#it's been 9 years since i last watched lol

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks.  Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club. 

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

 Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen. 

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.  

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls. 

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away. 

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over. 

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll.  “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke. 

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!” 

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over. 

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her. 

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend. 

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door. 

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his. 

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent. 

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.” 

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots. 

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach? 

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line. 

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next. 

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.  

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.  

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party. 

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?” 

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?  

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words. 

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life. 

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

 You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him. 

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.   

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start. 

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face. 

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would. 

He showed up. 

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours. 

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious. 

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd. 

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. 

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends. 

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far. 

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.   

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to. 

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout. 

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer. 

“Six,” you sob. 

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.” 

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it. 

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once. 

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

[bolinity]

(i did it. i finally finished rewatching atla.)

[lexicog]

traitor to the cause forgets national holiday every year KILL HIM

[prythianpages]

Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | You're hopelessly devoted to Azriel, suspecting he’s your true love. Meanwhile, Eris is hopelessly longing after you. aka Eris being your mate but you're too infatuated with Az to notice.

warnings: slight angst, reader being a bit delulu

*also disclaimer that I am no expert in astrology and my knowledge is usually what I gathered from friends or tiktok so if I'm wrong, please correct me but do it nicely pls bc I am sensitive lol*

a/n: I wasn't sure whether to include Az or not in the pairing but I liked the idea of leaving this fic up to your interpretation. Anyway, happy reading! <3

As you entered the Night Court’s observatory, you traced your fingers along the edge of the great celestial map laid before you. You could feel the soft hum of magic beneath your fingertips, still smell the faintest hint of sage–a remnant of your father’s last ritual here. For centuries, your father has served as the Night Court’s astrologer. He’s guided and advised High Lord Rhysand and on occasion, Keir, the steward of the Court of Nightmares.

Above you, constellations and planets danced across the domed ceiling, the stars gleaming as though they were ready to whisper secrets just for you. You took a deep breath, centering yourself, and placed a palm flat against the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. It began to glow, a warm golden light tracing symbols of the zodiacs and planets.

“Stars above and stars below, reveal the path I seek to know,” you quietly murmured.

The markings on the wheel shifted in response, aligning and realigning with clicking sounds, the warm golden light following. Then, your own chart had appeared, shimmering above you. It was a translucent web of stars and planets connected by silvery lines. You’ve read your birth chart many times, become so familiar with it that you knew it by heart even.

But tonight, you needed the extra reassurance. So you looked up, watching as the planets moved slowly. Your heartbeat a little faster as you spotted Jupiter making transit through your seventh house. The promise of growth, abundance, luck and most important of all, love filled the air. 

You slipped a small vial from the hidden pocket of your cobalt blue dress. The words Love Potion No.9 gleamed on the glass, the dark red liquid swirling. It was the enchanted perfume you’d bought from a witch last week—a little love potion designed to make you irresistibly alluring to your soulmate.

You felt a bit foolish, seeking a witch for guidance on love of all matters. Witches were frowned upon in the Court of Nightmares, after all. But impatience had finally nudged you to venture beyond the court’s dark mountain and into the surrounding forests, in search of someone who could help.

“Seek the one who walks between light and shadow with a mask of cool indifference, where fire meets the edge of night. There your heart shall find its match,” she had told you as she handed you the enchanted perfume.

Her words had only confirmed what you had been suspecting for years, centuries even.

Azriel was your soulmate. 

Azriel, the very embodiment of cool indifference, wore a mask of stoicism in the Court of Nightmares, just as High Lord Rhysand did. But his hazel eyes always seemed to burn with a hidden fire. And when you were alone with him, away from the cold nobility of the Night Court, Azriel would let that mask slip, revealing a kinder side that laughed and smiled with you. He was your friend and not only did he literally walk among shadows, he wielded them. It had to be him!

And then, there was your birth chart. Your seventh house lay in Taurus—a sign ruled by Venus. With Venus positioned in your twelfth house, everything pointed to the idea that your future soulmate would bring your happiness and pleasure. And since you met Azriel all those years ago during a counseling your father led, happiness had been an emotion you'd grown more familiar with.

The stars couldn’t have given you a clearer message!

**

There was a flutter in your stomach as you approached Azriel. The two of you had been stealing glances at one another, as you usually did anytime you found yourselves in the same place. He looked as beautiful as ever. As dreamy as ever. 

Though your High Lord and High Lady had moved to the center of the ballroom for a dance, he had stayed by the dais. “Hello,” you greeted him with a small smile.

Azriel turned to you, that mask of his slipping for just a brief moment to smile back at you. He took the extra wine glass in your hold, murmuring a small thanks. He turned his head back to the dance floor, attentive to his High Lady’s whereabouts. But he shifted closer to you, the coolness of his shadows caressing your bare arm and you couldn’t help but wonder if the perfume was working.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Thanks.” A blush rose to your cheeks. You’d taken care to match your dress to the exact shade of his siphons. And he noticed. “So do you.”

“I wear this all the time.” Azriel replied drily, referring to his usual Illyrian leathers.

“Yeah, I know.” You cursed yourself inwardly for the awkward response, then shifted closer, leaning toward him. “Do I smell to you?”

Azriel paused, his shadows brushing close, as if curious themselves. “No,” he said after a moment.

“Oh.” Disappointment seeped into your voice despite your best efforts, and his gaze shifted to you, a hint of a frown in his brows.

“Do you want to smell?”

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a subtle quirk of his lips. You shook your head, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "No. I just wanted to know if I smelled any…different…,” and then, in a much quieter tone, you murmured, “to you.”

Azriel considered your words. He looked to you in what seemed like permission. You gave a nod of your head and he leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You smell the same to me.” At the breath you let out, he quickly added: “which is good by the way. You smell nice.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly, the flutter you had felt in your stomach earlier twisting into a knot. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Azriel asked softly.

“Yeah, I just thought—” You stopped, not sure how to explain without sounding foolish. It wasn’t like you could admit to feeling disappointed over the lack of reaction from an enchanted perfume you’d spent quite a fortune on. Especially when he was the sole purpose for it. Had the witch scammed you?

Azriel waited for you patiently, concern flashing in his eyes. Maybe the perfume hadn’t worked, but the stars and planets had never led you astray. That still had to mean something, right? 

“I’m fine.” You finally said.

“Are you sure?”

The way he was looking at you had warmth creeping up your neck and settling deeper in your cheeks. “Yeah.”

A single shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and in the blink of an eye, his head turned. Your gaze followed his, to where Rhysand and Feyre were standing. Rhysand sent him a slight nod and with a sigh, Azriel returned it.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Azriel said, quickly downing the remaining wine from his glass.

You held out your hand, offering to take it for him.

“Thank you. I’ll be back. Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

You watched Azriel disappear into his shadows before turning away from the dais and making your way to the refreshments table. You were eager for a refill on your glass. Perhaps a little more wine would help ease the sting of disappointment. But he’d said he’d be back, hadn’t he?

As you scanned the room, you noticed your father in conversation with one of Keir’s sons and your mother eyeing potential suitors for your older brother. As an elite warrior of the Darkbringers, he had no shortage of admirers, and it was only a matter of time before your mother secured him a match—perfect or not.

You suspected you’d be next on her matchmaking list, so you busied yourself with small talk among familiar ladies. Conversations were always a mind-numbing, the ladies your age exchanging beauty tips that centered around the male’s eye or fawning over this season’s most eligible males. Which this season just so happens to be your brother. Gross. If only they knew him the way you did….

Second to him was Bret—or some equally uninspiring name. A Scorpio, of all things, which clashed miserably with your chart. Not that it mattered. You had no interest in any noble of the Court of Nightmares. Or any male here. Most, if not all, were cruel and narcissists, only viewing females as child bearers and nothing more. 

There was a reason why this court was burdened with the title “Nightmares.”  And to marry someone from here would mean never waking up from this darkness. No stars to light your night skies, only endless shadow and despair.

So, you’d taken fate into your own hands. You’d turned to your birth chart, hoping the stars would lead you somewhere beyond Hewn City, beyond this never-ending nightmare. And they had. They led you to believe it was Azriel. Azriel, who was not only honorable and single but also, technically, part of the Court of Dreams. He’d been your friend for centuries, seeing you for who you are rather than an object or prize like most males here. 

As you sneak away from the conversation, you bump into something–someone. Behind you, a deep voice huffed a low, mocking chuckle. “Easy there, librarian.” 

You could recognize that voice anywhere, could recognize the heat radiating from him. It pressed down on you, leaving you simmering with irritation.

“I’m a libra, not a librarian.” You bit out. It hasn’t even been a minute and already you were exhausted by the searing presence behind you. “And besides, to you, it’s Lady Y/N.”

When you turned, you found Eris looming over you. His amber eyes gleamed with a familiar, infuriating mischief. He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that made his sharp features all the more arrogant. “Such a harsh tone. Hardly fitting for a Lady.”

Your gaze hardened into a glare, only to have it stray toward a movement across the ballroom.  A flicker of shadow caught your attention, and your heart gave a small, hopeful jump as your gaze softened. There he was—Azriel.

He had returned to the ballroom…but he hadn’t returned to you…

Eris raised a glass to his lips, amber eyes flicking lazily between you and Azriel. “Disappointment doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” You muttered hastily.

He gave a scoff, his smirk widening with dark amusement. “Please. I can practically feel it.”

“Liar,” you shot back. 

“Azriel said he’d find me again and unlike you, he’s a male of his word,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Eris this. “He’s…”

Your words trailed off as you watched Azriel, who stood next to Nesta and Elain. He laughed–actually laughed!-- at something Elain had said, shadows absent from his frame as his focus remained solely on her. You couldn’t miss the soft smile playing on his lips, nor the warmth in his gaze. Did he do that with every female he knew? You thought he reserved that just for you…

The bubble in your chest slowly deflated.

“Keep dreaming,” Eris huffed out. He seemed to take special pleasure in your reaction. It prompted your cheeks to flush but this time, with irritation.

“Oh, go away, you prick,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?" he replied, leaning closer, his sharp gaze burning into you. You missed the flash of longing in his amber eyes, too focused on Azriel. Or the way the words that had been on the tip of his tongue faltered as your scent suddenly overwhelmed him, his breath hitching slightly.

 "You smell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled absently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice gruff and pupils flaring. “You smell different tonight…good...”

You blinked, barely processing his words. Was he actually being nice to you? In all the years you’ve known him, he’s always had snark remark after snark remark for you. The way it would roll smoothly off his tongue always left you wondering if he’d rehearse them for his visits to the Court of Nightmares. 

You fidgeted, fingers grazing your wine glass as you cast a hesitant glance back at Azriel. Your chest tightened as he remained engrossed in conversation with Elain. Turn around, please. But he hadn’t even looked your way once. 

Eris stepped in front of you, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze roamed over you, your dress. He took in the shade and he knew why you had chosen it–and for whom.  "You know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face.  "Red suits you far better.”

“And there he is, you’re back…”

"I’m serious. This—" He gestured to your gown with a slight grimace, his fingers brushing the silk fabric in disappointment. "This color washes you out. Red would bring out the color of your eyes…”

Your jaw clenched but you remained silent, refusing to admit that his words stirred something within you. Eris was insufferable, arrogant, and yet you couldn't deny his eye for detail. He, after all, was always dressed impeccably in the finest Autumn attire. But you would never give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

His smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Do you want to know another thing?”

“No,” you said immediately.

But he leaned in anyway, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re hopelessly devoted to a male who doesn’t even look your way.”

Your mouth opened, brows furrowing in protest, but he went on. His smirk softened, fading into a half-smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes, dimming the fire that usually burned so brightly there. And then, in a much quieter, reluctant tone, he murmured, “And I am no different, it seems.”

"But…" You stammered, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Azriel. "He does look my way…sometimes.”

Eris’s smile faded, his expression tightening. A flicker of pain crossed his face. So brief, you almost thought you imagined it.  "You’re delusional.”

“And you’re insufferable.” You scoffed, heart pounding.

“Better than being a fool.” 

The mocking tone was there but the usual sharpness had been softened by a strange, subtle sadness. Was this… pity?

You swallowed, lifting your chin defiantly. “The stars wouldn’t lie to me,” you said, though the conviction in your voice wavered. “He’s the one for me.”`

You met his eyes then and Eris held your gaze. His amber eyes warm and molten, the intensity of his stare prickling at your skin. An unsettling flutter erupted in your stomach, rising to your chest. A feeling you quickly dismissed when you felt something cool brush against your arm.

“Is he bothering you, y/n?”

Eris scoffed at the sudden presence beside you. It sickened him to see that sweet, adoring look on your face, the triumphant gleam in your eyes as you looked up at Azriel. The sight made Eris grit his teeth. His instincts roared at him, the fire in his veins was scorching.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze, realizing both males were waiting for your answer. “No,” you said but the way you shifted to stand behind Azriel said otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze hardened as he looked toward Eris. “Stay away from her,” he seethed.

A low growl rumbled from Eris’s chest as he took a step forward, his amber eyes flaring with rage. Though not as tall as Azriel, he seemed to tower over him at this moment. His teeth flashed as his lips curled into a snarl. “I do not take orders from bastards like you.”

Azriel’s wings tensed, threatening to unfurl and the movement of his shadows quickened. Like a storm ready to unfold. But before it could, you placed a hand on his arm. Right over one of his glowing siphons that seemed to be growing hotter and hotter, daring to match the fire coursing through Eris’s veins.

“Az, don’t,” you told him gently, not wanting to draw any attention to the three of you. You felt his muscles ease under your touch, his shadows brushing over your hand in agreement.

Eris’s gaze dropped to your hand on Azriel’s arm, his expression darkening into something unreadable. He exhaled sharply, turning his head as though trying to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

When he looked back, his features had shifted into his usual cool mask, that infuriating smirk sliding back into place. He looked right at you.

“When you wake up from this deranged dream of yours, come find me.”

You watched him, feeling a strange, unwelcome tug in your chest as he turned to leave. Perhaps, one day you’d realize that the enchanted perfume you had bought was not a scam. 

And that the male you searched through the stars and planets for was not the one standing beside you, but the one who’d just walked away.

a/n: sorry if you're not a libra, I just thought it'd be funny for Eris to purposely say reader's sign wrong as he knows astrology is a huge influence on her.

[series masterlist]

[Eris masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[gguk-n]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (LANDO NORRIS X Reader)

I did a poll yesterday and I had asked which driver I should write an smau with Sabrina Carpenter's Please please please. Lando won, so here is the smau. I hope you guys enjoy it more than I enjoyed making it!! (I used Sabrina Carpenter mostly, except a few places where I got the pictures from pinterest)

Y/N.Y/L/N

Tagged Y/BFF/user and McLaren

Liked by McLaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 4,657,982 others Y/N.Y/L/N So Y/BFF/user loves watching cars go fast, I on the contrary had my heart stop when I found out the speed they drove at. Thank you to McLaren for having us. It was the nicest experience, let's do this again some time. The drivers were so much fun, especially oscarpiastri, same sense of humour as Y/BFF/N.

user 1 I knew loving y/n was a queen move, she's so pretty. user 2 the crossover I didn't know I needed😭😭 user 3 I was at the race and when I said I was a fan she gave me and the others an autograph and we even took pictures!! the sweetest!!❤️❤️ user 4 I was also at the race and I saw her and Lando literally throwing themselves at each other and laughing at god knows what. user 5 user4 me too, I saw them whispering to each other and I think I saw them exchange numbers👀 user 6 both of them follow each other now, idk what that means?? are we getting a new dad?!🤔

Y/N was greeted by McLaren staff at the entrance and given paddock passes to enter. Y/BFF/N was looking around with big round eyes and almost screamed when she saw Lando and Oscar. They shook hands and went along with the engineers on a tour of the paddock. Y/N didn't understand most of it but she was happy for Y/BFF/N. Lando seemed to have noticed that Y/N was zoned out, so he tapped her shoulder, "You don't have to listen if you don't want to." Y/N apologised and tried to pay attention, alas Lando had other plans and decided to end her misery. He took her along to the drivers room, let her sit down and even got her an iced americano, her favourite!! Y/N thanked him with the conversation flowing like butter with the sprinkling of some flirting here and there. As Lando finished P3, he made sure to get Y/N number before she left for the night; a triumphant look on Lando's face.

f1updates

Liked by 34,765 others f1updates Y/N Y/L/N was in attendance at today’s race at McLaren. P (Max's girlfriend's daughter) was seen taking picture with her. She wasn't the only one happy it seems because a certain driver couldn't get done with press and debrief without blushing every time he looked at her. He even ran back after the race to her in what every is describing as a race to get her number before she leaves. We hope to see more of Y/N now that she might become a wag.

user 7 can celebrities who don't care about the sport not come. 😒😒 user 8 this page is supposed to update about the race not the racers lives🙄🙄 user 9 I think they look cute together, I haven't seen Lando blush like this ever🥰🥰

landonorris followed Y/N.Y/L/N

Y/N.Y/L/N followed landonorris

Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by landonorris and 3,657,987 other Y/N.Y/L/N So happy to bring you the collection with Skims I've been working on since last year. You know how much of a big advocate I am of body positivity and control. I hope this collection brings joy to all the people who wear it, I hope you feel just as sexy as I did while doing the photoshoot

user 7 not Lando lurking in the likes user 8 user 7 he's not lurking, he follows her lol. user 9 she betrayed taylorswift for money🤦‍♀️. user 10 mother is mothering user 11 Y/N.Y/L/N can you adopt me?? I wanna be hot like you when I grow up Y/N.Y/L/N user 11 sure but you're already hot, I can see from the pfp💋💋. user 11 Y/N.Y/L/N didn't just reply to me, i can die happy

landonorris

liked by Y/N.Y/L/N, McLaren, oscarpiastri and 1,456,278 other landonorris might not have finished podium but you guys get cute pictures of me

user 10 marry me Norris!!!❤️❤️💋💋 user 11 he's so cute and drivers fast cars, what a package.🥹🥹. user 12 its ok mate, better luck next time👍 user 1 not only did Lando like y/n post, y/n liked his back too😭😭

y/nupdates

Liked by 15,798 others. y/nupdates Y/N was seen a few days back with a mystery man on the streets of London. Both of them looked very comfortable holding hands or kissing each other any chance they got. Is there romance in the air or is this another one of y/n flings? only time will tell.

user 2 guys, its Lando Norris, Mclaren's driver😳 user 3 I can confrim its Lando, I saw them near big ben user 4 she hasn't released any new music in ages, focus on your work😫😫 user 5 user 4 let her have fun, you mood killer🤬

f1wagsupdates

liked by 3,490 others f1wagsupdates Lando Norris was seen getting up close and comfortable with a new girl on the beaches of Hawaii. Is a new grid couple on the rise??

user 6 you did not just call y/n a new girl?? 🤦‍♀️😤 user 7 i think they are so cute!! I want what they have😩😭 user 8 Lando needs to focus on the race now that Mclaren is doing so good😤😤

popnews

liked by Y/BFF/user and others popnews Y/N Y/L/N, singer and Lando Norris, McLaren's F1 driver were seen walking around the streets of Paris. This seems to be the third city the pair has been spotted being in love. Speculations say that they started dating after Y/N went to the race in March. Only time will tell what is going on between the two since they've kept their personal lives private since neither have been seen attending a race or a concert. We've tried contacting both their PR team but have gotten no response.

user 9 y/n best friend liked this, must be true🤯!! user 10 both of them are so cute together!! can't wait for all the love songs y/n will write😭😭 user 11 i hate it when bitches get with hot guys😡 user 12 you can tell they both are in love. can't believe popnews reported, must be real😔

babygirlcore

Liked by lando.jpg, Y/BFF/user and others. babygirlcore that's why they say you should date an athlete, they got good stamina lando.jpg damn, i feel objectified babygirlcore I'm only with you for the looks, sorry you had to find out like this Y/BFF/N can't believe my bestie is dating my fav driver and I find out from the tabloid babygirlcore I'm sorry Y/BFF/N I would've told you but Lando wouldn't let me. lando.jpg don't drag me in this I'm innocent

Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by landonorris,maxverstappen1 and 1,452,647 others. Y/N.Y/L/N It was so much fun performing at coachella. Thank you for having me. I've been touring for the past year, but this never gets old. I hope I get to see you guys at my concerts, tickets available in the bio.

user 1 seeing her live was a dream come true😭 user 2 the only reason I went to coachella❤️❤️ user 3 is it just me or was she winking and giggling at someone in the crowd??🤔🤔 user 4 user3 I saw it too, it's prolly Lando🥲🥲 user 5 user4 it was definitely Lando someone posted pictures of them after the coachella user 6 can't believe this witch took my Lando😤😤

landonorris

Liked by Y/N.Y/L/N, McLaren, f1 and 5,278,934 others. landonorris that first win feeling!! So thankful to McLaren for always believing in me!!

user 7 the most deserved win😭😭😭!! user 8 not Lando running to y/n as soon as he won😍😭😭!! user 9 so rude, y/n won't even comment congratulating her boyfriend😷😷 carlossainz55 congratulations cabron oscarpiastri congratulations mate

babygirlcore

liked by lando.jpg and others babygirlcore the winner of Miami gp and my heart!! give it up for Lando Norris!! so proud of you baby, I knew you could do it!! can't wait to share more wins and watch you become the WDC!!

lando.jpg you're making me blush, love you baby!! Y/BFF/user can't believe I missed this historic moment Congratulations Lando!! Gonna have to take the year off so I can process these emotions😭😱🤯 lando.jpg thank you Y/BFF/N

Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 3,765,983 others. Y/N.Y/L/N I've been working at the studio for a while now, can't wait for you guys to hear the new stuff I've coming for you. It's been so long since a new album. So, I'm happy to announce the release of my new album in a couple months. Can't wait to share it with the best people in my life!!

link in the bio

user 7 let her cook😭🥹 user 8 can't believe Lando is her muse, the song is so Lando coded🥹🥹 user 9 oh to be y/n and dating Lando, she hit the jack pot😔😔 user 10 I'm so happy she's finally getting the love she deserves❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭. user 11 can they just come out and say that they are dating😖😖. user 12 i'm working late cuz I'm a singer, the line of the century, play this at my funeral💀 Y/BFF/user is this song about me babygirl Y/N.Y/L/N Y/BFF/ user always, you're my soulmate❤️❤️🥰🥰😘😘

Lando couldn't help but gloat to his friends and fellow drivers. How many people can say that their girlfriend wrote a song about them. The song made him soft and mushy so when Y/N walked through the door he tackled her into a hug. "you wrote a song about me" Lando whispered in her ear. "I did" y/n replied, "all my songs are about you darling" Lando's neck felt hot and his cheeks started to hurt from smiling to hard. Y/N looked at his face and smirked, "aww!! is little norris blushing??" Lando quickly moved away and turn his head towards the window. Y/N couldn't help but tease him and call him a sap in love. Honestly the biggest sap was Y/N since she was the one writing songs about her boyfriend.

Y/N.Y/L/N

Tagged landonorris

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 2,769,654 others Y/N.Y/L/N Heart break is one thing, my ego's another.

link in the bio

user 1 mom said dad's not allowed to look anywhere else.😈😈🙈🙈. user 2 what a power move y/n casting her boyfriend in the song about not fucking up the relationship😂😂. user 3 if that stupid vroom vroom guy fucks up, it's on sight😤😤 user 4 i don't get the hype, she aint even that pretty😒. user 6 i hope they break up, Lando is meant to end up with me 🤦‍♀️ landonorris Thanks for having me on the music video, if you need help in the future lemme know😏😉 Liked by the author user 5 Lando trying to be low key in the comments when we know he's being loved by the best girl Y/BFF/user I'm sending this to my boyfriend Y/N.Y/L/N Y/BFF/user I thought I was your boyfriend, am I the other one???? Y/BFF/user Y/N.Y/L/N sorry babygirl, it do be like that sometimes

landonorris

Tagged Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by Y/N.Y/L/N, maxverstappen1 and 1,256,783 others. landonorris I'm not as good with words as she is. I never knew what love felt like before she walked into my life. So grateful to be the boyfriend of the most beautiful, kind, caring, loving and gorgeous girl. You're my forever person. I love you Y/N Y/L/N❤️❤️

user 1 if someone saw this. they'd think this was a y/n fan acc. user 2 y/n is barbie and Lando is just ken and he's happy if barbie is😫😫. user 3 eww, she ugly, Lando could do so much better. carlossainz55 congratulations cabron!! happy for you charles_leclerc Alex want's to know if we can get tickets to her concert?? Y/N.Y/L/N charles_leclerc yessss!! tell Alex she can come to all my concerts oscarpiastri you would've thought he would shut up after getting with her but he has become insufferable. Y/N.Y/L/N take him away. He cries whenever you're not around. Liked by Y/N.Y/L/N Y/N.Y/L/N I love you too baby boy. You're my forever person too!! landonorris I'm so lucky to have you, love you mommy😘😘.

Y/N.Y/L/N

Tagged landonorris

Liked by landonorris, Y/BFF/user and 1,426,783 others Y/N.Y/L/N People keep asking why are all my songs about love, I look at them and say I’ve finally found my muse. He makes me so happy, I’ve never felt this way with anyone. So grateful for meeting him cuz I don’t think I knew what being loved was like. Thank you Lando Norris for being the light in my dark times. I just wish my heart didn’t give up every time you looked at me or got into that damn F1 car. But I think I’ll live. Love you❤️💋

landonorris love you too. Liked by author user 4 what dry ass reply was that Lando, look at y/n comment's on his post Y/BFF/user landonorris does this mean free passes to the races forever?? landonorris Y/BFF/user obviously!! user 5 Lando is so blind, she's only using you user 6 they are so cute, they'd have the cutest babies🥺🥺 user 7 he's too good for her, i wish he was still with Luisinha user 8 y/n prolly watching every race to make sure her man is alive 🤣🤣

After hitting the post button on their respective accounts, Y/N found herself in Lando's arms with her head against his chest and his on top of hers. She wrapped her arms around his torso and took a deep breathe; "I love you so much, you know that, right?" Lando chuckled, “You don't let me forget it, with being your muse and all” She let out a sign of content and mumbled, "Just like the driver's championship you are P3 in my heart" Lando's face dropped, unwrapping his arms and pulling her to eye level, "what do you mean?" Y/N just laughed and said, "my parents and Y/BFF/N are P1 and P2 but am sure you'll become P2 if I write any more songs about you." Lando leaned in and kissed her, she pulled him closer as she deepend the kiss. Both of them happy where they were in each other's arms.

I hope you guys liked it!!

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 9

wc: 3.2k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, previously audrey x ben, mal x ben???? apparently????

warnings: emotional damage!!! unusual behavior from ben, reader has a lil mini breakdown, reader is a just a tad autistic coded and has kind of a meltdown??? could also be read as emotional distress so interpret how you will

summary: ben gets weird during a tourney game and your gut is telling you something you probably shouldn't ignore.

song recs: twisted - aviva, cradles - sub urban, rabbit heart - florance and the machine, heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

a/n: YOOOOOOOOO IT'S GETTIN JUICYYYYYY. also our cat I mentioned in the an of chapter 8 has settled in well. he's so talkitive lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING HAPPY PRIIIIIDEEEEEEE~~~~~ BEEEEE WHO YOU AARRRREEEE FOR YOUR PRIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDEEEEEEEE

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE YELL AT ME IN THE NOTES AND ILL ADD YOU LOL

You take in a big lungful of the crisp, springtime fresh Auradon air as you crawl out of your rabbit hole and back into Overland. Roots and twigs and grass stick to your skirts, but you don’t mind much. You check your pocket watch in a panic, and scurry to the tourney match. You’re merely a pebble’s throw away, so you reach the bleachers quite quickly. Late, granted, but not too late. Not horribly, irreversibly, all-endingly late. You climb up to your usual spot in the bleachers, only a few seats away from the isle kids. Well, Mal and Evie, really, since Jay and Carlos are out on the field. You try to wave at the girls, but they seem much too preoccupied with the game to notice. You understand their fascination, tourney matches are simply addictive. 

You yourself hadn’t been one for sports - aside from the occasional caucus race - that is, until Ben joined the tourney team last year. He must have spent every spare moment leading up to his first match trying to explain the rules to you with no luck, but the moment the referee blew her whistle, you were enamored watching him play. And it’s simply been that way ever since. No matter what it is, you know it will be a fantastical time if Ben’s the one playing. This seems especially true today. 

Ben tears up the field like an absolute animal - no pun intended - and within minutes has scored yet another goal for Auradon. The Fighting Knights are pulling out all the stops, and through even your unwavering faith in Ben’s athleticism, it’s starting to look like a close call. You pull out a teacup from your bag, the china cool under your fingertips. It’s adorned with a white catchfly and chestnut print, but you don’t pay much attention to it. 

Your eyes are locked on Ben as he races down the field, and you pour the spout of your tea pot shaped bag into the cup. Warm, perfectly brewed rooibos and nettle tea trickles from its spout. You shake it absentmindedly a few times, and some lemon slices and lavender sprigs fall in, floating atop the beverage. You take a sip of the warm, perfectly seasoned herbal tea, nearly choking on it as Jay drags Carlos across the field. You watch with bated breath as they move strategically, setting up Ben to score the perfect winning goal. The ball flies straight into the net, and you jump up, cheering and applauding, not even noticing the rooibos and nettle tea stain on your skirt. The crowd roars right along with you, applauding and cheering deafeningly while the announcer congratulates Auradon Prep on their win. Before he can even finish speaking, Ben grabs the mic from him.

You stop dead in your tracks, brow furrowed.

That’s not like him. 

Not at all. 

“Excuse me, excuse me!” Ben pants, still out of breath as he tries to get the crowd’s focus. “Can I have your attention please?”

The stands quiet as he speaks. 

“There’s- uh, there’s something I’d like to say!”

What in the Knave’s good name is he doing? Your mind races, trying to remember if he’d said anything about something like this. Were there any speeches, any announcements, anything like that he was going to make after the game? You can’t remember him mentioning anything like that. Besides, he always runs his speeches by you first to make sure it comes across the way he intends it too. Even something as small as an opening statement or homework presentation, he always gets your feedback first. You watch the way his eyes dart around, the way he hesitates as he tries to figure out what he’s saying. Your stomach drops. He’s improvising this. This whole situation feels surreal. Most peculiar, and most definitely unlike him. 

After another moment of floundering, he finally addresses the crowd. 

“Give me an M!” 

The crowd complies, shouting out the letter and mirroring the shape he’s making with his arms. 

“Give me an A!” 

“A!” 

While the crowd complies yet again, throwing their arms over their heads in an A shape, your eyes fly over to Audrey. You’re afraid you know where this is going, even though it makes positively less sense than the most twisting turning riddles you’ve ever encountered in Wonderland. Your horrified, bewildered expression is the opposite of her hopeful one, and you realize you’re thinking the same thing. Your stomach sinks in a sick, twisting feeling. Your mind races in a dreamlike panic. 

He can’t seriously be asking Audrey to marry him, could he? 

There’s no way. There’s simply no chance that the Ben you’ve known for longer than you’ve been brewing tea would do something so… impulsive. Everything about Ben is calculated. Well thought through. Ben agonizes over each and every decision, he lies awake at night paralyzed by the potential consequences of each action, each choice not being thought all the way through and analyzed from every possible angle. If proposing to Audrey was even a thought in his mind, he would have told you about it. 

There’s simply no other way. There’s no possibility this was even an option in his mind. Just last week when you had quietly implied that maybe he should consider ending their relationship, his silence spoke louder than any words could have. You had seen that. You saw it in his eyes. There’s no way he could be changing his mind that quickly, and not consulting you - or someone about it? You know you would have gotten wind if he even implied he was toying with the notion. Ben does not flip-flop. So what is… this?

“Give me an L!”

Audrey’s face drops. Yours floods with relief. 

He’s not proposing. 

“C’mon, I can’t hear you!” Ben calls out into the mic, hyping up the crowd. They yell Mal’s name again at Ben’s encouragement. You think you see where he’s going with this. It makes sense - Jay and Carlos each got a big starring moment during the tourney game. Now, Ben is giving a shout out to Mal and Evie so they can share in the glory, and won’t feel left out. It’s a brilliant idea, you realize, but you still can’t figure out why he didn’t plan something like this ahead. Did he realize last minute that Mal and Evie might feel excluded? It’s possible. And right now, it’s the most rational explanation you have for this unusual behavior. Before you can feel too relieved, he leans into the mic. You wait for him to instruct the crowd to give him an E, beginning to spell Evie’s name, and-

“I love you, Mal!”

Your stomach drops. You freeze again, brow furrowed more than before. The world around you spins as you stand in the crowd, disoriented. He says it like a deathbed confession, the words tearing from his throat. Through your confused stupor, you can hear the sincerity, the yearning in his voice. 

What?

You don’t even think to look over at Audrey, but you’re sure as anything her expression is exactly the same as yours - completely and totally shell shocked. Probably moreso, you think, she is his girlfriend after all. But is she? Anymore, that is. You can’t imagine she would want to be after a display like that, after Ben publicly- 

Ben…

Ben. 

His gaze flicks over to you for a split second, not even long enough for you to silently ask him what the hell is going on. But it’s just long enough for you to see a flash of something. A look in his eye. Fear. Confusion. Everything you’re feeling for him right now. His attention is ripped forcefully back to Mal. Whatever was there, you can’t see it now. 

“Give me a beat!” Ben demands overzealously to the band. They start playing something for him, something loud and fast. Ben begins singing Mal’s praises. Literally. You’re still frozen, sick with a cold, confused feeling that makes the world around you feel like a strange dream. Unreal. You begin to question if you are dreaming. Through your dazed state - which you only later realize has begun to be accompanied by hot tears blurring your vision - you could swear you saw Mal and Evie share some sort of look, whisper knowingly. They giggle. Mal pulls a zip top bag of cookies out of her jacket pocket and they both start giggling. Laughing. 

A noise catches your scattered attention and you notice Ben has launched himself into the stands, crowd surfing to get all the way over to Mal. He climbs down, grabbing her waist and pulling her close. It’s so intense, so passionate, so unlike him to do something like that in public. You start to gasp, but you can’t. The stands are so loud, each noise feels like a gunshot deafening you. Your lungs feel like they’re being squeezed from the bottom up like paint tubes, gripped by an artist desperate for the last drops of cadmium yellow deep. 

His hand rests firmly on the small of her back.

Just like it does on yours.

Something sickening twists through you, contaminating your heart and sapping away at your strength. Audrey’s voice cuts through, piercing and shrill as she announces to Ben that Chad is her boyfriend now. You see them kiss in your peripheral vision, eyes still locked on the way Ben’s hand sits on Mal’s back. He doesn’t seem to notice Audrey either, or at the very least, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Normally you’d giggle privately at how much that would irritate her, but nothing so frivolous crosses your mind just then.

“I love you, Mal!” Ben exclaims into the microphone. “Did I mention that?”

He leans closer, aching for her, needing her. But she puts her hands on his chest, trying to keep more distance between them. 

“Mal,” he begs, panting as his breath fans across her face, his cheeks flushed. He grips her tighter, leaning closer until he’s practically dipping her. The crowd watches, shocked at the sight of Prince Ben - who is known for his diplomatic reserve and continuous composure - acting so bold in public. “Will you go to coronation with me?”

“Yes!” Mal’s response comes a little too easily. 

You stare off into space in his general direction, choked with disbelief. You feel so frightened and confused and unwelcome. It’s a cold, isolated feeling of strangeness you’ve been running from since you could walk. You knew what people said about Wonderlandians, what they whispered behind your back when they thought you couldn’t hear. It was always Ben who made that feeling go away. He had seen the change in you, too. The more time you spent together since you were littles, the more he included you and sent disapproving princely looks to anyone who dared to tease you or make you feel like you’re not a part of Auradon, the more it started to work. He saw you relax, saw you believe him when he said he was happy to see you. He saw the shame and paranoia from accepting the fact that everyone around you was teasing you behind your back, spreading lies and rumors fade away. 

Ben watched you grow into yourself the moment he showed you that you were safe to do so. Now, after ten years, that horrible feeling is back and Ben is gone. You turn, rushing out of the bleachers, hopping down to solid ground and turning underneath the stands. You’ve barely stopped before the world caves in around you, and the familiar scent of earth and night and the good kind of confusion envelop your senses, like a hug from your mother. 

You fall down the rabbit hole, and you weep. Shamelessly, loudly, uncontrolled. Your tears fly off into the air above you as you fall, no longer afraid of prying eyes. You cry and cry, losing your sense of time and space as you fall deeper and deeper away from the world that never seems to lose amusement in stinging you when you least expect it. You take in a breath, but before you can let it out as another aching sob, you’re plunged underwater. 

Your eyes flare open in the deep waves around you, the black void of a sky above. You kick yourself up to the surface, gasping as you tread the current carrying you downstream. The water splashes around you, getting into your mouth, and it’s salty. A stork sails by on a little wooden raft, adjusting her captain’s hat. “Well, that would do it!” She exclaims in a thick, Wonderlandian accent. “I was wondering what caused these high tides.” 

She maneuvers her raft towards you and hauls you onto it, her gangly legs wobbling awkwardly as she keeps her balance. She pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and hands it to you, her long feathers tickling your fingertips. 

“Dry your eyes there, dearie, or else we’ll be having to build a new dam!” 

You sputter an apology, which she dismisses goodnaturedly, and begins singing a confusing sea shanty as she navigates the waves, coming and going as you try to calm yourself. After a few minutes, a particularly large wave pushes you two over the river’s edge and sends you spinning into the forest. 

“Well, there you have it.” She says, taking off her cap and dumping out water, sand, a few shells, and a very irritable codfish. She unties the strings of her raft, gathering up the large sticks used to make it into a bundle, and tucking them under her arm.

“Quite useful, you know,” She says softly, before handing you a piece of nicely shaped paper. It reads The Two Blwo’s Shipping Survise. “And if you ever need something lickety split, I do hope you’ll give me a call.”

She tilts her hat and lopes off through the woods into darkness. 

You plop yourself down on the nearest thing - a large, bioluminescent blue mushroom with little purple spots that makes a sound like a big deep drum when you sit down on it. Several smaller mushrooms varying in size scatter near the base of the one you’re seated on. As you pull your foot up to get comfortable, you graze a few of the litter ones, and let out different tones and types of drums too. Normally this would fascinate you. Normally you would be taking pictures, writing about them in your journal, and trying to learn how to play a song on them - if they’re in the right sort of temperament, of course. But today you don’t even notice.

Your mind is still spiraling, sucked down into a whirlpool of the day’s events. You go over and over what happened, hoping to make sense of it, but unable to really process anything. That was so strange, Ben is acting so strange. Why is he acting like that, you wonder. Did he hit his head? Has he somehow been possessed by a very extroverted poltergeist? Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even make nonsense. Even in Wonderland, there are still patterns, there are still rules and motivations for doing things. Even if those rules and patterns don’t make sense to anyone else, they’re still real. Wonderland is illogical and absurd, but it’s not purely random. 

You rock yourself comfortingly on the bouncy mushroom, the soft noise providing an ambiance that helps you start to think again. There’s no feasible pattern or non-pattern or non-pattern pattern to Ben’s behavior. If there were one, you would be able to find it, especially if you know him as well as you do. And you do. You glance down and see some beetles marching in a line, carrying leaf umbrellas to avoid any more falling tears. You wipe them from your cheeks quickly. 

“My apologies.” You say, your voice polite and fragile. The head beetle chirps, clicking his wings and tipping his hat. He ushers the others past your mushroom quickly, putting their leaf umbrellas onto an umbrella leaf bush nearby. 

A few bread-and-butterflies flitter over, carrying a tray of tea and cakes. They place it before you gently, brewing you a cup of blackberry earl grey with extra honey. You thank them, and they nod, flittering off and leaving a trail of buttery breadcrumbs as their wings flap. They land nearby, listening to you mutter to yourself as the line up to form a loaf. The tea and cakes are delicious, full of jam and honey, and they steady your nerves. You take in another breath, less shaky this time, and begin to think. Not panic, really think. 

“There has to be a reason,” you mumble out loud, “There simply has to be. Ben doesn’t just lose his composure like this. He’s not devoid of sensibilities and decision making. He’s worked so hard to hone his reputation as someone trustworthy, someone full of common sense and compassion, and that… being that person for Auradon is everything to him.”

You place down your tea cup firmly, brow furrowing as your confusion melts away to determination. 

“Everything! He would never do something so… impulsive, and foolhardy, and- and… not like him!” 

You stand up quickly, landing on your feet. 

“I must get to the bottom of this.” You pause. “Or top. Either way.”

You gather your things, fix your hair, and wring out the water from your dress. Even if Ben doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, about his future, the very future of Auradon and all who reside within it, you do. Your loyalty to Ben simply cannot be broken by a day like today.  You won’t let him throw away everything he’s worked towards for no reason. For any reason! If he’s just gone mad, that’s one thing to be dealt with. But there’s a good chance he’ll come back to his senses sooner or later, and you refuse to let everything to hell in a handbasket until he does. 

You are going to figure this out. You’re going to do as much damage control as needed until Ben is back to you and Back to himself. And he is going to come back to himself. You’re sure of it.

Filled with tea cakes and determination, you summon a rabbit hole back to Auradon, and jump through. You flip and twist through the darkness, falling past a bookshelf that floats along with you for a moment, offering a few titles that might prove useful. 

When light breaks the surface and you hear the cracking of polished stone floors, you climb through and emerge into the library. You dust the dirt off yourself and off your hands, setting down your books on a table. You begin to look around, rushing through the library and moving with purpose. You pull book after book off the shelves until you can hardly carry them to the checkout desk. Many of them will be fruitless, you’re sure, but anything is better than nothing in times like these.

“Doing some light reading, Ms. Liddell?” The librarian asks, chuckling at the imposing stack of books you’ve placed before her as she scans through them. 

“There’s nothing light about it, I’m afraid.”She looks up, surprised by the unusual heaviness to your voice, the sharp, focused determination. “Thank you, madam.” You say, grabbing all your books and marching off to your dorm. You have a lot of reading to get through.

[evergreenlake]

And Fate was on His Side

Chapter 1

1.1k words

tw: mentions of cheating and hook ups, violence, guns and terrorism (please let me know if I have forgotten anything)

Price x F!Reader, Secret Baby Trope

an: Okay this is just a small note before the chapter starts. I just wanted to warn everyone that this is my first fic, so any of my descriptions of violence may suck lol. And since I don't really have a beta reader this was just barely edited by me and Grammarly lol. But a warning for the future some characters may seem ooc since I do not have much practice writing for them. Anyways that's all I hope you all enjoy.

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next chapter

Most people who have been in a relationship for multiple years think that they'll last forever. Unfortunately, that does not always happen. And y/n is one of the unlucky ones. Her boyfriend of five years slept with his boss's wife. So she broke up with him and decided to travel abroad finally.

She decided to head to England as she'd always been curious about it. When she was out and about on her sightseeing she found out about this bar everyone was raving about. So she decided that after everything that happened back in the States, she deserved a drink. While at the bar she met the most attractive man she's ever seen. They ended up chatting for a while and she decided to finally get out of her comfort zone for once. So they ended up hooking up and the man was gone the next morning. Y/n ended up leaving London the next day.

About 2 months later, she finds out about the twins. The young woman decided to keep them, as she didn't have any plans for future relationships. And she also has always wanted to have kids, so 9 months later she ends up having a boy and a girl. Their names are Daniel, or Danny as his nickname, and the girl was named Mia.

Now Y/n did end up raising the twins alone, along with the help of her friends and family. Well, she did it alone for 16 years, until the day fate brought her and Captain John Price back together.

"Danny come on! You're gonna make us late. Mom has already got the car started. " Mia was standing at the bottom of the stairs as she yelled for her twin brother. Their mutual friend's birthday was today. Shay wanted to spend it at the mall with the twins and some other people.

Danny was taking forever to get ready, his twin thought it was cause he didn't want to go. In reality, he just has a crush on Shay and wants to make sure he looks good. He sighs as he finally stops messing with his hair and quickly comes down the stairs.

Mia was waiting at the door impatiently with a small frown. She was all bundled up in her winter coat with a beanie and her gloves. It was early winter, so the temperature was freezing. Once Danny finally got his coat on they hurried to the car.

Laughing Mia beat him to the front seat and he grumbled getting in the back. Y/n watches the twins with a small smile, she shakes her head with a huff before she asks " Are you two finally ready to go? Shay might be there already. " The twins just groaned before she put the car in drive, and then they were on their way to the mall.

It didn't take long for them to get there, and as soon as their mother had parked. The twins jumped out of the car and were hurrying towards the front of the mall. Back in the car, Y/n sighs, she grabs her purse before she quickly follows after them.

The twins were talking with Shay and the other two people that were there. Standing to the side was Shay's mother. Y/n happened to be close to Grace so she decided to help watch after the 5 teens.

Grace sent Y/n a cheeky smile before she grabbed her arm. " Can't wait to feel so old following them around. I have no clue what they have planned but apparently, they've made a list of places they want to go. I've told Shay we would just follow them around. " Y/n smiles a little before looking at the group of five and she hums a little. " I don't expect anything too wild out of them. Though I do think they may spend a ton of time at the arcade." She let out a small laugh and both of the women started following the kids into the mall.

And just like what was predicted the first place they stopped was the arcade. Shay and Daniel would split off from Mia and the other two. Grace and Y/n shared a small smirk as they watched them.

The adults would wait by the front of the arcade for them. Just gossiping about everyday things, mostly what their teens were up to. At one point Mia came back and just sat next to her mom quietly. She was quite the book nerd, she brought The Hunger Games with her so she could finish her third read-through.

After some time of the teens playing games, they came back over. All of them were now ready to move on to another store. As the group was leaving the arcade a loud explosion shook the building. Chaos was now what the mall atmosphere was like. People were running, others were getting under doorways.

The teenagers had looked to the adults scared, and unsure of what to do. Grace and y/n looked at each other before they started trying to herd the kids through the crowd and to the exit. And not even five minutes later they could hear gunshots. Shay and Mia immediately started screaming. Daniel quickly grabbed onto both of them and followed after the other two teens. While the five of them headed towards a store the adults were right behind them.

As the group was almost to the store, a group of masked men came around the corner. They looked like they were in some kind of tactical gear. Y/n's eyes had widened as she saw them and as soon as they lifted their guns she pushed Grace towards the children. Daniel had turned back as he heard Grace cry out a little. And he was immediately screaming his mother's name as he watched a bullet enter her shoulder.

The woman stumbles into the store as Daniel makes his way back to her. The employees of the store were motioning people to head towards the back room. Grace and her daughter quickly made their way there with the other two teens. Mia turned around and headed toward her mother and Daniel. The three of them barely made it to the register before the men were in the front of the store.

The family of three were now hiding behind the counter. This is because as soon as the employees had seen the group of men outside the store, they rushed into the backroom and shut the door. So the three of them were stuck behind the counter until either the men found them, or someone came to save the day. Little did anyone know, a group was on their way. This group had experience with dealing with a terrorist group like this.

Task Force 141 was on their way to take out the terrorists that were now wreaking havoc upon the mall.

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@miss-vanta-likes-to-write @galactict3a

[uncouth-the-fifth]

i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.

Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”

It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.

And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.

Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.

You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”

“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.

The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.

Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”

The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.

She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”

The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.

He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”

But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”

Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”

The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”

Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.

“Look out!” She stage-whispers.

Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.

“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”

All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.

Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?

You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”

He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.

“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”

…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.

You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”

“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.

You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.

“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”

You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.

“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”

Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.

He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.

…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”

He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.

A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”

“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”

Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”

The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.

For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.

“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”

Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.

He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”

You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.

You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.

“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”

All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”

He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.

A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”

-

Ask to be added to my Leon taglist!

[itsmarsss]

early bird

request: hii i love scandalous and was if would you ever write a poly ozzie/fizz/reader fic?? no pressure or anything, i really love how you write and after the angst (and the more to come from future chapters) something cute and soft would be needed lol (also fizz in suspenders💞💞 😔)

You jolt awake at the sound of a horn. That fucking horn. No matter how many times you throw it away, Fizz, somehow, finds some way to have another one the next morning. You don’t think it’s too far-off to suspect he hides a secret stash of them somewhere in the house. 

You groan, shoving a pillow over your head to conceal the noise, but it’s to no avail as Fizz pulls it from you. 

Ozzie stirs, and he gently pulls your head off his chest so he can sit up just to glare at Fizz. “Could you not?” 

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Why’d you wake us up so early?” You question. “None of us has to be up until 9 today.”

“And how do you know it’s not 9?”

“The sun is literally still rising,” you tell him, pointing at the big window across the room. 

“Well I woke up and I had to go to the bathroom and then I couldn’t sleep again and I tried! But I couldn’t. And I don’t wanna be the only one awake…” he pouts, and he’s obviously trying to get pity points with that so as to not get further complaints about the horn thing. 

It gets Ozzie immediately. “Oh don’t make that face you know I can’t resist it.”

“Uh-huh, that’s why I make it,” he crosses his arms over his chest and smiles, tongue poking out a corner of his mouth. 

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile of your own. Can’t argue with that flawless logic. “What do you even wanna do so early?”

Fizz moves his body towards you by extending his legs, getting his face impossibly close to yours as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. You get the hint, and laugh before planting a kiss on his forehead. “You’re cute. But no way. Still too tired.”

He exaggerates  an eye roll. “So lame!”

“And yet! You still love me.”

“Barely.”

“HA!” Ozzie laughs at him sarcastically.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a simp, Froggie.”

“Am not!”

“S-I-M-P. Simp.”

“So are you!”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Ozzie defends himself, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, everyone’s a simp. Now can we go get some breakfast or what?”

“Thought you said you were too tired.”

“I’m never too tired for breakfast, Froggie,” you pinch his cheek.

“Hey!” Ozzie complains, pretending to take offense to you making fun of his nickname for Fizz, despite it being a routinely occurrence since forever, and pulling him in a tight embrace.

Fizz squeezes himself out of Ozzie’s embrace, laughing, and you all get up off the bed. “Soooo what are we having?” He asks as the three of you exit the bedroom, and you both look up at Ozzie, expectantly. 

“Why am I the one who has to make it?”

“I mean, I can make it if you want,” Fizz says, and the three of you laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion.

“Yeah, no.” Ozzie affirms, serious, before looking at you with a raised brow. “How ‘bout you?”

“I’m just soo, soo tired, baby, look,” you pretend to yawn, and Fizz tries (and fails) not to laugh at it.

“You help me or no deal.”

“No fair! And Fizzy just watches?”

“Thought you liked it when I… watched… you two.”

“Your charm can’t get you out of everything, you know that?”

“It’s been working so far.”

“You’re too smug sometimes, Froggie,” Ozzie comments as he crosses the kitchen to get something, not turning around to say it.

“I already said I can cook if you really want me to!”

“Not after last time!”

“See?” Fizz tells you. “He won’t let me!”

“Oh and you’re obviously sooo bummed about it.”

He smiles, and Ozzie nudges you with a pink spatula. “Here.”

You realize he’s put on his frilly, tiny baby blue apron, and smile at the sight. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m thousands of years old and, like, three times bigger than you.”

“And so what do we say?”

Ozzie lets out a giggle. “Thank you, babe,” he pulls you towards him by your waist, placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Okay, so what are we making? What do I do with this?” You wave the spatula he handed you around.

“What do you wanna eat?”

“Waffles!” Fizz yells out.

“Ohhh, yes!” You agree.

“I could eat some waffles,” Ozzie decides.

“Hell yeah!” Both you and Fizz exclaim at the same time, high-fiving each other. 

You didn’t care about being woken up so early anymore.

[kaleidohscopic]

SWEET — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: it's one thing to run into the guy you maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for at your mutual friends' birthday party. it's another thing to find out he maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for you too. GENRE: friends (ish) to lovers! au, romance, a hint of smut, some pining if you squint WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, jenkai (humour me), wayyyy too much sexual tension, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end but nothing super explicit (bc idk how to write that stuff sorry!), general mature content and themes WORD COUNT: 4.4k NOTE: super self-indulgent w barely any plot or characterisation (basically four thousand something words of foreplay lol), i saw that video of baek at one of the lonsdaleite stops unbuttoning his shirt and it drove me a little loopy ngl...

The last time you had seen Byun Baekhyun was two years ago.

Graduation. Gowns. Bouquets. There was probably a photo of the two of you, along with the rest of your cohort, sitting around somewhere in the depths of your camera roll, fresh-faced and eager to take on the exciting new world outside of 3000-word essays and 9 am tutorials. Four years taking variations of the same courses and bitching about the same tutors meant you were far from strangers, but sadly, the friendship had dwindled once you’d left the classrooms for good — something you had been just a little gutted about. These days, his appearances in your life were rare, save for the times he’d come up in conversation with the friends you both shared back in the day, or his sporadic likes on your instagram posts.

Except now, of course, as you watched him climb up the stairs to the rooftop bar, gift bag in one hand and suit jacket in the other.

“Happy birthday!” he beamed, enveloping your best friend in a hug. The fabric of his shirt strained against the movement of his arms, and you caught a whiff of his delicious woody cologne as he approached. 

You had known there’d be a possibility he’d show up today. This year, Jennie had made the enlightened decision to throw a joint celebration with her boyfriend, and obviously that entailed inviting all of his friends — which honestly, wasn’t even that many extra heads since Jongin only ever spoke to the same eight people. You’d seen Baekhyun’s name on the guest list that you had helped her put together, and seen it again listed under the ‘going’ tab of the event, but having the real deal in front of you was another experience entirely.

Crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled up, fitted slacks, and just a glimpse of his toned chest peeking out from where the top few of his shirt buttons were undone.

He looked fucking good. 

Even better than he did two years ago.

Jennie squeezed him back with just as much fervour. “So glad you could make it! Jongin’s been stuck to my side all night with no one to talk to, he’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

He pulled back with a chuckle, and it was then that he finally laid eyes on you, seated next to the birthday girl, holding matching martinis, and doing your best not to look like you had been shamelessly checking him out for the entire 45 seconds since he had arrived. His eyes widened slightly with recognition as your name left his mouth.

“You haven’t forgotten each other, right?” Jennie laughed. The descent of his eyes down the length of you was quick, but not careless, and heat flared in your body all the same. When his gaze returned back to your face, the beginnings of an appreciative smile were shaping the curve of his mouth.

“Not yet, I hope,” he answered her, but his eyes were still on you. “Nice seeing you again. You look good.”

“So do you, Baekhyun,” you replied, because it was the truth. His smile only grew. 

Jennie tipped back the rest of her martini and bade the both of you a hasty farewell, saying something about fixing up the photo zone as she hurried towards the other end of the rooftop. A few of the girls, too excited about the open bar, had knocked the cushions onto the ground, and were doing a poor job of rearranging them back on the wooden swing.

He slid into her now-vacant seat, elbows resting on the bar counter, giving you an excellent view of the shape of his forearms and the veins that adorned it. 

“You’re not going to have that?” he asked, nodding at the sad little olive that sat all alone at the bottom of your empty glass. 

“Not a fan of the saltiness,” you answered, and offered it to him. You watched as he plucked the garnish stick out of your fingers and put the olive in his mouth with no hesitation, eyes lingering a little too long on the movement of his throat as he swallowed it. “I like sweet things better.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled. “You used to only ever drink vodka cranberries.”

Suddenly, you were twenty-one again, peering through the cafe window and getting a little too giddy at the thought of meeting up outside of the stuffy tutorial classroom to work on the project you had both been assigned to. You’d be lying through your teeth if you said that a crush on Baekhyun was something you never entertained throughout your four years of university together. And maybe it had been reciprocated, for the briefest of times, just after that joint presentation on data structures, where the thought of stepping over from friendly more-than-acquaintances into something more had crossed your mind enough times for you to lose count. There had been something there, or at the very least a hint of something, in the nights spent crammed into a tiny library booth meant only for one person, poring over stale and tedious papers on algorithm organisations in each other’s company.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t made a move, and neither had you, laden with the fear of rejection that was so indicative of youth. And maybe that had been a huge misplay on your part, because a few weeks after wrapping up the project that had brought you together, he was at your faculty’s monthly pub crawl, introducing you to his new girlfriend, who had actually asked him out just the day before. 

Safe to say that had been the end of that. You were not the type to homewreck.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you since — god, it must have been graduation?” 

“Something like that,” you replied through a smile. “I still have the photos on my phone.”

“So do I,” he said, flashing you a boyish grin. Then, as if doubting the accuracy of his own words, he promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling towards the top, brows furrowed with determination. It was a few seconds later that he found what he was looking for, turning the screen towards you with a triumphant noise. 

The picture had been taken outside the ceremony hall, set against the familiar sea of graduation gowns, but that was the only familiar thing about it. In the foreground stood just you and Baekhyun, not stiffly posing for the camera as you had been in all of the group shots that existed on your phone, but turned towards each other, faces bursting with elated smiles. Neither of you looked to be aware that there was even a camera on you. The you in the photo had your mouth half open in the tell-tale way it always did when you were about to laugh at the ridiculously corny jokes he loved to crack. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, partially from the glare of the sun overhead — the weather had been phenomenal for the usual gloominess of May — and partially in delight at your reaction, having cracked said joke. 

“I’ve never seen this one before. Did you forget to Airdrop this to me on the day?” you asked, a joking accusation colouring your voice. 

“My mum only sent it to me a whole month later. I didn’t even know she had taken these,” he said, zooming in to better see the expressions on your upturned faces. “We look so happy here,” he added, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“And young,” you agreed, but not without a sigh. The you of two years ago had yet to know the pains of having seven different bills to pay every month, and watching the money trickle out of your bank account like water from a leaking tap.

He gave you a gentle, teasing nudge with his elbow. “We’re not that old now. We could definitely still pass as twenty somethings.”

“That’s probably because we are still actually twenty somethings,” you countered with a laugh. 

There was an unprecedented ease with which you fell into conversation with Baekhyun. Despite the considerable gap of silence between now and the last time you had seen him, there was nothing in his demeanour or your own that indicated just how much time had passed. It was rather comforting to see a face from your university days, and even better that that face was still as gorgeous as ever.

You watched as he flicked through a few more photos from the day, mostly of him and his friends from university — one of whom was the other main event of tonight — until he landed on a picture of him with his girlfriend. You recognised the photo, seeing as you had been the one who offered to take it. He had an arm around her waist while she carried a huge bouquet with a teddy bear sitting atop the arrangement.

“Didn’t I help you order that thing?” you asked, pointing to the flowers in her hand. He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say much else, scrolling through to the next photos with his parents, which had also been taken by you. They stood on either side of him, beaming with pride, and then there were a few after that with his girlfriend as well, the four of them all standing together and looking picture-perfect. 

Perhaps the you of today would have chosen differently, found the balls to ask him out first — because what was the use in sitting and waiting around for the guy to make the first move? — and maybe you’d be the one in the photo instead, smiling up at the camera, an integral part of the family portrait. Maybe he’d be running his fingers across the inner curve of your wrist, instead of along the rim of the gin and tonic he had just ordered.

“She couldn’t make it today? Or was she not invited?” you asked, having not seen anyone walk in behind him. Although you hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else since he arrived, and if she had been here, you doubted she’d be all too pleased with how close your heads were, even if he was just showing you through his camera roll. With that in mind, you drew back slightly, just enough to catch the expression on his face twisted with an odd sort of surprise.

After a second or so, it melted into an easy-going grin.

“We broke up a while ago. A month or two after graduation, actually.”

Oh.

You and your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know — I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he reassured, waving off your clumsy apologies. “Things just didn’t work out and we weren’t right for each other. It was a pretty amicable break, all things considered. But now, I get to sleep however I want in my own bed, so I really can’t complain,” he added, fishing another laugh out of you.

“Nothing beats starfishing in your sleep after a long day,” you hummed in agreement. Wednesday nights in your bedroom after a full day of client meetings could attest to that.  

Baekhyun took a slow sip, pulling the drink into his mouth with a contemplative carefulness, and weighed up his words before he spoke again. 

“What about you? Still with Jinyoung?” he asked, tone light and regarding you with curious eyes. Without meaning to, you let out a groan, and his left eyebrow quirked with interest. 

“Don’t even go there,” you half-grimaced, reminded of the fling you had towards the end of fourth year with the business major. He was pretty, and had been nice enough, but by the fifth time he blew off spending time with you so that he could track the world stock indexes, it had become pretty clear that the two of you were on different paths in life. The sex was okay, but it had not been enough to warrant any more than a few late night rendezvous. For all you knew, he was probably now a very successful investment banker with 90 hour work weeks and making a shit-load of money you could only dream about having. 

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the counter. “Let’s just say, he was more interested in looking at his dividend yields than he was in me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over the rest of you again, taking in the ridges of your collarbone and the soft curve of your waist, the touch of his eyes hovering above your skin like a tangible thing. You tried your best to look unaffected, forcing yourself to remain still under the weight of his stare despite the way it was melting you down to your bones.

“He definitely did not have his priorities in order,” he said, once his eyes ended their journey and returned back to your face. “You’re much nicer to look at.”

His words settled beneath your skin, pulling a sweet warmth to your cheeks that slowly radiated through the rest of your body. You watched as his mouth curved around the rim of his glass again, and followed the path of the drink down the length of his throat. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

He rewarded you with a sly smile. 

“Then maybe you don’t know any better.”

Christ. Those were definitely bedroom eyes.

Your lips parted again, though you had little idea as to the words which were preparing to come out of them. Forming coherent and decent thoughts proved to be a great struggle when he looked like he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and you swore you could have crumpled right then and there if it hadn’t been for the bar stool underneath you. 

“Baekhyun, you’re finally here,” said a giggly Jongin, suddenly appearing between the two of you with Jennie in tow.

The tension from seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had formed. 

Someone (the birthday boy) had evidently made good use of the open bar to shed the self-imposed shell that came with introversion before the arrival of his friend. “I’m so, so happy to see you. We need to do some shots right now,” he said, now all serious, leaning over to peer at the drinks menu that he himself had signed off on. 

Baekhyun was the first to break eye contact, turning to flash Jongin a fond smile. “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, before downing the rest of his gin and tonic. 

The birthday girl requested tequila shots, and the bartender was quick to supply, lining up four glasses and filling them with the clear alcohol that was a recurring character in all your worst hangover episodes. You passed them around, but not before turning back around to the bar for one more thing. 

“And a vodka cranberry, please,” you added, catching the amused smile Baekhyun threw your way. 

“For old time’s sake.”

It was approaching the early hours of the morning when the remainder of the party retired to the hotel suite Jennie had booked for the night. One of her chill, moody, late-night R&B playlists had been queued up and was playing softly on the speaker system in the living room — she had a playlist for every conceivable mood and situation — and you could just make out the melody of a Daniel Caesar song, quiet and soothing against the nighttime.

“Okay, you win,” Baekhyun conceded with amusement, sitting up to grab the soju bottle from your outstretched hand. “I’ve never had someone throw up on me, at least not on the first date.” He settled back against the pillows, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small, slow sip. 

“Thanks, but it’s a victory I’d rather not have. There’s no pride in knowing I’m the only person I know to have a guy spew all over my shoes within ten minutes of meeting me,” you said, leaning back and letting your hands sink into the plush comforter. 

Some thirty or so minutes ago, you had found yourself in one of the smaller rooms of the suite, sitting across from Baekhyun with nothing but a few inches of egyptian cotton separating you. All night, you had felt his presence, whether it was the light brush of his warm fingers across the bare skin of your shoulder to grab your attention, or the weight of his stare from across the rooftop bar while you posed for pictures with Jennie and the rest of the girls. He had infiltrated your senses, occupying his own little space in the corner of your consciousness. Right now, having the whole of him so unobstructed before you, being the sole focus of his attention within the four walls of this small room — it was obvious that the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bringing a heady warmth to your face.

He levelled you with a careful look, and instead of handing the bottle back to you as he had done for the last thirty minutes, he set it onto the nightstand beside the bed with a soft clink. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think you should probably slow down,” he said, catching the curious tilt of your head. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you regret.”

You let a coy smile turn the corners of your mouth upward, shifting your weight off your hands and leaning towards him ever so slightly. “Trust me, I know my limits,” you said, and moved to grab the bottle. 

The hand you placed on the top of his thigh to steady yourself as you reached over him was deliberate, and you failed to hide the deepening of your smile when you felt the muscles flex beneath your fingers. You also didn’t miss the dip of his eyes below the neckline of your dress as you hovered over him, only pulling back once the cool glass of the bottleneck was firmly in your grasp. The glimmer in his eyes, previously light and boyish, had darkened imperceptibly.

You were playing a dangerous game, and you both knew it.

Beyond the door, Jennie’s playlist had changed to something a little more sultry, Kehlani’s honeyed voice now floating among the sounds of the city from below. His gaze remained on you as you raised the bottle to your lips, tilting it back and letting the tartness of the grape soju fill your mouth. 

The song wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There was a palpable shift in the room, a simmering heat gradually seeping into the atmosphere, brought on by your brazen touch. Still, he kept a safe distance, giving you the reins and the freedom to dispel the tension you had created. 

Which you had absolutely no intention to. 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, relishing in the way his eyes immediately left yours to track the movement. “You know,” you began, turning the bottle over in your hands, “I used to have a bit of a thing for you.”

His eyebrows raised with interest, but there was also a hint of surprise layered beneath.

“Third year, that data algorithms project. I thought a lot about asking you out, actually,” you continued, watching as his face slowly took on a smile at your words. A soft laugh escaped those pretty lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke that you weren’t in on. Without meaning to, you leaned in, drawn to the sound, wanting to understand the amusement behind it. 

“You wanna know something?” he asked, to which you weren’t sure if you had actually nodded, or if you had only imagined that you did, too preoccupied by the inviting curve of his mouth.

He was all too willing to comply with the unspoken request behind your curious eyes, moving forward at a languid pace, until his lips hovered just over the shell of your ear, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the fluttering pull of air with each of his inhales and exhales. You could smell him too, his cologne now infused with the scent of his skin over the course of the evening, smooth and sweet, and much too dizzying. 

His cheek brushed yours for a fraction of a second before you registered the conspiratorial whisper in your ear.

“So did I.”

You hadn’t even realised your own eyes had closed until they were fluttering open with his departure from your space. He pulled back, eyes gleaming with a furtive satisfaction like he had just let you in on some big, juicy, forbidden secret. It took a while for your chest to start pulling oxygen back into your lungs again. How he could render you so breathless when he had barely even touched you — you would’ve been embarrassed if not for the foggy warmth circling your head and radiating throughout the rest of your body, leaving you oblivious to everything but the sheer force of how much you wanted him.

He reached for the bottle, now almost empty, and you fought the flinch when you felt his fingers close around your hand. This time, you didn’t complain when he removed it from your grasp and set it back on the nightstand. The warmth of his hand did not leave yours, flipping it over to trail his fingers lightly across your knuckles. 

“These are pretty,” he murmured, thumbing at the rings decorating your fingers. You could only manage a noncommittal hum in response. His touch had stolen your voice right out of your chest, along with all the rationality usually contained inside your mind, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of your own blood thrumming in your veins, hot and fast beneath your skin. 

All night, you had danced around each other, stealing furtive glances and exchanging flirty smiles, carefully toeing around the edge of politeness and propriety. And maybe Baekhyun was just too polite, too respectful, letting you take the wheel and steer tonight in whichever direction you wanted, despite the want that was so clearly etched on his face. 

Surely, your face was a mirror of his own. Surely, he could tell.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, unfurling your fingers to lace his own through them. The press of his warm skin against yours had you light-headed and almost delirious, but you forced your gaze to stay steady on him while you tried to find your voice again.

“I’m thinking,” you began, low and breathy, “about how you’ve been eye-fucking me this whole night.” 

His sharp inhale was unmistakable above the quiet of the room. A meteor could have landed right outside the building and you wouldn’t even have noticed, held captive by his dangerous touch and the hunger flaring in his eyes. 

“And,” you continued, “how I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it ever since you shut that door.”

The second after the words left your mouth seemed to stretch across an eternity. You watched as he registered them, transfixed by how his whole body seemed to cloud over with desire, pushing out any remaining trace of restraint.

One moment you were sitting on the bed, revelling in the delicious tension you had created, and the next he had pulled you flush against him. His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, the self-control he had been so meticulously keeping to for the entire night disappearing the instant he felt your lips move against his own. You were no better, hands leaving his to fist desperately at the fabric of his shirt. An airy moan left your throat when his tongue brushed against yours, letting you taste the sweetness you had been imagining ever since you laid eyes on him on the rooftop. He swallowed the sound, the plump flesh of his bottom lip tightening into a pleased smile at your reaction.

Baekhyun pulled away first, lips leaving yours to trail across your cheek and down the side of your neck, where you felt the light graze of his teeth over the skin, and then the wetness of his tongue following the same path. His hands had snaked around you, fingers digging into the curve of your waist, keeping you in place while he nipped at you, drawing stilted gasps out of your parted mouth. When he pulled the flesh into the warmth of his mouth and sucked it to a nice, dark bruise, the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach flared, violent and hungry. 

You were going to lose your mind.

“You know, you could just try again,” you managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Ask me out.”

“Would you say yes?” he asked, and you felt his lips shape the words against your skin. They dragged back up the column of your throat, capturing your mouth again with another heated kiss that had your head spinning. He shifted, and your knees came to rest on either side of his leg, the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against the part of you that ached for his touch. In the haze of this moment, you didn’t know much, but you knew you would’ve said yes to absolutely anything to come out of that sweet, tempting mouth. 

Still, you played along, letting a devious smile pull the corners of your mouth upwards. “That depends on how tonight goes.”

He drew back slightly, fixing you with a wicked look that held promises he was nothing short of determined to fulfil. You could see yourself reflected in the darkness of his blown-out pupils, flushed and already wrecked just from the attention of his mouth. Anticipation and thrill jolted through you like lightning, zipping through every cell in your body as your mind drifted to what he might have in store behind those enticing eyes. 

You weren’t left wondering for long. His hands left your waist and moved to your calf, pushing up the silken fabric of your dress as they slowly crept upwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The brush of his fingers against your inner thigh drew another shuddering breath out of you. 

His next words were not unlike an oath.

“Then I’d better make tonight fucking spectacular.”

[moolovesyou]

absent jealousy | angus tully x reader

a/n: writing this while watching diary of wimpy kid hell yeah. thank you to @xfrankiesmithx-blog for requesting!!!!!! i hope this is what you wanted because i think i got carried away lol. i am too much of a sucker for casual angst and scene building.

s: your relationship with angus is anything but serious, until jealousy forces you both to face reality.

w: cursing, suggestiveness, angst (absent parent)

wc: 3k.

Winter break was supposed to be a time to relax. A time to have fun. And maybe, just maybe, a time to tolerate family. My plans were simple. My days were going to be spent on the Florida beaches with piña coladas and poolside napping. This was a yearly tradition since the 6th grade.

Unfortunately, those hot and sandy dreams were crushed when my dad phoned me at Wickline Academy.

"What the fuck, dad?" I slammed my hand onto the wall beside the telephone.

"Language!" He huffed from the other end. A crackly sigh could be heard. "Listen, we just can't afford it. We need the money to keep you enrolled next semester."

My eyes watered. I blinked rapidly to prevent any tears from spilling out.

"I'm sorry, honey." My dad spoke with sorrow. "Money is tight ever since-. . . your mom. . ."

The call went silent.

It had been 3 months and he still couldn't say it. It was embarrassing for both of us to admit.

Left us. Since she disappeared off the face of the earth with my dad's wallet and my allowance. For the last 3 months, anger has just been festering within me like a cauldron of rage.

Now, I had to spend Christmas alone. If that wasn't already bad enough, it turned out the entirety of Wickline had to be fumigated due to a nasty roach problem. This landed every holdover from Wickline into the lion's den that is Barton.

Hunham stood in front of all 9 of us. 5 boys from Barton and 4 girls from Wickline. Much to my surprise, he was there.

Angus Tully.

We had met 2 years ago at a winter fundraiser. I had been serving drinks for the patrons when Angus waltzed over. From then on, the nature of our relationship was afflicted by our teenage hormones. Every time we saw each other it was a display of lingering eye contact and flirty comments. I never knew if he was serious.

"There will be no fornication, no hanky-panky, no coupling. So help me god, if any of you even stand one inch too close I will make you sleep in the snow." Hunham's voice boomed. He leaned forward, scooching a girl and a boy away from each other.

Angus and I locked eyes for a moment. He furrowed his brows for a second, as if he was confused at my presence. Then he smirked.

"Now, it is time to fuel your young brains with knowledge!"

A chorus of groans erupted from us.

We sat separated. Boys on one side of the study room, girls on the other. Hunham sat in the corner overlooking all of us. A lack of interest fogged all of our minds. Everyone was kind of just looking at their books instead of actually reading.

I glanced up. From across the room, a boy with long dirty blond hair waved at me. I think his name was Jason. He was pretty cute. I waved back, a small smile playing on my lips.

A curly-headed Angus turned around, head snapping between me and Jason. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Later on, we got to spend some time away from studying. We had all grouped together, walking through the snowy woods. Two of the other girls had cozied up next to Kountz. I was collecting fallen pinecones from the ground.

"What brings you here? Kingdom banished their princess?" A voice chuckled from behind. My head flicked around. Angus leaned against a tree, wielding a branch as a sword.

I scoffed, walking up to him. He gazed down at me in amusement. A grin covered his face. A grin that royally pissed me off. I shouldn't have taken it so seriously; but the rage inside of me, which was previously set to simmer, was now boiling; and Angus Tully was stirring the pot.

"I could ask the same about you, asshole. Did your family wish upon a star for you to go away?" I spat. His amusement shrunk, turning into a nasty frown.

"Hey, guys."

The both of us turned around, facing a chirpy and oblivious Jason. He flashed a smile at me.

"Hi!" I shoved Angus with my shoulder as I trudged through the snow to the jock. "Jason, is it?"

From behind, in a small mocking tone, Angus whispered, "Jason, is it?" He didn't know when to stop, did he?

"Do you want to play football with me?" Jason patted the ball in his hand, handing it out to me.

"Sure!" I nodded excitedly.

"Do you even know how to play?" Angus muttered. He had a permanent sour scowl on his face.

"You don't have to project your inabilities, Tully." I flashed a fake smile. "Or, would you like to join us?"

He crossed his arms. His nose was red, making him look like an extremely unhappy Rudolph.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, turning his back to us and walking over to the younger boys.

Needless to say, I was confused. We would have playful fights, yeah. But, this wasn't playful at all. I almost felt bad for him. Jealous, much?

We weren't official. I wasn't even sure if he knew we had a thing going on. Either way, it just wasn't time for anything serious. Jason was sweet and dumb enough for a quick dose of validation.

For the rest of the time spent outside, Jason and I passed the football around. He was fun and extremely hot. I mean, he was the type of attractive that turned Wickline Academy into a slip n' slide. But other than that, we had nothing in common. He was this flamboyant display of brawn and I found spelling bees fun. Every so often, I'd catch Angus staring at us from the other side of the courtyard.

Soon enough, Hunham called everyone in for dinner. We were actually allowed to sit beside each other. It felt like an awkward family dinner. Except we weren't family. So, it was more awkward.

Jason was already sat, so I decided to take my opportunity and sit beside him. He was chatting it up with one of the other Wickline girls. I huffed, slouching in my seat.

"Is this seat taken?" A familiar deep voice spoke from my left. Oh, great.

Angus hunched down, pulling the chair out and sitting himself down. He had a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. He leaned close to me, an uninterested look on his face. I could feel his breath on my cheek.

"What's wrong, princess?" He licked his chapped lips.

"You're here. I'd rather have a block of coal." I grunted.

Angus narrowed his eyes at me, before fluttering his lashes. He held his hand to his heart, "You flatter me."

I stuck my tongue out at him, toying with the napkin in front of me.

"So, Jason? Really?" He whispered inconspicuously. Mary set plates on the table, earning a small 'thank you' from him. "Didn't know you could stoop so low."

"I liked you, didn't I."

"Liked?"

His brows raised, a shocked expression on his face. All his wittiness had vanished in the blip of a moment. He averted his gaze to his plate of food. His curls hung over his face.

Of course, I didn't mean that. But he didn't know that.

I opened my mouth to speak, but at that point Hunham slammed the table for something Kountz had said.

For the rest of the dinner I kept my eye on him, he would poke and nudge his food with his fork but never actually take a bite. We didn't talk for the rest of the day.

The following morning everyone joined Jason on his family trip. My dad wasn't too keen on the idea of me spending an entire holiday with boys.

In the end, it was me and Tully. It was weird between us. The days were quiet. There were many times that I tried to apologize, but he would always run off or turn away every moment I tried.

I was sat in the kitchen with Mary Lamb, helping her bake brownies for a Christmas party. I mixed the dry ingredients, gritting my teeth as I thought about everything. It felt like my world was crumbling.

"You alright there, sweetie?" Mary questioned. She was cutting potatoes for the next day's dinner.

I groaned.

"Everything sucks. This wasn't where I planned to be. I didn't plan to be here today or to be in this stupid black hole that my life is." I whisked angrily. Some of the mixture spilled over the side of the bowl.

"Some of this gotta' do with that Tully boy?" She whistled. "I've seen the way y'all act."

I blushed slightly, "Yeah. I guess-. . . I said something i didn't mean. But, I don't get why he's so upset. We don't have anything real going on between us."

"Do you want something real?" Mary put down her knife. I poured the mix into a pan.

Do I want something real with Angus? In the last two years, I hardly learned much about him. We had covered up any real connection under flashy and casually insulting romance.

What had I learned about him? He is Angus. He's a pinch too loud in a quiet room. He walks like a newborn giraffe. He manages to piss everyone off in a 2 mile radius.

But with every taunt and quip he'd deliver, there was that toothy grin accompanying it. There were small moments where he would help the underclassmen with their assignments; and he always found time to find me.

I hadn't even given him a chance of thought. Dread filled my heart, overflowing into my veins like a dam had just broke.

"Would he even want anything?" I leaned on the palm of my hand, glancing outside the window. The snowfall landed softly on the windowsill. It reminded me of the first time he walked up to me.

.

.

.

"Is there any alcohol in this?" A boy with shaggy brown hair pointed. His pants were too short, as if he had just had a growth spurt overnight.

"Does fruit punch fuel your system?" I offered a cup. My nails were coated with pastel polish.

"I'm more of an apple juice kinda guy." He tugged on his loose tie. "I'm Angus."

"I'm Y/N".

"Do you wanna smoke a cigarette behind the bleachers?" The kid asked.

"I don't have a jacket." We looked outside the window. It was evening. The snowfall was heavy. We could hardly see past the courtyard.

"Take mine." He shrugged his jacket off, holding it in his trembling hands. His brown eyes were completely widened in awe. I took the jacket from his grasp, putting it on.

"Thanks Angus!" I chirped. "Come on, before they notice we're gone."

I grabbed his hand, interlocking our fingers. His hands were cold and clammy. But, funnily enough, so were mine. We ran outside, hiding under the bleachers as we joked about our classmates.

.

.

.

"Baby, all I know is he's going through as much as you are right now. You'll never know unless you try."

Mary's voice lingered in my head as I got dressed for the party. She was right. I had lost so much control in the last 3 months of my life. I was not going to let this pass me by. I was going to spite my way into Angus's heart.

In the car, Angus fought to sit in the passenger seat. Ultimately, Mary glared at him with such authority he cowered and clamored into the backseat with me. Instantly, he folded his arms and turned to look out the window.

Okay, this is fine? This is fine. I'll just sneak him aside at the party and fix this. I didn't want Hunham and Mary awkwardly listening in while I confessed my undying admiration for him.

We were greeted at the door by Miss Crane. She welcomed us happily. I looked around. This place was packed. Christmas music flew around the house like a jolly paper airplane.

"Y/N, can you take these to the kitchen please?" Miss Crane gave me the brownies we had baked. I glanced at Angus, who already looked out of place.

"Sure!" My lips pressed together into a thin line. I hurried over, having to pause for houseguests to step aside and move out of the way. This place was a goddamn maze. My forearms grew sore as I searched aimlessly. Then, like a glowing light at the end of the tunnel, I saw the kitchen. I practically threw the platter onto the counter.

When I returned back to the door, everyone was gone. How hard could it be to find a 6-foot tall teenager? I scooched and muttered 'excuse me' way too many times to count. After some asking around, I had made my way to the basement.

There were kids coloring and gluing crafts on a big round table. Others run around with plastic wands and swords. I was nearly stabbed by one of the children. Then I saw something I wish I didn't have to see.

Angus and a brunette locked lips in a corner of the basement. I completely and utterly froze. The dread that had consumed me earlier had solidified and left me still like a heartbroken fossil. They leaned away, and the girl caught my eye.

"Oh, hello! I'll be right with you!" She chirped. She had a blush on her face. My blood boiled. Angus's head whipped around. His eyes widened. He analyzed my face for any sign of a reaction. I closed my eyes and took a composing breath. I whipped around, stepping back up the stairs.

"Y/N! Give me one second." His steps boomed up the stairs behind me. "Come on, slow down."

I stepped out into the cold night. I tried to slam the front door behind me, but Angus shoved his foot between the gap.

"Ow. Really?" He mumbled. He grabbed my arms and stopped me in my tracks. "Y/N. Please."

I kept my back to him. I couldn't look at him. Would his face have that same blush she had? Would his lips be pink? Would he look happy? He sighed, jogging in front of me. He towered over me, a concerned look on his face. He looked almost devastated.

"What's wrong?" He mumbled.

"What's wrong?" I repeated, raising my voice. "You were sucking the life force out of that girl!"

"You're overreacting." He flung his arms in the air. Angus chewed on his lip anxiously. "Plus, last time I checked, why should you care? You were getting real cozy with Jason."

"That wasn't anything." I scoffed.

"Were we anything?" He whispered. His eyes had reddened, tears threatening to stream out.

"What?"

"You said you liked me." Angus whimpered. "What happened? Did I do something?"

"No." I blurted. "You did nothing. I-. . . I was just angry, Angus. I didn't mean that."

He stayed silent. The snow got caught on his curls. He looked more gorgeous than ever. It felt like we had snuck out to the bleachers all over again. Fuck it.

"Jesus, Angus. We have to stop being complete fucking idiots." I covered my face and groaned into my hands. "It's not a surprise that I like you. You think I would still be talking to you after 2 years if I didn't absolutely fucking adore you? I'm angry that everyone else is leaving me and I don't want you to either. I don't want you to disappear. I need you. I've needed you ever since we smoked together for the first time. I was just too fucking dumb to realize it. I need you to realize it too. I need you to realize Jason has nothing to offer me. "

His eyebrows raised slowly. I stared at him with wide eyes as I caught my breath.

"Was that weird? I'm sorry if-"

Angus cut me off by crashing his lips into mine. He had cold lips, but the feeling it gave me sent warmth throughout my body. His arms wrapped around my waist as we stumbled backwards. My back thudded against a wall as Angus pushed closer against me. I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling the strands of hair slightly for any sense of stimulation. His chest pressed against mine and I could hardly breathe. But neither of us pulled away. He pushed his tongue into my mouth with fervor. Little grunts escaped his lips.

The slam of the front door pushed us away from each other. A guest waved goodbye to whoever was on the porch, oblivious to our raunchy escapade. Our gazes flicked back to each other. We both had that 'deer in headlights' look. The two of us burst into laughter. Angus threw his head back cackling.

"Seems like you had a practice." I remarked.

"Shut up."

"Too soon?" I grimaced. He nodded. His hands traveled up to my face, caressing my cheeks. His fingers were crusted over with a green pigment. "Why the fuck are your fingers covered in paint?"

"Oh shit, sorry. Fingerpainting." Angus pulled his hands back, stuffing them into his pockets. His lips were red and slightly wet.

"I have one question." I prodded.

"Hm?"

"Do you like me?"

Angus rolled his eyes, "I just sucked the complete life force out of you. When are you gonna stop being a complete idiot and realize I like you?"

"Touché." I smiled. A heartwarming smile covered his face. He leaned forward, planting a small peck on my forehead, before resting his chin on my head.

I wrapped my arms around his torso. Once again, that familiar memory popped into my head. I felt the same warmth from 2 years ago. This time it wasn't a cigarette. It was Angus. And suddenly it all felt worth it. Every bit of anger. Every bit of sass. Every bit of jealousy.

"So, are you gonna kiss me some more or do I need to get you a brain for Christmas, scarecrow?"

"So needy, princess."

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off. 

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers. 

Maybe things weren't really looking up. 

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up. 

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks. 

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final. 

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test. 

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse. 

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day. 

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called. 

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again. 

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook. 

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student. 

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months. 

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe. 

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you. 

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.” 

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee. 

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.” 

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink. 

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles. 

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship. 

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers. 

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break. 

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck. 

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years. 

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles. 

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles. 

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit. 

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in. 

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe. 

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side. 

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.” 

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea. 

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance. 

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page. 

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?” 

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.” 

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.” 

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.” 

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page. 

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture. 

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes. 

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago. 

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not. 

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him. 

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure. 

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion. 

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up? 

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between. 

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong. 

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders. 

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion. 

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room. 

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned. 

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.” 

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders. 

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest. 

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit. 

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you. 

For what? 

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out. 

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin. 

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion. 

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point. 

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.” 

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you. 

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling. 

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue. 

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet. 

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too. 

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?” 

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?” 

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him. 

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head. 

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.” 

 “I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?” 

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates. 

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him. 

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow. 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.” 

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side. 

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end. 

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “ 

“Who?” 

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort. 

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space. 

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back. 

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years. 

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it. 

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now. 

He cares. 

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has. 

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage?  Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved? 

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other. 

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing. 

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same. 

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble. 

You're his girlfriend now. 

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too. 

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one. 

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room. 

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him. 

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you. 

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one. 

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand. 

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.” 

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks. 

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.” 

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face. 

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away. 

Your big “what if.” 

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love. 

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt. 

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures,  his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder. 

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt. 

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste. 

He could never wait. And he never did. 

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks. 

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine. 

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub. 

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment. 

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop. 

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment. 

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again. 

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows. 

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.” 

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything. 

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest. 

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end. 

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him. 

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on. 

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.” 

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart. 

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.” 

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.” 

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?” 

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs. 

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt. 

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head. 

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room. 

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment. 

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy. 

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up. 

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. 

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book. 

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds. 

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.” 

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book. 

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. 

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list. 

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for? 

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look. 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.” 

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book. 

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood. 

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.” 

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff. 

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?” 

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate. 

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.” 

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.” 

If only it were that easy. 

“I’d love to but he never has time.” 

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter. 

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–” 

“No, I’m not busy now.” 

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous. 

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground. 

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you. 

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table. 

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying. 

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.” 

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.” 

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.” 

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. 

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public. 

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?” 

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.”  You add bitterly. 

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.” 

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.” 

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.” 

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.” 

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.” 

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”  

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table. 

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?” 

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?” 

“No but it was basically implied.”  You emphasize. 

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner. 

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket. 

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside. 

Namjoon is happy. 

His friends are happy. 

Things in his life were finally looking up. 

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. 

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side. 

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too. 

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

[mrsnancywheeler]

ambrosia wine // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this request

Hello! Congrats on the milestone!!!! Can I request a smut for Finnick with the song “ambrosia wine” by Madds Buckley! (Idk why it reminds me of his capitol persona lol)

masterlist

2.1k words

warnings: smut, more smut, past victor!reader, district 9!reader, sexual tension, reader thinks says she hates Finnick a lot in her head but literally all they do is flirt, dom!Finnick mostly but switch!finnick and reader implied at the end, pnv, unprotected, f!masturbation, use of good girl, degrading, light thigh slapping, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Of course you knew who Finnick Odair was, everyone knew who Finnick Odair was. Maybe you even knew him more than most since he'd been nothing if not an ever present thorn in your side. Every Capitol party victors were forced too, each year you would mentor, since every so lucky you was District 9’s youngest, most beloved female victor, which really meant it had been over 20 years since the last one. So every year it was you, and Finnick was so popular that the Capitol always wanted him.

This year you'd barely been able to escape him at all, he'd tracked you down before the tribute parade had even begun. “I thought we were supposed to let the tributes have the glory for once." His honey sweet voice dripped into your ears and you turned around to face him. It was better than staring at the ridiculous costumes your tributes had been dressed in.

“I don't think I'm the one who's distracting.” His shirt was half open and it was impossible to miss how eyes all around were glued to him, with all of his endless charisma. It was also hard to push down the fact that you wanted to be the only one looking at him like that.

Finnick's head tilted, mockingly, as he stepped forward. His fingers traced up the edges of the golden fabric on your plunging neckline and you reminded yourself not to shiver, you couldn't let him overtake your senses. Not again. “It's not like you've left anything to the imagination, pretty girl." The way he always made his voice endlessly seductive was sickening.

You leaned in your face so close that your lips would've brushed against his with another inch, “I think there's a difference between imagining and remembering." You'd always played the game back, but it was so difficult when he sported that cocky smirk.

“Sugar cube?" He asked it, but had already picked one from his pocket and softly pressed it to your lips. He was a menace to living peacefully and it really gave you no choice but to open your mouth just enough for him to slip the tiny block of sugar inside your mouth. “Don't distract too much, I want my tributes to make an entrance this year." Then that terrible man was sucking stray specks of sugar off of his fingers as he walked away.

“That was Finnick Odair." The female tribute, Anona, said in shock as she stepped into the carriage.

"That is in fact, Finnick Odair.” He didn't amaze you anymore, well maybe he did, not in the way it was when the Capitol Darling had first spoken to you, but a different type of amazement. That he was so full of himself yet paid so much attention, that he was insufferable yet you wanted to give into every temptation you'd ever had around him. As you tried to watch the parade your eyes kept finding him, he always stood out, even in the most crowded room. Sometimes he'd catch your eye and you'd look away like you hadn't been staring, a soft movement to feign innocence, but then you'd feel his burning eyes on you. It made it so difficult to not just look back over, let yourself succumb to the urges that wanted to let themselves be known.

By the end of the parade you felt physically hot and sick of yourself for letting yourself be so overwhelmed after one small interaction. Then you'd both made eye contact as you began to bring your tributes to the elevator and the wink he shot you with his self-satisfying smirk, internally it made you want to melt right there. Instead you rolled your eyes and blew him a kiss. Accepting the fact you'd have to fall into the yearly routines of endless flirting and acting like you didn't get yourself off thinking about his touch or the way

You'd just finished getting ready for bed when there was a knock at your door. You opened up to see the very subject of all your problems. There in all of his glory, leaning up against the door frame. “You shouldn't be here." You glared, arms crossed.

“Hello to you too." Finnick clicked his tongue, “Nobody seemed to mind letting me in or telling me which room is yours."

“Doesn't mean that you're wanted."

He hummed, leaning further into the room, “No, but the way you were eye fucking me says I am."

“Oh, aren't you presumptuous." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“More perceptive." He was so close now, it made you want to give in. But you couldn't. “I know you want to let me in, in the bedroom, in between those pretty thighs of yours and I'm happy to oblige.” Your breath hitched, the things he did to you were heinous. “C’mon pretty girl, don't you remember last year? How good I made you feel, I can do that again."

Your faces were so close that his nose was about to brush up against yours and you could feel your face burning up. “No."

He leaned back and you mourned the loss of his proximity. “No, you want me to go, or no, you don't remember. Because I can leave or jog your memory." Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, so you could try to rid yourself of the way your stomach churned each time you saw him.

You did remember of course, but it was an enticing offer. An offer that made your thighs clench together. So you stepped away from blocking the door and he got the message, smirking like the egotistical jerk he was as he walked inside.

His fingers tilted your head up, “You're going to have to use your words for me though." Fuck him, it was humiliating to have to talk about what you wanted, to beg him for to.

“Stay." You whispered and finally he kissed you. His lips were addictive as he took the lead, passionate and impatient like he was starved and devouring you whole. As he pushed you down on the bed, staying on top of you until he pulled away. Leaving your breathing heavily, but wishing he'd kept going.

He slid off your pajama pants, “You're such a liar." You looked at him, confused. “Acting like you don't remember last year, I thought maybe you were gonna be a good girl for me. But you're just as pathetic as always." His fingers undoing the buttons on the silk pajama shirt as you tried to catch the breath you were still at a loss for. “I bet you wore that dress today just because you hoped I would see it, like a slut." You couldn't stop yourself from the stifled whimper which you regretted when he had that signature cock smirk on. “See, I remember things about you, like how you're all talk, and how wet it makes you when I'm mean.”

"Finnick, shut up and do something.” You whined and he hit your inner thigh.

"Don't get all mouthy with me, don't you want to try to show me you can be good so you can get what you want?"

“Sorry." You frowned and he mocked it with own faux pout.

“Then be a good girl, it's easy, you just have to do what I say." You nodded slowly and he smiled. “Good, I want you to touch yourself. Show me how wet you are for me." His hands spread open your thighs, where your panties were obviously soaked through.

You laughed in annoyance, “If I was going to get myself off, I'd do it by myself.” What the fuck was wrong with him?

He shrugged, "Okay, you can do it yourself then, I'll leave, and you'll just have to use your fingers thinking of me all night.”

Finnick began to stand and you quickly stuck your hand between your legs to rectify the situation. He sank in between your legs, like he was trying to get a full view of the show. “To the side or off?"

His fingers pressed to your clothed pussy and you couldn't help but moan, “Tsk, so loud. You've already ruined them, take ‘em off for me, pretty girl. Nice and slow."

You hated him for making you do all this work, but obeyed, shivering when the cold air hit your bareness. “Finnick please just touch me."

He smiled, leaning in and you could feel his breath fanning across you, “No. Spread those pretty pussy lips for me, baby, and touch yourself. The way you would when you thought about me.” You huffed, but listened, letting out a shaky moan when your fingers began to circle your clit. “Good girl.”

You leaned back, closing your eyes, letting your other hand slip down to use your fingers. "Oh my god, Finnick, please.” You cried.

"Put another finger in for me, baby. Fuck yourself on them.” It was easy to get lost in the feeling even if you were desperate for his touch. "One more finger, got to take at least three to get you ready for me, pretty girl.” He wasn't getting you ready for him, you getting yourself ready. It was humiliating to hear how wet you were when you forced another finger inside, the way you moaned, face burning up. "Gonna come for me just like this.”

You shook your head emphatically, "Can't, I need you.”

"Then you'll keep going like this and then maybe I'll take care of you.” You whined in frustration, circling your bundle of nerves and curling your finger inside of you as you fucked yourself on them. It was so much you wanted to close your legs and he wouldn't let you, tight grip holding them open harshly. "Are you close, baby?”

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, please Finn.” You bucked your hips and he chuckled. "Wanna be good.”

"Being so good, music to my ears.” You kept babbling stuff you couldn't understand until you were in a white hot bliss. "There you go, baby. Right over the edge.” He pulled your fingers out of you and he was licking them clean. "Taste so good.” Your heart was pounding in your chest, echoing around your head.

He stood up, taking off his pants. “Need you inside me, so bad. Been so long."

"Might need you to take care of me first. Made me so hard.” You furrowed your eyebrows together, it was frustrating enough to make your eyes water.

“You're such an ass!" You exclaimed, hitting the sheets.

“Don't act out, I'm going to give you what you want. Just like seeing how frustrated you get, makes up for how much of a tease you always are.”

"So are you.”

"Oh, I know.”

“Finnick, if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I'm gonna make you sorry you showed up at my door."

“Enticing, I'll have to take you up on that at a different time." You laughed incredulously and he kissed you. This time it was a lot slower, a lot less head dizzying. "You ready?” He whispered between his lips being on yours as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Yeah." You nodded and you both moaned into the kiss when he pushed in.

“Feel so good around me, baby." He began thrusting in and your fingernails clawed into his shoulders. “So tight for me."

“Just for you."

“Just for me?" He kissed your jaw, “No one takes care of you as well as I do, do they?" He groaned, picking up his pace and you shook your head.

The overstimulation you already had made you so ready to go over the edge, "So, so close, Finn.”

"Yeah? Me too, baby. Wanna come with me?”

"Yeah.” You panted out, pressing your lips to his. He was so perfect and horrible and made you feel so good, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming when you came to the edge and he kissed you to try to cover them.

Once you both had somewhat come down from the high he was chuckling. “What?"

“They're gonna think you're being murdered, screaming your head off."

You playfully pushed at his chest, “Oh shut up."

“Make me." And you were sure it would be a long night and that this would certainly not be the last time Finnick showed up at your door.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thanks for reading 💋 idk how I feel about this one, smut is so hard to write bc I feel like it's never good enough, it makes me nervous but I've been trying to like do it more for y'all. anyways if you enjoyed reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are all much appreciated. asks and requests are open I've got some exciting requests coming even if I'm slow as fuck. love y'all 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

[yaseraphine]

astro observations 3 - appearance and vibes / leo risings focus

WHY IS EVERYONE LEO RISING ???

(REMINDER : I am NOT a professional astrologer. Everything I say are my personal opinions and not facts.)

Hi guys !

First of all, I wanted to say sorry for not posting in 1 month. My 2 weeks and a half trip was not the most relaxing to say the least. But I still had fun overall!

Now, let's get down to the nitty gritty of things : Today's post will be about Leo risings, and like I said in the last post about Virgo risings (you can check it if you want here), this post will not be a description of their physical characteristics and vibes but instead be an open conversation to answer one of my biggest astrological questions : Are Leo risings the most common rising sign ? (Libra and Virgo risings will also be part of the conversation but not at the center of it, obviously)

This question has been bothering me for a while now. It feels like whenever i meet a group of people, i click on a few random profiles on astro seek , I, more often than not, encounter a bunch of Leo risings.

Even on instagram when some random people reveal their big three in their stories, or on their bios it feels like 4 times out of 10 it's a leo rising ?

I don't know if i am tripping but i feel like , after studying and learning about astrology for a little more than two years and doing, seeing and dissecting so many birth charts, i recently came to the conclusion that Leo risings might the most common rising sign.

Actually, this conversation seems to not be reserved to Leo risings only since Virgo and Libra risings appear to be also REALLY common rising signs.

-> EXEMPLE :

To give a real life exemple , last year i knew the rising signs of 20 people in my grade. To show you clearly how common some signs seem to be, i am going to make a list of each student next to their rising signs, calling each 20 of them student 1, student 2, ....

-> MY RELATIONSHIPS WITH THOSE STUDENTS :

Within those 20 students, most of them were good acquaintances and a minority were my friends. I did not have really profound relationships with most of them.

/!\ i am aware that only 20 people is FAR from being enough evidence to prove my point but i am just trying to show WHY i have been questionning the possibility of leo risings, alongside with libra and virgo, being the most common rising signs, and not prove that they are the most common because i clearly do not know and i need your help lol /!\

Student 1 : Gemini rising

Student 2 : Virgo rising

Student 3 : Scorpio rising

Student 4 : Virgo rising

Student 5 : Leo rising

Student 6 : Libra rising

Student 7 : Cancer rising

Student 8 : Capricorn rising

Student 9 : Libra rising

Student 10 : Virgo rising

Student 11 : Virgo rising

Student 12 : Cancer rising

Student 13 : Aquarius rising

Student 14 : Taurus rising

Student 15 : Leo rising

Student 16 : Leo rising

Student 17 : Aries rising

Student 18 : Leo rising

Student 19 : Sagittarius rising

Student 20 : Cancer rising

*A few of them , i am not sure if they're 100% accurate since they gave me an approximative time of birth.

-> RESULTS :

You can CLEARLY see that Leo, Virgo and Libra risings are the most common. (cancer risings seem also really common here)

Out of the 20 students , 10 are Leo, Virgo or Libra risings. They make up almost a majority of the risings, which is crazy regarding the fact that they are 12 possible rising signs, and only 3 out of the 12 make up half of that list.

The funny coincidence here is that , in the zodiac wheel, they are all one after another :

Leo-> Virgo -> Libra

Now , I remember seeing a while ago a youtube short explaining that the rarest rising signs are allegedly Aries , Pisces and Aquarius risings. I'll put the link if you want to watch it but to summerize she says that basically : Every single day for two hours (approx.), each one zodiac sign constellation rises on the Eastern Horizon. If a baby is born during the 2 hour chunk when Gemini is rising, that baby will have a gemini rising. The particularity that makes Aries, Pisces and Aquarius so rare is that those constellations only rise for one hour (approx.) each day. Since most of the signs rise for a longer amont of time (2 hours), you have a higher chance of having those signs on your ascendant and logically, a lower chance of having Aquarius, Pisces and Aries on your ascendant.

At the beginning, I said that I studied astrology for a little more than two years HOWEVER I haven't really studied (if not at all) the more "technical side of astrology", what the discipline and knowledge requires to be practiced correctly and accurately and to make the best interpretations possible.

That is one of the reasons why I am coming here : to seek help from professional astrologers who can not only clarify if what the girl in the youtube shorts is saying is true or not and why it is true, but also to tell me if my theory makes any sense, if there's some truth in it - > basically, to give us answers.

Now, even if you're not a certified astrologer you are still obviously welcomed to partake in this conversation ! I will be more than happy to answer to all of you guys and to get your intake on this conversation <33

Let's use our brains together and come up collectively with an answer !

Remember guys : STAY BLESSED 💅🏼✨ ! (period ha! 👅💋)

[wings-of-ink]

Checking in (*Asks info/update also below)

Hello dears! I hope you are all well. I just wanted to pop in since I've been a bit quiet lately and let you know that I'm still here (watching your every move).

I've taken a nice rest since Chapter 4's release to take care of stuff at home and to be a sleepy bitch, lol. I have still managed to outline more detail into chapter 5 and even write up a little scene for an encounter you'll have later in that chapter (cue violins).

Other than that, I've been reading some other works that have been on my list along with some other IFs recommended to me while I plot something nefarious.

*If you are one of my Askers, I'm also here to say that the inbox might get closed completely for a bit soon. I think I may leave it open until this weekend though (maybe until like Saturday around mid-day). I will still request that reaction asks remain limited. I know I've still been accepting a few though I paused those, but I'm only doing them at my absolute leisure. I have a few in my inbox now that I will chew on this week.

Not to fear though, this isn't a permanent thing. I am going on a vacation with my spouse the first week of September. It's our first "real" vacation, and is sort of a late honeymoon (9 years later *cough*). So, you may not hear from me much as I prepare for the trip and then actually go on it. Don't fret, I'll bring you a souvenir.

While that's cooking, I will continue outlining chapter 5 and then get to writing it. I have something else I've been thinking on, and I may poll you all about it soon once I've gathered my thoughts (all good things, no worries). Once chapter 5 is out, I will take a longer break from GC and play around with some things for a second IF project (I haven't chosen which to do for sure, but I am leaning towards the winner of the last poll for our serial killer drama).

Anyway, I think that's all I got for now. Take care (and take naps, lol)! ^_^

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 9

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, some smut.

Word Count: 6,553

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Since I haven't posted anything on this series for the last two weeks, I thought I'd get this chapter out to you guys early, instead of waiting for Saturday. I hope you think it was worth the wait. The last chapter will be posted on Saturday, April 13. Thanks for all your support of this series! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

3 weeks later

He’d lost them. They were gone. 

Their screams echoed in his ears as he came awake with a start, breathing hard and fast.

Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot, feeling Y/N shifting beside him. 

“Dean?” Her voice was squeaky and thick with sleep. 

She sat up and began rubbing her hand across his back as she moved to sit beside him. He didn’t need to explain why he was awake and breathing as though he’d run a mile.

Y/N kissed his shoulder and he felt the heat of her lips through his thin cotton t-shirt. “It was just a dream.” She kissed him again. “Just a bad dream. Everything’s okay.”

Dean nodded absently and then turned towards her and cupped her cheek in his hand; he needed to touch her, feel she was real. He kissed her lips, soft and brief before he turned to look at Emma sleeping across the tent. She looked so tiny, dwarfed even by the small cot.

Dean stood up and crossed to her. Her little limbs were completely tangled up in the blankets and her head was nearly hanging off the side of the cot. Dean leaned down and adjusted her position to something comfier. He untangled her and tucked the blanket around her properly before reaching up and pushing back her messy brown curls from her forehead. He trailed his knuckles over her soft cheek and took comfort in the sleepy sigh that escaped her.

He stood staring at her a moment before he felt Y/N come up behind him and take hold of his bicep, pressing another kiss into the muscle there. He turned to look at her and the concern in her gaze was obvious, making him feel guilty. He bent to kiss her again, more lingering this time, as he buried his fingers in her soft, silky hair.

She kissed him back and wound her arms around his waist. When he pulled away, the warmth of their kisses had burned away some of the worry in her eyes and he was glad. He kissed her forehead and nodded towards the cot. 

“Sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep.”

She cocked her head and shot him a look with an arched brow. “So should you.”

Dean lifted one corner of his mouth in his best attempt at a smile.

“N’ah, I got my four hours. I’m good.” When Y/N opened her mouth to argue again he spoke before she could. “I have some stuff I gotta work on. So, you go back to bed.”

He pecked her lips once more and then stepped out of her arms, grabbing his jacket as he headed out; March may have been going out like a lamb, but there was still a brisk chill in the air outside the warm tent.

He knew he’d never be able to concentrate on any of the things that he actually should be doing so he just walked. He walked all through the camp, weaving between tents and nodding at the odd person who was out and about like him. He went to the garage and thought about working on Baby, but there really wasn’t any more he could do until they could go out and find her four new tires.

So he kept walking. He walked and walked until he came to the river. Most of its winter ice was broken up and within a couple weeks people would be able to come for cold baths once again which would be welcomed happily after months of unsatisfying basin baths. 

It was probably dangerous for him to be so far from camp without another  person, but he had his gun strapped to his thigh as always and the silence and wide open space around the edge of the river was soothing. He needed an escape from the relentless visions that swam in his mind’s eye. Horrific visions of Y/N and Emma being torn apart right in front of him.

He dropped to the ground to sit; his shoulders were bent and he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to gouge out the images. 

Every night for weeks now he’d had the same kinds of dreams. There was never any specific situation in the dreams, at least nothing he could remember. But he just knew Y/N and Emma were being hurt and it was his fault. 

Cas still hadn’t heard anything from the angels, no angel radio, and no contact from anyone. But his powers seemed to be mostly back. He still couldn’t teleport, but he could heal - they’d tested it again just to make sure it wasn’t a one time fluke. But Dean cut a long gash in his arm and the angel had mended it quickly and easily. Cas could also tap people to sleep, and he said he’d begun to “see like an angel” again. Dean wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded important. 

There was no doubt the angels were back on earth. And they’d be coming for him.

***

Later that afternoon Dean sat at their table, as Y/N planned out a lesson for the next day. But his mind was still miles away, desperately turning possibilities over and over in his mind. For the last couple of months, since they figured out the truth about Y/N, he, Y/N and Cas had been working on a game plan for how to track down other younger generation psychic kids, as well as figuring out how to go about searching for former scientists, doctors, researchers, or anyone who might know enough to try and create a vaccine. 

They knew it would be incredibly hard and time consuming, but they were determined. Or at least Cas and Y/N were determined. Lately Dean had begun considering another possibility.

As he sat worrying and contemplating things, Emma surprised him out of his stupor, climbing into his lap and putting her little hand on his cheek. 

Dean worked up a small smile for her sake, but it obviously wasn’t enough because she spoke in a solemn voice.

“Are you sad?”

Dean shook his head and forced his smile wider. “No, of course not.”

“You look sad.”

Dean marveled at the little girl’s intuition (she was her mother's daughter) but he shook his head again. “N’ah, I’m fine, kiddo. Just thinking.”

“Bout what?”

“Nothing important, just some boring grownup things.” He tugged her braid and changed the subject. “How was school?”

Her eyes lit up and lost their look of worry. “It was good! Mommy read us a book about a dog. He was red and really huge!”

Dean chuckled. “Ah, yeah. Clifford.”

“Yeah!” Emma exclaimed excitedly. “Did you read that book before?”

He nodded. “Oh sure, there are a bunch of Clifford books. I used to read them all the time to…” He stumbled over his words for a moment, but cleared his throat and continued. “I used to read them to my little brother all the time when we were kids.”

As always, thoughts of Sam and who he used to be, sliced a deep cut into his heart, but he was used to how it bled so he could mostly ignore it. Emma’s bright blue eyes turned pleading.

“I want a dog like Clifford. Can we get one?”

Dean smiled. “Don’t think there’s too many dogs like Clifford out there. He’s pretty big and red.”

Emma shrugged. “K, just a normal dog then? Please?”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. Before he could say anything though, Emma was quick to explain herself. 

“He doesn’t have to live in the tent, he could just live in the camp. He could be our camp dog, like Lily is our camp cow.”

Dean sighed as Emma stared up at him, her little face imploring. “Pleeeease.” She repeated. He saw Y/N smirking out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

“We’ll have to see kiddo, okay?” He said with a kiss to the top of Emma's head. Her face fell a little but she shrugged. 

“M’kay.” She mumbled. 

Y/N stood up and reached for Emma’s hand to help her hop down off of Dean’s lap. “Okay, baby, go outside and run off some energy before supper.” She helped Emma into her jacket and the little girl bounded towards the exit. 

“Stay close to the tent.” Y/N called to her.

Emma gave a pout. “Can’t I go see Julianne and Keisha?”

“Fine, but no further.”

Emma took off quickly just in case Y/N changed her mind.

Y/N chuckled lightly and then walked over to where Dean sat. When she got there she lowered herself to her knees in front of him and laid her fingertips against his jaw. 

“Wanna talk about some of those boring grown up thoughts swirling around in your head and keeping you so distracted.”

Dean gave a half smile. “They’re pretty boring.”

“Try me.”

He shrugged and Y/N sighed. “Is this about the dream you had this morning?”

He shook his head. “Dreams. Every night. For weeks.”

Y/N’s brow crinkled. “Why didn’t you tell me about them sooner?”

“What’s to tell? They’re horrific and confusing.”

Dean felt his fear bubbling up in his chest, acidic and almost painful in its intensity. He couldn’t keep Y/N’s earnest gaze; he took the hand she held against his jaw and squeezed it between his own as he lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“What if we…me, you and Emma, what if we just left?”

Y/N’s voice was incredulous. “What are you talking about?”

He finally looked back at her and he knew his expression was probably desperate, but he couldn’t help it. He was desperate. 

“The camp would be fine with Cas in charge. And I’d get him to brand you and Emma and they wouldn’t be able to find us.”

“What are y-? Brand us?” Y/N asked, interrupting her own question.

Dean shook his head dismissively. “Just your ribs. It doesn’t hurt. I mean, not bad anyway. And it keeps them away, keeps them from tracking us.”

“Keeps who away?” Y/N asked, confusion clear on her face and in her voice.

“The angels.” Dean said low and quiet, feeling as though they might be listening in.

Y/N frowned. “Why would you want to hide from angels?”

Dean shook his head. “Look, Cas is an outlier, okay. Most angels are dicks, and some are downright sadistic.”

Y/N’s eyes were round now. “How…how can that be? Aren’t they…I mean I didn’t really go to Sunday School much as a kid, but aren’t angels supposed to be righteous? Aren’t they supposed to protect us?”

Dean scoffed. “In theory. But a lot of them can’t stand humans. And if they’re back now…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Okay but,” Y/N was obviously still confused, “even if that’s true, why would that make you want to run from the camp?”

He stared at her a long time, debating telling her everything, the danger they were all in if the angels found him, but in the end he just shook his head. Why should she have to carry around this same awful fear?

“No, it was just a stupid idea. I don’t like the angels, so I’m not anxious to see them again, but you’re right. Running is dumb.”

They’d find us somehow anyway. Dean thought to himself.

“Dean,” Y/N began, obviously not convinced by his dismissive answer. But before she could say more, he cut her off with a kiss. It might have started as a distraction, but that purpose immediately fell away as he delved his tongue into her mouth and devoured her. The soft sounds issuing from the back of her throat drove him crazy and suddenly it was as though he couldn’t get close enough.

He pulled away and they were both panting. Y/N’s smile turned mischievous and she dropped her hands from the open sides of his flannel to his belt buckle.

“Emma won't be back for a while. Think I’ve got time to put a smile on your face?” She said as she slid his belt open. But Dean put his hands on hers, halting her. 

“No, I wanna…” He trailed off and then stood up abruptly, grabbing Y/N’s wrist and pulling her along behind him. He could feel her confusion and he threw a wink over his shoulder as they left the tent. 

“Trust me.”

Y/N’s brow smoothed out and she grinned. “Okay.”

They left the tent and walked east, meeting Johnston along the way. Dean called out to him as they passed, but didn’t really slow down.

“Emma’s over at Monique's. Go tell her to stay there till we come pick her up.”

“Yes sir!” Johnston called back and he ran off to follow the order.

They walked briskly all the way to the garage. If anyone wondered about why the Boss was speeding across the camp with a dangling belt and Y/N in tow, no one stopped them to ask. Dean assumed they could figure it out. 

They reached Baby and Dean wrenched open the back door. Y/N’s face was beet red as she looked around surreptitiously and whispered in a scandalized voice.

“Dean it’s the middle of the day, there are people around.”

Dean shrugged. “So?” He paused a beat and then gave a sideways nod towards the door. “Get in.” He watched the fiery heat bloom in Y/N’s red-ringed eyes and his whole body hardened as it always did when he knew she was thinking lustful thoughts.

With a girlish giggle that made his heart happy and hurt in equal measure, Y/N climbed into the back seat. Dean followed her and closed the door behind him. The curtains were all still drawn, so he simply locked the doors before turning to Y/N and immediately capturing her lips again. He gently pushed her down on the leather seat beneath him. 

He spread kisses across her chest, and she sighed. “I’m gonna have to try and be quiet.” She whispered. 

Dean shook his head and spoke against her skin. “Don’t bother. You won't be.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow, someone’s sure of themselves.”

Dean slid his hand into the waistband of her leggings and pushed aside her panties to slide two fingers through her wet heat and rub them against her clit. Y/N gasped loudly and Dean arched a brow as he watched the pleasure ripple across her face.

“Do you doubt my abilities to make you scream?”

Y/N shook her head back and forth, letting out a keening moan as he pushed his fingers into her body, his jaw clenching at the way her cunt tightened around them. 

She reached for his waistband again, trying to open the button on his jeans, but Dean stopped her once again. 

“No, I just wanna touch you, just wanna watch you while I stroke you and pleasure you.” He found the spongy spot deep inside her, and swept across it teasingly. Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realized that she was indeed failing to be quiet. 

He pulled out of her body and raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking her essence from his fingertips. “You’re so fucking delicious, sweetheart.” He put his fingers to her lips, pushing them into her mouth and against her tongue to give her a taste before dragging them down over her chin and the long column of her neck as she arched her back.

He made quick work of stripping her so that she laid beneath him covered only in goosebumps. She reached up to pull off his shirts and he let her, so that she could pet her hands down his torso, and press her nails into his back as he dipped his head to suck on her pulse. He worked his way down her body, letting his tongue explore her, memorize her. 

He refused to try and dissect why he had such a thrumming need to burn every inch of her skin into his memory, to learn her sighs and moans like they were lyrics to his favorite song. 

In the back of his mind he knew why, but he shied away from the truth. He only wanted to feel her move beneath him, only wanted to taste her, only wanted to concentrate on the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she tried to hold in a moan and the way the sound burst out of her anyway when he speared her with his tongue.

He spent the next hour pulling her apart over and over until the sound of his name on her lips was a refrain he knew he’d never be able to forget.

***

A few more days passed and Dean did his best to avoid Y/N’s questioning glances. He didn’t want to talk about the fears that grew stronger inside him every day.

One night as he laid beside Y/N on the small cot, her arm around his waist and her face buried in his chest, he heard rustling outside the tent that sounded like footsteps. It was the middle of the night. There would be no reason for someone to be walking around their tent unless there was some kind of trouble.

He gently disentangled Y/N’s arms from around him and got up, grabbing his gun from just under the cot. As he was leaving he glanced at Emma to make sure she was sleeping peacefully, moving outside the tent when he could see that she was.

He couldn’t see anyone in the immediate area, so he moved stealthily through the tents. Finally he came out into the clear open area between the tents and the spring vegetable plots. He looked towards the big cabin, and couldn’t see anything amiss. Still, something felt off and he decided he’d go talk to the soldiers he had stationed at the southern post for the night.

But before he could move he heard a voice behind him that made his blood run cold.

“Dean! Long time no see!”

He turned slowly, his gun raised, to see the angel Zachariah standing barely six feet away. The angel’s smug round face was exactly the same, same watery gray eyes, same phony smile.

And then Dean realized why everything felt off and strange. He lowered his gun and dropped his arms back to his sides. 

“I’m dreaming.”

Zachariah continued to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were cold and calculating, just as they’d always been. “That’s right. Only way I could talk to you. We’ve been away so long.” 

He looked around the camp and his lip curled. “Can’t say I was very anxious to come back to this smelly, cold rock.”

“Well,” Dean said, his voice hard and quiet, “don’t let me keep you here.”

Zachariah waved at him. “Oh no, the uh boss man, Michael,” he thumbed towards the sky, “he said the time was right for us to strike, finally. At first I thought he was crazy. I mean, once Sam said the big yes and we lost him as a catalyst to make you say yes, I must admit, most of us just gave up. No apocalypse this go round.”

He shrugged. “Then Lucifer leveled the planet with his little virus and you all became very, very boring. And the prayers! Ugh, god! They were nonstop.” 

His voice took on a mocking whine. “‘Oh save us, heavenly hosts.’, ‘Help us god!’, ‘Save us from these monsters!’ It just went on and on!” He shuddered. “It was so loud all the time, so we just had to get away from the whining.”

Dean’s jaw was clenched so tight it was almost painful. He nodded and sneered. “Away from the helpless, dying people that you set up to be killed, you mean?”

Zachariah shrugged. “We tried to tell you that Michael had to be around to fight the adversary. But no, your stubborn independence was more important.”

Dean tried to keep his voice level. “What are you doing here now?”

The angel rolled his eyes. “You’re joking right? Come on Dean, your brother may have been the brains of your little operation, but surely you’re at least smart enough to figure this one out.”

Dean stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge the terror he could feel in the pit of his stomach.

Zachariah sighed deeply. “Come on Dean,” he encouraged, “I’ll help you out. So, if we left because you were so broken and useless when you found out your brother said yes, if we left because we knew we had nothing left to tempt you or force you to say yes…why do you think we’re back now?”

He paused as though he was a teacher waiting for a particularly dull student to answer an easy question.

Dean felt like he might throw up. “You think you can coerce me again now.”

Zachariah shot a finger gun at him. “Bingo! Except we don’t think we can, we know we can.” His voice became cold and lost its fake joviality. “You’ve got things to lose again.”

Dean felt like panic might be choking him and he desperately wanted to wake up and run. He shook his head at the angel superior. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zachariah rolled his eyes again. “Dean, don’t be ridiculous. We may have been away, but we’ve still been keeping an eye on you. We know all about your little camp of misfit toys, including your pretty, near-monster girlfriend and her pink-cheeked little brat. You care for them, all of them.” He nodded slowly. “We can work with that.”

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he felt the walls of his nightmares closing in. “You can’t find us. You don’t know where we are, and Cas and I put up as much angel warding as he could take. You won’t locate us.”

Zachariah shrugged. “But you know we will. It’s just a matter of time. Unless you want to save us all some time and just tell me right now?”

Dean’s eyes were blazing with hate as he just stared silently.

“No?” The angel sighed deeply. “Well in that case, I’ll just say, see you real soon.”

Dean came awake slowly, but panic set in quickly. 

He jumped out of bed, calling to Y/N. “Sweetheart, get up. Now!”

Y/N rubbed her hand across her eyes and sat up. “Dean. What’s going on?” She asked in extreme confusion.

But Dean didn’t answer her. Instead he was shaking Emma awake. “Get up, baby. Emma!” The little girl grumbled sleepily, but Dean forced her to sit up. “I’m sorry kiddo, but you need to put on really warm pants and a shirt. Dress warm, we might be outside for a while, okay? Your big boots and your scarf too.”

“Dean, stop.” Y/N was standing up now and moved over to grab his arm. “What is this? What?”

Before Dean could answer Cas walked into the still dark tent, bringing a lantern with him. Dean turned to him and Cas’ usually stoic, solemn face showed fear.

“They’re coming.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Zachariah came to me in a dream.” He gritted his teeth. “Piece of shit.” 

“What’s the plan?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded and answered as he was rushing around, pulling on a flannel over his t-shirt. He’d worn his jeans to bed, so he simply shrugged into his green jacket and started loading up his duffle bag. 

“So, we gotta go.” He told Cas. “You need to brand them, so they’re off angel radar too.” He said, rubbing a hand across his ribs. “I figure if we head out within the hour, we might be able to get a decent head start on them.”

Cas was shaking his head as Dean finished. “You can’t just leave the camp. Zachariah will torch the whole thing just to draw you back.”

Dean refused to admit the truth in Cas’ words. “No, that’s…look if I’m not around he’d have nothing to gain from burning the camp. It wouldn’t -”

Cas cut him off. “I told you, he’d burn it to bring you back, or just out of sheer spite and you know it.”

Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument when Y/N’s shout interrupted them.

“Enough. Stop talking right this instant and explain to me exactly what it is that you’re talking about, or I swear I’m going to lose my mind.”

Silence reigned for a few moments as Emma stared up at them all as though she was in the middle of a very vivid and kind of scary dream.

Dean stared into Y/N’s eyes for a moment before he decided she deserved to know the whole truth even if it was messy and painful. He’d just have to try and tell her quickly. 

He reached forward to squeeze her hand and then dropped it as he paced around the tent continuing to fill his duffle bag with supplies they’d need. 

“You remember me telling you about my brother Sam?” Y/N nodded, but Dean was just barreling on. “Well, I let it seem as though Sam died, but he didn’t, not really.”

Y/N was watching him roam around the room and he glanced at her quickly before continuing. “He’s uh, he’s Lucifer’s vessel. He’s…Lucifer took him over.”

Y/N’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. “Like…the devil? Are you telling me your brother is the devil?”

Dean shook his head and glanced at Emma, but she seemed to be half asleep as she watched them. “No, not really. Lucifer is just using his body, walking around in it. See angels don’t have form on earth, they’re just a bright white light. So, they have to possess a human, a vessel.”

Y/N looked over at Cas. “Wait, this isn’t what you really look like?” 

Cas shrugged. “Well, my vessel, Jimmy Novak, his soul is in heaven. His body was exploded into oblivion, by an archangel, which also should have destroyed me. But God brought me back, and fashioned me this vessel. But it’s only me in here now.”

Y/N stared at him, blinking slowly for a moment before tilting her head. “Um…what?”

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now.” Dean said dismissively before continuing with his rapid fire explanation.

“Unlike demons, an angel needs permission to enter a human body, they need the person’s consent. So, at some point, Sam said yes to the devil. I don’t know why. I wasn’t…I wasn’t around when he said yes.”

He looked back at Y/N and he could tell she was desperately trying to take in all he was saying; her voice was contemplative as she spoke. 

“Okay, that’s…I’m so sorry, Dean. That must have been horrible for you. But I’m still unclear about why we’re running away. You said the other day you wanted to hide from the angels? Why?”

Dean took in a deep breath, straightening up and finally dropping his duffle bag to the floor before crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Because I’m a vessel too.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide again. “For Lucifer?”

Dean shook his head and resumed his movements, no longer packing, just pacing. “No, for Michael, another archangel. The angels all believed Sam and I were destined to be their vessels on earth, allowing them to fight some epic battle that would bring on the apocalypse.” His voice was harsh with anger. 

“When we found out about these supposed destinies, we both swore we wouldn’t do it, that they couldn’t make us. But I…well, I abandoned Sam, so I have no idea what they did to make him say yes. I was hurt and angry, and I truly thought we’d do better apart. So, I left my little brother to deal with the devil by himself.”

He stopped pacing and turned away from Y/N completely. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Dean.” Y/N’s voice was soft but he turned back to her and waved away her sympathy.

“None of that is the point though. The point is that they could never get me to say yes, but they were desperate to. And now they’re coming back because…well according to the asshole angel who was just in my dream, I have -” he closed his eyes. “I have something to lose now.”

Y/N’s face was scared, but he could see she was fighting to keep her voice level. “Okay, can I ask, maybe…I mean, if you said yes, then wouldn’t that make you powerful, maybe you could try to fight the devil, maybe you could push him out of your brother. Or maybe, I mean if angels can heal, think of all the good you could do in this sick world with that kind of power.”

Dean was shaking his head. “No, Y/N you don’t understand. If I say yes and Michael takes over, I’ll be…I’ll be gone. I’ll have no power inside my own body. I won’t be able to make any decisions or do anything to change Michael's course. And his only course would be to end Lucifer and end my little brother in the process.”

“And,” Cas interjected, “Archangels rarely leave a vessel alive.”

Dean wished Cas had left out that little tidbit as Y/N’s face became more and more horrified. She took deep steadying breaths as Emma finally climbed out of her cot and walked over to Dean to wrap her arms around his forearm. 

“You’re going?” She asked in a sleepy voice. Dean shook his head but before he could answer her they heard a loud scream and Cas stiffened. 

“It’s too late. They’re here.”

Dean's stomach clenched so tightly it felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Within seconds they could smell smoke and hear the crackle of flames. Dean grabbed Emma up in his arms and ran out towards the noise. As they emerged from the tents they could see the big cabin burning in the distance, flames shooting high. 

Standing barely ten feet in front of them was Zachariah and four other angels.

As they stood staring at the angels, Johnston and Risa joined them, seeming to understand instinctively that this ominous, incongruous group of men in suits were a bigger problem than the fire.  

They all looked to where the campers were gathering and scrambling forward with buckets of water from the rain barrels that sat beside the school and storage shed. They quickly formed an assembly line and began moving the buckets back and forth to the cabin. 

But Dean could see they wouldn’t be able to save it. The best they could do was keep the fire from spreading to the surrounding trees. 

He looked at Zachariah with hatred dripping from his pores. “Stop this, right now, you son of a bitch.”

Zachariah pretended offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. A lightning bolt struck it. Just an unlikely act of God.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but when the angel’s gaze fell on Emma as she clung to Dean’s neck, he turned to Y/N who pulled her daughter away and then set her on the ground behind her. Instantly Johnston, Risa and Cas closed ranks in front of Y/N and Emma.

Zachariah just smiled. “Aw, that’s really adorable.” He looked back at Dean. “But you know the strength I wield. Do you really think your little wall of protectors is gonna stop me?”

Dean’s mind was reeling, terrified and racing for solutions to this utterly inescapable situation.

When he didn’t immediately answer, Zachariah’s face became thunderous. “We are NOT playing this game again, Dean Winchester!” He barked out before snapping his fingers.

Suddenly Johnston fell to his knees, clutching his throat as blood bubbled over his fingers. Y/N and Emma screamed in horror and Risa shouted out a denial as her friend and brother-in-arms fell at her feet. Cas turned, reaching out to touch the soldier to try and heal him, but two angels bolted forward to hold him back. 

Dean scrambled to Johnston’s side, across from where Risa knelt. The young soldier was deathly pale as Dean held his head in his hands.

“It’s okay, soldier. You hear me? Stay, stay with us now.” He ordered him, even though he knew he was asking for the impossible. Red blood stained the young soldier’s neck and his shirt as his life's blood spilled into the muddy, wet ground beneath him.

“Eric.” Dean called to him softly as he gripped his shoulder. “Eric.” The young man looked up at him and it was the first time he’d ever looked at Dean without fear or trepidation of some kind in his eyes. A soft smile graced his lips and Dean wished he knew what he was seeing as he closed his eyes and let his last breath rattle from his chest. Risa pressed her forehead to his, crying quietly.

Dean’s gaze was scorchingly hot as he stood back up and looked across at the uncaring monster in front of him.

Zachariah shrugged. “Just a little reminder of how quick I can make everything change.” Again he looked at Emma where she was crying in Y/N’s arms, and raised his arm to snap his fingers again.

“No!” Dean screamed out, leaping in front of Y/N and Emma as though he could possibly save them if that snap came. “Okay, yes! Yes!” He shouted.

His breathing was ragged and tears clogged his throat. “Yes. Please. Please don't hurt them.” He hated that he was begging, but he’d do whatever it took to keep Y/N and Emma breathing and safe.

Zachariah slowly lowered his hand, a smug smile on his sneering face. “Glad negotiations went better this time around. So, let’s call Micheal down shall we?”

Dean held up a hand. “Yes, but just…put out that fire.” He said pointing at the still blazing inferno. Some people seemed to realize that something was happening across the camp, but they were all quite occupied putting out the fire. Zachariah shrugged and nodded and the blaze was suddenly out, black smoke rising from the ruins of the big cabin.

Dean took a deep breath. “And let me…say goodbye to them.” 

Zachariah rolled his eyes but waved at him to hurry up. Dean turned to Cas, ignoring the asshole angels who were no longer holding him, but were still close behind. He called Risa over and she finally left her friend’s side to join them. He put a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“The camp’s gonna need you both to help get past all of this. I know you won’t let them down.” They nodded and Dean pulled them into a three way hug, before clapping a hand to Cas’ neck. “You take care of Emma and Y/N, you promise?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. I will.” The angel’s bright blue eyes were dull, but his voice was strong and Dean knew he meant it with his whole angelic being.

Finally he turned to Y/N and Emma and his heart lurched at their tear stained faces, both so alike. As he approached them, Emma ran out of Y/N’s arms and he dropped to a knee so he could wrap his arms around her as she launched herself at him.

Her hot tears soaked into his jacket as sobs shuddered through her small frame. “Don’t go.” She whispered brokenly. Dean squeezed her tighter before he pulled her back so he could look at her. He brushed back her always unruly curls from her forehead and kissed her there. 

“I gotta go, kiddo. I’m so sorry.”

Emma took big hiccuping breaths as she responded. “Because of the bad man?” She said looking across the clearing at Zachariah.

Dean forced her to look away from the sadistic angel. “Yeah, baby, because of the bad man. But I…” He brushed away her tears from her cheeks. “Need you to know that I’d stay if I could. If I could, I’d never walk away from you. I swear.”

Emma nodded and he prayed she would remember that and be reassured that another father hadn’t just walked away from her.

He tried to smile, but worried she saw through it. He pulled her close again, and spoke quietly. “I love you bigger than big.”

Emma sniffed and spoke into the front of his shirt. “And taller than tall?”

He pulled away and managed a real smile as he cupped her cheeks. “And taller than tall.”

He stood up and took Emma’s hand, ushering her over to Risa who picked her up and rubbed the little girl's back as she sobbed. 

He moved towards Y/N, and stared at her for a moment, completely incapable of saying goodbye.

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling fat and fast. She looked slightly shell-shocked by everything that had happened in barely an hour. Her voice was shaky and thick.

“I don’t know what to…” She shook her head again. “This can’t possibly be happening.”

Zachariah’s bored tone cut between them. “Oh, it’s happening. And it better happen faster if we don’t want any more acts of God to occur.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to pull Y/N into his embrace. He lowered his voice so only she could hear, murmuring the words against her temple. 

“Don’t think about this. Don’t think about what’s happening. Instead imagine we’re still just lying in bed. I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe. We can hear Emma talking in her sleep across the room. Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.” He pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “Visit me there from time to time, okay?”

Y/N was nodding, and her breathing was ragged. But she reached up and kissed him gently. “This isn't goodbye. It can't be. I won’t believe it. So, as far as I’m concerned, we’ll be back there, in that moment soon.”

Dean gave her a tilted smile. “I love you, you know? I should have said it so much sooner, cause it’s been true for a long time.”

Y/N closed her eyes as though she was in pain. Maybe she was, he was; it felt like a ton of bricks was crushing his chest.

But he concentrated on her bright, red-ringed eyes as she spoke. “I love you too. So much.” Y/N’s tight smile crumpled and she fell back into his arms sobbing.

As Dean crushed her against him one last time, he could hear Zachariah groan in frustration and then begin chanting words in Enochian. The atmosphere began to change around them as the earth rumbled. Dean felt himself being pulled out of Y/N’s arms as Zachariah’s patience ran out and he yanked him away. 

“Don’t look at the light!” Dean called to Y/N as a blinding white light enveloped them all. He heard a kind of whispering in his mind, it wasn’t exactly words, but he understood it. It was a question.

He looked back at Y/N and Emma and gave the only answer that would keep them safe.

“Yes.”

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