t be.

With that you left your search, busying yourself with chores and helping around camp and knowing that Micah would make his appearance when he wanted to be found. It was merely a matter of time, nothing more.

-

The first thing you noticed when you were returning to camp from doing a late night run into town for ammunition was that Baylock had been hitched with the other horses, something that wasn’t there this morning.

Your eyes scanned around camp, noticing instantly that the flaps to your tent were pulled shut which only happened when either of you were in there. You placed down the crate of ammo you were carrying, dusting your hands before walking over and slowly opening the flaps to let yourself inside.

The first thing you noticed was Micah sitting up abruptly with that sounded like a sniffle. He shuffled around, clearly trying to make himself presentable. Slowly, you held your hands out to him, clearly reading the almost heavy feeling to the room.

“Hey now… been looking for you, where’d you go?”

You sit down beside him, keeping your voice soft as if you were calming a spooked horse. You notice amongst the pillows and blankets the empty bottles of whiskey and his green neckerchief which was stained with his tears.

“Oh Mikes, c'mere…”

You wrap your arms around him, hearing a choked sob slip from him as you run your hands through his stringy hair. Your other hand slips under his disheveled and unbuttoned shirt to rub slow circles along his back as he cried into your neck.

Sobs and little whimpers leave him as you hold him, littering soft kisses in his hair and shushing him as best you could.

“It’s alright Micah... I’ve got you now.”

You pull him back slightly, holding his face in your hands as your thumb wiped away his tears that kept falling from his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, just let it out sweetheart— I’m here.”

You watched as his bottom lip quivered and other rush of sobs fell from his mouth. He buried his face back into your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you as if you’d ever let him go.

“You should go somewhere...anywhere but here— don’t know why you put up with an ugly old sod like me. Yer too good for me— deserve someone better— don’t waste yer time with me.”

Micah’s voice cracked at least twice, his words broken up with sobs and cries as he spilled out exactly what had been bothering him all day.

Your heart broke when you heard him, wrapping your arms around his back as you held him flushed against you.

“Hey hey don’t you say that, you are enough for me okay? I love you and there’s no one I love more in this world than I do you.”

Micah shakes his head, burying his face in your shoulder even further as tears soak your shirt.

“Look at me Micah…”

Slowly and reluctantly he pulls away, resting his elbows on either side of your legs as he still attempts to hide in your chest. You brush the hair from his temples that had been stuck down by streaks of tears, gently tucking his hair behind his ears as you waited for him to look at you.

“I want you to know that you’re not a waste of time… every day I get to spend with you makes me happy— you make me happy Micah.”

The look Micah gives you is one of pure hope and adoration. His crisp blue eyes are wide as you speak, the colour deepened from all the redness surrounding them. More stray tears fall from the corners of his eyes although they’re much softer now, his sobbing slowing to something more tame as he listens to your soothing voice.

You lean down, placing a gentle kiss to his lips and you note how he’s obviously chewed at his bottom lip sometime today. Micah practically melts into you, clearly in his softer clingy mood which always followed him whenever he got emotional and insecure.

Sitting up, you trace the scar on his chin as he leans into your hand like a scared little cat caught in the rain.

“And you’re certainly not ugly.”

Micah instantly shakes his head, sitting up and trying to pull himself out of your embrace but you don’t let him get far. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his tummy, resting your head over his shoulder as you watch him intertwine your hands together.

You kiss his cheek, leaning your head against his as you cuddle him.

“Yes you are— you’re my pretty boy, my sweetheart, my Mikey.”

You can hear him smile although he tries to hide it under his hair that’s flopped in front of his face that also served to hide the blush he had.

For a while you sit together just like that. Micah aimlessly fiddles with your fingers in his lap while you watch from over his shoulder, occasionally leaning down and pressing kisses all over his neck and shoulder.

“Love you too ya’know…ya always know the right things to say and ya always know how to make me feel loved. I’m real lucky to have you— even when I don’t deserve you, I’m a real lucky man indeed.”

Micah practically fidgets with your hands through his whole little confession and you squeeze them to reassure him, something he happily returns with desperate squeezes of his own.

“I love you more than you could kno—“

A yawn cuts through Micah’s words, his exhaustion (and whiskey) finally catching up to him as he leans into your hold. The sound makes you giggle, his yawn always making you smile at just how adorable it was no matter how badly he denied it.

“Common sleepyhead, bet you’re real tired.”

Again he looks at you with those wide hopeful eyes, although this time they’re much more sleepy as you roll him to lie down with you. You shuffled the empty bottles to the corner of the tent, placing his neckerchief beside his hat so the two of you had more room.

“You’ll stay?”

You smile, giving him a soft kiss before draping the blanket over the two of your and spooning up behind him. Usually he’d protest at being the little spoon but not today. Now Micah is nothing short of exhausted and you knew, without him having to say it, that he just needs to be cuddled and littered with affection.

“Course I am, won’t find me anywhere else but right here with you.”

You kiss the back of Micah’s neck before burying your face into his shoulder blades. Your hands ran soothing circles over his tummy and chest, waiting and feeling his breath even out. You didn’t move until you heard his soft snoring, finally allowing yourself to fall asleep too with a smile on your face and your arms wraps protectively around Micah.

Eventually, at some point in the night Micah had rolled to tuck his head in your neck and you woke with a large amount of dribble stuck to your shirt (something that made Micah go the colour of a tomato) but you didn’t mind a bit as long as he knew just how much you loved him.

[ttttaehyungie]

an exercise in restraint | jjk x reader

an exercise in restraint | jeon jungkook x reader

genre | established relationship, smut, pwp

summary | Wandering hands need to be trained with self-restraint.

rating | 18+

word count | 3.7k words

warnings | subby jk, vvv slight exhibitionism (inappropriate touching in public places), no touching rule, nipple play, oral fixation, cum eating, jealousy/insecurity but they talk it out bcos we love healthy communication ✌🏻

a/n | that blonde jk selfie made me do it

When she walks into the apartment ahead of him wordlessly, he gulps. He’s in trouble.

It's not anger that emanates off her. It's not the brooding kind of silence that’s filling the atmosphere as she ignores him.

No. The aura that radiates off her is unmistakable.

It's domineering.

He calls her name, voice edged with the slightest hint of worry, but she pays him no response. In the emptiness of the silence, he has no clue what thoughts exactly her head is filled with. Trembling, he tries again, "I'm sorry."

She halts. Purposeful steps come to a stop. They're standing before his bedroom door and despite the obvious familiarity of the physical space before him, he shivers at the uncertainty that lies ahead. "Are you now?" she asks, her voice clear and unwavering. Her words grip him.

Without waiting for his response, she pushes the door open and enters the room like she owns it. She may as well have. It certainly feels like she owns him.

Standing in the center of the room, she finally turns to face him. Her expression is neutral, but her gaze is firm and pins him in place where he hesitates in the doorway.

"Come here." At her word, he obeys. He stands before her, toes scrunching against the stiffness of the hardwood floor beneath him. Despite his height advantage over her, he feels infinitely smaller, his head bowed in admonishment. "What are you sorry for?"

He chews on his lip. Shame fills him.

With a hand on his chin, she directs his gaze away from the floor to meet hers. She prompts him with a simple but expectant, "Hm?"

"I'm sor- I'm sorry for, for getting jealous," he mumbles, averting his eyes.

"Look at me." His eyes dart back to hers. But this time he finds gentleness in her gaze. "There's nothing wrong with being jealous, Jungkook. Although I wish you would have talked to me about it instead of bottling it up to yourself. It's been, what, two weeks now since I made that comment about him."

Just as the sensation of release that accompanies relief blooms in his chest as he thinks he's off the hook, her gaze hardens again as she continues, “But what is not okay is your inappropriate touches in the middle of our dinner with Namjoon."

Something within Jungkook tightens at the sound of his name. Whatever shame that had previously filled him was now singed into nothing by the flare of jealousy that bursts within him.

Tonight was not the first time the three of them had dined together. As her best friend of over a decade now, Namjoon came over to hang out together frequently enough that Jungkook was beginning to consider him his own friend. Namjoon was cool – dorky enough to be relatable, yet composed with a certain air of sophistication brought by his intellect such that he easily commanded Jungkook's respect. And Jungkook had walked into his current relationship with his eyes wide open. He'd known about the close friendship his girlfriend shared with Namjoon and didn't want to be the jealous boyfriend who broke precious friendships apart. And he had been doing well, had been genuinely chill about it.

Well, he had been, up until that little comment from two weeks ago.

It was a lighthearted remark, just an offhand comment. Mindlessly scrolling through her Facebook feed on that lazy Saturday afternoon, she came across an engagement announcement by two of her friends. The comments were filled with people gushing over how perfect their story was, being childhood best friends and all. She laughed and rolled her eyes at that. "It's all so romanticized. But what's so romantic about knowing someone before their puberty glow up? Hell, maybe we should ask Namjoon what he saw in pubescent me!"

His ears perked up at that. "What?"

"Oh, yeah, Namjoon confessed to me once when we were, like, fourteen? Can you believe it? The upper limit to my fashion sense back then was my scruffy jeans and bright magenta jacket!”

Gentle fingers pry his own out of the tight fist they had clenched themselves into, simultaneously prying him out of his reverie and back to the present. Sliding her hand into his, she frowns at him. “If you were jealous, you should have just talked to me about it.”

“But it’s so silly,” he said, immediately prompting her to shake her head.

“Your emotions are not silly, Kook,” she said. “It’s my fault, my blind spot that I didn’t expect it, and I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure about our relationship.”

Lowering his head to rest on her shoulder, he pouts as he hides his face in the warm comfort found in the crook of her neck.

“Whatever happened back then is in the past. I rejected him because I felt we were better as just friends, and it took him some time, but ultimately he agreed. And I swear, that was the one and only time. We’ve been nothing more than best friends after that,” she continues, and the words roll over him in waves of reassurance that synchronize with the slow strokes of her thumb over his knuckles. “I’m yours, and yours only, Kook.”

His free hand slides up to grip at her waist possessively. “Mine?” he asks.

“Yours,” she promises. The tight feeling in his chest begins to loosen itself. Things will be okay. They’ll work through this.

Smiling at him, she speaks again, her voice laced with mirth this time, “But what shall we do about your misbehavior tonight?”

He hadn’t been able to help himself. The worries that he left unaddressed in his refusal to talk about his jealous emotions resulted in an unpleasant dread making its home in the pit of his stomach, displacing his appetite as he sat in the cushioned bench of the restaurant. As he watched his girlfriend respond to Namjoon’s jokes with the carefree laughter that Jungkook so adored, he felt the jealousy rise in his chest, fill him, and he left his dinner half-eaten and abandoned to go cold on its plate.

The gnawing thought that she was slipping out of his hands spurred his next actions. As if needing to hold her back to him, he placed a hand on her thigh. And when she shivered at his touch – throwing him a quick questioning glance, but nothing more – her reaction further fueled him. The inane need to stake a claim on her, to remind her of whose she was, began to overtake him, and his hand slowly but steadily slid higher and higher. Watching his tattooed knuckles slither up the smooth skin of her exposed thigh was a welcome distraction from the ongoing conversation. With their legs tucked under the table, Namjoon was none the wiser from where he sat across from them. And with their table in the corner of the dimly lit room, they were adequately concealed from the danger of any wandering eyes of the other diners. Still, it all felt so illicit, but also oh so thrilling. Curiosity at just how far he could take things clouded his senses and he ignored the way she shoved his hand down when they brushed the edge of her short skirt. His hand crept up again, and this time it got to the hem of her panties and traced along the elastic. Just as he angled his hand to stroke a lone finger up where he knows her slit is, her thighs clamped shut. Under the table, she swiftly pulled his hand away before she gave his thigh a meaningful pinch.

“Sorry Namjoon,” she said, with a saccharine sweet smile on her face. But Jungkook knew better. “I think Jungkook’s had a long day. Do you mind if we head off first?”

Back in the bedroom, she steps away from him, and he whines at the loss of contact. But when she tuts at him, he falls quiet.

“My naughty boy,” she scolds, voice light but firm. “Being so dirty and trying to touch me in public. I think I need to teach you a lesson in restraint today.” Her hand runs gently down his chest and he suppresses a shiver. “Will you be good for me, Koo?” At the sound of his pet name, the name she only ever evokes in times like this, he immediately nods. She smirks. “Sit on the bed.”

He’s quick to obey, sitting attentively at the edge of his bed. She takes his hands in hers, looking them over, admiring them. “Such beautiful hands. But so, so naughty today, wandering to places they shouldn’t have been.” She places them down on the bed just by his sides. “No moving.”

Then, she backs up to stand front and center in his vision. Knowing that his eyes will be glued to her, she runs her hands over herself, tracing the curves that she knows he’s dying to touch. Arching into her own touch, she releases the buttons of her blouse one by one in a teasing fashion, letting the fabric fall open to reveal the satiny sheen of her bra. Unzipping her skirt, she shimmies her way out of the garment. A tinge of self-consciousness creeps in at the thought of her plain undergarments and how they must pale in comparison to some of the raunchier lingerie sets she’s worn in the past. But Jungkook looks at her like she’s a pin-up model all the same, slack-jawed and pupils dilated. And it gives her the boost she needs to carry on.

Shrugging her blouse off, she saunters over to him and climbs to hover just above his lap. His hands twitch but stay where they are. Her fingers comb their way through the smooth locks of his blond hair, and she watches as his eyes flutter shut under the attention. He’s so, so pretty for her as he succumbs to her touch. Tilting his head back gently to have him look back up at her, she asks, “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” His voice is petulant. “I want to touch you so bad.”

“Do you deserve to touch me after your behavior tonight?”

He shakes his head wordlessly, taking his punishment. Smirking at his obedience, she hoists herself off to sit on the bed beside him, legs crossed and leaned back, the picture of self-assured confidence.

“Strip for me,” she directs simply.

It takes him a second to process her words. But when he does, he snaps to it, whipping his shirt and slacks off. But when he makes to pull his boxer briefs down, she stops him.

“Nuh uh. Those stay on.”

She scoots back and spreads her legs, patting the space between them to get him to come sit. As he does, he can feel the smooth slide of the satin material of her bra against his back, and he longs for the warm plush feel of her breasts against him.

But before he can get too lost in his own want, she grabs his hands to place them on his thighs. “Show me you can restrain yourself,” she says.

Meanwhile, her own hands go skimming up said thighs. Up, up, up, they slide, past the tingly ticklish sides and raking with a featherlight touch between his pecs that have his nipples perking up and begging for attention, his dick twitching in his briefs.

She strokes his collarbone and leans in to whisper in his ear, warm breath puffing against the sensitive skin and her smooth voice delivered directly into his ear makes it feel like she’s everywhere, like she’s overtaken all of his senses. “Will you be good for me?”

He keens out a yes. It’s all he can ever manage when it’s her.

Then, quick as a bolt, her hand drops down to stroke his cock through the cotton material of his briefs. With a pressure that is barely there, merely ghosting over the outline of his erection, her hand pauses where his precum has created a damp spot in the heather grey material. She swipes it ever so lightly with her pointer finger and giggles. “Is this for me?”

He nods, eyes squeezing shut as she rubs her finger over the tip of his dick. He groans out his answer, “Only for you.”

Her hand resumes the torturously fleeting touches over his erection, toying with him. Her legs are hooked over his, anchoring her to him as her hands run free. The smooth skin of her legs is right there. Right there, mere inches from his hands. But he’s not allowed to touch. Jungkook thinks he just might lose his mind. But then her finger comes tapping at his lips, and presses two into the warm, wet cavern.

She knows all about his oral fixation by now. It’s hard not to notice it when, despite every post-orgasm haze, he’s latching onto something of hers, be it a tit or her fingers or sometimes an intense but slow and languorous make-out session. Well-acquainted with his preferences by now, she gives him exactly what he needs. Jungkook sucks on the two fingers she’s granted him like it’s a lifeline, and it eases the ache for him somewhat.

But very soon it becomes insufficient, and his hips begin to rut upwards, seeking more than just the gentle sweeps over his cock that she’s graced him with so far.

“Please,” he begs. “No more teasing.”

But instead of giving him more, she covers his mouth with her hand, continuing relentlessly with the excruciating lightness of her touches. The resultant whine that comes out of him is muffled underneath her palm.

“You’ll take only what I give you,” she says. But as she finishes her sentence, she adds pressure to her strokes, relieving his want just enough to entice him yet keep him on edge.

He writhes against her, but each time his hips lift for more, she pulls away. He can’t even ask for more with the way her tiny hand silences him, the hot gasps that escape him puffing against her palm.

“You need to practice self-restraint,” she coos. He whimpers, and tries his best to control himself, to be obedient for her.

Trembling in the arms that snake around him, he attempts to get a grip on himself. Taking deep, shuddering breaths for what feels like multiple eternities, he finally calms himself down. Aside from the occasional reflexive twitch, he’s gotten himself under control, abs clenched tightly as he keeps a tight rein on his desire.

“Such a good boy for me,” she murmurs her praise, and she finally releases the palm that was over his mouth, stroking his hair back affectionately to tuck it behind his ear.

Then, her hand descends onto a dusky nipple, tweaking it and running slow circles around it, and his moan is released unrestrained and bouncing off the walls of his bedroom. Her hand slips down, down, down. Delicate fingers caress his balls, and it takes all the self-control that he can possibly summon not to thrust upwards, not to move his hands to grab her tiny ones in his, not to use the physical strength he possesses that he knows will easily domineer over hers to flip her over and pin her down and have his way with her already.

Instead, his hands grip at his knees where they’ve remained all this time. His nails dig into his flesh, creating little indents of crescent moons. Seeing this, she tells him to relax. At her gentle coaxing, he begins to release the tension held within his taut muscles one by one. He lets go, eyes falling shut as he lets himself flow with the languid strokes she unhurriedly palms through his briefs.

At his display of obedience, there’s nothing but contentment in her voice as she murmurs, “So good for me.”

Hearing this, he decides to try his luck. “Please,” he begs, his voice tiny. “I’ll be good from now on. Can I please, please touch you now?”

She hums in consideration, but it’s all feigned. Completely pliant in her arms, she knows he’s restraining himself as best as he can despite the way his body trembles with pure want. And she’s ready to give him what he wants.

“Ok.”

His eyes fly open at the simple permission granted. Afraid he might have just imagined it, he asks again, “I can touch you now?”

Pulling away from him, she slides herself backwards to lie fully on his bed and he turns to watch. She unclasps her bra, but leaves it on, giving him the honor of taking it off. Hands beckoning, and voice commanding, she directs him, “Touch me, Koo.”

He crawls forward meekly and gingerly lifts her bra from her, soaking in the sight of her breasts. Slowly, reverently, he traces a finger on her areola. She giggles. “Such a patient boy for me now.” He nods, delighted that she is delighted, and rolls her nipple between his fingers with more boldness.

“Do you want them in your mouth, Koo?” she asks, but it’s less a question than it is permission. With that, he bends to take the other bud into his mouth, and sighs at the feel of it against his tongue, at the satisfaction of having something to suckle on.

With his mouth busy, his hands go running all over her, across the planes of her ribs and caressing her sides and her soft tummy and briefly dipping into her bellybutton. She lifts a leg and grabs his hand to place it on the back of her thigh. Getting the hint, he releases her from his mouth, the bud slightly red and swollen from the attention, and lifts her other leg to pin her thighs to her sides. The damp spot he spies in her underwear causes pride to swell up in him, knowing that he did that to her.

“Here, Koo,” she says, tipping her chin up and pulling him in by the shoulders for a kiss.

Their tongues intertwine and he moans. He’ll never get enough of her. The way their cores fit against each other, melding together despite the two flimsy cloth barriers that separate them, is like they’re just made for one another. The thought of their twin damp arousals rubbing up against one another as their warm, wet tongues slither against each other in this erotic tango has his head swimming in the foggy lust.

She grinds upwards with her hips, legs hooked around his waist, dragging the softness against his dick that’s been painfully hard for god knows how long now, and the thin string of his restraint very nearly snaps. But he’ll be patient. He knows that’s what she wants. And what she wants, he gives.

“I want you, Koo,” she moans out. “In me, please.”

This, he’s happy to obey.

At her word, he pulls the last article of clothing that remains on her down, the last thing that separates her from his eyes. Her folds glisten under the yellow glow of his ceiling light, and it’s a sight to behold. He has to force himself to stay focused, to keep himself from the temptation of bending down to lick a stripe up her slit, to get a taste of her arousal. No, she wants him in her. And that’s what he will give her.

He pulls his briefs down, no time to get them fully off, and they wrap around his muscular thighs as he kneels and lines himself up to her entrance. And then, slowly, steadily, he slides himself in.

As much as he wants to focus on her pleasure and her pleasure alone, the warm and viscous arousal coating him and the velveteen, pillowy feel of her is a sensation like no other and he can’t help but get lost in it for a moment. The feeling is absolutely transcendental, and he pauses, relishes in it, thanking the heavens she’s on birth control.

“Feel good?” she asks, noticing his pause. He nods meekly. “That’s good. I like it when you feel good too.” She smiles and clenches around him lightly, pulling a moan from him. “I like it when you’re a good boy for me so we can both feel good. Will you make me feel good now, Koo?”

Her words set him off and he begins rolling his hips, slow but deep at first, then speeding up as she asks him to. The way her nails rake through his scalp and then down his back drives him forward, the clapping of their flesh together rhythmical with each one of his powerful thrusts.

Soon, the tell-tale signs of her oncoming orgasm begin to show. He feels her clench around him and watches as her back bows as she arches upwards, taking in the wondrous sight of her falling apart before his eyes as she finally erupts around him and coats him in her essence. His heart fills to brim and spills over. Watching her consumed in pleasure and knowing that he was the one to give that to her, it only takes Jungkook a couple more strokes to completion, and he collapses into her chest as he whimpers into the safety of her neck, creaming her walls white.

His lips latch onto the soft skin of her shoulder and he can’t do anything else but suck gentle hickeys into the expanse of her body. He would be content to stay in her forever, feel his dick soften in her plush folds. But she squirms underneath him and he pauses to accommodate her. Gently, she slides him out, but keeps him in her arms and his head nestled in her soft chest. He watches as she slips a hand down, dips two fingers into her pussy, and scoops out their mixed arousal. And as his doe-eyed gaze remains fixated on her glistening fingers, his mouth opening instinctively as they come closer, she slips her fingers and their cum into his mouth.

Savoring the taste of their coupling, he dozes off, completely spent, her fingers still in his mouth as he suckles on them tenderly. And as she watches, the thought of clean-up occurs to her, and she knows that the wiser thing would be to temporarily relinquish her comfort and get it done. But wrapped in his embrace and watching his little blond head rise and fall in tandem with her breaths, she really can’t help herself. Instead, she decides, that’s enough restraint for now.

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part four] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

The investigation continues, even if things aren't moving as smoothly as one would like. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,073 words

note: SMUT Like... this was an excuse to write smut with both of them okay, and totally i forgot to tag those who are on my taglist for the previous part and im so sorry lol but please enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

Days have gone by and the investigation is still underway, but things weren't looking too great. There was still no confirmed DNA evidence, no weapon, not even a witness. Nothing to aid in the apprehension of Taichi's murderer.

"If only Ranpo were here," Atsushi sighed deeply, the snack loving detective out on another case that had popped up. "He would have solved this in a heartbeat."

I laughed softly, wringing my hands nervously. "It's too bad he isn't here," I said, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of me. "Surely it would make things easier for us..."

"But that'll just be boring!" Dazai exclaimed from his desk, leaning against Atsushi who just pushed him off.

"This isn't for your entertainment, Dazai! The killer could have fled the country by now," Kunikida argued, crossing his arms over his chest. "For now, we just have to stay focused and not waste time.

I nodded, slumping back in my chair and fiddling with my pen. "What the hell are we missing..."

We didn't dwell on it for much longer, since the shift ended. I sighed in relief, looking forward to just going home, eating dinner, and going to bed. The case was draining, the dead ends we kept running into just sending us back to square one. Now all I wanted was to rest for the night.

But of course, with a certain suicidal maniac, that was not happening.

"Isn't this cheating..." I gasped out softly, Dazai pressing his naked body against me from behind, his hard dick against my ass and his mouth on my neck.

"Maybe..." Dazai hummed, reaching around to grab my breasts, the soap in his hands making my skin slippery. "But there's no such thing as cheating in a fight."

I gasped sharply when Dazai pinched my nipples, eyes fluttering closed. "This isn't even a fight... you're the weirdo that wanted to turn this investigation into a game."

Leave it to Dazai to basically latch himself onto me as I made my way home. We ordered delivery, eating together on my couch and deciding to watch a movie. Before I knew it, we were making out on my couch, soon enough making our way to the shower.

The water was hot, steaming up the bathroom. Our wet hair stuck to our skin, Dazai holding onto my hips tightly as he fucked me from behind. He bit his lip in concentration, relishing in the sound of my cries echoing in the small room.

"Fuck... Osamu, you feel so good," I cried out, hands slipping on the tiled walls, trying to grab for something. Dazai just pressed his chest against my back, keeping up his rough pace as he chuckled in my ear.

"Do you like that?" "Yes!" "Of course you do, dirty little girl." Dazai reached around and grabbed my face, stuffing two fingers into my mouth. That had my eyes rolling back as I weakly sucked on his fingers, his other hand working on my clit. That finally sent me over the edge as I screamed around his fingers, body shaking as I reached my peak.

Dazai fucked me through my orgasm, ignoring my whines from the overstimulation until he quickly pulled his cock out, pumping himself a few more times before he hit his own orgasm, cumming right on my ass.

"Fuck, bella. You're so beautiful," he gasped, kissing me deeply while pulling us under the hot water.

We barely made it out of the bathroom before going at it again, Dazai fucking me against the wall in the hallway, one of my legs hooked around him while he wrapped a hand around my neck. His breath was hot against my neck, coming out in breathless pants while he continued to rail me.

"Incredible," he whispered in my ear, his hand still around my neck, keeping me in place. "And so pliable... you'll always be putty in my hands."

"Mmm!" I moaned almost pathetically. "Yes..."

"You're my pretty little subordinate?"

"Yes!"

Soon, we finally made it to my bed, where Dazai proceeded to make me ride him like my life depended on it. I was left shaking, the two of us very satisfied.

"So much for a quiet evening," I huffed a while later, the two of us finally getting clean before burying ourselves under my covers. "You are one horny bastard, Dazai."

"Says the equally horny bitch," Dazai retorted and I laughed, turning and pressing my face against the side of his neck.

It went silent, and thankfully it was a comfortable silence where we just lied there, holding onto each other. I sigh contently, fingers lazily trailing up and down his chest while I can feel the bandages on his arms against my skin.

"Dazai?"

"Hm."

"You know..." I started carefully, keeping my face pressed against him. "If you ever need to like... talk... when you're feeling... bad... I'm here for you." I bit my lip, hoping I wasn't overstepping. "I'm here. Even if it's just to listen..."

Dazai didn't say anything, and I was too freaked out to look at him. Though, after a moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, giving me a nice squeeze.

"You are very kind, bella."

I frowned, cuddling up more against him. I blinked when he shifted, looking at him questionably as he set me down on the bed before he started to get up. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom," he grinned back at me. "I won't be long, bella. Don't miss me too much!"

I just scoffed and rolled my eyes, watching Dazai leave the bedroom before staring up at the ceiling. I waited, frown on my face growing deeper as the minutes went by, teeth chewing on my bottom lip nervously.

"Sorry, I went to get some water," Dazai then returned, quickly climbing into bed beside me. Immediately his arms are wrapped around me, holding me tight. "Let's go to sleep."

I smiled up at him, softly pressing a kiss to his lips before I settled against him, closing my eyes. "Goodnight."

Dazai watched me for a second, his lips curling up in an amused, knowing smile. "Goodnight, bella..."

"Ah... this is nerve-wracking..." Keiko mumbled softly, clinging onto my hand as we stepped up to the very familiar tall building. I gulped, nervous since the building was overrun with members of the Port Mafia.

It was the day after that night I spent with Dazai, and instead of being at work, I had received a call from an unknown number. That had turned out to be Chuuya, who ordered me to find Keiko and bring both of our asses to meet him in his office.

Chuuya wasn't just a member of the Port Mafia, but he was an executive, and he held great power. It was almost scary, especially as Keiko and I rode up the escalator to the right floor.

"I wonder what he wants..." Keiko says nervously, biting her lip as we approached the office. We finally made it and I knocked on it five times.

"Come in."

I gulped and we walked inside. Chuuya sat in his desk, and if I wasn't so nervous, I would have been drooling at how fucking fine he looked, sitting with his feet propped on the desk. He gestured to the chairs before his desk lazily. "Sit."

He mostly wanted to talk to Keiko, seeing as she was Taichi's boyfriend and to make sure she didn't tell too much info to the police or "those bastards at the ADA", as he said while shooting me a dirty look. I returned it.

"Of course not," Keiko said softly. "And I wanted to thank you for paying for his funeral. That was nice of you."

Chuuya waved her off. "It wasn't a problem. He was one of my best men." Keiko clenched her fists tightly in her lap as he said that.

"Did you find out anything? We're not having too much luck either," I spoke up, thoughtful look on my face. "Like how can you not find DNA when he was selling the drugs there? There had to have been other people." I looked over at Keiko, missing how Chuuya's eyes went wide before he narrowed them at me.

"It's pissing me off how hard this is," he said rather stiffly, still watching me. "At the end of the day, this might just end up closing as a cold case... but like hell will I forget this." Chuuya clenched his fists, a look of anger and determination on his face. "But we are done here. Well, I'm done with you, Keiko. I still need to speak with her." He was looking right at me.

Keiko gave me a knowing look and a wink and I just playfully shoved her towards the door. "I'll see you later, okay?" I said and she nodded before walking out. Turning back to Chuuya, I watched him get up from his desk. "So what else did you wanna talk about?" I asked, tilting my head as Chuuya walked around the desk and towards me, not answering.

"Um? Hel-mmph!"

Chuuya gripped the back of my neck, pulling me in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. I cupped his face, kissing him back just as deeply. He turned us around so as he walked me backwards with his lips still on mine, I bumped right against his desk, which he sat me on.

"You came in here in this sexy ass dress and expect me not to fuck you?" Chuuya growled, kissing down my neck as his hands moved up my dress. He smirked as he massaged my thighs, quickly finding my knife and removing it. "This is a beautiful knife," he hummed, inspecting it. I smiled softly, weakly reaching to grab it but Chuuya just flicked it, the blade neatly embedding itself right on his desk. "You take great care of it."

"Well, that was my first knife..." I said softly, desperately wanting my knife back, but that went out the window once Chuuya kissed me again.

My legs soon found themselves wrapped around Chuuya's hips. His pants were pushed down just enough to free his cock, my panties pushed to the side as he fucked me right on top of his desk.

"Fuck, dollface, you're even better than I fucking remembered," Chuuya hissed, pushing me on my back, on top of his messy papers. He tossed one of my legs over his shoulder, squeezing his gloved fingers into my flesh as I could only moan and whine in pleasure, his thrusts hitting hard and deep inside me, I was seeing stars.

"S-so much for... only one time, huh," I managed to choke out, my head tossing back as Chuuya hit that one spot. "Oh, fuck!"

"Yeah, shut up and take this cock," Chuuya hissed. His thumb pressed against my clit, and that was enough to have me squeezing him tight as I hit my orgasm, legs shaking and loud cries leaving my mouth.

That got him going and soon, Chuuya was pulling out and I was on my knees, fisting his cock and letting Chuuya cum in my mouth. Chuuya petted my hair, a blissed out look on his face. "Good girl. Now, bend yourself over the desk."

With shaking knees, I got myself up and bent over Chuuya's desk like he ordered, displayed all nice and pretty for him. I looked back over my shoulder, shuddering at how he looked at me, blue eyes full of hunger as he bit on his lower lip. His leather clad hands started to squeeze my ass, moving one hand up until he's pressing on the middle of my back, guiding his cock against my entrance with his other hand.

We borh groaned in pleasure as he started pushing himself in, Chuuya tossing his head back with a hiss. "Fuck, I'll never get tired of this." He starts thrusting his hips, moaning again at the feel of my walls around him. "Fuck, fuck..."

"It's all yours..." I could only babble out, the feel of him stretching me nice and good frying my brain. "Chuuya, please, oh my God..."

After two more soul shattering orgasms, I was finally allowed to leave... if I even could. There was a smug grin on Chuuya's face as he just stared at me. I sat in the chair across from him, the two of us dressed, but he looked like a damn model while I looked like I had a run in with the giant industrial fans they had in elementary school cafeterias during the warmer days.

"Get that dumb look off your face," I whined. "It's not fair. I looked like I got attacked."

Chuuya snickered. "I mean... that's not so far off."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, you and Dazai are so unbelievably horny, it's sad."

Chuuya growled. "First off, don't talk about him around me. And second, who was the one begging to titfuck my cock?"

I scoffed, face hot and I turned my nose up at him. "Shut up."

"Just go home."

"Fine. You guys are still cheaters anyway," I said before standing up. I walked over to him, leaning over his desk and I was happy when he met me halfway and gave me a kiss. "Call me again. Maybe when there isn't a weird investigation going on."

Chuuya rolled his eyes, shooing me away. "Just go."

I giggled softly before turning and walking out of the office. Chuuya sighed deeply, opening one of his desk drawers. He stared at the object inside of it for a moment, sighing again before grabbing his pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it up before taking a long drag.

-End

tags in replies!

[peterrparrkerr]

Puppy play - read on ao3

Tagging @snowstark because I know they like puppy Peter just as much as I do!

*-*

Peter looks beautiful, sprawled out on the white sheets below him. His pale skin on show, cock tipped pink and blue collar secured around a thin neck.

Tony wants to ruin him. Wants to bruise his skin and make him cry.

He looks up at Tony, nerves making his eyes wide, his breath a little quick. Tony smooths his palms down his puppy's arms, squeezing his hands before moving to his hips.

Peter mewls softly, body shifting at the feel. Tony smirks. He's not even touching the boy and he's already worked up.

"Such a good puppy," Tony grinned. Peter tipped his head back, exposing that pretty little collar, bow and bell settling against his neck.

He responded so positively to his pet name. Tony hums at the sight, running his palms up Peter's flat tummy, over the ridges of his ribcage. His fingers catch on Peter's hard nipples and the puppy keens, chest pressing up into Tony's touch.

"You gonna be good for me?" Tony asked, hands again moving down, past his hips -avoiding his groin- and to his thighs.

"Uh-huh," Peter hums, eyes closing as Tony squeezes his legs. Tony smiles, curling his hands around Peter's knees and lifting.

Peter opens his eyes, and is quick to bring his legs up, holding the back of his knees without being told.

"Good pup," Tony hummed, taking in Peter's exposed skin. "Stay."

Peter swallows thickly, throat clicking at the order. Tony's roaming hands return, smoothing the back of Peter's thighs before following the curve of his ass.

Tony watched Peter's dick twitch, pink hole fluttering.

Tony pops the fly of his pants, pulling the zip down to give his own stiff cock room before grabbing the bottle of lube and squinting some onto his first two fingers.

Peter watches silently, waiting, still full of nerves, but trusting in Tony. He was perfect.

Tony brought his fingers down to Peter's pink hole, pressing into him, but not penetrating.

Peter's breath hitches and he moves away from Tony's touch. "S'cold!"

Tony leans over and presses a soft kiss to Peter's calf. "I'm sorry, pup," he breathed against the skin. He warms it up between his fingers and thumb before continuing.

This time, Peter shivers, lets falling apart to further expose himself to Tony.

The older smiles down at him, continuing the gentle massage to loosen his pup up.

"So beautiful, only for me," Tony cooed. "My puppy."

"Yours," Peter whimpered. Tony pressed a forefinger against Peter's rim, listening to the boy gasp at the feeling of being entered for the first time.

"There you go, such a good pet," Tony praised, beginning to slowly thrust his finger in and out of his puppy.

He added a second one, torn between what he wanted to watch more; Peter's face screw up in pain and discomfort, or his hole stretching deliciously around his intruding fingers.

By the time Tony squeezes in three fingers, Peter's biting back moans and gripping his legs so tight Tony can see the tips of his fingers are white.

His breaths come out in desperate sharp pants. Tony hums, leaning over the boy, still three fingers deep inside as he hovers over his puppy.

"Don't stifle yourself," he ordered, kissing down Peter's jaw and nipping at his ear lobe. "Let me hear those pretty puppy sounds."

Another aborted moan filters through, so Tony hooks his fingers and pulls down, tugging on Peter's rim.

Peter yelps, back arching and body tensing at the feeling. Tony smirked, kissing Peter's jaw once more before returning to his knelt position by his legs.

"Good boy," Tony smiled, continuing to work his fingers inside the boy.

Tears are welling in Peter's eyes, and like Tony predicted, once Peter started, he couldn't stop.

His moans left his open mouth without thought, whimpers and whines and newls, breath hitching. It was music to Tony's ears.

"Does that feel good?" Tony asked, feeling the muscles around his fingers relax further.

"Uh-huh," Peter gasped out, moaning again as Tony twisted his wrist. "S'good, Tony. Feels so good."

Tony smirks, continuing to twist his wrist on every thrust in, pulling more filthy sounds from his puppy.

"You want more?" Tony asked, his cock straining in his pants. His patience is wearing thin. He wants to push inside of his puppy, fuck him hard.

Peter nods, chewing on a swollen lower lip, legs spread further apart.

Tony pauses inside him, mid thrust. He gives Peter a raised eyebrow.

"Good puppies beg, Peter," he scolds. The pup's eyes widen slightly, breath hitching.

"Please," he whimpers, once he's found his voice. "Please, Tony, please I want- want more."

Tony groans at the sound and pulls his fingers free. "On your knees."

Peter releases his legs and rolls over, kneeling with his back to Tony. Thd little bell around his neck jingling as he does so. He leaned forward until he was on his hands, spine curved beautifully, rounding out into his ass.

"Good," Tony hummed, climbing off the bed. "Stay."

Peter nods, chewing on his lip as he watched Tony shuck out of his pants and boxers.

Tony grabs the bottle of lube and squirts some onto his palm before stroking himself. He lets out a sigh, finally being able to touch, to stroke the fire burning in his gut.

Once he's properly slicked, Tony climbs back onto the bed. He knee-walks right up to his puppy and pets his ass, humming in approval.

Tony holds his cock just under the tip, angling himself so he's level with Peter's hole. He brushes the tip against him, listening to the puppy whine.

With his other hand, he follows Peter's spine, curling his fingers around the back of his neck.

"Drop to your elbows, good boy, such a good puppy, doing what I ask."

With Peter on his elbows, his hips roll back, giving Tony a different angle to thrust into.

He keeps a hand around Peter's neck as he pushes in. Its tight, and Tony has to roll his hips forward and back just to get his cockhead past the rim.

Peter yelps when Tony pops inside, trying to rock forward and away, bell sounding with the rough jolt forward, but Tony just tightens his hold around his puppy's neck, holding his scruff.

"Hurts," Peter gasped, hands fisting the sheets in front of him. Tony hums soothingly, rocking his hips and sliding in just a little further with each roll forward.

Peter is tight, painfully so even after the prep. He's heavenly. Perfect in every way.

"You're doing so well, puppy," Tony grunts, feeding more to Peter. "You were made to take my cock, my sweet pet."

Peter lets our a dry sob, head falling forward. Tony pushes in steadily, trying to get as deep as he can in one go.

Peter throws a hand back, pressing his palm into Tony's stomach in an attempt to get him to still, whining out his displeasure.

Tony grabs him by the wrist, twisting his arm until it lays bent behind him and presses in further.

With both hands pinning Peter, the boy has no choice but to drop to his chest as Tony sinks in to the hilt.

"Tony! Tony it hurts! Please, no more, its-" Peter gasps for breath, thighs quivering and chest heaving.

"Too much!"

Tony pets Peter's neck soothingly, keeping ahold of his wrist. "Shh, pup, you can take it," he promised, rocking slowly in and out of the boy.

Peter shakes his head and whimpers, groaning in pain. "Hurts," he chokes out.

"It'll feel better soon," Tony promised. His rolling hips quicken their pace, and Tony begins a gentle thrust, in and out, in and out, each time pulling out a little further before pressing back in.

Peter's pain filled moans turn into whimpers, little gasps and mewls. Tony smirks and picks up the pace.

He's pushing Peter deeper into the mattress with every thrust, and soon he's got a quick, even pace going.

He lets go of Peter's neck and arm in order to grab at Peter's hips, snapping his own forward.

Peter shouts, head thrown back and arms lifting him up off his chest. His cry is accompanied by the little bell. A beautiful sound.

"Thats it," Tony groans. "Doing so well, such a good pet, making such pretty sounds just for me."

Peter's elbows give out, and he's back to pressing his face into the mattress, little bell sounding.

Tony continues to rail into his puppy, reaching forward with one hand to fist Peter's curls. He doesn't pull, but Peter still gasps, keening and reaching back to grab Tony by the wrist.

"Ton-tony!" Peter gasps, body rocking forward as Tony snaps his hips forward again and again. The only sounds are their combined moans and whimpers, their skin slapping against each other, and the ring of the bell adorning Peter's neck.

He glances back, smirking at Peter's feet, held up off the mattress, toes curled inpleasure.

Tony snaps his hips forward with vigor. Peter's moans raise an octave and Tony feels his balls draw up, close to an orgasm.

"Tony!" Peter shouts, frantic as he scrambles for purchase, gasping wetly as he cums. Tony groans as the pup clenches down around him, making it harder to move.

Tony reaches a hand under Peter, wrapping a hand around his slightly curved cock and stroking him through his climax.

Peter moans long and loud, voice wavering near the end. A second later, the boy is shifting, whining pitifully, trying to get away.

"Nuh-uh, I'm not done with you yet," Tony scolds, griping the pup by his hips, keeping him in place.

"Tony, Tony," Peter gasps, thighs quivering.

Tony fucks into Peter roughly, quick and brutal, chasing his orgasm until it slams into him.

He groans loud, burying himself deep into Peter as he cums. Peter whimpers, chest and arms resting on the mattress, ass held out to Tony as he pushed his cum as deep as he could.

Tony curls an arm around Peter's stomach, pulling him up and deeper onto Tony's cock. Peter whimpers, raising when Tony silently demands him to until he's on his knees, practically sitting on Tony's lap, ass full of cock.

"Such a good boy," Tony murmured into his ear, kissing Peter's jaw from behind as he holds Peter to him. "A perfect puppy, just for me."

Peter hums, breathless, a hand moving to grip Tony's arm around his tummy. Tony continues to leave a mess of kisses across Peter's jaw and neck, murmuring gentle praises to his pet until his cock is soft inside Peter.

Cum drools out of Peter as Tony pulls out, and Peter whimpers at the feeling. Tony smirks, scooping a finger inside and pulling it back coated in his own release.

He holds his finger in front of Peter from behind, smirking.

"Lick it off," Tony ordered. Peter glances down at it, before turning his head to look at Tony. "Go on, clean it up, puppy. Be a good pet."

Peter shivers against Tony and slowly wraps his lips around Tony's finger, suckling softly as he licks the cum off.

"Good, good boy," Tony hummed. Peter hums in return. Tony pulls his finger out with a wet pop. "You like that? Want more?"

Tony doesn't wait for Peter to answer. He's already scooping more cum from Peter's ass, running his fingers up the inside of his thigh to catch whats dripped.

"Such a good pet for cleaning up your mess," Tony smiled, feeding Peter his cum covered digits. The pup sucks them clean.

Absolutely perfect, Tony thinks. The perfect pet.

[apocalypseornaw]

About Time

*Not my Gif* Sam finally admits he's in love with you. (Some nsfw)

The day Sam met you was a trial by fire sort of thing. Him and Dean needed a couple extra hands on a hunt so Bobby had sent you and your cousin their way. Your cousin was only a couple years older than Dean so the two of them teamed up leaving you with Sam. He was impressed from the start because you managed to finesse the local fuzz in a way that Dean wouldn't even be able to. 

On the hunt itself you held your own against the nest of vamps and ended up even carrying one of the more injured victims out yourself. Your cousin just shook her head when him and Dean told you they could've went back for the girl "She thinks she's wonder woman. I swear this girl is either gonna be the death of me or end up ruling hell" Dean bought you a beer afterwards, Sam was hooked.

Over the years you kept in contact with Sam and Dean then when your cousin died you ended up starting to hunt more often with them and eventually took their offer of a bedroom in the bunker. You and Dean had quickly become best friends, same as you and Cas. Sam had been harboring feelings for you for years that only got worse living in close quarters with you.

------

You'd been living in the bunker for a couple months when one morning Sam got back from his run to overhear you talking to Dean in the kitchen "Dean either he doesn't look at me like that or he is the most oblivious man on the face of this earth" you'd recently split from a guy you'd been seeing off and on so he didn't want to get his hopes up until Dean said "That's where it helps having the guy who's known him since birth on your side sweetheart and standford or no standford Sammy doesn't really take subtle well. Just tell him how you feel because I've listened to him talk about you for years. I've heard him cuss every guy you've ever dated. He feels the same"

He headed to his room to act as if he hadn't heard any of the conversation. When he walked into the library after a shower you were sitting at one of the long tables looking over a lore book and glanced up when he walked in "Hey Sam" he smiled "Good morning Y/N. Where's Dean this early?" you held up a half of a glass of orange juice "It was his turn to go on a supply run and we're out of coffee" 

He walked over to sit down next to you and tilted the book you were reading to see the front of it "Enochian?" You shrugged "Figured it'd come in handy if I could translate at least a few words if Cas wasn't around?" "That's smart" he said with a smile and realized just how close he was sitting to you when you moved to face him and your hair brushed his shoulder "Sam, can I ask you something?" your eyes widening told him you hadn't realized the close proximity either "Of course" he held your gaze and watched you nip at the tip of your thumb which was something you did when you were nervous no matter how rare that situation was "Do you wanna go out with me?"

He reached to pull your hand away from your mouth and smiled when you tracked his movements with your eyes "I'd love to"

-------

That friday you and Sam headed out to a local bar that Dean said served decent enough food. Hell Dean had even let you take baby out which was a rare thing indeed.

You walked into the bar behind Sam and smiled when he reached back to grab your hand "C'mon sweetheart" he pulled you towards a booth in the corner. You slid in first and he slid in after you. You glanced around and saw that a live band was setting up, the bar itself looked clean and with a normal enough crowd. 

After the waitress took your order Sam turned towards you "Why are we nervous? We've known each other for years" You shrugged "I don't know. Maybe we should go ahead and kiss and get that out of the way?" he laughed lightly then said "That actually sounds like a good idea" you leaned up to touch your lips against his in a quick kiss that quickly deepened when he pulled you into his lap. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself when you felt his tongue flick across your lips asking for entrance so you opened your mouth slightly and had to stifle a moan when you felt his tongue slide into your mouth moving against yours. 

His hands slipped under your shirt and a low moan escaped you at the feeling of his hands on your skin. The waitress clearing her throat broke the two of you apart. You never broke eye contact with Sam when you threw a twenty down and said "That'll pay for the drinks, cancel our food please" she simply took the money and walked away with a laugh. 

You climbed out of his lap then grabbed his hand "Suddenly I'm not hungry, how about you?" His eyes ran across your body before he finally said "Not for food"

-------

The ride back to the bunker felt longer than it ever been. You were trying not to distract Sam but god you'd finally felt his lips on yours and was wondering what they would feel like on other body parts.

About halfway back he finally pulled off the road and killed the lights. When you shot him a look he raised an eyebrow "Come here" you quickly straddled his lap feeling how hard he already was underneath you. "Do you want to wait until we get back?" He asked kissing your neck and down to your collarbone pushing your shirt down further to give him access to more skin. "Who says we can't have another round once we get to a bed?"

He chuckled against your skin "I like that answer" he moved his hands to the seam of your shirt and you moved to let him pull it over your head. "I've wanted this for a long time" he whispered letting his tongue run across the top of your bared breasts. You let your head fall back with a moan as he sucked gently on the skin there. "Sam, is there enough room?" he glanced up at you and you realized your choice of words "I mean in the front seat?"

He thought about it for a moment then pulled back "Get in the back" you climbed off his lap and climbed across the seat while he stepped out then opened the back door to climb in with you. You laid back on the seat and curled your finger at him "Come here Winchester" he pulled his shirt over his head then climbed up you leaving a trail of kisses on every inch of exposed skin. When he got to your mouth the kiss was hungry but gentle. He rolled his hips against your and a groan left his lips when you moaned at the movement. "We really need these jeans off" you laughed so he leaned back up far enough to help you slip off your jeans and boots then kicked his own off.

He spread your legs then licked his lips "God you're beautiful" you felt a slight wave of embarrassment at being completely bared and must have moved to cover yourself because he caught both of your hands in one of his "Nope, I want to see every inch of you baby" there was soo much sincerity in his voice you relaxed and he smiled "Now lay back. If I do anything you don't like tell me ok?" You nodded and he lowered his head leaving kisses up your left leg until he got to where you needed the most attention "Sam" you moaned when he licked into you curling his tongue up against that sensitive spot.

You could feel an orgasm building and gripped his hair as your breathing quickened. He added two fingers in with his tongue and that was all it took. You came with a moan of his name on your lips. He worked you through the orgasm then kissed his way back up your body. When he got to your lips he caught your mouth in a hard kiss allowing you to taste yourself on him "Please fuck me Sam" you moaned and he smiled against your lips "Yes ma'am"

When he slid into you, you bit your lip against the stretch. Once he was fully inside of you he stilled letting you adjust to him. "Are you ok?" he asked kissing your neck and chest. You nodded after a moment and tapped his hips "Move Sam" he started to roll his hips against yours every movement rubbing against that spot deep inside of you "God damn Sam" you moaned and he laughed "I'll take that as a compliment" you knew from the angle and pace he wouldn't be able to come easily so after a few moments you urged him "You can go harder Sam you won't hurt me"

He started to thrust harder and you felt your eyes roll back as that building pressure burst again. "Fuck Y/N you're so damn beautiful taking me like that baby. Ugh you're squeezing me hard enough I can barely move" he groaned biting down on your breast hard enough you knew there'd be a mark there come morning. "Sam oh fuck please tell me you're close" you begged and he nodded hitting even deeper inside of you.

When you felt his hips shudder you knew he was close. "I'm close baby" he whispered and you gripped his shoulders when you felt him come emptying inside of you. He thrust a few more times before collapsing against you moving just enough to make sure you could breath fine. "Fuck why did we wait so long to do that?" you asked with a laugh kissing his tattoo since it was closest to your lips. "I don't know but I look forward to doing it again" "And again?" you asked pulling him to you for a kiss.

-------

Luckily Dean was asleep by the time you two got back so he didn't see both of you come in carrying your shoes, Sam only wearing jeans and you wearing Sam's shirt. You dropped your pile of clothes in your room then headed to Sam's room with him. The night was far from over.

------

A couple weeks later Dean and Cas had ran into town to grab supplies so you were sitting at one of the tables in the library looking over news articles to make sure there was nothing near by that needed attention. Sam stood there watching you for the longest, your hair was falling out of your bun and you were chewing on the end of your pen. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight.  You glanced up after a moment and grinned "I'm literally your wallpaper on your phone so if you wanna stare you have pictures"

"I love you Y/N" he said so easily and didn't even think twice about it until your smile fell. "I um I mean it's ok if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to tell you" but you cut him off by grabbing his hand to pull him closer "Sam! calm down" when he finally stopped talking you laughed "I love you too. I have for a while"

You heard clapping and looked up to see Dean at the bottom of the steps "About damn time" Cas looked around him "I tried to get him to not eavesdrop" you laughed again "Don't worry Cas I'm used to it"

[ethanharli]

Pairing(s): Oikawa Tooru x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): NSFW (SMUT), Cursing, Bottom Oikawa, etc etc all that good stuff.

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

_________

I pray that my ears have deceived me, but from the apologetic look on my teachers face I know I heard it correctly. "[Y/n] you'll be working with Oikawa on this project" The pencil in my hand almost snapped when he spoke, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. It's not like I have anything personal against the male but he surely does for me, only because his annoying ass fan-girls decided to make me their new target, causing the dumbass to lose some of his popularity amongst the females. Standing from my seat I moved towards the male, plopping down in the seat beside him since the teacher gave us the rest of class to start working on this three fucking week project. "We're working on this at your house" I stated bluntly, causing the shorter male to wince at my harsh tone.

"Eh? Why mine?!" He huffed while glaring at me through narrowed eyes, I merely shrugged and pulled out our text book, starting to flip through the pages. Not bothering to speak to the male anymore then I have to, however he didn't seem to take kindly to that and kept pestering me the whole damn class period, until finally the last bell rang, signaling for us to head home. Well not really since I have to head off with Oikawa, which wouldn't be too bad if it weren't for his squealing fan-girls that literally popped out of no where. "Oikawa!" A chorus of feminine voices sang aloud, running up to the setter besides me until their eyes turned towards me, "And [Y/n] too!" They screeched, but before Oikawa could make any advance in talking to them, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, glaring at the girls through narrowed eyes.

"Fuck off" I growled, dragging Oikawa off the school grounds while also trying to ignore the way the girls swooned after. "Y'know you're really mean" The setter pouted as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at me out the corner of his eye. With a quick roll of my eyes I stuffed my hands in my pockets, letting out a heavy sigh knowing it's going to be a very a long three weeks, and by the sudden glimmer in his eye I knew I was right. "Keep looking at me like that and I'll push you in the mud" I muttered out, getting a bit annoyed from the way he stared at me. "Do you have any other setting other than jerk?" Oikawa huffed, leading me up to his front door before letting me inside.

"For pretty boy's like you? No" I shot back, scratching at the back of my head before following him up to his room. A teasing smile was quickly brought to his lips as we stepped into his room, gazing into my eyes with a playful look, "You think I'm pretty?" His smile never faltered as he stepped closer to me, nearly brushing up against me. And I immediately saw the game he was trying to play, so with a quick glance I let my eyes wander over his face, taking in the way his eyes nearly shimmered a golden color under the light, then traveled them down his form, almost having to force my gaze away from the way he arched his back, "Maybe" I smirked, drawing my tongue over my upper lip before going back to my cold expression. Watching the way his face flushed slightly with widened eyes, before taking a seat on his floor.

Cause I don't plan to lose at a game that I know how to win.

***

It's only been a week into the project and Oikawa's been ruthless with his flirting, he even went as far as too see me during lunch and after the classes we didn't have together just to put a word or two in with a teasing smirk. However as the days went by something seemed a little off, I'd always notice that his gaze would linger on me a lot longer than it used too, his face would heat up whenever we talked and he'd actually show more of his calmer side, then there's the fact that even though he's been more ruthless with the flirting, it slowly stopped making me feel like I was some kind of goal he wished to accomplish, and the thought of that.. Kind of worried me.

Cause I know I'm starting to feel something for the male, even if he can be annoying as hell. Under all that he's really not a bad guy, he has his moments of serenity and the happy glimmer in his eyes when he's playing volleyball is something that makes me my heart flutter, but the real choice is should I actually follow this feeling or drop it here? I know Oikawa's continuous flirting was merely him trying to win me over, he was trying to play his cards right and if I'm being honest, he did well. He beat me at my own game and I damn well knew it, but would I admit it? Not in a million years.

"[Y/n]! Thanks for waiting" Oikawa panted as sweat slowly ran down his face and neck, quickly forcing my gaze away before any thoughts could come to mind. "Don't have much of a choice" I stated bluntly, starting to walk out the school gates I didn't brother waiting for Oikawa as I headed in the direction of his home leaving the screeching male to try and catch up with me. We walked in silence for a bit, but my attention was caught by the way a slow heat crept up Oikawa's neck, causing his cheeks and ears to burn a pretty pink while he chewed on his lower lip, nearly forcing my heart to stop from the sight. However the male suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking up at me with a small smile that I haven't seen before, "[Y/n] I need to tell you something" His tone was soft as he crossed his arms, taking a deep breath before looking me in the eye.

"I like you!" My eyes widened a bit at his words, but a tight feeling in my gut made me second guess his confession. I know his type, the playboy that can get anyone he wants, I only know because I was like that once back in junior high, I could've had anyone I wanted but, it got boring after a while and I realized I wanted something real not just that one week lover bullshit, I want someone to spend my life with, "No offense Oikawa but how am I supposed to believe that?" I knew my words would hurt him, and I immediately regretted it when his chocolate colored eyes shined from the thin layer of tears threatening to spill. "You flirt with every one of your fan girls, hell I saw you flirting with them at lunch yesterday and don't think I didn't know what you were trying to do when you started flirting with me."

Oikawa flinched at my words, slowly averting his gaze towards the ground and I had to resist the urge to pull him towards me, "Fine.. then I'll just have to make you believe me!" His lips curled into a small smile as his eyes filled with determination, shocking me a bit.

"We'll see."

***

It was a bit surprising to see that Oikawa had stopped flirting with his fangirls, taking any minute of the day he could just to spend time with me. He drags me to each of his volleyball practices, grinning at me with a hopeful gaze whenever he sets or serves, it was kind of cute how he always looking for me after doing so. That much I couldn't deny, but it finally hit the last week of our project with only the weekend to finish it, so sitting on his bed I finished gluing the pictures to the small board since we left the easy stuff for last, however Oikawa went to go change so it was just me in the room, until someones arms wrapped around my neck, resting their chest against my back. "[Y/n]" Oikawa muttered into my ear with a low whine that caused me to stop what I was doing, feeling his warmth slowly flood over me in a soothing way.

"What are you doing Oikawa?" I breathed out, moving my hands to his arms with a gentle but firm grip, looking back at him through the corner of my eye, only to see the beautiful chocolate brown I've come to adore. "C'mon! We've gotten to know each other well enough and I even confessed to you! So call me Tooru" He whined, shifting around so that he was sitting in front of me, giving me a full view of the baggy t-shirt he wore and simple dark blue boxers underneath. It was nearly impossible to tare my gaze away and that was obviously his intention when he moved the project to the floor, climbing into my lap with a teasing smirk that I've seen plenty of times before. Running his fingers through my hair he bit his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth in a slow motion that kept my eyes on the movement.

It was a simple trick that had all my attention, pulling me in until I let out a soft groan from the sudden ghost-like touch on my cock that had forced a shudder through Oikawa's body. "Tooru-" I muttered subconsciously, moving my hands to thighs that I gripped tightly when he started to palm me through my pants, "Ngh.." The moan that slipped past his lips sounded like music to my ears, and I just had to hear more. The corner of my lips curved into a sly smirk as I moved my hands up his thighs, pressing my thumbs to the soft inner part of them before pressing my lips to the base of his neck, dragging my teeth up the soft skin, biting down when he let out a breathy moan along with a sudden shiver that ran down his spine. "[Y-Y/n].." He whimpered softly, moving his hands under my shirt to pull it off, which I gladly allowed, loving the way his hands explored my upper body as I pushed up his shirt, practically yanking it off of him when he smirked up at me, face flushed in the brightest red I've seen it.

After pressing his back into the bed he took my hand with his as he shamelessly brought it to his lips, curling his tongue around my middle finger in a slow motion that made my pants tighten uncomfortably, and I couldn't help but notice he was in the same pain I'm in. I happily pressed the pad of my finger against the back of his tongue, taking note of the fact he didn't gag from the action, useful information for later. With that thought out the way I tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and off his smooth legs, taking in the sight of his messy form beneath me. I pulled my hand from his grasp, quickly capturing his lips with my own in a slow motion in order to savour the taste of his mouth when he shyly brushed his tongue with my own, desperately gripping onto my hair as I pressed my middle finger to his entrance, hoping that the kiss would help distract him from the sudden feeling when I slowly pushed it in.

"Hah! [Y-Y/n]!" He gasped out, moving his fingers from my hair to rake down my back in a painful motion that forced a groan from my throat. "Keep going-" His words caused my eyes to widen a bit until I realized something that I couldn't help but smirk at, "Did you already prep yourself?" I asked, nipping at his ear afterwards, loving the way his body trembled from my touch. All I got in response was a quick shameless nod, bucking his hips in an attempt to get more friction from my fingers, "Well if that's the case" I hummed, pulling away from the male in order to take off my pants, letting them fall to the ground. "On your hands and knee's, now" I demanded in my usual cold tone that forced a shiver down his spine, but I could tell it aroused him even more by the way his cock twitched and the whimper that escaped his throat as he spun around, lifting his ass in the air while pressing his face into his pillow, looking back at me with pleading eyes.

With a quick nod I took his hips in my hands, lining my cock up to his entrance before slowly pushing in, still giving him time to adjust even if he'd already prepped himself. The way his back arched when I pushed all the way in caught my attention along with the way he dug his nails into the sheets beneath him, letting out heavy pants into the pillow. "M-Move" He whimpered out, while my grip tightens on his hips, pulling out just to the tip before snapping my hips back, immediately feeling his walls clench around me as I rocked my hips in a fast pace, simply wanting to hear the way his voices hitches everytime I thrust back in, "[Y/N] THERE! P-lease! Please.." The pleading tone in voice caused my core to tighten, so pulling out I flipped Oikawa on his back, thrusting back in without warning, adoring the way his mouth hung open, panting heavily, pupils blown with a lustful desire I wouldn't want to see from anyone else.

Adjusting slightly I aimed at the spot from before, hitting it straight on while wrapping my hand around his cock, pumping it with quick motions that caused him to scream my name, "C-Cumming! I'm cumming!" Oikawa's body quaked under me as he released onto his chest, letting his eyes flutter shut with heavy breaths as I kissed his forehead, "Just a little longer Tooru" I whispered, brushing my fingers against his cheek as I tried to pull out, only for Oikawa to pull me back with his legs forcing me to cum inside him, which earned me a small hiss of pleasure. Panting heavily I moved to lay besides him on my back, not minding when he cuddled up under my arm, "Are you feeling okay?" I asked in a throaty tone, only getting a weak nod in reply.

"Does this mean.. You accept my confession?" Oikawa chuckled softly, pulling the blanket over us in a slow motion and I couldn't hold back the smile forming on my face, looking down at the brunette with a soft expression.

"Of course you idiot."

"Mm, well now I'm your idiot now!"

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter nineteen

genre: fluff!! some angst

warnings: mentions of prison, ptsd and its symptoms (flashbacks, kinda)

word count: 6.1k

summary: spencer gets home and amelia helps him keep his head on straight.

pairing: season twelve/thirteen spencer reid x oc

AMELIA

Stepping back into my apartment after being away for over twenty-four hours is such a relief. Spencer, for some reason, didn't want to go back to his own apartment, so I happily bring him right to mine.

He's half asleep in my passenger seat, his head resting against the window and his hand smushed against his cheek. Despite the challenging circumstances, at every red light, I gaze over to admire how adorable he looks with puffy cheeks and flushed skin. He's fighting sleep as we journey to my apartment, and even though I've told him that he doesn't have to, I still see him forcing his eyes open every few seconds.

When we're just a few minutes from my apartment, I finally speak up. "So," I murmur, and he lifts his head slightly, "do you wanna do anything when we get home, or do you wanna go right to sleep?"

Spencer shakes his head and adjusts his position so he's leaning more towards me, his head almost resting on my shoulder. "I'm really tired but I'm hungry. And I wanna shower too. Do you have my stuff at your apartment still?"

"Of course I do, doll," I smile, reaching my hand over to rest on his cheek, keeping my eyes on the road. "I have your go-bag too. So a shower, some food, and then sleep. We can do that," Spencer turns his head and kisses my palm, capturing my hand in his and bring them into his lap. I pull up in front of my apartment and park my car, smiling over at my hazy and sleepy boyfriend. "Here, Spence."

We climb out of my car and go trudging up to my apartment, and I push my keys into the lock. I twist it but it doesn't make the clicking sound to tell me it's unlocked, so I pull out the keys. I put them in again and twist one more time, and when the lock doesn't click, I pull the keys out for the second time. I figure that my friends might just be major idiots and have forgotten to lock the door after they left yesterday, so I tuck the keys in my pocket and twist the knob. It pops right open. Great. My door has been unlocked for over twenty-four hours.

Spencer isn't paying much mind to this though as we trudge in, kicking off our shoes. I hang up my jacket and turn to Spencer to ask for his jacket so I can put it in the washer, but his gaze is somewhere else. I follow where he's looking and find that the balcony doors are slightly open, and I roll my eyes. This keeps happening to me. These damn balcony doors. Between the balcony and front doors being open, I'm surprised that all of my belongings aren't completely gone.

"Don't worry about it, Spence," I tell him, dramatically flipping the lock on my front door so we can both hear the clicking noise and then padding across my apartment to flip the lock on the balcony door. Honestly though, my hands are trembling as I touch the knobs. Why are my door continuously unlocked? I try to brush it off for Spencer's sake. "My friends were here when I left to pick you up and I'm sure they forgot to close and lock everything. It's fine. It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

Spencer nods and rubs his eyes, then begins to speak through a loud yawn. "You should yell at your friends."

It's just another moment of the old Spencer shining through the armor that the new Spencer is wearing. This exhausted and bleary and witty version of my boyfriend is who I have embedded in my brain, not the version who yells at me and throws books at walls and jumps away from my touch. I wish I could frame this moment and hang it on the wall.

"Come on," I wave him towards the kitchen and he follows me blindly, falling into a barstool at the island, leaning his elbows against the granite. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up and his forearms are far too distracting for anyone's good, and I have to tear my eyes away from him before I get carried away. I'm just too deprived of sex and satisfaction that maybe any intimate sight of Spencer will get me going. Even if it's his hands, or his forearms, or his fingers-- oh god, look away.

"Is there anything specific you want?" I take a glance through my fridge at the ingredients I have before turning back to him. His hands are on his cheeks now, distorting his face in that same adorable way it was in the car. "I'll make you whatever you're feeling."

"Just something, um," he speaks quietly, "easy. Pancakes, or something."

"Sure, I can do that," I reach into the cupboard and pull out the pancake mix, retrieving a bowl and a skillet.

"I'm gonna go put a record on," Spencer drags himself out of his chair and into the living room and I can hear him rummaging through the mess in there.

He's utterly exhausted. I've seen him tired after cases, but never liked this. He can barely even speak a full sentence or walk in a straight line. So I combine ingredients quickly, hoping that the stove warms up at lightning speed so I can cook these pancakes as fast as possible. I want to get Spencer food, and then into a shower, and then into bed. I couldn't care less about my needs. I just can't bear seeing him dragging himself around like this anymore.

My ears perk up when the record scratches and then the music starts, and State of Grace by Taylor Swift starts playing. I watch Spencer come back in and sit down again, his eyes closed as he absorbs the music. I expected him to put on one of the many classical records I have, like Mozart or Beethoven or Brahms. But no, he put on Taylor Swift. I choose not to comment on the music choice and instead, I pour the batter on the hot skillet.

It's only five minutes before I have a stack of pancakes and I've run out of batter. I turn off the burner and divide up the pancakes onto two plates, grabbing two forks and the maple syrup from the fridge. Spencer gives me a tiny smile as he reaches for his plate, digging in without even waiting for the syrup.

I drizzle a fair amount of syrup on my own pancakes and then pick up my fork, about to eat my first meal in twenty-four hours, but then I look at Spencer. He's scarfing down his food like his life depends on it, and I wonder if he's even chewing it at all. His head is bowed all the way down, nose almost touching the pancake stack as he snakes his fork under his chin, and his free hand is on the table with his fingers spread, and before I can blink again, he's halfway through his plate.

"Hey, hey, Spence," I reach my hand out for him, but he doesn't react. This is what happened when he threw the book. He got in his head, then I touched him, and he freaked out. I can't let that happen again. So I sit up on my knees and lean toward him, placing my hands flat against the table so, again, he can see that I don't plan on touching him or using them against him. "Spencer, look at me," he digs his fork into the pancake but his hand falters, slowing down. "Eyes up here, dove."

Spencer's eyes slowly travel up until they lock with mine, and they hold the same panicked qualities that they did post-book-throwing. I offer him a smile, but he doesn't give one back, not that I expected him to.

"Spencer," I speak slowly and calmly, "nobody's here. It's just you and me. You can slow down. You have all the time in the world to eat," Spencer takes a labored breath through his nose and shakes his head, closing his eyes. "I promise, dove, and you know I don't break my promises. You can slow down, you can just be with me. You're with me, and that's it."

"It's just--" he hangs his head and then opens his eyes, staring at his half-empty plate, "sitting like this. It feels-- it feels like-- it just-- it's--"

For some reason, I understand what he can't say. From how he's sitting in such a defensive and protected position and now he's saying that there's a problem with how he's sitting, it makes sense to me. Somehow, sitting like his makes him think of sitting and eating in prison and having to, I don't know, protect his food, maybe. I don't know much of anything about prison but I didn't think that it would change the way he eats meals.

"Okay, okay," I cut off his stuttering, nodding softly so I can seem as understanding as possible. "Come on then," I pull back my hands and grab my plate, sliding off the barstool and pressing my back against the kitchen cabinets, slowly sliding down. "How about we sit on the floor? Would that be okay?"

Spencer stares at me sliding onto the floor and it takes him quite a while to grab onto his plate and join me. He slides down beside me and extends his legs in front of him, setting his plate on his lap. He takes a long, deep breath and starts slicing into his pancakes again, much slower this time.

"Is this better?" I ask softly. "You can tell me if it's not because we could move somewhere else," I start to cut into my own food again, keeping my eyes on him.

"Yeah," he murmurs, and then he slumps down a little bit more so he can rest his head on my shoulder. Spencer is eating like a snail now, moving his hand so slowly that I have to keep looking down to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep on my shoulder. We just eat in tense silence, and as badly as I want to touch him and comfort him and smother him in love like I imagined I would be by now, I get the feeling that he would hate that and it would overwhelm him.

Not surprisingly, Spencer finishes his pancakes before me and gently places his fork down on his plate, setting his trembling hands flat on his lap. I expect Spencer to get up and discard his plate in the sink or the dishwasher and then head upstairs and jump in a shower, but he doesn't move. He stays right beside me with his head on my shoulder so I start to pick up my eating pace so we can get going. If he's not going to move without me then I don't want to make him sit here forever.

"Can I take your plate for you?" I whisper once I've finally finished my pancakes. The sun has fully risen and is blaring through the windows, and it feels so twisted to be so exhausted, so early in the morning.

Spencer nods, but he doesn't offer the plate up to me. I pick it up off his lap gingerly and wait for Spencer to lift his head before standing, putting them in the sink to deal with later. I turn back to Spencer, who's still on the floor, and hold my hands out to him to help him up. He looks at my feet first, and then incredibly slowly drags his eyes up my body until his eyes lock with mine. He seems so distant. He seems so far away and so far gone. His eyes are glossed over and his movements are like that of a sloth, starkly contrasting his quick actions just a few minutes before.

I very gently thrust my hands forward again, wiggling my fingers in his direction to get his attention. "Let's go get you in a shower, okay? I bet it'll make you feel a lot better."

Spencer looks up at me with a heartbreaking gaze, as if he can't even see me. As if he's staring right through me. As if he can't even see me at all. But then he pushes himself up by his lonesome and runs his hands down his face.

"Um," he breathes, his voice so low that I barely hear it, "thank you for-- you know, for the food," He keeps his eyes down on the floor, his body turned slightly away from me as if he's cowering from my touch again.

"No need to thank me, love. But let's just head upstairs and get you into a shower, okay?" I wave him out of the kitchen and he slumps off towards the stairs.

I watch him go, and once he gets on the first step, I go into the living room to shut off the record that Spencer has put on. Taylor Swift, huh? I have to make a mental note to ask Spencer about that when we're better rested.

Once I've put the record away, I follow Spencer up the stairs and I find him rummaging through my closet, already having dumped out all the items from his go-bag on the bed. His back is turned to me, too focused on finding clothes in my closet. I go to the pile of clothes and separate the work clothes from his pajamas, making two separate sections for him and trying to smooth out wrinkles from the fabrics.

"Sweets," even when I speak, he doesn't acknowledge my presence, "what are you looking for in there? I know you've got some clothes in there but you've got two whole sets of pajamas right here. They're clean, I've cleaned these clothes."

"I need a white tee-shirt," Spencer tells me and his voice is sharper now. It's not quiet and timid like in the kitchen. It's the exact opposite of the man that was just in my apartment a moment ago.

"Why?" I look down at the pair of pajama pants and the crew neck on the bed in front of me, right next to a different pair of pajamas, a matching silk set that Spencer commonly wears to sleep. Why isn't this good enough for him? If anything, this will keep him more comfortable during bed than just a tee-shirt. "There's two pajama sets right here for you that--"

"I need a white tee shirt, okay?!" Spencer snaps, turning his head to me, but still never looking me in the eye. "I need to wear a white tee-shirt to bed!"

I let out a shaky breath at the venom dripping from his mouth, reaching for the clothes in front of me and just grasping them in my hand, grasping for something to ground me. Although, maybe I'm not the one who needs the grounding right now.

I hear Spencer sigh behind me as he finds a white tee-shirt, and when he comes to the bed beside me, he takes a pair of pajama pants and boxers out of my hands. I move around him to put the other clothes back into his go bag, setting it in the corner of the room and then sifting through my closet for a crew neck and a pair of shorts. I do everything in my power to forgive and forget the moment that is making my hands tremble and my head dizzy. Spencer never yells. And he definitely never yells at me.

I hear the bathroom door open as I put my clothes onto the bed and pull off my tank top, but when I don't hear the water turn on, I turn to check on Spencer. He's still standing in the doorway, clutching his clothes in his hands and staring at the shower door.

"Spence?" He jumps when I speak his name as if he momentarily forgot that I was in the same room as him. And when he turns to me, he's back to the man he was in the kitchen. Quiet, timid, desperate. His eyes are pleading for me, and I feel helpless knowing I don't know exactly how to help him. I disregard my clothes and walk toward him, but don't make an effort to touch him. "Love, you can shower, it's okay. You'll feel much better when you wash off all the sweat and grossness of the--" I pause, wanting to say one certain word but knowing I shouldn't. I settle with a safer word, "day."

Spencer pouts his pretty lips and his hands tighten around the pile of clothes in his hands. "Could you-- um-- could you come with me? I don't wanna be alone right now," and perhaps it seems like a rude comparison, but he looks like a small child. He looks like a child who's woken up from a nightmare, clutching his pillow to his chest, asking his mom to come to his room to scare away the monster under his bed. But I'll never be able to scare away the monster under Spencer's bed. We both know that and we both seem to be ignoring it. For now, we'll pretend that I can remedy every issue in the world and continue on with our day.

I toss my tank top into the hamper across the room and then walk over to Spencer, leaning against the doorframe across from him. "Are you gonna be comfortable with that, dove?"

Spencer nods quickly, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "I'll be okay. I really don't wanna be alone. I want you."

I glance at the shower and then back at Spencer with his greasy hair and his half-lidded eyes and his hunched shoulders, and I nod. If he gets uncomfortable again, I'll just get out. He needs a shower more than me anyway, and if I need to get out of the shower because he doesn't want me touching him, then it's not the end of the world. Spencer breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the bathroom, setting his clothes on the sink counter. I grab two towels from the closet and start the shower, leaving the door open a crack so the steam can escape.

Spencer strips off his clothes before I do and, holy shit, I almost gasp. Now, for the millionth time, I have no idea what prison is like. I only know tiny bits of what Spencer went through, like getting beat up and eventually stabbing himself and getting thrown into solitary confinement. I don't know what he did during the time that he was stuck in his cell by himself, or what he did to pass the time when he wasn't in his cell. Honestly, I don't really know what he did at all in prison.

But holy shit. Spencer's arms are far more toned than I remember them to be and his stomach is too, and if Derek Morgan were here, I'd bet good money that he would be impressed. Even Spencer's calves and quads look more toned than before, and every time he moves, every one of his muscles flexes in the most delicious and sexy way. How much did he work out in prison? Did he work out every second of every day? I wasn't expecting this type of transformation from him, but he's been full of surprises. And after a moment of staring, I wonder if this is a good change or not.

"Why are you staring?" Spencer has just reached for the waistband of his boxers but paused when he saw me standing still and staring, then his hands stilled.

"Um," I have to physically jerk my head to the side to break my gaze and force my eye line up to his pupils, "sorry, I was just-- you--"

"I what?" Spencer retorts, and thankfully, he doesn't sound angry. He sounds genuinely curious.

"You just look different. More, you know, muscular," I try to choose my words carefully because I don't want to offend him. I don't want to make it seem like I hate his body now, or that I hated his body before prison because neither is the case. I could never hate his body. I'm not with him for his body. His body is beautiful regardless. This is just such a difference from what I'm used to seeing from my boyfriend. This is just another part of him that has been taken away from him. His soft body is gone as if he has morphed himself into an intimidating alpha male. I never wanted an alpha male. I've only ever wanted my Spencer.

"I worked out a lot," Spencer mumbles vaguely. He barely tells me any details about prison. The most he told me was while we were eating. And even still, he didn't give me specifics during dinner. He left me to guess exactly what was wrong. It's all been vague so far. I'm not sure if that's because he's protecting me or because he just can't bring himself to talk about it yet.

"Let's get in the shower so we can get some sleep," I want to nudge him towards the open shower curtain and the warm, streaming water. But Spencer moves on his own, shuffling towards the shower and quickly discarding his boxers.

He seems hesitant to get into the water at first, just standing at the edge of the tub and letting the water hit his toes first. Spencer stares at the stream of water, reaching his foot out a bit more to get his ankle and shin wet. I watch him carefully for a moment, just to make sure he doesn't freak out like he has a few times already today.

Spencer's head turns to me and he gives me a pleading look, his eyebrows scrunched up and his bottom lip between his teeth. He's clearly keeping tears at bay, trying to prevent his chin from quivering. "Lia," he stammers, but doesn't say anything else. A single tear falls down his cheek.

I quickly pull off my undergarments and move the shower door back a little bit more, stepping into the tub so I'm in the stream of water. I hold my hands out for him, and this time, he actually grabs onto them. I draw him closer to me. Not closer to the stream of water, but just closer to my body.

"It's just water, Spence," I tip my head back and wet my mane of curls, matting them down to my head. "It actually feels really good."

"It's just," Spencer shuffles just a little bit closer to me. The tips of his toes touch mine, his whole body flinching when a droplet of water ricochets off of me and hits his chest, "the showers were always cold."

"Oh," I turn and look at the knobs behind me that control the water temperature, "I can make it cold if you want. It's not a big deal if--"

"No, no, I don't want that," he shakes his head, clutching my hands tightly in his. "I don't wanna take another cold shower. It just feels weird. I'm not used to it."

I scrunch up my nose, unlacing our hands and tracing my fingertips up his forearms. I wonder if I should even let myself touch his biceps because if I do, I might completely lose my cool and want to jump his bones. Clearly, he's not ready for sex or any kind of physical intimacy. I didn't even expect us to be showering together any time soon. "I don't like cold showers, either. You know that. Do you wanna get under the water?"

Spencer nods and grabs my hands again, switching our spots so he's directly under the stream. I don't let go of him as he sighs of relief, the water falling over his face and making his hair stick to his forehead. He closes his eyes, dropping his shoulders down. This is, by far, the most relaxed I've seen him all day. He seemed to be relaxed in the car, but now, he has completely let his guard down for the first time. It's a beautiful sight, truly. It's beautiful to see him running his hands through his hair and reaching for his shampoo and fluttering his eyelids. He's always been so beautiful.

I shave my legs while Spencer washes his body, and he spends quite a lot of time doing so. I'm not surprised that he wants to wash every germ off his body, I'd expected that much. And we keep in silence, just washing away the stress and drama and hardships of the last few months. I wish that a simple shower could wash away all the pain that we've been cursed with, but I know that this pain may never go away. The pain of this time will always linger, no matter how hard we try to eradicate it.

"Are you gonna shave?" I ask, switching places one more time with Spencer so I could wash my face.

"You said you liked it so--"

"Yeah, but it's your face. If you wanna shave, then shave. Don't let me stop you," I wipe away the soap from my eyes and smile at Spencer, gesturing to where his razor still sits along the wall.

Spencer runs his hands over his face, feeling his mustache and beard on his fingertips. "I'll keep it for now. Maybe tomorrow I'll clean it up a little but I don't wanna deal with it today."

"Well let's go get some sleep, okay?" I turn around and shut off the water, wringing out my hair so it doesn't drip onto the floor. Spencer gets out and quickly wraps himself in a towel, and when I step out a moment after him, he hands my towel to me. "Thanks."

I head out of the bathroom and reach for my clothes, pulling on a pair of underwear and one of Spencer's old tee-shirts. I dry off my hair a little bit and sit on the edge of the bed, putting lotion on my legs and keeping my eyes on the bathroom door for when Spencer eventually comes out.

He takes forever to get dressed, but when he does, he's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white tee-shirt, his hair soaked and hanging over his forehead. He drops his towel in the hamper and then he turns on his heel to join me in bed, but freezes in his spot when he sees my towel on the floor. He quickly picks it up off the floor and puts it into the hamper, then he scans the floor of the room for anything else that could be out of place.

"Babe?" I close off the lid on my bottle of lotion and put it away, watching him put a pair of my shoes into the closet and then jam the door closed. "Spencer, if you really wanna clean, do it when you can actually keep your eyes open. Come get some sleep, please."

Spencer lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands drop from the closet handle, and then they smooth through his hair. He nods silently, and his toes drag against the carpet as he brings himself towards the bed.

He falls onto his side, pulling back the duvet and slipping under, letting out a sound close to a moan as his body sinks into the bed. His head falls onto the pillow and he moans louder, his body wiggling under the covers. I smile at his pure and unfiltered ecstasy and pleasure, doing the same and slipping under the duvet with him.

I keep a bit of distance between us though. Usually, I'd slide my leg through his and wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest and get as close to him as I possibly can. But he's so caught up in the familiarity and comfortability of my bed that I don't want to overwhelm him by touching him. I want him to enjoy his first time in a proper bed in months and not worry about my hands on his skin.

I let out a roaring yawn, rolling onto my side to face Spencer. Now that I'm laying in bed, my exhaustion is setting in yet again. I pull the duvet up to my chin and close my eyes, trying to let myself drift off to sleep.

I'm just about to dip into dreamland when I feel Spencer shift beside me, facing me. I try to ignore it, try to bring myself closer to sleep, try to let us both get the rest that we so desperately need. But I can sense Spencer's gaze on me, and as hard as I try to, I can't ignore it. I just want him to go to sleep. I want him to sleep so he can regenerate and hopefully feel better whenever it is that we wake up. But my forehead is burning with his stare and I can't stop feeling it. Clearly, something is affecting him and that's why he hasn't tried to sleep yet.

To my surprise, Spencer's voice is the one to break through the silence. "Baby?" He's shaky. He's trembling. He's unsure.

I open my eyes, seeing tears pouring down his cheeks and his hand in midair, just a few inches in front of my face. "Spencer," I breathe, watching his hand drops onto the bed between us. "What's wrong?" Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, and his hand clutches the bed sheet until his knuckles turn white. He breathes in harshly through his nose and he draws his knees up to his chest, curling into a tiny ball. "Dove, talk to me."

Spencer's other hand comes down to the bed to join his other, squeezing so tightly that I fear he might rip a hole in the fabric. I see his arms start to shake with the force he's using to hold the bedsheet, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the pillow. He hiccups, but not too loud. Barely loud enough for me to hear. "Lia," he sobs, completely breaking down right before my eyes, "please hold me."

I want to jump his bones. I want to get on top of him and smother him in love and affection and kisses. I want to give him everything I know we've both been craving for months. I want to give him exactly what he's asking for. But I've spent most of my day doing what I can to not overwhelm him and that's not going to change now.

I debate for a moment on how I should touch him first. Should I wipe his tears? Should I hold his hand? Should I wrap my arm around his waist? Should I drag my fingers along his arm? What could I do that won't freak him out?

But then I notice, again, that his eyes are closed. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's not looking at me. I remember how he reacted in the round table room when I touched him when he couldn't see it coming. He jumped and cowered away from me. He didn't take well to getting touched without seeing it.

"Spencer," I whisper, "open your eyes." His eyebrows scrunch up at my request but he doesn't follow it. "Come on, baby, I wanna see your pretty eyes. I haven't been able to see them in so long. Open your eyes for me," I watch Spencer carefully as he holds his breath, forcing his eyelids open, releasing more tears. "There you go, Spence. Thank you, lovey. So pretty. Your eyes are so pretty."

I raise my hand and let it linger in the air for a moment before reaching towards Spencer's face. I drag my fingers along his jawline then lay my hand flat against his cheek. Spencer's lips part when he lets out a shaky sigh, nuzzling his cheek against the palm of my hand. I give him a moment to revel in this type of contact, just staring into his eyes and gauging his reaction. He isn't cowering away and he hasn't screamed at me yet, so I take that as a good sign.

I bring my other hand forward and press my fingers against the back of his hand, feeling him already start to ease his grip. I can't attest for his other hand, but he flattens his hand against the bed, allowing me to lock our fingers together in an awkward, backwards handhold.

"I've got you," I whisper, swiping my thumb across his cheeks to rid his skin of stinging tears. His eyes are locked on mine and he doesn't dare to avert his gaze from my blue eyes that I know he loves so much.

Spencer sucks in a breath and tugs on my hand, wanting me even closer. So I wiggle my hips to diminish the gap between us, leaving some space still. I move my head so we're sharing a pillow, the same pillow that I used to clutch when I was missing Spencer so intensely that I needed to smell his cologne and remember that he would come home to me soon.

"It hurts," he slurs, and his eyelids are so heavy that he can barely keep them open. But he fights with all his strength against the sleep that wants to suck him in, sticking his eyes to me. His eyes plead for help, a type of help that I don't know if I can provide.

"Oh, my baby," I coo, bringing my face right in front of him, "you're safe. You're home. You don't have to go back to that horrible place again. You're right here and you can rest, okay? It's okay to rest now."

I feel him moving under the sheets and it takes everything in me to not look at what he's doing. But I feel his legs touching mine, and then one of his slips between mine a moment later. Even though he initiated this contact, I wait, yet again, for his reaction. His face doesn't change.

"Can I touch you some more?" Spencer nods quickly, his facial hair scratching my palm. "Can I hug you?" He nods again, and with this obvious consent, I almost sigh of relief.

I slide my hand down Spencer's neck, then down his arm, and to his stomach. I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling my body forward so I'm flush against him. With this, he finally lets his eyelids flutter closed, lips parted as he breathes heavily. His skin feels so warm against mine and I can already feel beads of sweat collecting at my hairline, but I ignore their presence.

"Go to sleep," I murmur, bringing our entwined hands up to the pillow between our faces. "I'm here right now, I'm gonna be here when you wake up, I'm gonna be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the next day, and every day after that. I'm not going anywhere. And if you need me then don't hesitate to wake me up. But I need you to get some sleep, okay? Can you do that for me?" Spencer nods yet again, and he flips his hand around so we can properly hold hands. I smile at his responsiveness. "Let me hear you say it, doll."

Spencer nuzzles his cheek against the pillow, scooting a bit closer to me. "I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Good," I slip my hand under his tee shirt and rest it flat against his hot skin, earning a small gasp from him, but I don't do any more than that. "I'm right here, baby boy. I'm not gonna let go of your hand and I'm not gonna get out of bed before you. I'll be right here the whole time. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"I love you," Spencer whispers but his words are barely coherent as his exhaustion becomes too much to handle. His lips are barely moving and his grip on my hand, and on the sheets, are loosening.

"I love you too, dove."

I watch him closely until I know, for sure, that he's fallen asleep. I wouldn't want his eyes to pop open again and for him to panic. But I keep my promise and I don't let go of his hand, or move my hand from in his shirt, or get out of bed. I just close my eyes and drift off into the most restless sleep I've had yet.

TAGLIST

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[thejoshuaglenn-blog]

You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.

[lovemalecforever]

Chapter 19

Let me confine you in my arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Let me confine you in my arms, Calming the violence of your storms, Absorbing it in the depth of my soul, Gathering you up and making you whole.

Holding you tightly when we get closer, Letting you cry over my shoulder, Gently caressing and kissing you in parts, Slowly mending your broken heart.

©scrawled_dreams

[A/N: I thought this poem fits perfectly for Malec in this story, so I posted it here. This is my original under the pen name scrawled_dreams.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The warm golden rays of sunlight fell over Alec's eyes through the crack of the curtains, making him stir in sleep. The room was dimly lit with the golden glow of the rays filtering into the room. The crystal particles of dust were dancing in mid-air.

Alec's eyelashes fluttered and he woke up, then quickly covered his eyes, blocking the bright rays reaching into his eyes. He stirred, then woke up properly, only then he noticed his legs were intertwined with his husband's, his arm lay protectively over his waist in a tight grip and he was big spooning his sweet warlock. He smiled and left feather-soft kisses on his shoulder and nape of the neck, making sure not to disturb his sleeping beauty. He smoothly untangled them, so as not to disturb his husband, stood up and left for the bathroom. When he came out, his husband was still sound asleep so he decided to make breakfast for them.

He left for the kitchen and quickly made a breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs with bacon, bread toast, two mini pancakes, a bowl of fruit, a glass of orange juice for Magnus, and strong black coffee for himself. He put everything on a tray then left for his bedroom.

When he opened the bedroom door he saw his husband turning and tossing around on the bed, his hands moving around on the empty sheets like he was trying to grab something and he was mumbling something in his sleep. He walked towards the bed, kept the tray on the side table, and sat on the bed. From up close he was able to listen to what his warlock was mumbling in his sleep.

"Al... Alexander.. don... don't leave me, please. I.. won't.. won't be.. able to.. live.. with.. without you. I.. I'm sorry, for... forgive me, don't... don't leave me." He kept mumbling the same thing again and again.

Alec's heart sank in his chest, his wings threatening to come out and wrap Magnus in it. He controlled the urge as it was not the right time for that. Instead, he sat beside him and started running his fingers through his hair in a soothing manner, caressing him gently and softly, and gave him a feather-light kiss on his temple and forehead. The warlock relaxed under his touch and rested his hand on his lap.

"Wake up, Magnus. I've made breakfast for you." He nudged him gently.

"Mm.. fi.. minit..." Alec chuckled at his adorableness.

"Wake up love. You can sleep later, I have the whole day with you today." He softly kissed him on the tip of the nose.

That's when Magnus' eyes shot up, making him fully awake. "Alexander?" He shifted and sat up on the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his shadowhunter with a glint.

"Morning, love!" He tucked the locks of his messy hairs falling on his temples behind his ears and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

As soon as Alec's lips touched Magnus, the realization of the recent happenings dawned on him, and just like that, the glint in his eyes was gone. The guilt overpowering all his other emotions.

"Mags, what's wrong?"

"I.. Alexander... I.." He stuttered, looking anywhere but him.

"Magnus, if this is about whatever that heartless bloodsucking vampire did to you, you don't have to worry, okay. I'll understand if you don't want to tell me what happened or want to take your time, but just know that she'll never be able to cause a strain in our relationship. I love you, Magnus Lightwood Bane, nothing can change that." He caressed his cheeks and pecked him on the temple.

Magnus didn't know why, but the gentle touch and his reassuring words had made him relax like everything will be normal between them the way it used to be before that horrible day a month ago. He nodded and smiled. "I'm sorry, Alexander. I just, these three days were horrible without you. Please don't leave like that ever again, I... I know I'm being selfish, but I just can't, I love you, Alexander."

"Hey, I'm never leaving you again, Magnus. You can be selfish about that. Now, breakfast is waiting for you." He took the tray from the table and kept it between them. Magnus warmed the breakfast with the flick of his hands, earning a sweet kiss on his cheek from his husband.

"Perks of having a warlock husband." Alec grinned.

"Why don't you have work today?" Magnus asked with a mouthful of scrambled eggs and bacon.

"I do, I told Jia that I'll be working from home today, I wanted to spend time with my husband. I know I've been busy lately, and I wanted to make it up to you for that."

Magnus looked at his shadowhunter, guilt washing over him once again. 'How could I? How am I ever gonna tell you the truths, about thinking of breaking our marriage, about the fear of losing you, about my feelings, about.. about what happened with Camille? I can't lose you, never ever again.' he thought.

"Then I should be one hell of a lucky man! I got my man for a whole day to myself, what are we gonna do about it?" He asked playfully, pushing away his guilt, much to his own obliviousness that he had become an open book to his husband in the past five years.

"Let me guess, lots of cuddles and complete bed rest for you. And don't you dare think about anything else! You're not in perfect shape, so let me just take care of you today. Sounds like a plan?"

Magnus pouted but eventually agreed. He just wanted to be in his shadowhunter's arms, nothing more. They finished their breakfast in silence, stealing kisses in between or more like Alec showering his warlock with kisses and making up for his absence.

After breakfast, they cleaned the whole apartment together, then they both enjoyed a calming bubble bath, with Alec carefully cleaning and massaging the warlock, making him a jelly under his touch. After they were done, they changed into comfortable clothing and Alec carried his husband into bed bridal style, laying him gently on it. Then he took his Tab and sat on the bed on his side, doing his work from it. Magnus laid his head on his husband's lap and nuzzled into him, enjoying the soft touch of the shadowhunter's fingers through his wet hair and on his scalp. Not long after, he fell asleep on his lap.

Alec looked down at the warlock who was sleeping peacefully on his lap, his mind wandering to the possibilities of what he had gone through in his absence. He cursed himself for not being there for him, then leaned down and kissed him on top of his head, and went back to work.

______________________________

Magnus woke up to a delicious smell of food invading his senses. He blinked away his sleep and sat on the bed. That's when he realized that there was a large tray of food kept on the bed and his husband was nowhere to be seen. "Alexander?" He called softly.

"Coming!" He heard his voice, then soon Alec entered the room with a tray that had a large bowl in it. Magnus looked at him with confusion. "Chicken soup, for you."

Magnus looked at him then at the tray kept on the bed which had whole-wheat pita stuffed with diced chicken, black bean spread, spinach, and red peppers with minted brown rice. His heart melted to the highest degree. "Alexander, you don't have to do all this, I could have summoned-"

"Shut up and enjoy the food. You know I'm not gonna make all this again, right?"

Magnus looked at him with puppy eyes and pouted, he knew really well he gets the special treatment from his shadowhunter rarely and he always enjoyed it. Mostly they either ordered takeouts, summoned food, or Magnus was the one to make lunch and dinner.

Alec kissed his pouting husband, then kept the tray on the bed and started serving them both. Magnus crawled towards him and sat on his lap, literally. Alec sighed and shook his head.

"Feed me?" Magnus asked, or more precisely stated.

"Really Mags!"

"Pretty please." He looked at him with puppy eyes.

"You're impossible, love." He shook his head and kissed the tip of his nose.

They ate their lunch in comfortable silence with Alec feeding the grown-up child sitting on his lap. He wondered if he would ever be able to see this side of Magnus ever again. It was cute and annoying at the same time. They had eaten half of their lunch when Magnus's phone buzzed loudly, interrupting their cute moment.

"Ignore that!" Alec said sternly.

"That could be important, Alexander." He replied, chewing the mouthful of minted rice his husband fed him.

Just when Alec was about to reply, the phone buzzed again.

"Let me check it." He said as he stood up from his lap and went to the side table situated near his side of the bed on which his phone was kept. Just when he was about to pick up his phone, it buzzed again. He sighed then checked the messages, it was from an unknown number.

> Hey, love. Long time no see.

>I want to meet you, Magnus. I know you miss me.

>Meet me at the same club in Germany, I'm waiting for you.

Magnus gulped, his blood boiled reading the messages. 'How dare she!' he thought to himself.

"Magnus? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's a client, just a minute." He quickly typed back a reply.

To hell with you, Camille Belcourt. I don't care how you got my number. I'm not interested in meeting you, find yourself a new source for enjoyment, or rot in hell. I don't give a damn.<

>Oh, Magnus. I thought you enjoyed our last meeting. Too bad, I still want to meet you.

Go to hell, Camille. I'm not coming. Oh, sorry I forgot, you are the definition of hell.<

>You will, my love. Be here in ten minutes, or I'll feed on every mundane present in this bar and then convert them into a vampire.

You wouldn't.<

> You know me, Magnus. You know I will. Nine minutes remaining.

Magnus gulped, he knew if he wouldn't be there, she would feed on innocent mundanes, and there would be plenty of mundanes there. That bar was just like his Pandemonium, open for everyone. He waved his hands and quickly dressed.

"Magnus, what the hell? You're not going anywhere. Come back here right now." Alec stated when he saw him dressed up and ready to leave.

"Alexander, I'm sorry, but this is important. I need to be there."

"Magnus -"

"Alexander, I promise, I'll be fine, okay. I'll be back soon."

Alec sighed but nodded. Magnus quickly opened the portal and stepped into it.

__________________________________

Magnus stepped out of the portal in front of the bar. He quickly walked inside and scanned the bar. To his relief everyone was safe.

"Oh, my love. Always so protective and caring. Easy to lure to out, isn't it?" She came from behind and traced her fingers on his back and shoulders.

Magnus screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. "What do you want?" He asked coldly.

"Isn't that obvious, Magnus? I want you. I want us to be together again." She turned him towards herself and traced her pointed nails on his face.

Magnus shoved her hands away and looked at her with disgust. "It's never happening."

"You think that mortal will be able to keep you happy, huh? The moment he'll die, you'll come back running to me, like always. I'm your only true love, Magnus. I'll make you happy."

"Never. Happening." He spat.

That offended her, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she looked at him directly in the eyes. The pupils of her eyes became larger and wider, nearly touching the base of the iris, and the color became darker. "You know you want me, Magnus. You love me and only me. You want to explore every part of my body. Touch me everywhere. Touch me, Magnus. Kiss me."

"I... I want you." His lips moved automatically. His hands snaked around her waist against his will and held her tightly. He didn't want to do any of it, but his body wasn't listening to him.

She smiled maliciously between the kisses. Her hands rubbed against his chest, slowly undoing his jacket and opening his shirt's button.

Magnus felt disgusted. It felt really wrong but he was not in control of his body. They were working on their own accord. He wasn't able to stop himself and whatever was happening was getting more heated. He felt tears forming in the back of his eyes. Then something rang in his brain. 'I love you Magnus Lightwood Bane.'  the voice, his shadowhunter's voice. 'I am and will always be your loving husband.'  This time he was able to focus on his powers, he centered it on his hands and sent a huge shockwave in her body.

As soon as Camille felt the shockwave, she jumped and removed herself from his grasp, having a look of pure vengeance on her face.

"The hell, Camille Belcourt!? You encanto'd me. How low could you go?" His voice was dripping with hatred.

"How were you able to break it? You-"

Before she could complete it, Magnus put a freezing spell on her and ran out of the bar. He quickly opened the portal and ran into it before the spell wore off and Camille followed him.

_________________________________

The portal opened up in his bedroom, and he ran out of it. He almost stumbled and was about to fall when a strong pair of arms caught him.

"Magnus! Are you okay? What happened?" Alec looked at his husband with wide eyes. His jacket was almost falling off, a few of the shirt's buttons were undone, his hair was slightly messy and he had tears in his eyes.

"Mags? What happened?"

Before Magnus could answer, they heard a low whistling of windows from their living room.

"What was that?"

"Probably the wind. You didn't answer? What happened? Are you alright?" He quickly changed the subject. From the corner of his eyes, he saw an emerald blue blur vanishing into the clouds and sighed with relief.

"A.. I.." He looked everywhere but his husband. This was too much for him to keep to himself. He cursed himself for falling for her trap.

Alec cupped his cheeks and rubbed his thumbs gently below his eyes. "Mags." He said softly.

"A.. I.. Alexander, it.. it was Camille."

Alec's eyes widened at that. "What? Magnus why-"

"Th... the client, she was encanto'd. Camille was there already when I reached there. She.. she encanto'd me too, and.. and... I.. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He couldn't keep it inside anymore, he fell in his shadowhunter's arms and started crying uncontrollably.

Alec took in his husband's state and the realization hit him. He seethed with anger and swore to himself that she'd pay for her doings.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Alexander. Fo... forgive me. I.. I'm sorry." He managed to say between the sobs.

Alec held him tightly in his arms. "Shh, shh, it's okay, love, it's okay. You have nothing to apologize for. You didn't do anything. I'm not even mad at you. Don't say sorry for something you couldn't control. You said yourself she encanto'd you. Don't blame yourself, love." He kept holding him until his tears dried down, then left feather-soft kisses on his eyelids.

When Magnus fluttered his bloodshot eyes open and looked at his husband, he saw only pure love in his eyes. 'What have I done to deserve you? How am I ever gonna tell you the truth?' he thought to himself.

"You're not mad at me? If I'd never left, this could have been avoided. You told me to stay but I..." He trailed off and sniffed.

"Magnus, I'm not mad and don't think like that, okay? You didn't know. Let's not discuss this anymore. Hmm?"

"Okay." He whispered softly.

For the rest of the day, Magnus spent clinging to his shadowhunter for dear life. He was far too gone to pretend to be strong and resilient. They ordered takeout for dinner, this time Magnus didn't need to ask to be fed, Alec did it himself. He then carried his warlock to the bedroom in bridal style and changed him into his burgundy silk robe, then put him on the bed and wrapped himself around his warlock.

"Why do you love me so much, Alexander?" He whispered to himself, but to his dismay, his husband heard him.

"What kind of question is that, love?"

"What? I.. you.. heard it?"

"Hey." He rubbed his nose gently against his neck then kissed him softly at the nape of his neck. "Yes, I heard it. And to answer your question, I love you so much because you're wise, you're generous, you're brave, you're incredible, there's always a spark in you which lights up everything around you, you always manage to take my breath away, you always manage to make my heart beat faster, you always manage to make me love myself when I'm at my weakest, you always care for others like your own, you have the purest heart. You're the best thing that happened to me, Magnus Lightwood Bane. I can list a thousand more things if you want." He left feather-light kisses on his shoulder with each thing he said then finally he kissed him on top of his head.

A soft smile played on Magnus' lips listening to his husband's words. "I'm speechless, Alexander. Thank you."

"Sleep now, love. You need it. I love you."

"Love you too."

With that they drifted off to sleep, Alec's arms protectively wrapped around his husband, holding him in a tight yet gentle embrace.

[stanbillyhargrove]

Ghosts chp 19

Billy x Katrina

A/N: this is a multi chapter series that will contain smut, angst, fluff, substance abuse

Billy's POV

Sirens blared as we sped down the road away from the cabin. I was tucked the side of the ambulance, out of the way of the EMTs who were trying to stop Katrina's bleeding.

She had passed out for a few minutes but her eyes were fluttering open again, just a little before squeezing shut as tears started pouring down her cheeks.

Her chest shuddered as she sobbed, "Billy?"

I leaned forward so she could see me and laced our fingers together, squeezing tight, "I'm here, Katrina, it's gunna be okay."

"I'm scared," she choked, meeting my eyes.

"Hey," I murmured, "it's okay, I'm right here, babe."

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she whispered, "Baskin Robbins.."

"What?"

"Did you know...they have thirty one flavours?"

I stared at her, confused, and she choked on a wet laugh.

"I'm gunna die and I don't even know...which one's my favorite."

I smirked, shaking my head before tipping it into her hand, "no you won't. You're gunna be fine and I'll buy you more ice cream than you could ever eat, you hear me?"

I looked back up at her and noticed her eyes had closed again.

Katrina's POV

It hurts. My muscles feel like I just finished a marathon, my head is pounding. The light filtering through my eyelids is too bright, every noise too loud. Most of all, my heart hurts.

My heart aches for Olivia, losing the man she loved to gain a reaper in his place. Having her dreams of a happy life crushed in his bloody hands. She had her life poisoned and taken away by the person she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.

My heart hurts for Neil. For having been tortured, broken and molded into a shell of himself. He had been twisted so much that he no longer had the capacity to love. The things he wanted, a loving wife and kids, instead became heavy burdens.

And most of all, my heart burns for Billy. The boy who lost every parent he's known because of Neil's trauma. The boy who blamed himself for years, who's biggest fear in life is taking up that torch from his father instead of extinguishing the flames.

It hurts and I'm so exhausted.

I could hear Billy and Steve talking, could feel my head throbbed painfully to the sound.

"Too loud," I croaked.

"Katrina?" Billy asked, "are you awake?"

I could feel his hand slide around mine, squeezing gently.

"You're so loud," I mumbled.

Steve snorted, "good morning to you too. Is it actually you now?"

I opened my eyes a little, squinting at him and held up my middle finger, making them both bark out a laugh.

"Where are we?"

"In the hospital, you were pretty hurt," Steve answered, "do you remember what happened?"

I shook my head a little, "only pieces. I remember seeing him and then being in the house, bleeding and now I'm here."

"Neil," Billy grumbled, "do you still feel him with you?"

"I don't know...I'm just tired, everything hurts."

He leaned forward to press a kiss to my forehead, "okay, it's okay. I'll go find a doctor, see if they'll let you out of here, alright?"

"Thanks," I murmured.

He walked out, leaving me with Steve, who was eyeing me carefully.

"Why didn't you tell us something was wrong? We could have brought you to the girls."

I sighed, "I didn't realize, didn't know he would do that...that he could take over like that. I didn't think he'd hurt me..."

Steve's shoulders tightened a bit, "we had to tell the doctors you were attacked. They would have put you in psyche if we didn't and we need to watch you, make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else...we're taking you to Audrey, you'll be staying there for a while."

I swallowed thickly, nodding, "okay."

--

"You're kidding," Billy growled.

Audrey crossed her arms in front of her chest, "not even a little."

"Audrey, you can't just lock her in here," he argued, gesturing at the room behind him.

The room I'd been locked in before, in the basement of their house. The sparse, cold room that I'd woken up alone in after everything went wrong.

She scoffed, "so you'd rather her wander around not in control of her own body?"

"I'm right here," I mumbled.

Audrey looked towards me, "I'm sorry, Katrina, but we don't really have a choice. We don't want you or anyone else getting hurt."

I gave her a weak smile, "it's okay."

Billy clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together, but helped me shuffle to the bed. Helped me ease down, holding my arms tight so I didn't move too quickly and pull my stitches. He cupped my face after I was settled and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead, nose and finally my lips.

"Get some rest and heal up, okay? We still need to figure out which flavour at Baskin Robbins is your favorite," he smiled.

"What?"

He chuckled, "you don't remember? You were crying about ice cream in the ambulance."

I groaned, tipping my head backwards as my cheeks heated. He just laughed harder and kissed me again, mumbling about me being adorable.

--

I looked around, noticing little changes to the room since the last time I'd been locked in here. There were now plush fur and knitted blankets folded across the bed, a stack of books on the bedside table, even a little TV and a selection of movies. The girls had tried to make the room more comfortable, though no matter how many creature comforts you add, it still felt like being locked in a box.

The door opened and I looked over to see Riley with a tray of food in her hands.

"Dinner," she smiled, coming over to set the tray on the table beside my bed.

She held my hand and helped me slide up the bed, placing pillows behind me so I could sit up a little. The tray she placed in my lap was covered in food. Bowls of soup with steaming biscuits and glasses of iced tea, there was even a little plate of chocolate chip cookies.

"I know there's another person in my head but he doesn't need food, we share the same stomach," I joked.

She snorted, "I wanted to join you. If you want my company that is."

I smiled at her, "thanks."

We dug into our food, dunking buttery biscuits into hearty chicken soup and sipping sugary sweet iced tea until we were full.

"Did you make all that?"

Riley nodded, "I like to cook, takes my mind off things."

"If you teach me how to make those biscuits, I'll teach you how to make iced tea."

She laughed, "you didn't like it? I put a lot of effort stirring the powder into water."

I smirked, "that stuff is too sweet for me. I...my ex was from the south, she converted me."

Riley nodded, a small smile on her lips, "Steve told me about that, I'm sorry about what happened."

I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back tears, "thanks...at least I can still see her though."

"Do you still?"

I puffed out a breath, "I hope so...I haven't seen or felt anyone else since the spell, it's just been Neil."

"Right...is he, do you still...feel him?"

I shook my head, "no, maybe he's gone, maybe he's weakened...I don't know."

She laid a gentle hand over my leg, "we'll figure it out, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

--

It took two weeks for my stitches to be removed, for me to be able to move around by myself. I got to see Ally, Olivia and Elle again during those two weeks which was a blessing. But I still felt like something was off, like things were too quiet.

It took three weeks for the silence in my head to be broken by Neil's deep and buttery smooth voice.

"Hello, pet."

I jumped, looking around my room to the small mirror on the dresser where I saw his face looking back at me.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, come now, pet," he chided, "are you mad at me?"

I clenched my jaw, turning away to mumble, "you said you wouldn't hurt me."

I swore I could feel the warmth of a hand on my face, "I didn't mean to, I lost control. Being dead has...changed me."

I chewed my lip but felt a soft tug pulling it from my teeth and looked back at him, confused.

"Was that...are you able to touch me?"

His reflection faded, showing me that I was holding my own face.

"We are connected," he explained, his reflection coming back, "I want to show you something. Close your eyes."

He waited for me to obey before continuing, "good. Now, relax. Imagine yourself stepping back, letting go of your body."

I let my body relax completely, felt myself detach from my body and found myself in a different room. A dimly lit room with two dark, plush chairs sat in front of a fireplace.

"What is this?" I asked.

Our voices had a wispy echo to them. Ethereal, like we were in a different world here.

"This is my space," he explained, coming into the flickering light, "our space now. We can see each other here."

He stepped close to me, the smell of him washing over me, intoxicating. Reached a hand out to run his fingers through my hair.

"We can feel each other here," he murmured.

I gasped, flinching away from his touch and he dropped his hand with a tight smile.

"Trust me."

"I thought you were gone," I murmured, "it's been weeks."

I realized there was a part of me that wanted him to stay, that had been upset thinking he had left me. That didn't want the quiet that came without him.

He sighed, "I used too much energy when I took control of you. I needed you to heal so I could get my strength back."

"So your strength comes from me?"

"I told you, we're connected."

@alias-b @charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama

[saltandburn-ilovesamwinchester]

Good Girl

Hearing the door to the bunker opening was the last thing you expected at ten o'clock. But, hearing the door open meant only one thing. Dean was home! Him and Sammy had been in a state over and they weren't supposed to be home for another day.

As he stepped through the door frame, you sprinted to him. "Dean! You're home early," you squealed as he dropped his bags in front of him. Taking that as an offer, you ran and jumped in his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Looking at the man before you, you took in his appearance. His eyes, that deep green they turned when you were near. His hair wet from the drizzle of rain outside. One little thing was different though, and that was the beard he was starting to show off. Heaven help this man when Sammy gets to his room!

Grinning from ear to ear he said," Y/N, I was not gone that long. Did you really miss me this much?" You pulled him into you by the collar of his plaid shirt. You knew what you wanted and what you needed. The need to feel him close. The yearning to have his lips on yours, sharing the same breath. Just feeling his hands beneath you was enough to drive you mad.

At the same time Sam walked in. "Oh, come on! Can the two of you please get a room," he shreaked. Sammy knew during times like these to busy himself. Because when Dean came home, you gave him a proper welcoming. Turning to wink at the younger brother, you told him you were glad he was back safe. If he heard you. By the time you looked back at Dean, you could hear Sam's footsteps going into his room.

"Dean," your breathing showed the shallow in your voice," You don't understand how long it's been. Do you?" Clearing his throat, he got your attention. Your eyes had stayed on his lips since you had turned around from seeing Sam.

"Has my good girl turned bad?" Searching his eyes, you could tell he really meant what he said. But that was it. The last straw. You told him how you felt about those two words. You felt childish whenever he used those words. He didn't need a child. Dean needed a woman.

Jumping down on your own to legs you stormed off leaving him by himself. Taking off to the bedroom, you jerked the door open when you were in front of it. From a good mood to instantly bad, you started shredding your clothes to get into your bed. You pulled back the neat blankets and slid straight in. Everything was great until he said those small words. You didn't realize how upset you were until Dean rushed in and climbed in beside you.

"Y/N, what did I do," his voice caving in. It was great to feel him behind you, but you were still mad at him. Then, as if he read your mind, he placed a tight grip on your hip and pulled you closer. There was no space for moving. His strong hands never left your side as he started breathing down your neck. It wasn't long before you felt the light kisses he was trailing down from your ear, nibbling on your jaw when he made his way there.

"Dean, I.. uh," forming the words was so hard when his tongue hit your skin on your neck," I need to tell you something." He never stopped marking you, telling you to go on. "This is so hard for me," you breathed out. "Sit up and look at me!"

Obeying nicely, your boyfriend sat up. Placing your hand in his you let out what had been on your mind. "I'm tired of being the good girl, Dean. You need someone who's going to test your limits, not.. not this," you gesture to yourself. He was inches before you now, trying to read the seriousness in your eyes.

"Sweetheart, what I need is for you to be my good girl and do what I tell you to," he laughed. He knew how to press all of your buttons.That damn mouth of his was going to get him into trouble. "If trouble is what he wanted, then trouble is what he is about to get," you thought to yourself.

Not taking it any more, you shoved him on his back. Crawling up him, you straddled his hips and placed your hands on each side of him with his hands in yours. "Awwe, Sweetheart," you mocked," I knew I was just going to have to prove to you that I was serious about this," you threatened. He must have understood you that time because he was silent. And you cocked an eyebrow at him when you felt him grow underneath you.

"No sir, not right now," you teased. Settling over him, you dipped down to kiss his lips. The kiss that had been waiting all night. The kiss that would lead you to more. With your hands keeping his down, you moved down his face, to his hot, thick neck. Finding the perfect spot you began to nibble there.

You didn't know what to expect, never being in control like this. But when Dean let out a low moan there was a shock inside of you that made you jerk on top of him. Chewing your lower lip, you let go of his hands. "Your punishment is over with," you lingered,"But if you do this again, don't think I'll stop there next time."

Just like that, it was enough to make him snap. This what you've been waiting on. "Baby girl, what can I say? How should I react to this, this new attitude?" Sitting up with you still in his lap, he wrapped his strong arms around you. "I think you truly meant what you had said," he licked at his lips, "And damn, if I'm not ready for you now," he whispered as he bucked his hips into you.

With him leading you, you lifted the shirt he had been wearing off his shoulders and tossed it to the floor. You held onto him as he made the same move, pausing for a kiss in between. Slowly tracing the skin on your arms, he slipped his hands behind your back, ridding you of your bra. You dug your nails into him when he began tracing the outline of your shorts.

"Nope, no sir," you sighed. "Tonight is about you," you smiled at him. Once again, Mr. Winchester found himself on his back. You left a trail of kisses down him until you made the way to his belt. Looking up at him you, with your voice low, "Is this what you want, Dean? Don't be scared," you bit your lip not knowing what he would say.

"Yes, yes Y/N. This is absolutely what I want," he hissed as you bit down on his hip.

Looking up at him you asked," I'm sorry, Sir. What was that?" There was a sweet grin that teased on your lips as you watched him squirm.

"Yes ma'am! Yes ma'am, this is what I want!" Those words made you cave in as they left his lips. He finally learned who he was dealing with.

"Mmm.. Dean. I'm so proud of you." You smiled, showing all teeth. He was sweating bullets waiting on you and now it was time for your end of the bargain. "Now, be a good boy and run your hands through my hair!"

♤♡◇♧ Well well well. How the tables have turned! Sorry, if there's any mistakes!! Guys, please shower me in your opinions! Like, comment, share your little hearts out! I hope yall enjoyed! 😘❤💋

@waywardbaby @ain-t-bovvered @imperiusimpala @waywardnerd67 @oldfreakything @idreamofplaid @leatherandapplepies @plaid-lover-bay25 @maddiepants