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dumdumsun · 4 years ago

Text

Of Starlight

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

Word Count: 2912

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Chapter 18: What Would Have Happened

It happened so quickly. One minute, Hazel had shown up to the mansion with the desire to help the family with the prevention of the apocalypse, then next minute, Five was watching Diego and Hazel fight before him for almost a full forty five seconds. Punches and kicks were thrown, blood was drawn, but Five decided to step in when Diego clamped his teeth down on Hazel’s ear. Setting his margarita down on the bar, Five blinked behind his brother with a glass vase before smashing it down on his head, the vigilante collapsing to the ground, unconscious. “I draw the line at biting.” He remarked as he made his way back over to the bar. He glanced over at Hazel, who was groaning and nursing his ear. “Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes ‘round.”

“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.”

“For what?” Five returned to his seat at the bar, picking up his drink.

“To help stop the apocalypse.” Hazel swiped glass off of his shoulder. The man earned a chuckle from the boy as he sipped on his drink. Hazel frowned. “What on earth could be so funny to you right now?”

“Before I answer that, why do you wanna help us?”

Hazel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in a doughnut shop.” Whatever that meant. Five smiled as he took his straw out of his mouth.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re a day late and a dollar short. The fact that you’re here right now means, without a shadow of a doubt, the apocalypse is over.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“The mark is dead. Found him this morning,” Five inhaled as he thought over (Y/N)’s words of suspicion. “You were the last known unknown left in the equation.”

Hazel let out an airy chuckle, slightly shaking his head. “Shit… Really?”

“Mmhm,” Five nodded and turned around in his seat. “And if you’re out, then Hellrider ain’t riding.”

Throwing his head back, Hazel inhaled deeply, raising his fists in the air. “Oh! Alright!” He grinned. Letting out a relieved laugh, he stepped away from Diego and joined Five at the bar. Picking up the blender, he gulped down what was left of the margarita, Five chuckling and turning his head forward. When Hazel emptied the blender, he set it back in place, exhaling in content. “So now what?”

“You know, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this thing for so long, I…,” He and Hazel turned to each other. “I never really thought about the day after… I don’t know. What about you?”

“I’m done with all of this madness,” Hazel shook his head. “Time to start over. You should do the same.”

“That’s easier said than done…”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this. If you never time traveled, you never got caught up with The Handler, what would have happened?”

Five glanced over his shoulder, at the unconscious Diego, before turning back to Hazel. “I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here,” He nodded, Hazel softly chuckling. “But after that… I guess I would have married the love of my life.”

Hazel raised his brows and leaned back a bit. “Really? I would’ve never guessed a cold-hearted killer would have a soft spot. Especially for a girl.”

“Yeah, well… neither did I. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now…”

“Well, there you go. Now you can grow up and get married,” Rising from his seat, Hazel nodded at the boy. “Good luck.” As he began to leave, Five glanced over at Delores. This was the time to make things right. The boy called out to Hazel as he turned toward him.

“One more thing before you go.”

“Shoot.”

“Which one of you was the triggerman for Detective Patch?”

“Triggerwoman.” Hazel blinked. Five sighed through his nose.

“Huh. That’s too bad… That gun could’ve cleared my brother’s name.”

Hazel inhaled as he reached into his pockets. “Well, today’s your lucky day, amigo,” He took out two guns and walked up to Five, setting them down on the bar. “Take ‘em both. I’m done with this life.”

Five gave him a ghost of a smile of gratitude as he watched him leave the parlor. And with that, another weight had been lifted from his child-like shoulders. Turning back to Delores, Five deeply sighed. “Now it’s… Now it’s figuring out what (Y/N) wants…”

“Diego?!” As if on cue, the girl’s voice rang throughout the room. He looked over his shoulder to see her crouching beside their brother, placing a hand on his head, (e/c) eyes full of concern.

“He’s fine.” Five spoke up. Her head snapped up to him.

“He is?”

“I just knocked him out. Did what I had to do.”

“Oh, well, then…” She stood with a shrug, moving to his side. Sitting down in the seat Hazel once occupied, she placed a hand on his back. “How’re you doing, bub?”

The nickname sent a rush of heat to Five’s face and ears. He hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. “Honestly, I’m a little lost, Starlight… I didn’t have a plan after this.”

“Well, then, what do you wanna do?” She held his free hand in hers, raising it to her lips. “Now that you’ve got loads of freetime.”

“I was hoping you’d help me with that,” He leaned closer, gently touching foreheads with her. “Now that I have no idea what the future holds for us… I just want to have one with you.”

“I’ve cried enough these past eight days, Five,” (Y/N) sniffled with a grin on her face. “Don’t make me do it again.” They both chuckled quietly, hands tightly clasped together. They knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, but they’d been so used to losing each other that every moment of peace felt like nothing but the calm before the horrible, horrible storm. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her love in a warm hug. Not even hesitating, he returned it, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You mean it? You want a future with me?”

“I mean it with every pubescent bone in my body.”

“Ew…” She laughed, the sound alone tugging at his heart. He then felt the warmth of her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. He swore his heart exploded right then and there. When she pulled away, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate a single sentence in his mind. It hadn’t even been a real kiss and yet it had rendered him speechless, nonetheless. She smirked in amusement at his current state. “Five, you’re staring.”

“I’m well aware.” He breathed. She giggled and circled around him to leave the room, their eyes never breaking contact as their fingers lingered against each other. When they had finally let go, both their hands twitched, itching for that contact again. (Y/N) placed her fingers against her lips as she turned away and left the parlor to head upstairs. She had planned to go check on her children again. It had felt like months since she’d last seen them. Now that the end of all life on earth had been stopped, she knew she had to make things right and explain everything to them. No matter how crazy she sounded. She owed them that much.

She passed by Allison’s room, but stopped when she saw movement from the small crack in the door. Slowly opening the door wider, she gasped at the sight of Allison, now in different clothing, walking around her room. The woman turned towards the door, a tearful smile stretching across her face. “You’re awake…” The girl teared up as the two ran to each other, engulfing one another in a hug. Allison sniffled and kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Oh, god, you’re okay, Ally, you’re okay…” She repeated, more to herself than to Allison. When they pulled away, they sat themselves on the bed. The Rumor reached over to her notepad and began to write something down. (Y/N) leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for her sister with a small smile on her face. The smile faltered when Allison turned the notepad to her.

VANYA KNOWS

“She knows?” (Y/N) frowned. “She knows what?” Her gaze followed Allison’s writing.

WHAT WE DID

“Allison, I’m not understanding.” She shook her head. Allison sighed in frustration and hastily scribbled down her response.

THE RUMOR

“The rumor? Like… when we were little?” She asked, Allison nodding. “Is that why she did this? She found out about… but I don’t understand. What did the…”

“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”

“Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what.”

Her face formed into horrified shock. “So, Vanya has powers,” The nod of confirmation from Allison had the girl running her hands down her face. “Jesus Christ… and we were both in on it…” The two sat in silence. Both in fear. Both in shame. Shameful of the pain they’d caused their sister, of blindly following through with their father’s plans without a single word of protest. (Y/N) turned her attention to the sound of the marker against the paper.

ITS MY FAU-

“No,” (Y/N) held Allison’s wrist, forcing her to halt her writing. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We were both there… I take this blame with you. Okay, Ally? You don’t have to make yourself feel like shit all the time,” The scoff she got from Allison made (Y/N) frown. “Allison, tell me one good thing you think you’ve done.” Silence followed. Allison stared down at her knees for what seemed like forever before shaking her head with a shrug.

“Well, I’ve got a list. Let’s see… You promote my work in your interviews… You gave birth to my favorite niece,” The woman silently giggled at that. “You were my maid of honor… You stay so fucking strong despite the shit thrown at you constantly,” She reached over and held her sister’s hand. “You’re learning, Ally. We all are. No one said we had to be perfect… We do shitty things and then we learn from them. Yes, part of the process is feeling like shit, but it isn’t the end. I just want you to know… you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. If you ever feel like a piece-of-shit-sister… know that I think otherwise. Vanya doesn’t hate you… I’m sure after we properly apologize, she’ll understand, right? She just found out that everything she was ever told was a lie… and the source of it. She’s learning, too. We just need to be patient with her. No one really ever was…”

Allison smiled down at her notepad and scribbled something down before holding it up.

PRETTY SMART FOR A KID

“Piss off, Allison.” (Y/N) laughed.

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After leaving Allison to her own devices, (Y/N) slipped into her bedroom and swiped her car keys off her bedside table. She whistled a tune and spun the keys on her finger as she walked towards the stairs. Hearing rustling, she halted when she saw Five in his own room. She walked inside and gently knocked on the door. He looked up from the duffle bag he had just unzipped and smiled tightly. “Hey, Starlight.”

“Hey, bub,” She watched him with a raised brow. “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, well… I figured if I’m going to move on and live as much of a normal life as I can… I’ve gotta let go of the past.” He motioned towards Delores, who sat in her usual chair. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Seriously? Five, you’re returning Delores?”

“It won’t be easy, I admit,” He grunted. “But I… I have to do this.”

“Make things right,” She nodded, Five staring at her in slight confusion. “You could say I’m on my own journey with that…”

“We all might as well be,” He slowly picked up Delores, his green eyes holding so much care and fondness for the mannequin. He hesitated as he so very gently placed her in the duffle bag. Sighing, he turned his head to (Y/N). “Would you like to say any last words to her, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” The girl cleared her throat and slowly walked to Five’s side. He stepped back a little to give her space. Her eyes darted around the room. From Five, to his posters, to the window, before finally landing on Delores. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Delores… um, well, we didn’t talk all that much, but… I think if Five likes you so much, you must be pretty great. I, uh… actually wanna thank you… for taking care of him. He went through hell and my worst fear was that he’d do it alone… but you came in and did what I couldn’t. And I’ll be eternally grateful for that. I wish you luck in life, Delores.” Standing up straight, she turned to Five, who nodded in satisfaction.

“Beautifully said. Now,” He walked closer and zipped up the duffle bag. “I’ll only be a little while.”

“Oh, wait,” (Y/N) gently pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. “I can drive you there.”

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(Y/N)’s car parked in front of the department store Five had directed her to. Very slowly, the boy removed his seatbelt and turned to the backseat, where the duffle bag sat. He let out a breath and slowly reached back for it. “I don’t know, Starlight… If I can…”

“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want, Five… But if you truly want to move on and have… that future… This is kinda necessary. I know you can do this, bub. You have more than just Delores now. You’ve got our siblings, you’ve got me.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Five hummed and grabbed hold of the duffle bag, dragging it into his lap. His finger gently ran over the fabric as he shut his eyes.

“I know…”

Seeing the somber look in his eyes once they opened, she tilted her head and smiled. “Make sure they get her a new outfit. She’d look beautiful in red.”

Five chuckled and shook his head, opening his door to leave. “I’ll be back.” He whispered.

“And I’ll be right here.” She smiled. He returned the expression before getting out and closing the door, swinging the bag onto his back as he strode inside the store. (Y/N) leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, a distant vision she’d had years ago resurfacing her memories.

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The clone stood a few feet away from Five, who sat on the hood of an abandoned car with Delores by his side. The boy sighed and stared up at the star-painted sky. He threw his arm around the mannequin’s “shoulder” and leaned into her. “These stars remind me of (Y/N)... Who is she? Oh, just… a girl…” The clone stalked closer to the car in silence. “What? No, Delores, she’s… Well, she’s dead now. I just called her Starlight because… that’s what she was to me. In an endless sea of darkness, she shone in all her glory. She didn’t make the darkness go away, but she sure made it more bearable to live with… Yeah,” He bitterly chuckled. “Yeah, I was in love with her… But it doesn’t matter. She’s… She’s gone now,” He turned his head to face Delores, his eyes softening. “But at least I have you…”

The clone’s foot came into contact with a nearby scrap of metal, the screeching of it sliding against the ground alerting Five. He jumped up and turned to the clone in anger. “Go away!” He tried waving it off. When it didn’t respond, he hopped off the car and stormed up to it. “I said go away! All you ever do is stand there and look like her! You don’t talk like her or smile like her o-or laugh like her! You just sit there and take up space! Just get the hell away from me!” He shouted, not daring to get any closer, for he knew he’d only get shoved back. The clone only squinted its eyes at Five, the boy sighing in exasperation and stomping back to the car. It watched as he sat atop the hood, burying his face into his hands.

“What the hell am I gonna do with it, Delores…?”

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The girl snapped her eyes open when she heard the car door opening. Turning to her right, she was greeted with the sight of Five. Alone. As he climbed into his seat and shut the door, she grinned brightly at him. She reached her hand over and placed it over his. “I’m so proud of you…” She whispered. The boy only nodded, eyes trained on his knees. (Y/N) tilted her head and hummed in a soothing manner. She considered her next decision for about a solid two minutes before starting the car up again.

“Do you want to meet Michael and Jada?”

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layniapetrovnaaa · 4 years ago

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DOFP Logan X Reader Smut

Summary: Logan travels back to the past and sees you, the reunion was not what he was expecting considering your history; but when you fail to stop Raven, you find yourself scared for the future and you feel the need for his love again.

Warnings: Smut, choking kink, swearing, mentions of drug use (just weed), mentions of alcoholism. The beginning is kinda shit, but I think I did good with the smut lmao.

"Laurie was a young lover, but he was in earnest, and meant to 'have it out', if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choky now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady...

"I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, couldn't help it, you've been so good to me. I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me. Now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer."

"I wanted to save you this. I thought you'd understand..." began Jo, finding it a great deal harder than she expected."—the book slammed shut.

The noise wracking the school made it hard for you to focus on your book–one that you were thoroughly enjoying–so you got up an went to go investigate.

As you exited your room and walked into the hallway, you met Charles.

"What the hell is that noise?" you asked him, agitation lacing your voice.

"I have no clue." he sighs and the two of you trudge down the stairs.

You couldn't help but snort at the sight in front of you. Hank hung from the chandelier, while his victim lay on the table below him.

"Get off the bloody chandelier Hank." the professor, who stood beside you at the top of the staircase, spoke.

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing.

Hank jumped down and as you walked down the stairs you recognized the man.

"[Y/N]?" Logan spoke, surprised to see you again.

"What? You know him?" Hank asks, slightly out of breath.

You ignore both of them and continue to walk toward Logan until you are standing in front of him.

SMACK!

"What the hell was that for?!" he groans, bringing his hand up to is cheek, replacing where your had just briefly been. You laugh bitterly.

"What do you mean 'What the hell was that for?' You left me!" your tone was raised and angered but not quite yelling.

Charles and Hank stood there awkwardly, while Logan stood there bewildered.

"I left you?" he asks, is tone completely serious as his hand slips from his cheek.

Your laugh was sarcastic, as was your response.

"What'd you just lose your memories all of a sudden?"

Logan flinched at your words, but didn't answer.

All you could do was shake your head and grumble to yourself as you walked back up to your room, not even inquiring what he was there for.

Truth be told he didn't remember leaving you. After what happen with Stryker and losing his memories, the professor helped him to get some back, but he could only remember bits and pieces of really important events or people, and you were one of them. But he still couldn't remember much, only parts of your time together, the best parts.

***

Hank sat at the edge of the bed, you were laying on your side, your back facing him as you fiddled with the loose strands of the blanket you laid atop of.

"We talked to Logan." he states blankly, and you don't respond.

"He needs our help [Y/N]."

You scoff at that.

"Oh please.” You murmur. "What does the oh-so-great Wolverine need our help with?"

"[Y/N]" he sighs "what I'm about to say may be hard to believe, but your just going to have to trust us." he pauses, then continues "Logan was sent from the future, he needs our help to stop Raven."

At this you roll onto your back and burst into laughter. Wiping a stray tear from your right eye as your laughter starts to calm down.

"Well, I was not expecting that." you state, sitting up and slapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for cheering me up Hank." You smile before getting up off the bed and going over to your dresser to find a joint. As you are rummaging through your drawer he speaks again.

"I'm-I'm serious [Y/N]. Even the professor believes him."

You slam the drawer shut and start to search through your jewelry box that sat on top of the dresser.

"Well the professor is also an alcoholic." you state rather harshly.

"Please [Y/N], we need all the help we can get."

You let out an agitated sigh and turn around to face him.

"Fine." you point a finger at him "But if I find out that this is just some silly ass shit, I'll beat your ass.

"Yes ma'am." he smiles, his tone playful yet serious.

***

After coming back from Paris that night and watching the news saying that they had already gotten Ravens blood sample, you couldn't help but feel completely defeated. You were sure everyone else felt the same way as well.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, that when you stopped at the door in front of you, you only then realized it was not yours, it was Logan's. The door was cracked open just enough for you to peak into his room and see him smoking a cigar on his bed. After staring at the door for a few moments you decided to knock, then enter the room. He turns his head to face the door as he blows out a puff of smoke. You close the door behind you softly and he raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up." you scoff, and he cant help but chuckle as he turns his head back to face the wall in front of him and take another puff.

"I always loved the smell of those." you said softly as you walked over to the bed and sat down.

"I know." he hums as he removes his hand from from under his head to sit up against the headboard.

Your hand slides back and forth over the sheets as you stare into his eyes intently.

"Logan?..." you whisper

He puts the cigar out in the tray that rests on his bedside table. He moves to sit next to you and puts his hand atop of yours, which had stopped moving as soon as you felt his touch. The face he gives you is so sincere, almost as if he was trying to say: tell me anything and everything.

"In the future do I-" you lean into him closer.

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself kid." he says softly, but firm.

You eye his lips, and then they are crushing your own.

The kiss is passionate, so passionate, and warm. You had kissed Logan many times before, but none felt like this as he grabbed your waist, pulling you to him as close as he could given the position you were in. Your hands fly up to grip his face and push his lips harder onto yours. He balances himself on his left hand which rests behind you on the bed. Deep breathes and the smacking of lips can be heard as your mouths dance together in a sensual and loving way.

He pulls back and your foreheads rest against each other, your noses nuzzling gently.

"I'm sorry for leaving." he whispers and you can feel his breath on your lips. You pull back slightly to look into his eyes.

"I forgive you." you just couldn't stay mad at him.

The green in his hazel orbs shines bright and you wonder how you were able to live without him for so many years.

"Make love to me." you let out in a breathy whisper.

All he does in response is kiss you hard and lay you on the bed gently.

His hands travel all over your clothed body, stopping to squeeze and caress certain areas.

As his lips kiss your neck you are reminded of the first night you two had been physically intimate. It was 1953, you had gone to see the movie "Roman Holiday", it was cute. You especially liked Gregory Peck, and even though he still wouldn’t admit it, Logan was a little jealous. And so you two kinda just ended up just making-out the whole time. That's when he took you home and professed his love to you physically, and promised he would love you forever.

He sits back and pulls the dingy white tank top he was wearing off. You bit your lip as you took in the sight in front of you—Jesus—its like he was hand crafted by god himself. He leans back down over you, and fits himself nicely between your legs. Grabbing your wrists to raise them above your head as you continue to make-out.

God, could this feeling just last forever? The weight of him on top of you, consumed by his musk, and the way his lips made you feel as if you were as high as a bird, as if gravity didn't exist.

You two sat up and you took your shirt off, having not worn a bra, you were completely exposed to him as he took off his belt and unbuttoned his pants.

"Jesus Christ" he breathes, both his hands being immediately drawn to your breasts, he starts to fondle them and you cant help but giggle slightly at the enamored look in his face before he sits back and you straddle his lap.

His hands caress your waist, up to your back, then down to your hips a couple of times as you starts to embrace his neck with your lips. Your hips start to move back and forth slowly, the friction almost killing you as you both let out soft moans and he grips your hips tightly.

“F-fuck” he stutters as you continue the sinful swishing of your hips. You pant softly at the feeling of your sweet spot getting some stimulation.

Logan grabs you and rolls you two over before getting up and taking his pants and underwear off, you do the same. He sits back on his knees in between your legs, admiring the sight in front of him.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” His thumb rubs up and down your thigh slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, captivated by the looks on his face, his eyes never leaving your core as he hums in satisfaction.

He leans back over you kissing your chest and flicking his tongue over your nipples. His hand slowly travels down and he starts rubbing your clit slowly.

“Aghh Logan” you moan, his middle finger dipping down to trace your hole, feeling the natural lubricant that excreted from it.

Slowly he starts to enter you with his longest finger, starting to move it inside of you. Feeling the influx of wetness he adds his ring finger.

Sighing and moaning softly into his mouth as you kissed. He always seemed to know exactly what to do to make you feel so good.

Once satisfied with how wet you had become he removes his fingers and you suck them into your mouth, remembering how that would always set him off.

His mouth hangs open as you look him in the eyes while your tongue flicks over his fingers.

Slowly he pulls them out and they release with a small wet popping noise.

“You always know how to make me fuckin’ crazy.” he groans.

His hands slide from your collarbones to your breasts, groping, jiggling, and smushing them together.

“I would die for these tits.” You laugh lightly at his statement before you bite your lip and reach out to grab his cock.

“I wanna taste you.” You hum, slowly stroking his member, maintaining eye contact as you knew that was something he loved.

“Another time baby, right now I wanna be in this tight and wet little pussy.” You release him, and sit back on your elbows.

Sighing erotically at his words you spread your legs further and he lines himself up at your entrance. He starts to slide in slowly, only going about halfway at first due to his size.

“You good baby?”

“Mhmm”

He starts to enter you fully, groaning as he does.

“Jesus fuckin Christ” he breaths, and you moan slightly, throbbing around him. You had to admit it was a bit uncomfortable due to his girth, length, and your size. But, it still felt really good having him inside of you.

He stilled for a moment after he had entered you to the hilt, feeling like it would kill him (in the best of ways) if he started to move.

Yet, he prevailed and started to set a relatively fast pace, one that made your breasts jump withe every thrust, and felt like goddamn heaven.

One of his hands took a hold of your wrist, lifting it above your head, his elbow digging into the mattress. His other hand flew to your throat and you let out and obnoxiously loud moan. Your free hand reaching down to stimulate your clitoris.

His breathing was heavy as his hips continued to buck into yours. Groaning and growling as well.

His pace slowed down for a moment and he gave you several deep, hard, and fast thrust, ones that made you grab his wrist (the one connected to the hand that was wrapped around your neck) as you squirm, moan obscenely, and dig your toes into the mattress sharply.

He starts to thrust into you faster again and he releases your neck and wrist. Running your hand down his toned abdomen, you feel the muscles tense lightly at each swish of his hips. Your arms wrap around to his back, your fingertips digging into the hard flexing muscles. Your mouth hanging open, moans escaping it every second, staring into his eyes as he fucked you.

He looks down and watches where the two of you connect and you squeeze him slightly, feeling his hips stutter when you do.

“Ohh shit baby, do that again.” You comply and he groans.

Its not long before you hear that saying you love so much.

“I’m gunna cum.” he moans out and you throb at his words.

“Oouu fuck” you moan as his pace picks up ever so slightly, running your hands up to his neck, pulling him down to kiss you.

You two separate and you can tell hes at his tipping point as he lets out a shaky breath.

A string of slightly high pitched, but throaty and guttural groans fall from his mouth and echo in the crook of your neck. Fuck, if that wasn't one of the most amazing noises you had ever heard...you didn't know what was.

He stills as deep inside you as he can get while his high takes over. You moan at the noises he makes and the feeling of his load inside of you, just being completely stuffed full of him, and you squeeze him as he orgasms.

Once he starts to come back to reality he kisses you in a dirty and sloppy manor, and pulls out of you. Your cunt clenching around nothing at the loss.

He runs his hands down your torso before kissing your left rib, then putting his face right between your legs.

He takes a deep breath in and hums, savoring the delicious smell of your sweet wet cunt. You squirm and shutter in anticipation, remembering that this was one of Logan's favorite activities to do while you were together.

He caresses your thighs a few times before finally giving you what you had been longing for so long.

His tongue circled your hole, dipping in a few times before flicking your clit.

He knew all of the tricks to make you absolutely melt.

He continued pleasuring you-- like no one else ever had before-- with his very skilled tongue.

“Auhh” you moan harshly as he inserts a finger into your sensitive core.

He never lets up, not even for a second.

You never wanted the moment to end as you felt that feeling in your stomach build faster than you anticipated.

“Oh fuck I’m close” you moan out, hips bucking up and down uncontrollably.

“That’s it baby.” he growls, and holds your hips down so he can keep his mouth on that divine pussy.

Finally releasing all of the wonderfully built up tension, you orgasm, and you orgasm hard.

Everything goes white as you stay in your high for a solid 15 seconds. Your toes dug into the bed sharply as your back arched and you pulled on Logan’s hair.

You become sensible again, and watch as he slides his finger out of you, licking it clean before doing the same to your overworked cunt. Flinching slightly as his tongue makes contact again.

He gets up, and your immediate reaction is to tell him to stay.

“You do realize this is my room, right?”

You bite your lip and giggle slightly as he climbs into the bed and under the sheets.

You snuggle into his hairy chest and let out a content sigh.

Little did you know only a short while later he would be leaving just as before, never to see him again, until about 30 years later...

#hugh jackman #wolverine imagine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #smut #dofp #xmen dofp #xmen days of future past

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havin-a-wee · 4 years ago

Text

Stars Align

pairing: harry styles x y/n

warnings: fluff, ig you could consider it angst but its really just mysterious

word count: 2k

hello! i apologize for kind of disappearing, my fic rec account has kind of blown up and ive been super busy with that.

this is my entry for @sweetlygolden 's Harry On Holiday Challenge! i chose strangers in the same city, and the line prompt “That is the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen.” i honestly already have a part 2 planned out but we'll see how it goes!

“How much longer are you going to stare at that pretending like it’s interesting.”

Her soft voice surprised him, and he whipped his head around to see who had been speaking to him.

For the first time in a while, Harry was able to get away for a little. Of course, he travels a lot for work, but this was the first vacation since he can remember where he was alone, doing whatever he pleases. He chose Italy for this special occasion, because it’s always been one of his favorite places, and he missed the freedom of wandering around the boot shaped country without a care in the world.

The day's adventures had brought him to La Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna e Contemporanea, which is a museum that he's been wanting to see for quite some time. He started the day off by getting a cappuccino and a crespelle from a wonderful little cafe down the street from his hotel.

Right afterwards he walked to the museum, taking in the sights around him on the 20 minute trek to his destination. Before the woman behind him snatched his attention, he was staring at a painting of an abstract house. The house was only painted in blue, and the artist had used the different shades and tones of the color to create the details in the painting.

He had been staring at it for a good amount of time, which he assumed is what prompted the stranger to talk to him.

It’s his 3rd day on the trip, leaving him 4 more until he has to be back in L.A. for work. He has no plans, no schedules, no job to do. It’s just him and the world. At least, that’s what he assumed it would be. The vacation is supposed to be a solo one, however, he’s currently staring at a stranger that decided to speak to him. And for some reason, he is drawn to her. Compelled to spend time with her after just a simple sentence was spoken between the two of them.

When he fully turns around she jumped, a bit startled by his bright red complexion. “That is the worst sunburn I have ever seen!”

It was true, Harry had managed to get himself a nasty burn on the first day in Italy. He usually tans instead of getting a sunburn, but when you’re used to the dreary weather of the UK, it can be hard to forget how strong the sun is in other places.

So he had laid out on the beach and fell asleep, waking up a few hours later with tomato red skin and a burning sensation covering the exposed skin.

“That’s what happens when y’fall asleep on a beach in Rome,” he chuckled, smiling awkwardly at the woman before him.

She’s beautiful, there is absolutely no denying that. She was wearing a simple spaghetti-strap black dress that cut off right at the knee. There were no designs, no embellishments, just a black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her lips have a deep red lipstick smeared across them, and he couldn’t help but notice how the color complimented her skin tone. Her simple black pumps completed the outfit, and her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, with a few of the front strands falling out of the hair tie and framing her face.

“I’d assume so.” Her demeanor is serious, even though there's a smile on her face. She’s…..intimidating?

Harry hasn’t been intimidated by anything since he was a teenager. Once you perform in front of thousands of screaming people, who also happen to idolize you, things don’t tend to phase a person anymore.

But for some reason, her presence caused butterflies to fly around in his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. He actually enjoyed the feeling, it reminded him of when everything was normal.

What also reminded him of normality was the fact that she seems to not have the slightest clue of who he is. If she does, she’s sure as hell good at hiding it.

“You’ve been looking at the same painting for 10 minutes, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” A small laugh escaped her lips, and the noise agitated the fluttering butterflies residing in his tummy. Her voice is mesmerizing, and she sounds like what Harry imagines an angel to sound like. She has an American accent, and it eased his nerves slightly that she was also a tourist.

He turned back to the painting to look at it, but it was also convenient in that she wouldn’t be able to see his undoubtedly flushed cheeks.

“Yeah m’not sure what it is ‘bout it but there’s somethin’ special with this one.”

“That’s Prismi lunari by Fortunato Depero, he was very talented.” Harry spun around once again to face her, shocked at her knowledge of the random artwork.

“You know that off of the top of your head?” He tilts his head and looks at her, furrowing his brows in confusion. He’s pretty sure there was no label for the painting, and if there was it was way too small for her to see from where she’s standing.

“I know a lot of things.”

The statement was simple, but Harry wondered if her words paired with the smirk on her face are code for something else. “How long have you been here?” Her question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at her and smiled. He flicks his wrist and directs his attention to it, reading the Gucci watch adorning his wrist.

“Well I got here at 11, so about 5 hours.” It honestly surprised him when he realized it was 4 o’clock, but he knows how wrapped up he gets in artwork so he must have lost track of time.

“Jesus christ! I can barely stand to walk around a museum for an hour!” She blows out a puff of air, mocking being out of breath. They both laugh at her comment, Harry laughing a bit harder than her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! M’Harry, s’nice to meet you.” He stuck out his ring-clad hand, and her delicate fingers wrapped around his as she shook it.

“Well Harry, wanna get out of here and walk around with someone who knows the city?” She points at herself, and the small smile she gave him earlier transformed into a silly grin.

“Well m’not sure how well an American can know the city, but I’ll bite.” Usually he would never do this. Going off with strangers is never a good idea, especially because of his status. But there’s something about the girl that makes Harry feel safe. They had just met yet he feels like he could trust her with things he hasn’t even told his best friends.

“An American who’s been living here for a year, that is.” His eyebrows raise slightly, intrigued by her new admission. But before he can even open his mouth to speak, she grabs his wrist with her daintily manicured hand and whisks him out of the quiet museum.

The air was humid, quickly drawing beads of sweat from his forehead. He’s also quite baffled at how she was completely unphased. Not a single drop of sweat was dripping on her body, her soft skin untouched like an old porcelain doll, preserved for years in perfect condition.

“I’ll show you around a little, we can go to this wonderful little vintage store I know.” She had turned to face him, her hand moving from his wrist to cup his one hand in both of hers. “Um- at least, if you want to.” For the first time, she was nervous. Although she will never admit it, Harry makes her extremely nervous. Extremely.

When he turned around when they first met, her jump of surprise wasn’t just because of his bright sunburn. In fact, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about how fucking attractive he is. He really looks like one of the statues that was put up in the museum. His sparkling green eyes send a shiver down her spine, and the tattoos peaking through his thin white t-shirt cause a fire to build in her stomach.

Having someone to talk too while he traversed the streets of Rome is a lot more enjoyable than Harry had anticipated. He purposefully told all of his friends that he was going to be MIA while on this trip. But the fact that she is a stranger changes it in some way, in a good way.

The cobblestone streets are surprisingly smooth, and they walk next to each other in a comfortable silence for a long amount of time. The silence would only break when she would point out something in their field of vision. At one point, Harry pauses, standing still in the middle of the street with a thinking look on his face. He realizes that he doesn’t know her name, which seems ridiculous to him because they were walking around a foreign country like the best of friends. She turns to him, matching his confused look when they lock eyes. “I just realized I don’t know y’name.”

Instead of reacting like he would expect one to react when asked that question, her pupils dilated and for some reason she appears to be scared. Why would someone be scared when you ask for their name?

‘Maybe she thinks her name is embarrassing’ Harry thought, still looking at her with a confused look, but now it was laced with a bit of suspicion.

He watches her sigh, and her hand went up to her ponytail and pulled the black elastic out, her soft hair cascading down her shoulders. With another sigh she said, “Y/N. My names Y/N.”

“That’s a really beautiful name.”

“Oh! There’s the store!”

He found it odd that she was so eager to switch the subject, but goes along with it nonetheless.

The vintage store is lovely, and Harry was able to find a beautiful ring and necklace set, matching gold roses on both of them. They looked around the shop for about 15 minutes, Harry being the only one to make a purchase.

The sun had set by the time they went outside, which isn’t surprising considering that it was almost dark when they walked into the little shop. They stood, facing each other outside of this small little shop in Rome. Two strangers, who just happened to cross each other's path. Harry knows this won’t last forever, and he also knows that he wants to see her again. In a leap of faith, he pulls the gold necklace out of the small brown bag and looks up at her.

“Here, I got them so we could match.” It was bold, but Harry feels connected to this girl, and he doesn’t know it, but she feels the exact same. The smile she gave him when he handed her the necklace was bright and genuine, the creases next to her eyes proving its authenticity. He motioned for her to turn around, wrapping the necklace around her neck and clasping it while she held up her hair.

“Thank you Harry. This is the best day I’ve had in a while.”

“Likewise.”

“I hate to do this, but I have to go. Have a wonderful rest of your trip Harry.”

It was then that she placed a small, tender peck on his lips, barely lingering for a second before pulling away.

“Wait! Can I get y’number?” Her smile slanted into a smirk, and she pulled a small card and a pen out of her small black clutch. She placed the card up against the brick wall, leaning it against it and scribbling something down on the paper. When she finished writing, she pressed her lips against the card, handing it to Harry.

He looked down at it, expecting to see a series of numbers, but he was met with a simple note, scribbled on the piece of cardstock next to the red lip print she had left.

May the stars align in our favor once again. - Y/N

He looked up frantically, planning to ask her to write her number down as well, but he was met with nothing.

She had disappeared into the night, leaving as quickly as she appeared earlier that day.

#HarryOnHoliday #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

Out of Context

Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)

Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration

Words: 6,145

A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!

Blurb Advent: Day 10

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.

Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.

They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.

Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.

The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”

“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.

It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.

It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn��t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.

You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”

Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.

As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.

It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”

#my writing #my fics #queen fanfic #queen smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #brian may x reader #brian may smut #john deacon x reader #john deacon smut

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tuanhood · 4 years ago

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hypnotic | part one

paring: vampire!im jaebeom x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut (part two), vampire au

warnings: language, cringey vampire cliches i’m sure

word count: 9,800+

summary: jaebeom has been waiting 200 years to find his mate - the one who can break his trance and isn’t affected by his hypnotic abilities. You don’t seem to be that person, but he just can’t seem to get you out of his mind… why?

a/n: hello guys! so i originally had this planned to post tomorrow (the 30th) but it was so long i decided to split it up and post one part today and the other part on the 31st! This first part is mostly Jaebeom and not a lot of Y/N but SO BE IT. This is also my first time writing in the genre of vampire/fantasy loL so please forgive me because it’ll probably be cringe and not make sense. if that’s the case lol drop me a message!! also vampire jaebeom was requested FOREVER ago. so here it is practically 3 decades later. and i attempted to make a banner. if someone can make me a better one it’s v much WELCOME.

part two

Knock Knock Knock

He wished he could just pretend like he was asleep. He wished he could use that as an excuse to not answer the door, but based on the very strong feeling he was getting from who was behind it – that wouldn’t work.

“I know you’re in there! Just answer the damn door Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes, leave it to Bambam to be at his front door before the day even had a chance to truly begin. Before letting him in, he went through all the possible things or excuses he could use to get out of whatever his younger friend had in mind.

“Is your vintage YSL here or is it still at the dry cleaners?” Bambam asked, pushing past Jaebeom as soon as he has the door partway open.

Gruffly, Jaebeom turned back into his apartment to Bambam already halfway to his bedroom – no doubt to look through his closet, “What are you doing here Bam?”

“What does it look like? I’m here for the vintage YSL asshole!”

He’s learned by now that it’s better to let him do his thing – whatever that may mean. So instead of following Bambam, he plopped down onto the same couch he’s had for nearly 15 years. “You know when I first bought that shirt it wasn’t considered vintage!”

Jaebeom waited for a response, but instead, he was met with silence. After a few moments – many of them thinking about how maybe it was time to replace the couch – he felt his “vintage” YSL button-down hit him in the face.

He groaned; the impact was surely going to create wrinkles in the material he tried to keep in pristine condition. It was ironic since he was often heard making fun of how much Bambam cared about clothes, but Jaebeom liked to keep his things nice. “Bam I just got it back from getting cleaned a couple of days ago.”

“Put it on.”

The tone of his friend’s voice seemed rather impatient. If he had closed his eyes, Jaebeom would have thought he was talking to Jinyoung or even himself.

“Why do I need to put it on? It’s 8 in the morning; where are we going?”

“Um excuse me? Did you forget what day it was? Now come on, we’re meeting Jinyoung at that new café down the street in fifteen.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to picture the café on the mental map he keeps in his mind, “the one that used to be a video store in the 90s?”

Bambam made his way into the living room, picking up a few glasses that rested on the coffee table Jaebeom’s feet were on top of, and marched over to the small kitchen. Jaebeom has lived in this apartment more years than he’d like to admit, especially because enough time had passed that the neighbors he had were clearly aging and he just stayed 26. The thought of moving somewhere new often enters his mind, but with this place, he just can’t bring it in himself to go quite yet. It’s almost as though something is tying him to this city, this place – like he’s waiting for something.

“Yes, and a speakeasy in the 20s both of which are not important right now because we live in the 21st century Jaebeom. Now come on, Jinyoung’s waiting – that asshole is always early.”

He heard Bambam mumble something along the lines of known him 100 years, would it kill him to just be on time for once, as he furiously dropped the glasses on the kitchen counter.

“Do I have to go?”

Bambam paused his motions of putting Jaebeom’s dirty dishes into the sink to stare the older vampire down, “Jaebeom you only turn 200 once.”

He scoffed in response, “Jesus don’t remind me.”

“We have to make a whole day of it! So please just put the shirt on, because I want you looking presentable,” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, suddenly wiggling his eyebrows, “you never know what could happen.” The final word is drawn out, almost sing-song like and it drives Jaebeom up the wall because he knows exactly what Bambam is referencing.

For Jaebeom and those like Jaebeom, they didn’t consider the day they were born as their birthday, but instead as the day they turned. There was no point in celebrating their birth anymore as they were no longer alive. However, at this point after 200 birthdays, – alive and dead combined - Jaebeom was beginning to believe that there was no point to those either. He always knew being immortal was a curse but day by day that idea was only solidifying itself in his mind.

Jaebeom let out a gruff breath which only made Bambam look up from the fork he was scrubbing, “Bam I don’t know what you think is going to happen today… but it certainly isn’t that.”

The “that” he was referencing was one of the main factors that as of late had made him feel like living forever was indeed a waste. It was the thing that was supposed to make him feel “complete.” According to old texts and traditional vampire folklore, he was now walking around half full, but once he met his mate, he would become whole. At first, he didn’t believe the tale. He had gotten by so far without a mate that the idea of him not being complete made him laugh. But watching both Bambam and Jinyoung find their mates – Bambam 70 years ago and Jinyoung 16 years ago – made him finally acknowledge and reflect on the piece of himself he was missing.

And fuck he was lonely.

Bambam chuckled at him as if being in on his own personal joke. His friend was strange like that sometimes, “just put the shirt on Jaebeom.”

By the time he’s had the shirt on and Bambam has somehow convinced him to let him wear his Rolex he got as a gift from his friend Jackson in 1920, Jaebeom feels mentally prepared to leave the house and embark on this dreadful day. The reminder that he has now been around for 200 years and still is not whole.

“Finally,” Jinyoung sighed when Jaebeom and Bambam finally reached the café down the street, “I’ve been waiting 20 minutes.”

A disgruntled Bambam checks his watch, “well if you don’t want to wait every single time, don’t be so fucking early,” he promptly turned to Jaebeom to share his grief regarding their friend, “you think he would learn after all this time.”

“Let’s just go order,” Jaebeom shrugged, not caring to be in another disagreement between his longer than life friends.

“Be honest you’re early on purpose just so it gives you something to complain about and a reason to make us feel bad!”

Jinyoung ignored Bambam’s theory, replying to the oldest, “no need. I already ordered for the three of us. It’s a special day, the birthday boy doesn’t need to pay,” he glanced at Bambam, “you on the other hand…”

The two new arrivals, flop down into the sofa chairs on either side of Jinyoung, along of them situated to make a half-circle in front of a low coffee table. The three of them had somehow stuck into this… pattern. Years of friendship that contained years of Bambam/Jinyoung squabbles that Jaebeom would often have to mediate. Patterns were nice, but sometimes they would get old – especially after so long.

As the two of them argue over whether or not Bambam should pay Jinyoung back for a simple iced Americano because Bam swears he got the drinks the last two times, Jaebeom looks over to the counter where the baristas work on – no doubt – the plethora of orders they have. The factor of the café being new has certainly been the cause of the popularity and amount of people in the shop. He can’t help but feel bad for the individuals working on the drinks – three years ago he had been one of them for roughly 18 months and knew that it wasn’t as easy as it appeared to be.

In retrospect, Jaebeom didn’t have to work. He had so much time to learn and understand what it meant to be financially responsible. Not only that, but he’s literally had hundreds of years to save. Plus, his early investments in companies ended up landing him some pretty substantial and valuable shares. Jaebeom was sitting on quite the pretty penny.

“Wow your portfolio is remarkable… I’ve never seen one like it,” his latest financial advisor had said to him in complete awe, “I mean an early investor in Amazon? Apple? Mastercard?”

Jaebeom had laughed nervously, “What can I say? My grandpa had good intuition, I guess.”

Money aside, he had wanted something to do with his time – hence his barista job. It was fun, but like most things, Jaebeom just grew tired of it and as he watched the girl working the espresso machine let out an exhausted breath, he realized that he wasn’t missing it.

Jaebeom has become good at studying people. It was something he still wasn’t sure of whether it was a vampire thing or just something he had picked up over time. Watching the girl at the machine, her hair is in a low bun, a few strands falling in front of her face. It’s clear with the way the hair tie is situated, that the hairstyle was once a bit neater, tighter, and sat at the middle or even top of her head. However, the now fallen placement and slight disarray signal how busy she’s been working and how fried she must be feeling.

He looks to the string bracelet on her wrist, visible from far away enough for Jaebeom to conclude that she must have someone in her life deemed important to wear one of those “friendship” bracelets. He never saw the point, but humans were strange creatures, despite him once being one.

Jaebeom’s breath hitches when he catches sight of the delicately drawn tattoo on her wrist near the bracelet. It’s of lavender and it immediately reminds him of his mother who had loved exploring the lavender field that had been near his home when he was a child. Despite all the time that has passed since he lost his mother, the pain that aches inside of Jaebeom when he thinks of her isn’t any less.

His thoughts are interrupted by the call at the coffee bar, “Order for Jinyoung.”

The call comes from the overworked girl he had been studying and Jaebeom wants more than anything to stand up and retrieve their orders. He finds a weird want to hear what her laugh sounds like. Maybe he could say something or strike up a conversation that would-

“What are you doing?” It takes Jaebeom a moment to notice that he has partially stood up from his chair as if he’s about to go somewhere. Cluelessly, he replied, “going to get the drinks.”

The youngest shook his head, “No way! Birthday boys don’t get their drinks, they don’t lift a finger.”

He knew Bambam was one to take birthdays seriously, but this was beginning to feel like it was going the extra mile too many.

“I’ll get it.”

Jaebeom watched Bambam get up to retrieve the drinks. He expects him to just grab the drinks and return to the table, but instead, Bambam says something to the girl. Arching his neck to the side, he tries to make a clear path to eavesdrop on what’s being said, hearing being one of the benefits of turning. Unfortunately, the café is too loud for him to focus on the conversation and he’s defeated by the fact that he’ll have to stay in the dark.

The girl laughs loudly at something Bambam said and Jaebeom can’t help but feel mixed about it. On one hand, he got his wish – hearing her laugh – but on the other hand, he wasn’t the cause of it. For some reason it makes him bring his clench and unclench his fists which rest on the arms of the sofa chair. Jinyoung takes notice.

Jaebeom quickly looks down at his lap when he senses that Bambam is returning to where they’re sat, not wanting to give away that he had been staring. First, he places Jinyoung’s and his drink on the table, soon turning back around to go back and fetch the last drink – Jaebeom’s.

When he comes back, Jaebeom looks up to see a large grin spread across the youngest’s face. He has that look again – the one as if he knows a joke Jaebeom doesn’t.

The latter nodded his head in thanks for getting the drinks as he inspects his green tea on the table. Just as he’s about to pick up the mug, he’s stopped in his tracks by an announcement coming from the coffee bar.

“Hello everyone! Sorry for the interruption, but I’ve been told that we have a birthday here today,” you said. Giving announcements wasn’t your strong suit, but you figured now that you were an actual owner of something, you were going to get over your shyness. But you didn’t think it was going to be that often that a tall, skinny and pale boy with a Rolex on his wrist would be asking you to get your coffee shop to sing happy birthday for his friend. Even when you were a barista working for someone else no one had made such a request. This was a café after all, not an Applebee’s.

Jaebeom wished more than anything that he could sink into his seat and just disappear. If only that cliché that vampires turned into bats were true, then he could just fly away at a moment’s notice. Leave it to Bambam to torture him like this. It wasn’t intentional of course, but it certainly felt like it to Jaebeom.

It was especially tragic to him because the girl he had been studying was the one leading the entire café in singing “Happy Birthday.” He did his best to avoid looking at her, feeling like his entire body was heating up in embarrassment even though he couldn't heat up.

You on the other hand felt a little insulted by the birthday boy’s lack of eye contact. You hadn’t even managed to get a good look at him before you started singing and now it was not possible with the way that he was looking down at the ground, his long hair falling in front of his face, concealing itself to you. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that he felt awkward about a bunch of strangers he had never met singing him happy birthday, you had felt the same whenever your friends tried to ambush you on your birthday… but you at least looked up and acknowledged the presence of the people singing. A tight smile from this guy would even be happily accepted.

When the song is over and the claps that follow finally subside, he looks up to see the café back at its previous state of normalcy, not a single person looking at him anymore. Jaebeom lets out a sigh of relief.

“You could at least act like you liked it,” Bambam huffed in annoyance. He wished Jaebeom could appreciate the idea of birthdays like he did.

“I really didn’t need to be the center of attention today Bam.”

“But it’s your bir-” Bambam begins to explain, but Jaebeom abruptly cuts him off, not wanting to hear his reasoning for today’s antics, yet again. The day hadn’t even started.

“My birthday, I know. Thanks for reminding me.”

Jinyoung clears his throat and plays with the spoon that came with his Flat White. Just as Jaebeom is the mediator for Bambam and Jinyoung, sometimes Jinyoung has to be the mediator for Jaebeom and Bambam. Essentially the commonality in the disagreements of their trio friendship is Bambam and currently, Jinyoung feels as though he should route the conversation elsewhere.

“What else is in the cards for tonight then boys?”

It’s then based on the look on Jaebeom’s face, that Jinyoung thinks that maybe talking about the plans for tonight – on Jaebeom’s birthday – isn’t re-routing the conversation. Especially since it’s Bambam’s whose eyes light up and is the one to reply to him.

“Obviously we’re going out tonight,” Bambam paused and turned to Jaebeom, wagging his finger in the latter’s face, “there’s no way you’re getting out of this. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and didn’t respond as he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had rejected Bambam’s invitations to go out consistently for the last 6 months and on his birthday of all days, Bam was going to force him out of the house just as he had done this morning to come to the café.

He looks back to the front counter, his eyes searching for the barista who has now suddenly disappeared. A frown begins to make itself known on his face, feeling a bit disappointed by the fact that she may have left already or gone elsewhere, but soon she’s popping up from behind the counter, no doubt getting something from the cabinets below. Jaebeom feels relief.

“What did you say to her?” he asked suddenly looking back at Bambam.

He cocked his head to the side, confused, “What did I say to who?”

“The barista behind the counter.”

His friend nodded his head slowly, suddenly realizing what Jaebeom means. A smirk appears on his face, “nothing much… Just how it was your birthday and it would be really good if we could all embarrass you by singing about it. She’s not a barista, by the way, she owns the place. Kinda backward thinking there Jae. It’s the 21st century, women can own things now, they can vote.”

“I know that,” Jaebeom hissed.

Bambam puts up his hands in defeat, “I’m just making sure.”

“Don’t you know her?” Jinyoung asked, “isn’t that why we came here?”

Jaebeom’s interests are perked. It’s not often that the three of them meet new people. It’s not like there’s a huge point to it. The last new person the three of them met was Mark – also a vampire – a bartender at their favorite club in the city, but that was in 2007.

He waits for Bambam’s explanation as to how he knows this girl and why they came here specifically beside it just being near Jaebeom’s apartment.

Waving his hand nonchalantly, the Thai boy gives his answer, “I don’t really know her. Minji does. Met her in some kind of class, I think. SoulCycle? Pilates? Zumba? I don’t know. I can’t keep up with her and her activities these days.”

Minji is Bambam’s mate. He had turned her only a month after they met.

Jaebeom’s not sure what he would do if he met his mate. He doesn’t know if he would want to subject them to turning and living the same kind of life as him, but he also doesn’t know if he could continue life alone after meeting his mate. If he ever meets them.

“Why the curiosity?” Jinyoung asked, for once finding it hard to remain stone-faced. Even his usual chill, non-revealing demeanor seems to fade away when it appears that his older friend might be attracted to someone.

Jaebeom simply shrugged, “it’s nothing…”

“What do you think? Could she be the one?” Bambam asked teasingly, pointing to the girl behind the counter.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes almost immediately at the younger boy, “if you’re going to keep bothering him about it, don’t make it so obvious idiot.”

Jaebeom had been alive – or more like undead – for 200 years and more than half of that time he had to listen to this same conversation from his friends over and over again. His patience was wearing thin and 180 years later, he was tired of their pestering.

He leaned forward slowly and grabbed his green tea off the table, making sure to visibly flinch at the heat of the drink, Bambam, and Jinyoung chuckling at his reaction. Out of the three of them, Jaebeom certainly had the most practice when it came to “putting on a show” for the humans and “acting” the most human. Taking a sip, he looked back at the girl behind the counter.

The youngest vampire had spent many of their outings and conversations hypothesizing who Jaebeom’s mate could be. Despite being the oldest of the three, Jaebeom was the only one left who still hadn’t found his mate and he was beginning to feel hopeless. Typically, Bambam pointed out any human girl as a candidate – all of them of course ended up not being his mate. Therefore, Jaebeom didn’t pay attention to his picks anymore, but he had to admit… He did get a strange feeling from the girl behind the counter.

Jaebeom looked to you, hoping to catch your gaze as you quickly made the coffee orders for the few people waiting to the side of the cash register. Just when he was about to give up and focus his attention back on his friends, you tore your concentration away from the drink in your hand and looked up at him from across the cafe.

Jaebeom focused his gaze deep onto you with his eyes – testing, checking, and trialing your focus. You didn’t look away, instead, you trained your eyes deeply into his and stared at him until finally, it was Jaebeom who broke the contact.

He shook his head at his friends, disappointed by your inability to break the trance and ultimately confused at the feeling he still got from you despite that.

Jaebeom took another sip of the tea, “it’s not her.”

“Did you have to debate that Uber driver on the Twilight franchise?” Jinyoung groaned at Bambam as soon as they’re out of the car.

The entire twenty-minute ride, he had got into a heated discussion with their driver on how Twilight was not “true” or realistic to most actual vampire folklore. It had been an excruciating thing to listen to.

“Got to stand up for our kind dude.”

“Okay, but what happens when she starts asking how you know all these things or why you’re so interested in vampire stuff?” Jinyoung tended to always be right. This wasn’t an exception.

Brushing off his pants, Bambam gives him a nonchalant wave, “chill out man. Everyone loves vampire stuff.”

“Maybe in 2008,” Jaebeom said just barely loud enough for his friends to hear them. The two of them laughed, Bambam shoving him playfully on the shoulder, “Birthday boy getting funny on us.”

“I was always funny,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

“Funny and looking good tonight. Let’s get you laid, shall we?”

After a day that was jampacked full of various activities planned by his youngest friend, the last thing Jaebeom wanted to do was spend extra energy on trying to get some girl to come home with him tonight. Besides, he wasn’t that guy anymore.

Jinyoung scoffed, “he doesn’t need to get laid tonight.”

“Yes, he does! Jaebeom how long has it been?”

This time it’s Jinyoung that shoves Bambam’s shoulder – except it’s not all that playful.

“Fine don’t answer that, but I’m just saying there will be quite a few girls here that you can have your pick of, despite your plain outfit.”

Jaebeom looked at the clothes he had changed into when Bambam spared him a sliver of time to go back home to digress and feed his cats. The latter had wanted him to borrow clothes of his, but instead, Jaebeom decided on pulling pieces from his closet that felt more like him, less like Bambam. A plain pair of ripped jeans, an oversized black shirt that he had bought at a shop from his trip to London last year, and his mother’s necklace that often wasn’t missing from its spot around his neck.

Bambam’s earlier critique was that he was dressed too basic and that no girls would bat an eye at him. Girls don’t like plain guys, he had said. The comment makes Jaebeom wonder about you and whether you’d fall under the category of not liking “plain” guys.

He bites the inside of his cheek. It was probably the eighth time he had made himself do it today. Jaebeom had found his mind often drifting to you throughout the day for some unexplainable reason. During their walk in the park, he wondered if you would take strolls during your breaks from the café or when Bambam forced him to go paint pottery for an hour and a half he thought about what you would paint. It frustrated him because he hadn’t even spoken to you – not a word and yet you were clearly on his mind for one reason or another. It wasn’t even like you were his mate. He had tried to see if you were unaffected by his trance, his hypnotic capabilities, but you had just stared at him completely fixated just as everyone else was.

Jaebeom was not going to think about you any longer. He was already planning on avoiding your café.

“We’re on the list,” Bambam tells the bouncer when they arrive at the entrance of the club. He scans the list and motions his head towards the direction of the door to signal to the three of them to go on ahead. There’s a bit of a whine coming from the people waiting in line which admittedly so makes Jaebeom feel a little guilty, but Bambam ensures him it’s fine, “why have a friend who works at a club if we can’t use him for the perks?”

“Why does he keep bartending again?” As soon as the question is out of Jaebeom’s mouth he realizes it was a stupid thing to ask since the answer is apparent.

Bambam laughed at him, giving his long – irreplaceable he’d like to remind everyone – leather coat to the person at the front of the club. Jaebeom swears he hears him tell the coat check guy the “proper” way to put it on a hanger.

“Obviously for the girls Jaebeom.”

Mark’s mate – Hana had passed on a long time ago. Jaebeom had never got the chance to meet her, only hears about her in passing from some stories that Mark has told the three of them. He hadn’t turned her. Jaebeom’s never asked why.

“Girls… of course.”

He can’t help but think about how Mark must feel inside. Although Jaebeom doesn’t know him as well as he knows Bambam and Jinyoung, whenever he’s with the older boy he’s always got a smile on his face. Often quiet, but he’s always got certain energy bouncing off of him that would indeed make him popular with women. However, if what they say about mates is true, would that mean that a piece of Mark was now missing? Did he feel like he was less of a person? Jaebeom felt like that sometimes and he hadn’t even met his mate yet. Mark had his, but now he didn’t.

“Drinks?” Jinyoung asked the two of them and Jaebeom is partly surprised. Out of the three of them, Bambam was the one who was the most comfortable in a club or even bar setting. He figures that Jinyoung must be using his birthday as an excuse to cut loose and become someone else for the night.

Bambam instantly nodded his head at Jinyoung’s suggestion and Jaebeom finds himself trailing behind the two of them as they make their way over to Mark at the bar who is throwing his head back at something the girl across the bar is saying. Judging on Jaebeom’s intuition – it’s a bit fake and overplayed, but you got to do what you got to do.

“My man!” Bambam yelled over the music, leaning against the counter in a way to make sure he doesn’t get the elbows of his long sleeve turtleneck wet. Mark in response, turned to them and smiled, then routing his attention back to the girl, giving her an apologetic smile. Her half-smile says everything Jaebeom could need to know – this girl would not be going home with Mark after his shift tonight.

“What can I get you guys tonight,” Mark turned to Jaebeom and the latter can barely make out his sharp canines in the dark club, “birthday boy you want anything special?”

Before Jaebeom can reply that he wants to be at home, Bambam answers for him.

“Could we maybe get something that’s off the menu?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Mark who gave him a shit-eating grin, knowing immediately what he was talking about.

“Off the menu” meant Mark’s secret stash of O negative underneath the counter. While alcohol had the same effect on them that it had on the average humans, adding a bit of blood just made a little bit better. Okay… it made it a lot better.

“Three negronis coming right up,” Mark winked to give a little signal that these would most likely not be as well composed or put together as a negroni, but due to them being in public, he couldn’t necessarily announce a shit ton of alcohol mixed with human blood was going to be served up to them.

“How has your birthday been Jae?” Mark asked as he was in the middle of placing three glasses onto the countertop in between them.

It was difficult to explain since to Jaebeom it had just been another day except for a little bit more excruciating. The celebration of another year “older” filled him with thoughts of how much time has passed, whether he’s done anything truly important and why he still hasn’t found the person who is meant to complete him… but like he said only a little more excruciating than any other day.

Jaebeom shrugged in response, “Bam planned a lot and for the most part, it was…” he paused for a moment, wondering if he should say how he felt – numb, lost, and wishing the day would come to an end as if tomorrow won’t bring the same thoughts or problems. But as he looked at his friends who had tried so hard today to make him happy and celebrate, he decided to guard them against the ultimate truth, “for the most part it was fun – really good. I mean besides the singing at the café of course.” He throws in the last part to at least have some kind of believability to his story.

He notices Mark’s eyebrows lift out of curiosity as his concentration focuses on measuring out each part of the drinks, “An entire café sang you happy birthday? Damn, I don’t think I could ever get through that, so I can only imagine how you feel.”

“That was Bam’s idea,” Jinyoung muttered.

Once again, Bambam does his nonchalant waving of the hand, “it wasn’t that bad. I mean okay, maybe it was… But Jaebeom was obsessed with the girl who led it.”

Jaebeom suddenly feels like he wants to put duct tape over his friend’s mouth.

“I was not obsessed with her! I don’t even know her!” Jaebeom for some reason felt the need to defend himself, which was probably the worst option. Him getting defensive was usually a tell-tale sign for his friends being right on whatever they were confronting him with.

Bambam scoffed, bringing gliding his drink across the bar to be directly in front of him once Mark has poured it neatly into the short glass, “I noticed you staring at her before I went to get the drinks. That’s why I asked her to do it in the first place.”

“So, she doesn’t know Minji?” Jinyoung questioned.

The youngest takes his first sip and immediately lets out a hissing noise, signaling to Mark that it’s both strong and good. “No, she does, but Jaebeom’s weird staring only made it that much better.”

Mark pushed the other two glasses towards Jinyoung and Jaebeom, “Was she your…” he drifted off, almost as though he was finding it physically difficult to get the word out. Jaebeom can’t help but feel the want to reach his hand out towards Mark and place it comfortingly on his shoulder, but his group of friends don’t do that. Instead, he saves him the trouble by answering back right away, not forcing him to say it.

“No, she wasn’t.”

The bartender nodded slowly, suddenly avoiding his gaze from the three familiar boys across the bar from him, “That’s uh… too bad that she wasn’t able to break the trance. Sorry, Jaebeom.”

He knows that Mark is just trying to be nice, especially when they’re on a subject that he clearly can’t and doesn’t want to talk about, but the attempt to be comforting makes Jaebeom nauseous.

“Well maybe he’ll find her here tonight,” Jinyoung quipped, placing a hand on Jaebeom’s back. Sometimes the latter swore that his friends treated him he had just found out he had a terminal illness.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Jaebeom commented gruffly.

There’s a sound from the other side of the bar from a customer who seems fed up with the conversation being had between the four of them – distracting Mark from serving anyone else. He gives a signal to them to notify them that he’ll be there in a second. “Well… come to me if you guys need more drinks. It’s on me tonight.”

“Thanks, man,” Jaebeom tells him honestly because he might need a couple more drinks before he gets to the state of wanting to be in this room.

Mark said a final word of “see you guys later” and heads to the other end of the bar to help customers who have been waiting. Grabbing their drinks, Jaebeom, Jinyoung, and Bambam turn around to depart the bar, to find somewhere to sit for a bit before the drinks truly begin to hit them.

With his drink in hand, Jaebeom took a sip and reveled in the perfect balance of alcohol to burn his throat and blood to soothe it. The drink was probably the most relaxing part of his day thus far and as he looked out at the crowd, he could already tell that maybe the mixture was going to his head due to his sudden thinking that this place wasn’t all that bad.

Despite not being a club guy, if he were to go out, Jaebeom would always choose this club that Mark works out. To put it simply – it was vampire friendly. With Mark behind the counter and his “secret” supply free-flowing, it became a notoriously known place for vampires in town. If he had to guess, the attendance on an average night was probably evenly split 50/50, humans and vampires.

The humans weren’t aware of the vampires of course – for the most part.

Jaebeom cleared his throat once they’ve found a booth to sit in, “so… Bam what do you know about that girl?”

Both Jinyoung and Bambam exchange glances before looking back at the birthday boy. The latter tried his best to conceal the smile on his face, “not much… just that she owns the café, knows Minji, and is very single.”

For some reason, Jaebeom’s stomach does a little flip, but he wishes it wouldn’t. “S-So?” Through his stutter, he tries to remain as confident as possible, but his friends see right through his façade.

Jinyoung leaned forward until his elbows rest on the top of his thighs, “Jaebeom you can be honest with us… Why the sudden fascination with this girl? Are you sure she didn’t break the trance? Just with the way that you’re acting…” Jinyoung drifted off, not bothering to finish his final sentence, but once again looking at Bambam. It makes Jaebeom lean forward in his seat as well.

“With the way, I’m acting? I’m completely normal. I’m fine. She didn’t break the trance and now I’m just curious about her as curious as anyone would be about someone they meet.”

There’s the silence between the three of them until Bambam speaks up, “You didn’t meet her though.”

It dawns on Jaebeom that he didn’t even speak to you and he wonders why does it feel like he did. Why did it feel like he knew you but didn’t at the same time? Why haven’t his mind and body been cooperating with him since this morning at the café?

Just with the way that you’re acting…

The way he was acting? What did that mean? Was the way he was acting mean something specific?

He feels like he blinks and thirty minutes go by. And in that past thirty minutes, Jaebeom had somehow managed to drink 6 of Mark’s “negronis.” He felt like his head was beginning to get dizzy. It wasn’t often that Jaebeom found himself drunk on the verge of drunkenness due to alcohol not affecting him as much as humans. To even remotely get to that state, he had to drink a lot and it had to be strong.

“You feeling it Jaebeom?” Through the darkness and the haze of the alcohol, Jaebeom could barely make out the hint of the smile playing on Jinyoung’s face. He had switched to a glass of wine at some point while Jaebeom was binge drinking which had to be the most Jinyoung thing ever. Who drinks a glass of wine in a dark, sweaty club?

He’s afraid to answer him verbally which would give his friend an obvious sign of how he was feeling. So instead he just shrugged – as usual.

“Dude let’s get out there!” The youngest shouted, motioning his hands to the middle of the club, “dance… maybe find you a girl?”

Jaebeom watched the people pressing up against each other on the dancefloor, moving their bodies, and drinking like their lives depended on it. He wondered if he wanted to be a part of that. Everyone out there was so full of life and vigor… he just wasn’t. He also didn’t know if he was that drunk, but bless Bambam because he didn’t need alcohol to be out there.

For what feels like the millionth time, his mind drifted to you. Was this your kind of place? Would you come here? If you did would you come alone? With friends? Someone else? You didn’t seem like the type of person who would like this place. You seemed more like him – the observant, calm, inquisitive type who would much rather be at home with a book than at a party.

Then for a moment, he can picture it. It’s almost like he’s in a trance – an image of you curled up on a couch – his couch – under a large white cable knit blanket fills his mind. Rather than reading, your painting with watercolors – the kind that seems to be in every elementary school classroom – and he hears a voice out of view. His voice.

“Painting really?”

Jaebeom sees you glance up from your painting to look at him, smiling.

“Looks like I’m gonna have a lot of time on my hands so… might as well get good at something.”

Jaebeom hears himself laugh, “Okay but watercolors?”

He feels like he’s going to pass out when he finally hears it – your laugh.

“Let the artist work Im Jaebeom! She needs to get good enough to live off auction house money once her paintings get sold! Shh!” Despite your words, you smiled and suddenly moved the tools away from you onto the coffee table. You lifted half the blanket off of you and patted the space of the couch beside you, “you know I can’t say no when you give me that face. Come here.”

And just like that, the vision is gone. Jaebeom feels confused because it didn’t feel like a dream or fantasy, but it felt real… it felt like a memory.

“Hello, Earth to Jaebeom?”

Right… dancing. Maybe dancing would help him forget whatever game his mind was playing on him.

“Yeah let’s fucking go.”

Another instance occurs where Jaebeom blinks and everything moves so fast. Suddenly he’s no longer sat at the table with Bambam and Jinyoung, but instead in the middle of that mess on the dancefloor with everyone else. He almost feels like one of them. He almost feels human again. But as soon as that feeling washes over him, it quickly dissipates.

He knows it must be the drinks doing all the work, because otherwise, he would have never found himself in the middle of all these people, thinking that dancing is a good idea. Dancing had never done anything remotely good for him before, so why now? To help forget? Was it going to help him do that?

“I swear it’s like he’s not even here.”

Jaebeom tuned back into the moment, and it’s when he realizes that Jinyoung and Bambam have been trying to get his attention this entire time.

“Sorry I was just- the alcohol you know…” He says it so quietly that he knows his friends won’t be able to hear him over the music and the millions of conversations happening around them. But he thinks that maybe it’s better that way and that it truly doesn’t matter what he says.

Jinyoung comes closer to Jaebeom, until his mouth is right next to his ear, “we were just asking if there’s anyone that you’re interested in.”

They’re still on this idea? Jaebeom asked himself.

Even in his drunken state, he didn’t think that finding some random girl to fuck was going to help with the emptiness he’s been feeling lately, but for the first time since getting up and onto the dance floor he takes in the people around him. As depressing as it was to observe, most people were here with someone else.

It’s then his gaze falls onto a couple that stands far on the left side of the floor, behind where Jinyoung is standing. The two of them have their fronts pressed up against each other, dancing so closely with arms exploring one another’s bodies. The female has her head resting on the male’s shoulder as if she’s too exhausted to keep going, but can’t dare to part with him. It’s like they’re part of each other and any distance would cause them to lose all sense of themselves.

The girl lifts her head off the male’s shoulder and gives him this look that makes Jaebeom’s heart – if it was still beating – ache. She says something to him and he nodded happily in response. Even through the dim lights and large crowd, Jaebeom could see the sharp teeth inside her mouth.

She placed her head back against his shoulder, this time, however, the male had his head angled back, stretching out his neck. The girl moves in closer until her mouth just ghosts over the skin, breathing on it until the boy shuts his eyes awaiting the sting and pleasure that will come next.

Biting down against his flesh, breaking skin, the girl drinks from her partner. Even though he’s at a distance from them, Jaebeom can tell by the look on the man’s face that he’s enjoying being fed on and that it certainly isn’t his first time.

He feels like his eyes are frozen on the couple. It’s been so long since he fed off someone instead of the stuff that he gets from his connection at the hospital. Jaebeom tries not to think about the way his fingertips tingle and his throat dries up at the thought of drinking from a warm body. The alcohol has only dehydrated him and made him feel even more thirsty – he’s afraid that going back to the bar and asking Mark for a glass of O negative exclusively isn’t going to make that go away.

After a moment or two, the girl removes her mouth from the boy’s neck and drags her tongue over the spot where she had drawn blood from, ultimately covering the wound and signaling that she was done drinking.

He thinks of how risky it is to do that at a place like this. Although half of the people around them also take part in the activity of drinking blooding and granted most of them aren’t paying attention to those around them – there are still unsuspecting humans everywhere. If one wrong person were to see then that could be it for this club being a haven for the vampire community in the city and that would probably be… it for vampires in this city in general.

But who was he kidding? He was being a hypocrite because he’s for sure done the same thing.

You’ve once again entered his mind. However, this time it isn’t an image, picture, or vision that occupies his thoughts, but instead just the idea of how you would react to who he is, what he really is. Throughout his time that he’s been undead he’s only done the “reveal” to a handful of people and even then, it took him a long time to get there. Well except for one person who ultimately was a mistake and his friends hadn’t hesitated to let him know.

With you, Jaebeom felt that you wouldn’t be the kind of person to judge him instantly based on what he was. You would be shocked of course, maybe even scared, but you wouldn’t let that cloud your judgment. You wouldn’t let yourself reject something just because it was unfamiliar.

What the fuck was he on about?

It must be the alcohol doing this to him. He would have to thank Mark for making them strong this time around, but also make a mental note to never let this happen again. Jaebeom was already a deeper thinker, but this was getting out of hand.

There’s a sudden grasp of Jaebeom’s elbow and he feels himself jump at the sudden touch. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized it wasn’t one of his friends considering Bambam and Jinyoung were both dancing over to his right side.

When he turned around to greet the person who had grabbed him, he was disappointed, surprised, and annoyed all in one. It was the last person he had expected to see her, except not really because it made perfect sense.

“Jaebeom… hi.” Ara smiled shyly at him, tucking a string of hair behind her ear and slightly looking down at the ground. He wants to groan because he knows she’s doing this because he had once mentioned that he thought it was hot when she looked innocent. He shouldn’t have ever said that.

He’s not sure what to say, because what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been trying to avoid for the past year and a half? Jaebeom had said everything he had wanted to say to her.

At one point in his life, he had been stupid. He had been stupid and he had abused the power that had been bestowed upon him since the day he had been turned. Perhaps one would assume that he’d been foolish with his ability just at the start – 100, maybe even 150 years ago. Instead, Jaebeom had gone through a rough patch about a year or two ago.

The overwhelming pressure of finding his mate had started to get to him again. All he needed was someone, anyone to break the hypnotic trance and that was it. A task that seemed so simple, yet never came. So, Jaebeom had used hypnotism to his advantage, getting as many girls as he could in his bed in the shortest amount of time possible. He wasn’t proud of it and it was something he would constantly regret as long as he was ali- around.

One of those girls… had been Ara.

Jaebeom felt relieved when she didn’t wait for him to answer back at her greeting, “How are you? I-It’s your birthday, right? How old are you turning again? 27?” She winked immediately after her question and he wants to roll his eyes.

She was the mistake by the way. The mistake that knew about who he was.

He doesn’t even remember how it happened, how his secret slipped, or what the circumstances of her finding out was. Part of him thinks he was just horny, thirsty, and weak, but she found out and she… loved it.

Weirdly enough, Ara loved the idea of him being a vampire and his “lifestyle” which at first Jaebeom didn’t think too much about. He thought okay she’s taking this extremely well… better than anyone else I’ve ever told, but whatever, but then it became strange.

She was what those in the vampire community call a “vampire fetishizer.”

He coughed awkwardly, his gaze wandering over to Jinyoung and Bambam, hoping they would catch sight of him stuck with Ara and come rescue him. Jaebeom wasn’t that lucky though, not even on his birthday, “Yeah… 27.”

Jaebeom can’t help but look at her neck. It’s fully on display and it was clear that Ara had come here to find someone to feed on her. He had been the one to show Ara this place before he had been clued into her little… vampire obsession.

“Well did the birthday boy get everything he wants today?” She smiled and gave Jaebeom those eyes. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and he realizes he has to keep himself in check because he’s not that weak tonight… right?

His eyes flash to her neck again and Jaebeom feels his throat get even drier. He was so thirsty and he knows Ara would be so willing.

No Jaebeom… No.

“I-I uh yeah… you know got- yeah today’s been good,” he stuttered awkwardly, bringing his tongue out to wet his dry lips. Judging on the look on Ara’s face, she’s taken the action the wrong way.

“You look thirsty Jaebeom… do you want a drink?”

He knows what she means and Jaebeom swallows hard in an attempt to distract himself, to remind himself that he’s not that thirsty. He doesn’t need it that bad.

“I-I think I am.”

The words come out faster than his brain can process to stop them and the part of Jaebeom that’s coherent, sharp, and aware wants to punch the weak and drunk Jaebeom in the face.

Without a word, Ara turned from Jaebeom and began walking to one of the exits at the side of the club. He feels like he’s the one in a trance, mindlessly following her through the people, not even hearing Jinyoung and Bambam calling out to him. The only thing that Jaebeom makes note of as he follows her is Mark’s face behind the bar, giving him a tight smile. It almost stops Jaebeom. Almost.

When they finally get outside through the exit door, they find themselves in a small alley between the club and a dry cleaner.

Jaebeom doesn’t even get a moment to think before Ara is pushing him against the wall of the dry cleaner, her hands roaming up and down his body, her lips going to his own. They’re pressed up against each other so closely that he recalls the couple he had watched earlier. He feels sick comparing this moment now to the two of them.

“Fuck I missed you so much,” Ara sighed seductively into this ear, making Jaebeom’s stomach churn further at her clear longing for him. Well not him, but the vampire part of him.

“Please, I need it,” she mewled. At her words, he almost puts a stop to this whole thing and has to question whether this is the right thing to do. Jaebeom wonders if this is old Jaebeom behavior – the one that just used women and threw them away later like toys, but then he remembers that this is Ara. She’s using him as well.

It’s almost as though that old, cocky, snide Jaebeom appears out of nowhere as he says his next words and brings himself closer to her neck, “do you really need it?”

“Yes, Jaebeom I do, please.” Ara already sounds so desperate and he’s barely done anything. He can’t help but smirk at her reaction.

“Then I guess I better give it to you then.”

He’s about to do it. He’s about to bite down and finally relieve his thirst, his craving, but then he looks to the side of the alley – towards the street. He feels like he’s seeing things again like he’s in the middle of a hallucination or mirage. That thought is pushed away when he locks eyes with you.

“Don’t mind me,” you placed your hands up in front of yourself, to show him you’re not eavesdropping. Your action frustrated you because it would have been much better to say nothing, but you felt yourself panic. The prolonged eye contact with him while he’s just seconds away from pressing down – bitting down? – on the girl’s next for some reason pushed you into defensive mode. Not to mention his eyes… his eyes were – red?

The girl hadn’t noticed you; you aren’t even sure if she heard you, but she certainly noticed Jaebeom’s stare fixated on you. When she faces you, she wears an unpleasant sneer, clearly annoyed by your interruption of whatever this was.

“Can you go?” She said, the agitation in her voice more than apparent.

Rather than immediately leave the scene, you continued to stare at Jaebeom. It’s difficult to say why you decided to walk this specific way home despite it being so late and dark out, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be pulled in this direction. You weren’t someone who believed in signs or fate, but it felt so wrong to go any other way tonight. That was another thing, you felt this kink in your neck that practically forced you or taunted you into looking down the alley between this dry cleaners and club. It was yet another thing about today that felt unexplainable to you as you certainly weren’t expecting the birthday boy from the café today to be in a compromising position with some girl.

After a moment of more uncomfortable staring – something else that had happened at the café today with him – Jaebeom breaks your gaze and looks down at his feet. The eye roll and acrid look on the girl’s face don’t go unnoticed by you.

You shouldn’t be here.

“S-Sorry. I’ll just get going then,” you concluded, unsure why you felt an uncomfortable sickness spread throughout the entirety of your body.

You barely knew this guy – all you really knew was that today was his birthday and that he was friends with Minji’s boyfriend. Basically nothing. Yet now and even earlier back at the café you had felt this weird sensation within yourself. Not even when you looked at him, but just being in the same presence. It had been so hard to focus on making coffee today when he was seated across the room. Every part of your body just wanted to get closer, gravitate towards him. It was fucking weird… and scary.

The girl nodded as if to signal “yeah about time,” at the announcement of your departure. Jaebeom on the other hand, still had his eyes glued to the ground as if looking at you once again will cause him some kind of pain.

Just as you’re about to continue your trip back home, you stop yourself and look back at the couple in the alley.

“Happy birthday by the way…” you paused wondering if it would be weird to say his name considering he doesn’t even know yours, but you shove the thought out of your mind, “Jaebeom…”

Hearing you say his name causes that tingling feeling in his fingertips to come back and his entire mind is sent into a frenzy. He feels too awkward, too shy to look at you again, but a sudden thought washed over him. What if earlier was a mistake? What if you are his mate? With the way he was currently feeling just at you saying his name, the visions he had in the club and the nonstop place you know had in his mind, it was difficult to believe that you weren’t his mate.

Bambam and Jinyoung had found it difficult to explain to him what it felt like to find your mate, but surely what he felt right now wasn’t normal behavior or feelings. Unless he was a psychopath.

Tightly shutting his eyes and drawing together all his strength, Jaebeom aims to try once again to see if you can break the hypnotic trance, unaffected by his abilities. However, as soon as he’s finally ready, head turned up to face you – you’re gone. You didn’t wait for him to respond to the happy birthday message. Instead, you simply left not wanting to be a burden or troublesome to whatever it was those two were doing in that alley.

“Thank fucking god, let’s get back to it,” Ara concluded with a final roll of her eyes, gripping Jaebeom’s shoulders to get him close to her once again. He stares at her neck, but this time he doesn’t feel anything. He no longer feels thirsty and his appetite is gone.

Jaebeom shrugs her off slightly. The encounter with you has caused him to wake up and realize what a bad idea it would be to do this right now. He hopes that Ara won’t put up a fight – he doesn’t want to have to hypnotize her if he doesn’t need to.

At his actions, Ara takes a step away in disbelief, as if she actually can’t believe that Jaebeom is changing his mind and no longer wants her, “are you serious?”

He doesn’t say anything but instead avoids eye contact with her just as he had done for you.

Snorting, she glared at him, “Fine. Whatever. I don’t fucking care. I can find someone else to feed off of me. Yours never felt that good anyway. Asshole.”

Just like that, she’s out of his life once again and Jaebeom can’t help but feel thankful. He should have never been weak enough to be dragged out by here anyway. He had just been consumed by thoughts of you, alcohol, and the couple on the dancefloor. Then again, not coming out here would have robbed him of the opportunity of seeing you again and finding out that you actually knew his name.

That’s when it dawned on him.

Fuck… how much had you seen? What did you see?

Jaebeom realized that he might have some explaining to do

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #im jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom smut

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delos-mio · 4 years ago

Text

Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 2

A/N: Part 2! I hope you enjoy this chapter. No major warnings apply! Thoughts, feelings, predictions always welcome <3

***

After dropping you off that evening, Nikolai found his mind to be running a mile a minute. It was 1am, relatively early by college standards, but he had no desire to go back to the party and no desire to go home. Instead, he walked around campus until his feet throbbed. He thought about your smile and your laugh, the way you bit your lip and the way you toyed with the ends of your hair. He thought about how you could very well be in the arms of another man right now.

He could have lived without that mental image.

It seemed wild to him that you could make so many feelings flood back to him in such a short amount of time. It hit him like a ton of bricks the moment you locked eyes, and it was instantly like the last 5 years of silence never even happened. God, he wished they never happened. How could he have been so cruel? Who just up and left the person they were very clearly falling in love without a trace? Nikolai, that’s who. And under the penetrating glow of the moon, for the next six or so hours, Nikolai hated himself for it.

Nikolai quietly tried to sneak back into the apartment he shared with Aleks around 7am. Generally, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, so he figured it’d be no problem. As the front door clicked shut behind him, another door clicked open inside the apartment. Alina, clad in only one of Aleks’s shirts, exited his room and immediately jumped upon seeing Nikolai. He quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to the ceiling, trying to look anywhere but at the half-naked girl before him.

“So, I take it he wasn’t too upset I left the party early?” he asked before she blushed and quickly padded down the hall to the bathroom.

Nikolai pushed his hair back from his face and shook his head. Of course Aleks had company. He made his way to his room and let the back of his knees hit the mattress, flopping onto his back. His eyes fluttered shut as he mulled over the events of the evening. He knew he needed to turn his brain off and actually try to get some sleep, but that was still proving to be rather difficult. As he was getting lost in his own thoughts, he was interrupted by his door being flung open and Aleks leaning in his door frame.

“Do you mind? I’m really tired,” Nikolai grumbled, still not opening his eyes.

“You dog! You got home later than me,” he said with a smile evident in his voice.

“It’s not like that. You’ll notice I didn’t bring anyone home with me, now did I?” Nikolai was starting to get irritated by his roommate’s presence and hoped he’d leave him in peace and quiet sooner rather than later.

“Maybe not. But you could have. Seemed like you and Genya’s new roommate had something going on,” he pried.

“Can you fuck off? Respectfully?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you sleep. But you’re gonna tell me about her when you wake up.” With that, Nikolai heard his door shut again, leaving him in the stillness of his room. He fell asleep half hanging off the bed where he landed with the girl who got away on his mind.

----

When you woke up the next morning, Nikolai was still fresh on your mind. The way he smiled, the way he smelled…everything about him haunted your dreams. It didn’t even take a full minute before the guilt settled in. Jesus Christ, what were you thinking? Did Matt cease to exist because your first love cropped up out of nowhere? You just started flirting with Nikolai again like it was as easy as breathing. But you couldn’t help yourself—Nikolai had worked his way into your head instantly just like he had when you were 17. Like the first time you saw him take off his helmet, shake out his perfect, golden hair, and skate to the bench. It had been a wrap since that moment. You groaned into your pillow, feeling a little nauseous and a lot guilty. After freshening up and pulling a sweatshirt on, you wandered out into the living room of your apartment with Genya where she was eagerly chatting with Zoya over a cup of coffee.

“Fancy seeing you here, ditcher,” Genya teased as you grabbed a mug for yourself.

“I didn’t ditch,” you said. “Nik told you guys we were leaving.”

“Where’d you end up anyways?” Genya asked with a tiny smirk. This line of questioning amused Zoya and she gladly joined in on the antagonizing.

“I can only assume, knowing him, that you ended up somewhere more...private,” Zoya interjected.

“It wasn’t like that. I um, we ended up just going to get some food. Catch up or whatever,” you said while you shot daggers at Genya. You paused to take a sip of the too-hot drink before continuing. “Where have you been hiding Nikolai anyways?”

“He ain’t hiding- have you met the dude? I met him during Freshman orientation. Zoya and I lived in the dorm room next to him and Aleks,” she said as a matter of fact. “We’ve been hanging out ever since. Real good guy.”

“I know,” you sighed, pushing around a pen that was left on the coffee table.

“You like him! Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about him being totally your type. You and your pretty boys. Mhmm, I bet he liked you too,” Genya teased and smiled again.

“No, he’s just an old friend,” you lied. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Could have fooled me,” Zoya mumbled, but you caught it. The comment did nothing to ease the growing knot in your stomach.

“Seriously. He’s my friend. I kinda got carried away with the flirting last night, but I was so excited to see him, you know?” You looked at them both, silently pleading with them to let it drop. “We’re just friends. Nothing else.”

“That may be true now, but the dude has it bad for you. I saw the way he looked at you, dude,” Genya said softly, finally sympathetic to your anguish. “Can I ask how you know each other? Besides ‘high school or something’?”

“We didn’t even go to school together.” You leaned back into the cushions, letting your focus drift away from the girls across from you. “My parents own an ice rink in my hometown and I’d work the concession stand when I got out of school- do my homework and pour hot chocolate or whatever. Nik played hockey with his high school team there.” You smiled to yourself. “I saw him come off the ice one day and thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. And one night, he walked right up to me after practice and started talking to me like we’d known each other forever. I didn’t have a ton of friends in school and hadn’t really been noticed by boys like...ever. So to have this super hot dude flirting with me was wild.”

“Oh my god, was Nik your first crush?” Genya squealed.

“I’d had a couple guys that caught my eye before him, but he was the first guy I really liked. First guy I kissed. First guy I…” you trailed off, letting the pause speak for itself.

“No wonder he was so happy to see you,” Zoya said.

“He kinda ghosted me when he left for college and I hadn’t talked to him since the last night we were together. I was too scared to try and find him on Facebook or anything. I didn’t want to see him with other girls hanging all over him and hurt my own feelings, you know?” Genya and Zoya exchanged a sympathetic look. “Anyways, that’s about it. Pretty boring stuff.”

“Babe…”

“I gotta start getting ready for work,” you said, abruptly standing and putting your mug in the sink. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, you shuffled out of the room, hoping neither of them caught the hitch in your voice. So, maybe you weren’t as over that ghosting as you thought you were.

----

The weekend passed with a lot of idle time thinking about when you could possibly see Nikolai again. You were really regretting not scrawling your number somewhere for him. It was torture not knowing how to find him again outside of groveling to Genya, or hoping dumb luck would make you run into him.

You made it to Monday morning and somehow managed to make it to your 8:30 am class on time; a rare feat for you. Thankfully, the class was all engaged in a lively discussion of what constituted a modern classic novel, so it was easy to stay alert and engaged. Before you knew it, your professor was dismissing you and reminding you all about the paper that was due on Thursday. You shuffled down the stairs of the academic building and paused once you got to the quad. Normally, you’d head home for a few hours before your afternoon class, but you had a little time to spare today before your study group. But you also had Nikolai’s face burned in your mind. Would it be totally weird to try to find him?

The building that housed Science and History was only a quarter mile from your classroom, so you made quick work of the walk and tried to hype yourself up, telling yourself that it was normal to want to see him this bad- you’d missed out on a few years there! Of course you wanted to see your friend. When you got inside, you realized you had no idea where you were going. You had yet to take any sort of History class while at school and had absolutely no idea if he was even in class at this time. God, this was seeming like a dumber and dumber idea the more you walked around. After wandering aimlessly for a minute, you saw a familiar head of effortlessly messy golden hair slink out of a classroom.

Immediately, your eye was drawn to him. You were thankful he didn’t notice your presence because you were definitely staring. All weekend, you were sure you had a picture-perfect vision of him in your head, but you were abruptly reminded that he was much more handsome than you could dream up. He had traded in his button down shirt from the other night for a cozy looking grey sweater. You allowed yourself one more moment to admire him from afar before you approached. But Nikolai had turned to face you straight on, face lighting up the moment he saw you.

“I was wondering when you’d come around.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“So, you don’t think I’m crazy for wandering around a building I’ve literally never set foot in, hoping by cosmic timing you’d be here?” you smirked.

“I promise you, I don’t think you’re crazy. I mean, I was considering doing something quite similar myself,” You couldn’t stop the heat that started to rise in your cheeks.

“So, where are you headed now?” you asked, rocking on your heels.

“Well,” he pondered, “I was going to meet Aleks at The Moose if you’re walking that way.”

“I’m not, but I have a couple minutes before I have to be at my study group if you want to sit outside,” you offered.

“Of course, darling,” he grinned, hazel eyes playful as you found a bench next to the bike rack. “How was your weekend?”

“Not bad,” you shrugged. “I had to work both days, but it was pretty slow, so no complaints. I only got grilled by Genya and Zoya a little. It could have been a lot worse,” you smiled.

“They do love any information they can get their little hands on,” Nikolai said, leaning back into the bench. “You...didn’t see Matt at all?” he probed, trying with all his might to look and sound nonchalant, but failing.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Can I not take an interest in you?” he asked with gentle eyes, but you just glowered.

“No. I didn’t see Matt this weekend. We haven’t even talked since Friday, honestly,” you said. Nikolai didn’t interject at all, just looked at you to go on, if you felt like sharing. “We haven’t really been getting along lately. He’s a nice guy and all, but I don’t know how much we have in common. And he never seems to have time for me unless it’s on his terms. Like, he expects me to be available whenever it works for him, but he’s always conveniently busy if I ask him to do anything with me.” You kicked at a rock near your toe, eyes fixed on the ground, totally unsure why you just told Nikolai all that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. “I’m saying this as your friend,” he started, making you look in his eyes again. “You deserve someone who understands what a gift it is to spend time with you.” It was so simple, but it made tears instantly spring in your eyes. “Hey. Hey, now. None of that,” he smiled, thumbing a tear away. “Would you maybe want to come over Friday? Get pizza and watch a movie or something?”

“That sounds really nice, Nik,” you nodded. It was then he broke into a blinding smile and you were unable to stop the swirling in your belly.

“Could I—would I be able to get your number? So I can send you my address or whatever,” he added quickly; you were really starting to love seeing him get flustered.

“I think that’s a good idea, yeah.” You reached for some scrap paper and pencil from your bag and scribbled down your number, placing it in the palm of his large hands before standing up. His fingers just barely brushed yours as he took the paper before stowing it away in the front pocket of his jeans. “You can always use that number before Friday too, if you want,” you said with a sly smile and patted Nikolai’s cheek gently. His laugh carried a bit as you walked opposite directions out of the quad, your feet feeling like they were being carried by tiny, pink fluffy clouds.

Fuck. Did you just set up a date with Nikolai? No. No, not a date. Just two friends eating pizza and watching movies. Friends did that all the time.

But as you walked to the cafe where your study group met, there was a crashing wave of guilt that washed over you. What the fuck were thinking? All you were doing was playing with fire, practically begging fate to burn you. You were mentally beating yourself up, feeling like a total shit bag as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, seeing your group already gathered and breaking off into pairs, Matt beaming at you when you came into view.

“Hi, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” you smiled back with tight lips, hardly able to look at him.

You started going through notes for an upcoming Logic and Reasoning exam, but you found yourself unable to process anything you were reading. Your mind was elsewhere and you only managed half-hearted affirmations and hardly contributed any correct answers. Here Matt was, sweet and excited to see you. He was good, he was nice. Maybe you just needed to make more of an effort with him. Should he really want to do the things you wanted to do, or were you being selfish? You weren’t sure.

“Something wrong?” he asked suddenly, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Just don’t feel good, that’s all,” you shrugged, looking back at your notebook and computer. He accepted that answer and didn’t probe any further.

“So, you should come over Friday. I don’t have anyone else to hang out with and thought we could hang out,” he said into your ear, hand gripping your thigh.

“Can’t,” you said with a shake of your head. “I already have plans.”

“Oh there’s a surprise,” he said, half under his breath. And that...that was it. You immediately slammed your pen onto the table and looked at him with hard eyes.

“Would you just say whatever you’re trying to fucking say?” you seethed.

“Just seems awfully convenient that every time we’re supposed to do anything, suddenly you have plans with I don’t even know who” he said, clearly annoyed. “All I’ve done is try to accommodate you and do what you want, but that doesn’t seem to be enough,” he added with a melodramatic sigh, which was more than enough to set you off.

“Oh, that’s a fucking joke, right?” you laughed. “Maybe you’d know more about my schedule if you ever bothered to talk to me more than once a week. And you literally just said I should come over because no one else can! Like, I’m your girlfriend- I shouldn’t be your last ditch option,” you scoffed. “You know what? I can’t be here right now. Call me when you’re ready to rejoin all of us in reality.” With that, you grabbed your bag and stormed out the door, letting your feet take you quickly in any direction that was simply away. No, you were right about what you said to Nikolai- Matt only saw you as convenient.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov au #nikolai lantsov fanfic #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone fanfiction #ootw #masterlist

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augment-techs · 3 years ago

Note

“I’m—I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” for Ziggy and whoever you want

The blood soiled the clothes he'd been wearing for less than two weeks as easy as anyone else. Since he'd been fifteen and drawn into the sentry ranks with almost no choice in the matter other than surrender or death, this was something he'd gotten used to. Waiting forever to get new or barely used clothing, only to have it damaged or ruined just after from his inevitably poor luck. Someone actually being there to care about Ziggy in the aftermath of having been inflicted with pain and injury was an almost entirely new experience, though. * Ziggy had been undergoing a lot of new experiences--same as every last one of the other sentries--since the Ranger Slayer ascended Drakkon's throne and set to work making an effort to make the world better. Though, maybe he had the other sentries beat, just the tiniest bit? Even his closest friends and mentors in their small, cloistered group of those not considered heartless, who actually cared about the people out in the world they were supposed to protect, didn't have a superior officer (a Red Sentry CAPTAIN) that was summoned by the Ranger Slayer herself into the throne room the same day as the transfer of power after all the speeches; that allowed Ziggy to tag along because, "Well, everyone will find out by tomorrow, anyway. You might as well put that motor mouth to good use." Ziggy had been under the wing of a goddamn Coinless spy. A General among the people that had been fighting the good fight since before Ziggy was born; who had been hugged by the last vestiges of Angel Grove's living Rangers (Dillon and Scott had to hold him along his shoulders when Ziggy had told them in the barracks that night, he was bouncing in his bed hard enough with such a big smile that it was like he was two years old again without a basic understanding of social constraints; Summer and Flynn just tried not to look too smug that all of them were getting free meals from their own Captains T.J. and Kelsey over having won a bet they'd all made about their favorite Red Sentry) and took his helmet off in front of Ziggy for the first time to introduce himself, not as Captain Williams, but as Eugene Skullovitch, "Skull for short, though. I think you've earned it, kid." Then Ziggy had been introduced to his Captain's best friend in the whole world (Summer had squeaked and almost shouted that she knew who Ziggy was talking about when he described him, "That was Bulk, Ziggy! THE Bulk!") and gotten the biggest hug in his whole life while being doted on by the vast bear of a man speaking of him in glowing terms that had Ziggy limp as a kitten blushing like mad, "Oh, you're the Ziggy I've heard so much about! Skull talks all about you on the wireless, but I think he might have been joking just a tiny bit when he said you're seventeen. Be honest, you're more like fifteen, right? All this hair and wiry muscle, you have to have been pulling his leg?" "Bulk," the Ranger Slayer, who insisted on being called Kim (jesus-fucking-christ) by anyone Skull called friend (which really just meant trust-worthy or not a complete asshole) among the ranks, had put a stop Bulk's mother henning with a gentle tap on the man's shoulder, "Not everyone is built like we were in the old days. I'm sure he'll get more meat on his bones as things improve." It had been awkward after, Ziggy walking with his Captain back to their rooms to find Ziggy's group of friends and the two other Captains; with all of them just gaping at the man's face like they'd never get the chance again. The days that followed with the rebuilding and the Coinless in the halls and taking care of the general populace that had to be told of the change in power and the defeat of Rita. It was tiring, but Ziggy had gotten to spend ten times as much time with his friends and just...not being an enforcer for Scorpina or Drakkon or the like, that he actually allowed himself to relax into the way things were going. He'd signed up for night classes that some of the Coinless and retiring sentries were teaching. He'd been granted two days a week where he

didn't have to dress in his Black Sentry fatigues, could sleep in, could enjoy himself. Ziggy should have known that not all the new changes were appreciated by everyone. There were sentries, after all, who had been totally okay with the way things were with Scorpina, who were afraid of Drakkon like everyone else, but had been prepared to live their lives entirely by the pathological psychopath's way. There were those that had found Skull's being a spy to be an insult or actual betrayal. Those kinds of people always noticed that they could never address their issues with who they thought was the source of their anger; they never would have confronted Skull, even alone, even on his days off where he went out in leather jackets and jeans and could still beat anyone who bothered him into the ground, no problem. So, Ziggy really shouldn't have been surprised to being decked the one day he'd gone out alone to check out some of the new apartments and prefabs he and his...friends? Could they really be called just that when they all kissed and touched more than any other groups Ziggy had ever seen?...were thinking of moving into since the barracks had become a little too impersonal to them. And, maybe, he was less surprised about the beating, than he was about how many people were doing it in tandem, with such efficiency as to render him unconscious within the first five minutes. * Yeah... Ziggy was more surprised to wake up, not in some filthy alley that had once been a desolate place to have battles with the walking corpses Rita Repulsa had walking around taking out everyone they could, but on a couch that could almost pass as new. His wiry frame tucked into blankets like some precious thing, head on a pillow that was so fucking soft it was unreal, the smell of the place a familiar comfort without knowing just where he was... The pain of his arm being swabbed with medical ointment. "OW OW OW!" "Ah, calm down you big baby," Skull practically grumbled like a much put-upon old dog answering the whines of a puppy that had stepped in a puddle and scared itself, "It hurts because it's working. This is actually good medicine and not that watered down crap the medics try and conserve." "How would you know that," Ziggy questioned with as much fizzy sass he could muster with a handprint around his neck, one eye changing color around the edges from the sucker punch that laid him out, countless cuts and scrapes, and a possible concussion that Dillon was gonna be pissed about when he arrived at Skull's apartment in the next hour when he got off his sentry shift, "You steal it out of the medical wing?" "I grow my own herbs, actually. Having a background in Classics means I'm good at recollecting things that might actually be useful when I need them. They might not be fully up to code, but they usually work anyway." Callused fingers dipped into a glass jar and traced the bruising Skull had already gone over, adding a warm, clear liquid that clung to the scrapes and coloring that his skipping stone, underwater eyes kept wandering back to; the feeling cool as mint and the smell mixing in with whatever Skull was boiling in the fireplace on a chain--not entirely unpleasant, but it still had Ziggy squirming in discomfort of being doted on in any capacity. "I'm..." Ziggy started again, trying to ignore the itching behind the eyes when Skull moved into checking the marks around his neck, spider-like and delicate and kinder still than he had any right to be with someone he'd had to defend without being asked, hauled back to his own home and been made to feed and water and treat better than someone like Ziggy deserved. (He'd done so much for Ziggy already, from the moment the Red Sentry Captain had kept him from getting a thrashing by a Yellow Sentry when Ziggy had screwed up one time too many and mouthed off; from the man getting him transferred into Dillon's squadron under supervision from Commander Park with Skull checking in every couple of days; from bailing Ziggy and his friends and ordinary people out of fires

and floods and death holes the cursed spirits of Repulsa found them in too many times to count.) "Yes?" Skull prompted, pausing to wipe his hands on a wet cloth and wrangle the kettle out of the fire. He poured something that smelled delicious into an adorable little leaf and butterfly embossed teacup on a saucer with two little sticks of shortbread on the side. "I'm fine," Ziggy finally got out as he took the offering, taking a sip of something spicy and warm before trying to continue through the stopping point in his throat, "I've had worse." Skull took a huge swig from his own cup like it was nothing more than a shot and looked directly at the boy he'd made his charge, regardless of whether it was a good idea at the time, "And that last bit is exactly why I know you're not fine." The young man tried, he really tried to contest that, but his eyes were wet now, and Skull raised his hand to stall anything his famous motor mouth could pour out into the air between them. "But you will be."

#world of the coinless #boom! comics power rangers #power rangers rpm #ziggy grover #ziggy/dillon/sumjmer/scott/flynn #mmpr #ggpr #post-shattered grid #eugene skull skullovitch #farkas bulk bulkmeier #kimberley hart #ranger slayer #ask fill

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langdxn · 4 years ago

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personal jesus | outpost!michael x reader

Here’s the thing — I adore Marilyn Manson. So obviously I’ve used his cover of Personal Jesus here because it adds a whole bunch of atmosphere, but frankly the original works just as well. Thank you so much for this! 😈

The Outpost library was as quiet as the grave. As noiseless as the decimated world above ground. Still enough to hear your own heartbeat thumping in your chest as the silence deafened.

The eighteen months you and your fellow residents — nay, inmates — spent at Outpost 3 had taken their toll on each individual differently. Some adapted to the desolate circumstances, some turned on each other. You turned on yourself.

The hopelessness of your bleak future underground fostered incurable insomnia in the clinically bronzed Outpost, sleeplessness that soon spiralled into despair. Despair that soon spiralled into suicidal tendencies. Trying any and every method to incite punishment at the hands of Ms Venable’s ruthless tyranny or, worse still, the disapproval of the man sent to evaluate everybody’s characters for suitability for a safe haven outside the underground prison.

Which led you to venture to the library armed with your one luxury item you grabbed from your bedroom before you were dragged underground — a Marilyn Manson CD. The library’s consistent soft rock soundtrack ceased for the night, but a slip of the disc into the radio and a twist of the volume knob blasted the eerie silence away.

Reach out and touch faith

You closed your eyes contentedly, melting into the industrial cacophony without a care to the early hour at which you had just stirred up the perfect punishment, as soon as those thrumming bass waves reached Ms Venable’s quarters, or even that of the new visitor, Langdon. Time was irrelevant, devoid of dusk and dawn to identify one mundane rotation of the barren earth from the next.

Your own personal Jesus

Until a hand curled around your throat and pulled you flush against a person stood behind you. A gentle gulp escaped you as you fell back, but no sound left your lips.

“Why aren’t you screaming?” The inquisitive male voice came from behind, his intonation almost musical, his deep warm breaths fanning your hair as his chest pressed against your spine.

Someone to hear your prayers

“Would it help?” You replied coolly, gulping again as his fingers urged deeper into your windpipe, his thumb sinking a crater just below your jaw. “Get it over with.”

Someone who cares

He sighed into your neck, hovering his lips over your sensitive skin.

“So you’re a lost cause,” he observed with a slow eloquence, words falling from his tongue as if etched in stone to last forever. “You wouldn’t care if you died right here and right now.“

Your own personal Jesus

“Nobody would miss me, my family’s dead up there in Cincinnati and I’ve been single for years,” you scoffed, dipping your head back against his shoulder, the crisp velvet of his clothing brushing the back of your neck as you exposed the column of your throat to him. “Slit my throat, save Ms Venable the bother.”

Someone to hear your prayers

“Now why would I go and do something silly like that?” His condescending tone cut clean through your misguided confidence, almost revelling in your helplessness. “It seems you need some direction, not an end to the road.”

Someone who's there

His digits applied further pressure to your windpipe, his languid breaths swirling around your ear as he contemplated his next move.

Feeling unknown and you're all alone

“Do you believe in God?” He sneered, his nose gently nudging your throat, teasing you.

Flesh and bone by the telephone

“A God that allowed the world to burn to ashes and left me in here without so much as a vibrator?” You peered through the corner of your eye to catch a glimpse of your captor, spotting waves of spun gold cascading around his pale, familiar face. “Not a chance, Mr Langdon.”

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

He chuckled manically, his other hand snaking slowly around your hip and resting in the valley of your pelvis atop your purple gown.

Take second best, put me to the test

“You’re facing imminent death and your first thought is touching yourself?”

His fingertips swooped further south, sending your hips bucking into his touch through the layers of silk draping your figure.

Things on your chest that we need to confess

“Ms Venable forbids it,” you moaned weakly, eyes closing and head journeying to the ceiling. Deprivation of touch for the last 18 months made his every motion atop your heavy dress feel like a burst of electricity through your veins. “Frankly it’s the only thing that’s kept me from this suicide mission any sooner.”

I will deliver, you know I'm a forgiver

“So why tonight?” His enquiry accompanied the shuffle of his digits atop your skirt, quickly gathering the layers upon layers of fabric standing in his way. You swallowed hard against his persistent constraint on your windpipe.

Reach out and touch faith

“You,” you confessed like a forbidden sacrament, both hands subconsciously collecting the silk in bunches for him and hissing softly as the cool breeze brushed your legs. “You’ve interviewed everybody else in the Outpost already, but not me. You’ve avoided me ever since you got here.”

Your own personal Jesus

“Did you think I’d forgotten you?” He remarked sarcastically, gently planting his fingers on your inner thigh, ghosting them ever so slowly northwards until his digits reached your mound and waited there expectantly.

Feeling unknown and you're all alone

“I thought… I thought you realised I wasn’t worth questioning,” you gasped softly as your back arched into him, picking up his satisfied hums beneath his breath. “That I wouldn’t be good enough for the Sanctuary.”

Flesh and bone by the telephone

“Why would you think that?” His fingers pressed down onto your cotton panties, blazing featherlight strokes over your clit and consuming your helpless mewls with impatient taps on your throat punctuating between each drawn-out word. “You’re just as eligible as the rest of your compatriots, if not more due to your sheer tenacity of spirit.”

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

“What’s so tenacious about—fuck,” you spluttered as he circled your bundle of nerves, reducing pressure until the very tip of his finger grazed the dampening fabric between you. “What’s tenacious about trying to commit suicide via Marilyn Manson?”

I will deliver, you know I'm a forgiver

His motions stilled, both hands firing to grip your hips and spin you around to face him. His icy blue eyes bore into yours beneath his fiery hooded lids, searching your face for a reaction.

Reach out and touch faith

“Your ability to defy instruction, of course,” he cooed matter-of-factly while his hand sought out your heat again, fingertips slipping under your panties and surging past your clit. “Can you stay quiet for me, kitten?”

Your own personal Jesus

Without warning, his finger dipped through your folds and buried up to the knuckle in one slick thrust. Throwing yourself forward into his chest, you let out a sharp gasp and panted furiously.

“Oh my god, yes!”

Reach out and touch faith

“Indeed, your God. Now tell me,” Langdon smirked as he looked down to see your convulsions beneath him, coming undone as his finger hooked into your walls inside you. Looking back up to meet your gaze, his ocean blue eyes bled into a pitch black. “Where is your God now?”

#outpost!michael smut #outpost!michael #outpost!michael x reader #Michael Langdon fanfiction #Michael Langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #cody fern fanfiction #cody fern imagines #AHS Apocalypse

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waywardbeanie · 4 years ago

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A Man of Letters - Chapter Four

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 3078

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: Violence aftermath, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always)

A/N: This series has been rattling around in my head for a while. It would never have made it to the light of day if it was not for my beautiful group of friends with whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are and I love you all!

Thank you to my beta’s @winchest09 and @whatareyousearchingfordean without them I would be sunk!

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

Dean “Ass Kicker, Name Taker” Winchester

PO Box 323

Sioux Falls, SD 57101

Your first letter came today. I’m so proud of you, Dean. What you do for others, that no one will ever know. It’s a thankless job and I know you say you don’t care, that it isn’t about the appreciation. I just want YOU to know that you are important and that I love you.

Things aren't the same since you left. I guess that’s the nice thing about living halfway between the Bunker and Sioux Falls. I never knew exactly when you would be here. I swear I could hear Baby coming a mile away. Though even after all this time I could really do without the whole “surprising me” thing, it’s not like we don’t text all the time!. You have seen me so many times with my ratty shorts and sweatshirt on, hair piled on top of my head…ugh.

Anyway, moving on. I miss you, so, so much. PLEASE be safe! Don’t tell me always, because you have come here pretty banged up, more than once. I miss your voice and your laugh. I’ll be honest, I bet I’ve listened to your last voicemail about 50 times by now. My favorite part? The way you say “Baaaabbbbeeeee” all drawn out. You know what I was thinking about today? The first time you stayed the night at my house (wink, wink, wink) I’ll end this for now. Tell Sam to stay safe too! I hope you get this soon and write back! I hate not hearing your voice but I get it.

I Love You,

Your Initial

Three years ago

Deans POV

They were in the living room sitting in two chairs across from Y/N curled under a blanket on the couch. She had taken so long in the shower, Dean had started to worry that she had fallen. He had walked behind her as she limped down the hallway towards the bathroom, refusing his help. He was just grateful she had at least let him take off those damn boots. “Jesus, I don’t know how she wears those on a normal day, I mean Christ, they are so high! Not that she didn't look good in them,” he smirked to himself.

He hovered outside the bathroom door a few times listening to make sure she was ok. He almost banged on the wood once when he swore she was crying but Sam came in from getting rid of the vamp bodies. As he walked into the kitchen he spied Dean hovering outside the room Y/N was in.

“What are you doing?” Sam barked, louder than necessary. Dean jumped about a foot.

“Shut it!” he whispered through clenched teeth, “I’m just checking on her to make sure she’s ok.” Sam just stood at the end of the hall staring at him. ”Really?” he asked sarcastically, “because from here it looks like you’re being pervy.”

“I am not being pervy!” he fired back in an angry whisper, “she’s been in there forever and I think she was crying. I’m just mak-” The shower shut off and Dean stopped talking. Looking wide-eyed at Sam, he carefully snuck back towards the kitchen, stopping next to Sam who looked at him with a frown. “You're definitely being pervy. Stop acting weird, don’t you think she’s been tormented enough tonight? Do you want her to think after all this she now has a creeper in her house?”

“I’m not acting weird, you're acting weird and I’m absolutely not a creeper.” Dean continued to speak in a hushed tone.

“Whatever, dude.” Sam shook his head as he walked to the kitchen sink to clean himself up after using the outside hose to spray everything down in the yard.

As she exited the bathroom and made her way slowly to the living room, Dean had to admit she looked better than before but it was still obvious she’d been severely hurt. . Her right eye was completely swollen shut, surrounded by blue and purple bruising. The handprint on her neck, even darker. Wet hair piled on her head in a messy bun, sporting a black “STYX” long sleeved tee and loose pair of plaid men's boxers. As Sam joined them in the living room, drying his hands, Dean tried to help her on the couch but she stopped him with a slight shake of her head. He backed up, sitting in the high back chair across from her, where Sam joined him.

After she settled, she pondered both of them. Dean leaning forward in the chair studying her, his strong forearms resting on his denim covered knees, a grey T-shirt peeking out from the top of the black button down, rolled up to his elbows, pulling tightly against his muscular biceps. Sam matched his brother's posture wearing a blue plaid button down and denim jeans. Both having work boots encasing their feet. Studying Sam, he was returning her look with consternation when Y/N finally broke the silence, “I hate to be a pain in the ass after all of this,” she gestured around the house, “but can someone PLEASE make me a cup of coffee before you guys tell me what the fuck is going on around here.” Dean was grateful that her voice sounded stronger than before she took a shower. ”Obviously, this chick is a fighter,” he thought, lips lifting slightly.

“Sure, sure,” Sam rose from the chair. “I saw the coffee machine in your kitchen.”

“Thank you, Sam,” as she began to smile her fingers went to her swollen lips “ugh, this is going to get old real quick.” speaking through her fingers, “the coffee stuff is above the machine.” Swinging her gaze back to Dean, “Do you want coffee?”

Grinning he sat back in the chair, crossing his leg, foot settling on the opposite knee. “No, I’m good, sweetheart. You wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger would you?”

Continuing to speak through her fingers resting on her lips, “I have Jameson Black Barrel above the refrigerator.”

“That’ll do.” Rising from the chair he made his way to the kitchen.

“Dean,” she spoke softly, he turned to face her, “how do you know my name?”

Settling back in the living room, Y/N had her hands wrapped around a huge mug of coffee while Sam and Dean relaxed back in their chairs. Each with a tumbler of whiskey, they began with “The Talk”. There are things in this world that are real; vampires, werewolves, witches are all real and they kill them. She was a case and that’s how they knew her name, plain and simple. Vampires killed her parents and she was on their hit list. Cradling the coffee in her palms, she sipped and listened, glancing from one to the other as they spoke.

“I think she’s in shock.” Sam murmured out of the corner of this mouth.

Dean was regarding her carefully. “Y/N, you ok? I know that this is a lot we are piling on you at once, but in this situation we don’t have a choice. There are still two vamps who are after you, not to mention the people who sent them. Sammy and I, we’re going to take care of them, but we also need to keep you safe.”

“Absolutely in shock, you need to give her a minute.” Sam remarked sipping his whiskey.

A shudder climbed up her spine and she began to shake her head. “I knew it, I fucking knew it! My mom and dad dying at the cabin, it made no sense,” she took another sip of her coffee, “they knew how to bear-proof the cabin. We have never had a problem with bears…ever. We have been going to that cabin since I was little. So you’re telling me that vampires did this, those were vampires who attacked me tonight?” Straightening her shoulders she continued her rant, “I thought vampires wore capes or sparked or at the very least looked like Stefan or Damon Salvatore! Not like some creepy, greasy redneck from the corn fields for fuck sake!”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. She was on a roll and even though she was bruised, she was still so damn cute.

Turning she pinned Dean with a look, “So yesterday, at the bar, when you were watching me and asked me to dance...it was just all for a case someone gave you?” Dean could see the hurt fleeting across her face. If he were not looking at her he would have missed it. Sam stood briskly, “I need to go get...something...a book, yeah a book out of the...car.” Setting down his tumbler, he hurried out the front door and slammed it behind him, Dean and Y/N’s gaze never leaving each other. Rising from his chair, he started moving toward the couch when she raised her hand, her palm facing Dean.

“No.” Shaking her head, she watched him as he sat back in the chair. “Let me explain,” he began.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” she muttered, looking into her coffee cup, “I get it. I was a case, totally makes sense, really. I mean this is what-”

“Y/N!” he interrupted, her eyes snapping to his. “Let me talk for a minute. Yes, we came here for a case. We came here to watch you, we weren’t even going to interact with you if we didn’t need to,” he explained, moving forward in his chair. “I didn’t ask you to dance for the case, I didn’t hold your hand for the case. There is just something…” he moved his hand to gesture between them. “I don’t know what but...something.” A slight smile played on her lips as she raised her shoulders, “Maybe.”

Huffing out a laugh he agreed, “Yeah, maybe.” They just continued to study one another, not saying anything. Each with their own version of “Is there something there? Could they trust the other? Would this life make it impossible?” Including every narrative in between.

Returning to the house, Sam entered the living room with his eyebrows raised “So...what are we doing?” The spell broken, they both looked up at him. “What do we need to do now?” Y/N questioned.

“Well, one of us should stay with you, to keep you safe.” Dean put forward, “I don’t think they will come back tonight, but you can’t be too careful.”

“Oh!” she squeaked, “Um, sure,” Rising from the couch she folded the blanket and began to cautiously walk down the hallway.

“Sweetheart,” Dean called, “where are you going?”

“I’m getting blankets and pillows so you guys can stay.”

Dean whipped around pointing at Sam, “NO!” he rasped, keeping his voice low, “you are NOT staying here! I meant it Sammy! Not…staying!”

Sam looked at Dean raising his eyebrows, a smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks so much Y/N, we really appreciate you letting us both crash here!’

Dean looked Sam in the eye with a pleading yet murderous look. Lips set in a firm line, the eldest Winchester drug his thumb nail across his throat before he pointed at Sam, then at the front door. “GET OUT!” he mouthed. Meeting Dean’s eyes Sam called “Hey Y/N, I was thinking,, do you need any hel-”

Stepping closer to Sam Dean whispered, “I mean it Sammy, I never ask you for anything! Would you just go? I can handle this, just go. Just come back and pick me up for breakfast. No, no, make it lunch.” Dean grinned.

Rolling his eyes, sighing, Sam held out his hand, “Fine, give me the keys.” Digging around in his pockets he pulled out the keys for Baby and handed them to Sam. Just as his fingers wrapped around the keys, Dean jerked them back, shaking them slightly. “Be nice to her Sammy, don’t drive all crazy, you have to be sweet to my girl.” Sam leaned in close to Dean. “I swear Dean, if you don’t give me those damn keys right now, I’m going to sprawl on this floor, spread eagle and I’m not leaving for as long as we are in this town. I will make sure you don’t have one second alone with her.”

Dean shoved the keys in his hand, “Here! Now, remember to pick me up for lunch ok?”

Sam jammed the keys in his pocket and headed out the door just as Dean turned on his heel heading for the hallway. He came to a halt seeing Y/N bent over, half buried in the linen closet, her baggy shorts riding up riding above the curve of her ass. Watching it sway from side to side made his palms itch and his pants tighten.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans as he was agonized to himself, “Damn, look at her ass, there are so many things I want to do-No! No!” he physically shook his head. “She has had a traumatic experience tonight, you want to be nice and calming… Respectable, yeah respectable. Don’t go creeping her out! You are not a creeper man, NOT a creeper!”

She pulled herself out of the closet with an arm full of sheets, blankets and pillows. Hurrying over Dean took them from her arms. “I got it.” he assured her. Walking to the couch he laid them on the end. Taking a sheet from the pile she offers an apology. “I’m really sorry you have to sleep on the couch,” she apologizes as she begins to tuck the sheets into the cushions. “I have another bedroom but it’s filled with stuff, I was thinking of turning it into a dark room but I just haven't gotten that far yet.” Dean was just standing there watching her, hands in pockets, leaning back on his heels when he noticed Y/N had stopped what she was doing. “Wait,” she started, standing up as she looked around, “where’s Sam?”

“Yeah, about that,” Dean rubs his hand across the back of his neck, looking at her. “He decided to go back to the hotel because, um, he didn’t want to sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, well,” Y/N began to look towards her bedroom, “I guess I could have slept on the couch, you guys could have taken my room.” Dean began to shake his head, “Nope, no way. We’re not taking your room. We are here to make sure nothing happens, not take over your bed.” At that her eyes snapped to his, she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks with just the thought of Dean taking over her bed. She started to shake out the blanket. “It seems hot in here, are you hot? Maybe we should turn on the fans, or maybe the air conditioner?” Stepping forward Dean covered her hands with his, “sweetheart, it’s ok, it’s not too hot. Why don’t you sit down on the couch and let me get another bag of peas from the freezer. I think it will help your eye.” She flopped down in the middle of the couch with a sigh. He returned from the kitchen with the frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel, “Here.” He grabbed the pillows and laid them on the left side of the couch, patting them. “Just lay your head down and relax, it will be easier for you to hold the peas to your eye.” Y/N hesitated. “I don’t want to fall asleep just yet, but I’m sure you're tired.”

“No I’m good,” Dean reassured her. “I’ll just sit here,” gesturing to the opposite end of the couch, “I can flip on the TV or we can just talk.”

”Sure, talking sounds nice,” she agreed. He helped her lay her head back on the pillows and positioned the bag of frozen veggies against her eye. “You good?” he questioned. “Mhm,” she hummed comfortably. Dean made his way to the opposite end of the couch, she pulled her feet up to make sure that he had plenty of room. Settling himself down, he unlaced his boots, pulling them off and setting them to the side. Leaning back, he draped his arm over the back of the couch with his refilled tumbler of whiskey in the other hand, swirling slowly. “Tell me a story,” she prompted, nudging his thigh faintly with her foot. “What kind of story?” he questioned.

“Well, I would say a monster story but I think I’ve had enough of that for tonight.”

Dean chucked. “It’s almost morning you know,” she drew in a breath as she began to sit up.

“No, no, lay back down,” he urged, “just keep the ice on your face for a bit.” Nestling back down into the pillows, she listened while Dean told a few stories about his and Sam's adventures. Her toes soon found themselves tucked underneath his leg for warmth. As he continued to spin tales, he dropped his arm from the back of the couch and with a feather light touch, caressed her calf, his touch easily moving from ankle to knee. He watched her face as she listened, a small smile here and there, her battered face serene. The rumble of Dean’s voice eventually lulling her to deep sleep. He rose from the couch carefully, retrieving the peas and throwing them back in the freezer. Returning to the living room, he began removing his button down, laying it across the chair. Watching Y/N sleep, he debated on carrying her to her bed. However, he had noticed earlier that the couch was almost the size of a twin bed when the back cushions were removed. He removed his Colt M1911A1, laying it on the coffee table before he carefully crawled over her and slid behind her. As he snuggled down he was able to lie on his back. Then, just like a moth to a flame, Y/N snuggled into his side, fitting like a missing piece of a puzzle. As he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, her face nestled into his neck as his chin rested on the crown of her head. She snuggled in closer breathing in the smell of him and hummed softly. Dean just lay there, appreciating the feel of her in his arms, and a smile touching his lips as he soon drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 5

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo @compresshischest09 @supernatural-bellawinchester @jensengirl83 @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @ellewritesfix05 @moron225 @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @unicornqu33n17 @swinchester27 @deans-baby-momma @squirrelnotsam @clumsy-nerd104 @sarahbaker2010 @supernatural-love14 @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @angelhearts1012 @nothinbuttrouble2 @cookiechipdough

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean xyou #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x y/n #reader insert #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester series #a man of letters #waywardbeanie

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moonfirerainbow · 5 years ago

Text

Another Reddie hc thing

-also posted on my old blog that is now gone. Also involving Richie’s parents. I am just copy pasting here.

_________________________________

Sorta based on my other post here, which I was really surprised people seemed to like. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Richie attempting to romance Eddie based on his parents, so here are these!

- Richie’s parents are gross. At least, he thinks so. They’re always hugging, kissing, cuddling up together on the couch in the evenings, making yucky eyes at each other- and it’s been that way with them FOREVER.

- “Ewww get a room!!” he’s always told them, since he was like six. SIX. Don’t they get it by now??

- “Or you can go to yours, kiddo!” Went always fires back, laughing when Richie just scoffs and covers his eyes as he runs off to hide in his room.

- Why are grown ups gross?? Richie always wondered, until he was around 13 and started noticing how nice-looking Eddie is. He wanted to be together with Eddie, wanted to spend time with him, make him laugh, get his attention.

- Richie is an idiot.

- But he didn’t know how to do that without being his usual self. He made dick jokes, made fun of Eddie for not knowing certain things, just so Eddie would get mad and touch him. Sure, Eddie punched him in the arm, or the stomach, and that would usually lead to wrestling in Richie’s bedroom, but it was something!

- And he wasn’t really sure why, exactly, he wanted Eddie to touch him, but he knew he wanted to be together with him. Like, the way some of the girls and boys were together.

- “Just ask him,” Bev told him when he mentioned it while they were hiding under the slide on the playground, swapping a cigarette between them. “Ask him to be your boyfriend, or something.”

- “You kidding me, Marsh?! What kind of shit advice is that??”

- Bev just smirked her little knowing smirk and shrugged. “It’s the easiest way, idiot.”

- Nope. That’s some scary shit - Richie needs to do this some other way.

- So he turns to his parents, because of course he’s always noticed how disgustingly in love they are with each other, and how they always hug and kiss, and say stupid, sweet things to each other. In short, his parents are ughh.

- He takes note of how they are together. His dad uses cute nicknames, like “honey” and “sweetheart”, but those seem a little too… yuck. At least, they do for now, because he’s only 13! He doesn’t want to sound OLD. Geeze.

- Then he notices his dad call his mom “cute” several times. He’s in the kitchen in the morning, Richie scarfing down a bowl of cereal before going off to school. His dad ruffles his hair as he walks by, almost knocks his glasses off (”DAD, stop!”) then goes right to his mom where she’s standing at the toaster, getting up real close behind her (yuck!) and saying “Good morning, my cute, cute, CUTE lady” and he even bends down and gives her a series of pecks on her cheek that make her giggle.

- Richie watches his mom swat his dad with a dish towel and call him an idiot, but when his dad steps away to pour himself a cup of coffee she’s a little red in the face, smiling wide. UGH. Why are his parents so GROSS?

- But, hey - his dad’s moves must work, because his mom looks happy.

- So Richie puts the word to use at school that day. He sees Eddie at the lockers, his skinny arms shoving heavy textbooks inside as he struggles to balance his backpack on his knee. Richie rushes over, holds it up for him, and his stomach fills with swoop-y butterflies when Eddie looks up at him with his big, pretty eyes and thanks him with a soft grin.

- JESUS. Richie’s tongue gets all tied up and his face gets all hot. He says the best thing he can come up with. “No problem, Eds! You’re such a cutie, I just had to come rescue you!” WHAT?? What the hell just came out of his mouth??

- Eddie doesn’t seem to mind too much, though he calls Richie a turd and they head off to their first class together.

- Richie keeps paying attention to his parents, takes his notes, gets in the habit of calling Eddie cute or cutie whenever Eddie is looking extra nice. Eddie always gets a little annoyed, but it only serves to prove Richie right because he gets a cute little wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks get a little red and- he just looks so adorable!

- But Richie is a kid at the time, so he doesn’t put too much of an effort forward, and things remain the same for a couple years.

- When they are 16 and Richie still hasn’t gotten anywhere, watching Eddie get more beautiful and more freckly and more TAN and just alskjdkfja HE IS GOING OUT OF HIS MIND HERE - he finally decides he needs to step it up. Because other people are starting to notice how pretty his Eds is, how sweet he is, how nice he smells- and it’s mostly these girls who keep hovering around him, flocking to him like a bee drawn to a beautiful flower and-

- Okay, so he’s starting to get a little jealous, but he can’t help it. He noticed Eddie first!

- He turns to his parents as an example again.

- Went and Maggie are very romantic together, or something. Richie knows his dad brings his mom flowers a couple times a month, knows his mom loves it just by watching her fill a vase with water and place them on the window sill, floating around the house with a smile that almost makes Richie uncomfortable.

- But hey, flowers are something, right? So he snags a few sunflowers on his way home from the yards of his neighbors, gathers them together and waits for Eddie to show up at his window. Richie used to be the one to sneak over there, but things have changed over the past few years as Eddie’s mom has become worse and worse in her controlling ways. Now, Eddie comes over more often than not, crashes in Richie’s bed for the night while Richie takes the floor (much to Eddie’s protest).

- Eddie shows up around six or so, huffing about his stupid mom and her ignorance, and he’s just so mad and a little sad, too, that Richie shoves the flowers at him without thinking of something clever to say.

- Eddie stares at them, speechless. Richie almost panics, thinks that he must have fucked up somehow. What does his dad usually say when he gives them to his mom? Nothing, really. He just gives her a kiss on the lips- which NO, he is not doing that right now, no matter how much the idea makes his stomach flutter-

- But Eddie takes them, red in the face, and the anger bleeds out of him as he touches one of the bright petals. “Are these for… me?”

- All Richie can do is nod, stunned into silence.

- Eddie smiles and takes the flowers and keeps them in his hands as they settle down to play some video games, and Richie decides to count the flowers as a success.

- When they are 17 and Richie still hasn’t made any progress, he overhears his parents planning a date night. It’s something they do often, but now he decides he’s going to pay attention to how this goes down. His dad casually says something like “Wanna go eat at that nice place in Bangor, my love? The one you like? We can make it a date night.”

- Richie’s mom smiles in a way that makes him want to barf as she says, “Sure, honey.”

- “Get a room!” he calls to them around a mouthful of food, laughing when his mom tosses a dish towel at him and tells him to get drying. But he makes plans to ask Eddie to go somewhere with him.

- He picks the place - somewhere not in Derry, or Bangor, because he is not going to risk going to some place where his parents get all gross and googly eyes with each other. He chooses a small place in Old Town, nothing too fancy, something he can pay for with his allowance and the extra money he earned by cleaning out the garage, the attic, and the gutters.

- He waits until they are on their way home from school, walking down toward his house, Eddie’s shoulder bumping into his as he goes on and on about something he and Bill are working on. A car? Richie isn’t sure. He can’t stop staring at Eddie’s bright smile, and his eyes, and the way the sun low in the sky casts a warm glow over his skin, makes his smile stand out even more-

- He blurts it all out without meaning to, “Do you want to have dinner with me on Friday??”

- Eddie is quiet, staring up at Richie with wide eyes, and Richie is freaking out on the inside. Oh no. He screwed up, Eddie is going to say no, or he is going to laugh, and Richie is going to have to go home and rethink this whole thing, or maybe accept that this is never going to happen.

- But Eddie smiles shyly, shrugs his shoulder and says, “Yeah, okay,” and Richie is blown away, because Eddie actually said YES?? TO HIM? TO RICHIE??

- Unreal.

- So Richie asks his mom what he should wear when Friday rolls around, nervous as hell, holding up a couple shirts to himself as she smirks and looks at him knowingly. “I think green is good. Yeah? Or blue? Should I go with blue?”

- Maggie is enjoying the hell out of seeing her son so flustered. “The darker one. It’ll bring out those baby blues, sweetie.” And Richie groans when she gives him a big, wet kiss on his cheek and wraps him up in a suffocating hug, teasing him by scrunching his messy hair in her hands and claiming he needs to chop it all off. “And you know, your dad always pulls my chair out for me, and he opens the car door, and he holds my hand on the way inside-”

- “Oh my god, mom! STOP.”

- “You’re like your dad,” Maggie says, laughing. “Just trying to help.”

- Richie is super nervous.

- Though he would never admit it, he takes his mom’s advice, opens the doors for Eddie, even though he trips over himself a couple times because he gets distracted looking at Eddie. Eddie looks amazing. He’s wearing a black buttoned shirt and his hair looks so soft, so touchable, and he smells so good all Richie wants to do is bury his face against Eddie’s neck and breathe him in.

- Okay, he needs to get a hold of himself.

- They sit across from each other at a table in the corner, the privacy giving Richie the jitters, making his palms sweat when Eddie looks up at him from under his lashes. And wow- he’s always found Eddie’s hazel-y eyes pretty, but right now they are mesmerizing. Burning a hole through his heart as Eddie tells him about the car he’s been fixing up he now has to do on his own, because Bill got bored with the whole thing and ditched the project.

- “He says it’s too hard,” Eddie huffs, annoyed. “It’s not hard at all. It’s just, you know, common sense. Hey, maybe you can help me?”

- Richie agrees without knowing what he’s getting himself into. He’ll tell Eddie anything he wants to hear if he keeps looking at Richie like that.

- Wait- did he just agree to work on a car?

- After dinner Eddie says he wants to go on a walk, so Richie drives them to a park he knows is nearby, and as they set off down a little path through the trees Richie starts to sweat, because he remembers what his mom said about hand holding, and yeah, he wants to hold Eddie’s hand pretty bad. But what if Eddie doesn’t want that?? What if his mom is wrong and he looks like an idiot for doing something so stupid? What if-

- Then he feels Eddie’s fingers slip between his, and just like that, they are holding hands.

- HOLY CRAP. Richie’s heart is beating so fast, his motor mouth won’t stop going as he talks and talks and TALKS about everything, anything, taking digs at the little town and some of their classmates, doing his best to ignore the way his stupid stomach won’t stop swooping because Eddie just gets closer to him, presses up and against his side as they keep walking.

- He’s just about run out of stupid things to say when Eddie stops and turns to face him. “Richie?”

- Richie swallows thickly, and thinks this is it. This is when Eddie tells him he’s not interested. Somehow, they are still holding hands, but this information doesn’t seem to make a difference in Richie’s mind. “…yeah?”

- “This is a date, right?” Eddie asks him, straight to the point, his cheeks going red but his chest is pushed out like he’s determined.

- Richie is an idiot, so he stands there with his mouth gaping and his hands starting to tremble. “Uh, i-if you want, I mean, do you want it-”

- “I want it to be a date.”

- How the hell is Eddie so calm and sure of himself?? Richie almost wants to ask him, because he can feel his face is on fire and he’s getting all anxious and tongue-tied, and Eddie just looks so pretty and his lips look so inviting and SHIT he wants to kiss him so bad.

- Eddie beats him to it. He moves in suddenly, slides his arms around Richie’s waist and pulls him close, until they are pressed so close together (wow wow WOW Eddie feels so warm) , and he rises up on his toes, pauses with only a breath between them, smiling up at Richie as he kisses Richie gently.

- It’s like something clicks in Richie’s brain and he wraps Eddie up in his arms and kisses him back. It’s his first one, so he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but his heart is soaring and his chest and stomach are all fluttery, and Eddie’s lips are so soft, and Richie isn’t sure he’s breathing.

- Richie is in heaven.

- Eddie is the first to pull away, and Richie looks down at him, at his shining eyes and the blush creeping over his cheeks. Eddie smirks, says, “Idiot” and takes Richie by the hand and leads them back the way they came.

- They kiss again when Richie drops Eddie off at home, longer this time, with a little more movement between their lips. And as Richie is driving back home he thinks he understands why his parents are so disgusting all the time, because now all he keeps thinking about is sharing a home with Eddie, kissing him any chance he can get, winding his arms around him and pulling him back against his chest, calling him “sweetheart” and “my love”, bringing him flowers and-

- As he walks in the front door and finds his mom and dad kissing on the couch, he gags and changes his mind.

- “Oh my GOD, get a room!!”

Bonus:

- Eddie comes over the next night for dinner and approaches Maggie in the kitchen, blushing.

- Maggie turns to him with a smile. “So, how dumb is my son, dear? Did he blow your date?”

- Eddie rolls his eyes, huffing irritably. “He’s so clueless. I had to hold his hand first!”

_______________________________

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #went and maggie tozier #my writing

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atths--twice · 4 years ago

Text

Measure of Love

A mysterious card spans the years, until it is opened, and the words inside are tattooed upon a heart.

I posted this last November and God... as I reread it tonight, I remembered why I love it so much. It is so sad and so beautiful. I hope you enjoy the bittersweet ache...

The plain white envelope sat on the desk, a name not written upon it. Scully’s eyes were drawn to it, wondering why it was there and who it was for. It was standard greeting card size, but it was not her birthday, nor was it Mulder’s either. Of course that did not matter, as he very rarely remembered when it was hers and hated to celebrate his own, and so it intrigued her.

She picked it up, and finding it sealed, she knew she could not open it without arousing suspicion, especially if it was not for her. Mulder would tease her mercilessly, feigning shock that she would open something meant for him. Setting it back down, she stepped away from his desk and left the room to meet him for lunch, though her mind continued to wonder.

__________

Lying naked in his bed, his arm wrapped around her waist and his head at her breast as he breathed deeply, she sighed and closed her eyes. These moments with him, as few as they have had, were the ones when she felt whole and complete. Since the first time, it had felt right, exactly as it should have been.

He shifted and sighed in his sleep, pulling her closer, murmuring her name. She smiled, feeling utterly and whole fully loved by him. Not simply as she had been by his kiss, his touch, and the joining of their bodies, but because she always had. Even from the beginning, when it was small and quiet, it was there. Coming together, in more ways than one, had been a natural progression. Slow as it may have been, it was their journey, and she would not have altered a step.

“Sleep, Scully,” he whispered and she smiled again. “Stop thinking so loudly.”

“Not thinking exactly, just…”

“Hmmm,” he answered, turning and pulling her in, limbs tangled and breaths intermingling. She fell silent, breathing in his scent, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest, the way it felt against her cheek. His leg brushed hers and he hummed. “You’re so goddamn soft, Scully. How is it possible for skin to feel like silk?”

She hummed and chuckled, suddenly exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sleep in his arms, to stay in the warm bed forever. “Sleep, Mulder,” she breathed and he laughed quietly. He ran his fingers up and down her back so softly, she could not know for certain if he was truly touching her.

His breathing slowed and his fingers ceased to move. Snuggling in closer, she matched her breaths to his, drowning in the sensory overload of Mulder all around her.

___________________________

The white envelope was on his dining room table, almost as though it was thrown down as an afterthought and with no concern. Standing there without him, the shower running in the bathroom, she was tempted to take it and then open it when she was home alone. She could find another envelope to replace it. Hell, she probably had one amid the drawers of Christmas cards she bought, fully intending to send, but never did.

As she reached to take it, he called her name and she was powerless to ignore it, her hands already reaching to lift her shirt, well his shirt really, over her head to join him in the shower. She dropped it on the floor, her panties following, as she went to surrender herself to his touch once more.

__________

Sobbing, her heart feeling as though it truly might break or had already broken, she could no longer differentiate between the feeling, she lay once more in his bed.

Alone.

It had been days of fruitless searching and hot dry winds. She had been thrown around, left with cuts and bruises, and breaking down in front of her new and unwanted “partner.”

She hated leaving and coming home without him, sure they were close but knowing she had to think of herself and the baby.

His apartment was smelling stale, the air thick and warm, but she did not want to open the windows. Logic no longer prevailed as she thought that the air she was currently gulping in, was the air Mulder had breathed. The last air they had breathed together.

Wrapping herself in the blankets, laying on his pillow, she placed her hand on her still flat stomach, crying softly.

“Mulder… oh Mulder…” she whispered, closing her eyes, feeling cold without his arms around her. “Please, Mulder… please.”

She cried herself to sleep and the next morning she opened the windows, eyes closed, tears on her face, imagining her cries and pleas being pulled from the apartment and reaching his ears.

Wherever he may be.

___________

She stood in his apartment, belly heavy with their child, and shook her head. Months had gone by. Mulder… gone and never coming back, and yet… she could not let go of his apartment. Not when this was his place, where they shared so much, and then… She rubbed her stomach, feeling the baby moving around, and she sighed.

The guys had been over earlier and helped her clean, not wanting it to remain a mess, regardless if Mulder would be back. Byers had continually stopped her from doing too much and even though she had protested, she appreciated his concern. Langly had been efficient and awkward while Frohike’s sad eyes had followed her everywhere.

Walking around the rooms, she could hear Mulder's laugh as she made a joke, see his anger when she would not listen to his theories, and then as she stood in the doorway of his bedroom, she saw them learning to love each other. Physical love expressed where it had previously only been through looks and brief touches.

“Not enough,” she whispered, tears falling down her face. “We didn’t have enough time. So much of it was wasted denying what we both wanted. God, Mulder…” Wiping her eyes, she shook her head and turned around.

She stepped over by the desk and fed the fish, and as she made to leave, an envelope caught her eye and she gasped. It had been months since she had thought of it, the small square object not high on her list of priorities.

Picking it up, she knew she could not open it, not now. What if it was not for her? What if it was for Mulder from some woman she did not know and…? But, what if it was for her and seeing what was inside broke her heart anew?

She set the envelope down, her heart and body heavy, the ache for him so intense she knew it would never abate. Looking around again, she sighed. It was now too clean, and it made her uneasy, needing to get away from the unfamiliar apartment.

As she closed the door, she looked at the room one more time, the dust floating and settling in the late afternoon light. She saw him there, his hands wide as he excitedly explained a theory, a smile on his face.

“Goodbye, Mulder. I’ll be back soon. I… I love you.” Closing the door, she locked it, touching her lips and then the 42. A hand on her belly, she slowly walked down the hall, the echo of his footsteps ringing in her ears.

_______________

“I don’t remember everything that happened to me,” he whispered as he held her, his apartment once again cluttered and smelling of him, his presence larger than life.

Life. Alive.

Her hand moved to his chest, needing to feel his heart beating, despite the fact that she was held within his arms. Her protruding stomach did not allow them to be as close as before, but she did not care.

Thump thump thump.

The steady beat brought tears to her eyes, sure she would never feel it again. Moving her hand up, she grasped the back of his neck, burrowing her nose under his jaw. His face was scratchy, him too tired to shave, and her not caring if he did. She welcomed the feel of it, further tactile proof that he was there, scratchy face and all.

“I know you want to know, Mulder. But I… I don’t care what happened, I just care that you’re here. You’re alive. Mulder… watching you being put into the ground… I… there are not words to express it.” She pulled him as close as she could and he did the same, breathing her name.

“I love you,” she whispered, not caring if he said it back, not needing to hear it, but needing it to be heard.

“Oh Scully, I love you so much,” he whispered and she cried as she felt him doing the same. “I’ve been such an asshole to you when I shouldn’t have been and I’m sorry. I just…” She sniffed and nodded, pulling back to look at him.

“Yes, you were,” she said, and he nodded. “But Jesus Christ, Mulder, look at what you had been through-”

“And you, Scully. Jesus…” He shook his head and she stopped him, holding his head still, her thumb grazing his rough cheek.

“You’re here, Mulder. We’re here. That’s all I need.” He stared at her and nodded. Moving her thumb to his lips, she ran it across them slowly, stopping in the middle. He kissed it, and then her lips, pulling her closer and whispering his love once again.

____________

William was asleep, the apartment quiet. Scully walked into the living room and found Mulder sitting at her desk, shutting the drawer with a sigh.

“Did you need something?” she asked and he shook his head, standing up and turning around. Smiling, he stepped close to her and looked into her eyes.

“No, my needs are met,” he said quietly, reaching for her hands.

“Mulder…” she began, so many things she wanted to say, but he shook his head.

“Not tonight.”

“It’s all we have,” she whispered, very aware of the suitcases sitting in the room, the ones he would take and the ones he would be leaving behind.

“I know,” he whispered with a nod, and those two words held meaning beyond that moment. He squeezed her hands and pulled her close, his arms around her. “I know, Scully.”

Closing her eyes, she relaxed into his embrace.

________

She knew that somewhere in her desk drawer she had stamps, but she could not find them under all the papers inside. The drawers were normally organized and clean, but with Mulder adding some of his own papers and her being tired with William, some things had taken a backseat.

Sighing, she looked once more in the top drawer, taking out the papers within and searching between them for the rogue stamps. Making a pile, she came upon an envelope; a square greeting card sized envelope that had been taped shut. Turning it over, she saw her name written on it in Mulder’s scrawl.

Her heart raced as she realized that this was the card. The card with the previously unnamed envelope that had piqued her curiosity so long ago. Staring at his familiar handwriting, tears filled her eyes. She missed him so much. Sliding her finger carefully under the tape, she lifted the flap and took out the card inside.

It was a card of dark inky blue, golden stars all over it, a giant round yellow moon in the middle, a rocket ship orbiting beside it along with a small yellow heart. Laughing as she cried, she read the words written upon it.

“Love you…” It said at the top. “To the moon…” Inside the moon. “And back…” At the bottom.

“Oh, Mulder.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes.

Opening the card, she saw his handwriting covering every inch of the once blank card. The left side was dated the day before he left and the right was over a year before it. Starting with the right hand side, her vision slightly blurry, she began to read.

Scully

I want to both give this to you privately and while I stand in front of you. I want to see your eyes roll as you read the front, knowing it seems silly and over the top, or over the moon as it were. But I am also aware that beneath the silly words and way I may behave and joke as you read this, there is an underlying truth to what this card says. I do love you, Scully. I have loved you in some capacity since the moment you listened to me and did not run for the hills, never to be seen again. You gave me credibility when others saw nothing but an alien obsessed man, his theories and approach out there among the stars. How could I be considered too crazy if you stuck by my side, my one constant in this world? If I ever do give this to you, I hope I have the nerve to do it standing face-to-face.

Mulder

Setting the card down, she sobbed into her hands, his love washing over her. It was so new then, she could understand his hesitation. But it was also not new, just as he described. He had loved her and she had loved him for so long, yet they denied themselves what they wanted most - to be together.

Wiping her eyes, she picked up the card and took a deep breath, knowing these words would be harder to read and might possibly leave her broken beyond repair.

Scully

I sit here at your desk, listening to you feeding William, your voice soothing his small cries, as I read my own words from what feels like an eternity ago. Much has changed, but not my love for you. Never that. As I packed my things, preparing to start our life together, I found this card that I bought on a whim and decided to write out my thoughts and feelings thinking I was being brave, and yet I never gave it to you. I brought it to the office, brought it home, both places I knew you would be, and yet, my nerve failed me. You were in my bed, in my heart, and yet I could not hand you a card with my words of love written within. What a coward I was, Scully. Such a coward to be afraid of telling you how I feel.

No longer will I be so afraid.

I love you, Scully. To the moon and back and back again. Forever and always.

Mulder

She held the open card to her chest, wishing the ink he used could be absorbed, his love written on her heart, his love pumping in her veins. Pulling it back, she read his words again, touching the words with her fingers, the proof of his love written for eternity.

A cry cut through the silence and she gave a shaky laugh as further proof of his love called for her attention. Wiping her eyes again, she put the card back in the envelope, touched her name written across it, and placed it at the top of the papers in the drawer. Mulder put it there before he left, and there it would stay until he came home and claimed what had been his since the first day she walked into his office.

Her heart.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Love through the seasons #Happy #Sad #Heartbreak #Aching for the one you love #Brokenhearted #Living with the grief #Letter of Love #Cuddling and Snuggling #Afterglow of Love

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outerjjbx · 4 years ago

Text

Jiara July Jubilee

Day 6, 31st July- firsts day

words: 1.8k

JJ thought that asking Kiara out would be the hard part.

It was hard, of course; JJ wasn’t one to get nervous over girls, but he couldn’t help his shaking hands and sweating palms. It was like his body was telling him to bail, to just get out of there before the damage was done. He didn’t, though- he pushed through, and he managed to score a date with the greatest girl he knew.

After the initial excitement that he had a date with Kiara fucking Carrera wore off, JJ realised that he had no idea where to take her. His love life was just random Tourons that he’d take up to the Chateau and forget the name of. He hadn’t even ever been on a proper date, let alone with such a perfect girl. He knew how to make a girl feel good sexually; he knew just what to do with his hands, and just how to move his tongue. Making a girl enjoy herself for a long and non-sexual time was a completely different story.

At first, he considered taking her to the movies or to a nice restaurant. A basic date, like the one he’d seen in movies. Kiara was too special for that, though, and she deserved the best; so he was going to find that. He wanted to plan something that she’d remember forever, something that they both would. The only problem was that he had absolutely no idea where to start.

Figure 8, especially as a Pogue, didn’t have many options. JJ was broke, which was the first issue. He couldn’t plan anything too extravagant, so he’d have to find someway to actuallly make it special. Something fun, but not their usual activities. That crossed our surfing and getting high. He wanted to do something normal, but with a romantic twist that made it memorable.

He was laying in the hammock, Juul in hand, as he mentally planned the perfect date. He sat up so quickly that he nearly fell off when the solution suddenly came to him.

Pope looked up from whatever book he was reading. “Dude, are you good?”

JJ waved his hand. “I’m fine. I’ve gotta go.”

Pope shot him an odd look but shrugged as JJ stumbled away, headed straight for his bike. He didn’t even bother with his helmet -he rarely did, frankly- as he rode to the nearest convenience store. He used whatever money he’d earnt from working at the hotel to buy all the supplies he needed, even getting good brands for the first time. He had just enough money to pay rent by the time he was done, but it was worth it.

Pope was still reading when he came back, but his attention was drawn to his friend as he watched JJ at work. He had heard about the date with Kiara, and he was fine with it. Liking her was short lived- passionate, but still short lived. She was incredible, but if she didn’t feel the same way, Pope knew it was never meant to be. He was happy for the blonde idiot he called his best friend.

“JJ, what are you doing?” he called.

“It has to be perfect!” was all JJ replied with, making Pope chuckle quietly and shake his head.

‘No Pogue on Pogue macking’ had practically been obliterated, and Kiara was okay with that.

She was the one that came up with it, and she planned on living by it, feelings be damned. She thought she wanted someone better; someone that could lead her out of the Outer Banks. But something about JJ, who was as local as they got, made her heart stir in a way she was afraid to admit. He was so scared to ask her out, his voice trembling in ways that reminded Kiara of much worse things, and she knew she had to say yes. She knew she had to finally give in to her emotions instead of pushing them aside and pretending she could ignore them until they went away.

JJ had told her he was going to plan it, so she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. It wasn’t for a while, but the few days since he’d asked her she’d been a nervous wreck. She was going on a date with her best friend, and she had no idea how to act. She didn’t know what to wear or what to do. Was she supposed to treat him like any other date, or was she supposed to treat him like she always did?

By the time the date was only two hours away, Kiara was still questioning everything. She was pacing in her room, narrowly avoiding clothes she had messsily thrown around when decided what to wear. Her hair was still damp from her shower, she hadn’t picked an outfit, and she had no idea what to expect. She was pretty sure she was screwed.

Anna Carrera entered without knocking, as usual. She eyed the state of the room, and of her daughter in the middle. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Kiara sighed. “I have a date and I don’t know what to wear.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “A date?” she began rummaging around in the closet, pulling out clothes. “With who?”

Kiara knew she couldn’t tell her mother the truth. Her parents hated JJ -and any Pogue, for that matter-, but especially him. They knew he’d been arrested, and who his dad was. They knew what every basic Kook did, and Kiara’s attempts to show them the truth failed every time.

“Just a guy from school,” she shrugged. “You don’t know him.”

“Is he picking you up?” Anna asked as she passed a sundress to her daughter.

Kiara took the dress mindlessly. She was meeting JJ at the Chateau, but she couldn’t tell her mom that. “No, I’m picking him up.”

Anna hummed. “Doesn’t he have a car?”

“No, his parents want him to wait until he’s eighteen or something,” Kiara lied.

Anna nodded. “Okay. Be safe, honey. Oh, and wear that dress. You’ll look stunning.”

She left, leaving Kiara to stare down at the sundress in her hands. She wasn’t one to wear dresses, but it was pale red with little sunflowers decorating the tips. She couldn’t even remember buying it, but she had to admit she liked it. After she’d put it on, too, she found that her yellow vans matched perfectly. For the first time since JJ had asked her out, she felt some sense of security and reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

She drove to the Chateau peacefully, soft music playing on the radio. JJ was standing outside when she pulled up, and Kiara grinned at the sight of him. He had obviously borrowed some of John B’s clothes, because he was wearing a blue button up and a pair of khaki shorts. It was the most he’d dressed up since she’d seen him at Midsummers or when he was in his work uniform.

He was chewing on his lip, his hands in his pockets as Kiara walked up to him. His eyes widened a little bit, but he contained himself as he took her appearance in. She couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as they exchanged awakes eye contact.

“You look beautiful,” JJ said, his voice small.

Kiara blushed and looked down, hiding her face. “So do you.”

JJ laughed and waved his hand. “Come on, I’ve got it all set up.”

“And what is that?” Kiara asked as she followed him around the Chateau.

Some of the tension had disappeared, which was a relief. Kiara had spent so long worrying about how she was going to act, but everything she said felt like instinct as she spoke to her friend- or whatever he was to her, since she hadn’t really figured that out.

Kiara felt her heart stop as the HMS Pogue come into view, littered with candles. JJ had somehow managed to fit a small table there, and it had food and wine scattered across it. He couldn’t fit chairs, so there were pillows for them to sit on. It was tied to the dock but floating far away enough that it would feel like it was moving.

“Oh my God,” she uttered.

JJ hopped on board. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Kiara replied, unable to hold back her smile as she climbed in and sat down.

There were bags on the table, and Kiara recognised them as ones from a burger place she’d spend her sixteenth birthday at. It was right after her falling out with Sarah, and she didn’t have many friends, so she just spent the evening there with JJ, Pope and John B. It was one of the best nights of her life.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” she breathed.

“How could I forget?” JJ replied. “Pope spilt his drink and fell over when he tried to clean it up.”

Kiara giggled. “Thank you for all of this. Seriously.”

JJ pulled out two plastic wine glasses and poured them some soda. “Only the best.”

Kiara took the glass. “No alcohol? Who have you become?”

JJ laughed. “Figured I’d shake things up.” he paused, taking a sip of his orange soda. “I’ll be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never been on a date before.”

“What?” Kiara gasped. “Oh my God, really? But you, like, always have girls with you!”

“Well, I always have them at the house,” he replied. “Just random Tourons looking for a causal hookup.”

Kiara hummed. “And I thought I knew everything about you.”

“I’m full of mysteries,” JJ grinned. “What about you? Any secrets?”

“I’m an open book,” Kiara sighed. “Well, not really. But, like, you already know everything about me.”

JJ shrugged. “Are you sure? It can be anything. Your most ridiculous secret.”

Kiara thought for a moment, eating a fry in the time being. “Uh... I had my first kiss with Rafe Cameron.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “Jesus, really? With that creep?”

“He used to just be Sarah’s cute older brother,” she said. “It was kind of gross.”

JJ shook his head in disbelief. “That’s crazy. Rafe!”

“All of my kisses have kind of sucked,” Kiara admitted.

JJ wiggled his eyebrows. “Think I could change that?”

Usually, Kiara would laugh and shove him away. JJ was constantly flirting, and she’d grown used to it. There was something serious in his eyes that time, though, and Kiara was leaning across the table before she had even processed the words or what she was doing.

Kissing JJ felt like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was like literal sparks flew and stars aligned; and Kiara knew she loved him. More than just she thought she did, more than just a friend. She was in love with him, and had been since she’d first met him.

#jiara #jj x kie #jiarajuly #outer banks #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #jj

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star-spangled-eyes · 5 years ago

Text

Dirty Mind: Part 3: Love Hurts

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Some dialogue and events in Book 1 of TRR are property of Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Drake’s perspective

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this miniseries: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, angst, sex (including character’s thoughts and innuendos)

Masterlist

A/N: I wrote this miniseries in the first person perspective of Drake Walker. It follows events in Book 1 of TRR, but not everything is as you’d remember it from the story. Some things have been altered to better fit this fanfic.

I really enjoyed getting into the brain of Drake, and I hope you like it too. He’s a stud, and I love his sexual, angsty mind.

Enjoy the conclusion! Thanks for reading!

Word Count for this chapter: 6144

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr @yukinagato2012 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

The next day I drove my truck to Ramsford earlier than I was scheduled to. Maxwell called me, frantic and desperate for help getting the estate prepped before the rest of court showed up the following day. Apparently their staff took the day off unbeknownst to the Brothers Beaumont, and there was a ton of shit to do.

Normally, I’d say no, but I’d grown closer to Maxwell over the past couple months and felt bad for the guy. Not to mention Bragnae would be there. I was excited to see her, but after I came back down to earth from my pleasured high of being with Bragnae, I realized what we’d done.

I couldn’t shake the doom and gloom feeling I had since this morning. I betrayed my best friend to be with his girl. I lost all sense and control and I shouldn’t have. I should have been stronger than that. I had plenty of opportunities to leave her room last night that I chose to ignore. I was a shitty friend. And worse yet, Liam didn’t even know. The poor guy had no clue I even liked her let alone that we shared an intimate experience last night.

How the fuck am I going to tell him? He’ll hate me forever. We didn’t technically have sex. Maybe he’ll be more forgiving of that. I sighed in disgust at myself. Who am I kidding? We both kissed, grinded and moaned our way to incredible orgasms that we both needed and craved from each other. Goddamn it.

When I arrived at the Beaumont estate, Bertrand told me to help Maxwell in the kitchen, so I headed there. I stepped into the room to see him and Bragnae standing across from each other with a counter in between them as they worked on what I assumed was a caviar appetizer. I’d been to enough of these fancy parties to recognize the pretentious delicacy all the nobles went nuts over.

“I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

“Drake! Oh, thank God!” Maxwell shouted. “Thanks for coming to help out.”

“Hey, Drake,” Bragnae said with a smile.

I gave her a side smirk and a quick nod, not wanting to make a big deal about it in front of Maxwell. I couldn’t trust myself around her now. Even if I smiled in her direction, I’d give myself away. I needed to get my head wrapped around the situation before I was ready to talk about it. No one could know until I talked to Liam.

I felt like an ass because I didn’t want her to feel like I changed my mind about her. Because I still very much cared for her. If given the choice of having Bragnae by my side or a bottle of cold water in a hot desert, I’d choose her every damn time. But, I failed as a best friend, and I needed to make that right despite my own happiness.

Maxwell typed something on his phone quickly before shoving it back in his pocket. “Bertrand said we have caterers for the rest of the food for tomorrow. Whew! Drake, why don’t you help me make the rest of these Jewels of the Sea as I’m calling them, and Bragnae, could you go help Bertrand with the cleaning?”

Dodged a bullet there. Even though I’d love to stand here and look at her, smelling her sweet perfume, it’s probably best she go somewhere else in the house.

“Sure thing!” She walked around the counter, and brushed her hand across my lower back as she left the kitchen. I hesitated, but watched her leave anyway. She had turned back and smiled at me before leaving the room.

I sighed and got back to work while Maxwell jabbered on like a monkey in a tree.

Later, I found myself arranging goddamn flowers in glass vases for the dining room. Me. Arranging flowers. I sighed. How the fuck do I get myself into these situations?

I heard Bertrand telling Bragnae to help me with the center pieces, and my heart skipped a beat. Goddamn it. I already missed her. It had been a few hours since I’d seen her around. Part of me wanted to pull her in close and never let go, but the other part of me wanted to keep my distance. Keeping her near would only hurt more in the long run. Fuck. I hated how complicated this got all of a sudden.

“Hey, Drake. I didn’t know you had a knack for arranging flowers like this.”

I kept my eyes on the vase in front of me as I responded. “Yeah, who knew? The things I do for you people.”

“Seems to me that you have a lot of hidden talents we all aren’t aware of. I wonder what else you can do.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face tilted up to me with a bright smile. I had to look at her otherwise she’d suspect I was ignoring her.

So I did. Goddamn, she was pretty. I scoffed a laugh. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Wait and see? When, idiot? You’re supposed to push her away, not give her little pieces of hope to cling to. I’m so bad at this.

“Well, I can’t wait.” She touched my arm. Her warmth sent a tingle down my spine. My heart beat faster and my breath quickened. All from one little touch. Jesus Christ.

“Lady Bragnae!” Bertrand shouted from across the room.

Startled, she whipped around to face him. “Yes?”

“Come here for a moment, please.”

Bragnae darted off to Bertrand, and I could breathe again. I needed a moment or two to myself. Now was my chance to sneak off. I quietly left the dining room and headed down the hall to the study. I shut the door behind me, and leaned against the wall. No sooner did I close my eyes did I hear the sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.

I sighed. Damn it. I opened the door as the footsteps approached to see Bragnae fill the door frame. She beamed as soon as she saw me.

“Hi! Can I come in?” She was incredibly enthusiastic, and too charming to deny. Shit.

“Of course.” I stepped aside and invited her in the study before closing the door behind her.

“Are you hiding out in here?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, this is perfect because I wanted to talk to you. First things first…” She said before reaching up to kiss me. No matter how much I tried to push her away, as soon as her lips hit mine, I couldn’t turn her down. I was an addict and her kisses were the drug. After a drawn out moment, she pulled back. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Me too.” It was the sad truth I couldn’t deny.

She rested her hands on my chest as she continued. “I decided I’m going to tell Liam that I’m withdrawing from the Social Season.”

“Why?” I kept my hands on her hips because I couldn’t resist not touching her.

“Because I want to be with you, Drake. Last night was amazing. I woke up with a big smile on my face this morning, and it won’t go away. I think about you all the time, and I’m always searching the crowd for your face. I’m so happy when I’m with you. And finding out that you also cared about me was like a dream come true.”

Her words humbled me. But how could she feel so strongly for me when she had Liam? “I’m glad to hear that I make you happy. Last night was… incredible for me as well. But maybe you shouldn’t make this decision now. Liam really likes you. I know he wants to pick you as his bride.” I cringed at the thought.

“I know, Drake. And that’s why I have to tell him before his coronation, so he’s not humiliated in front of the entire court when I decline his proposal.”

She was really set on this, but she wasn’t being practical. “I have nothing to offer you, Bragnae.” I couldn’t help the sadness that fell over my face.

“Drake, believe it or not, I didn’t come here to be queen. Going through all of this made me realize that I’m not really cut out for the job anyway. I’m independent, impatient, and sarcastic. I’m not very diplomatic either. I will always say what’s on my mind, and I don’t want to screw up something big for the country because of who I am. I truly have no interest in it.” She paused. “When Maxwell invited me to Cordonia, I was looking for an adventure to reignite my life. And I said yes because I also wanted to fall in love.”

That word. I drew back slightly, stunned a bit if I was being honest. I swallowed as I focused more intently on her face. “And did you?” I didn’t know what I wanted her answer to be. I cared for her very deeply, but was it love? My feelings for her were more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else. I wasn’t sure it was love, but I knew it was more than a crush.

Love was deep. Love was a commitment. Love was special. I’d never been in love before. It was never something I saw happening for myself even though I hoped to someday. With my life dedicated to Liam, there wasn’t time for relationships. Or maybe I just didn’t care to engage in them. Just one night stands. Sometimes even dragging some of those out to three or four dates if the sex was good.

“I’ll let you know.” She smiled at me. “I have to tell him sometime this weekend while we’re still in Ramsford. I’m sure things will get busy for him once we head back to the palace.” She stood on her toes again, pulling me in for another kiss. “I’ll find you later. I have to go help Bertrand with something.”

Before I could say anything more, Bragnae scurried out of the room leaving me with my thoughts. I walked over to a chair and slumped down into it. This was worse now. She was going to throw away a life of luxury and security just to be with me. I still couldn’t fathom it. Why would she do such a thing?

I’m nobody. Liam was everything.

Of course I wanted to be with her, but it just couldn’t happen. I couldn’t let it happen. Liam deserved to be happy, and he cared about her. Who was I to stand in his way?

My heart ached with a miserable heaviness as I realized what I was going to have to do. If she couldn’t see it, then I’d just have to tell her myself. We couldn’t be together.

Later that evening I found myself on the terrace sipping on some whiskey looking out at the stars over the vineyard. It was a beautiful night. A slight cool breeze came in occasionally, and crickets chirped in the distance. Being outdoors always helped to clear my head.

The conversation I needed to have with Bragnae, however, was taking its toll on me in every way imaginable. It was all I thought about since this afternoon. I dreaded it – the conversation I’d have to have with her and the aftershocks of it all. Having to see her as queen on the arm of my best friend. I didn’t think I’d have the strength for it.

Maybe I’d move away. I’d done it before when I went to college. I could do it again. Once Liam had Bragnae, he wouldn’t need me anymore.

I heard the hinges of the door creak, and my gut told me it was Bragnae. Sure enough, the very same clicks of heels from earlier could be heard as she made her way over to me. I took a deep breath and sat my glass of whiskey down before I turned to her.

“Hey, Bennett.” I couldn’t hide the agony on my face. She picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong, Drake? Are you okay?” She affectionately ran a hand down my arm.

Ugh. I didn’t even deserve that. She would hate me for this. “You can’t tell Liam, Bennett.”

A look of confusion contorted her face. “Why not?”

“You care for Liam, right?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“And he cares for you. You two would be great together.”

Her expression transformed into frustration and anger. “Drake, did you not listen to anything I told you earlier?”

“I did.”

She threw her hands up. “And yet, you’re still pushing me away.”

I sighed and looked to the ground for support. “He needs you.”

Bragnae took a step forward maneuvering her head to lock eyes with me again. “Don’t you need me, too? Don’t you want me? I mean… don’t you want to be with me?”

Yes to all of that – God, yes. I hated doing this to her. The hurt and pain on her face was almost too much to bear. I had to be strong. I had to finish this before I faltered. “Liam needs you more.”

My own words felt like a knife to my heart. I watched her eyes fill with tears, and I wanted to die. I’m doing this to her. I’m such a fucking asshole. “Bragnae, I’m sorry.” I reached out to touch her, but she moved away.

“No! Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t even talk to me anymore. You are such a coward, Drake.” Tears streamed down her face as she turned to go back inside.

I moved quickly in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. “I just don’t want you to make a mistake. You’d be throwing everything away just to be with me. And you deserve the best, Bragnae.”

“No, Drake. I deserve to be happy, and to be happy with who I want to be with. But it’s clear I’ll never have that.” She shrugged out of my hands and ran inside.

Great. That couldn’t have gone worse. I blew out a frustrated breath, and walked over to the table that held my whiskey. I knew I’d need this tonight. I threw back the rest in one gulp. My grip tightened around the glass as I thought about how I just hurt Bragnae, the one woman I ever truly cared about. And now she didn’t even want to me to talk to her.

The sting of tears pricked my own eyes as I looked out across the vineyard. In an attempt to give Liam and Bragnae a happier and more fulfilled life, I gave away all that I had. Not only would I not have the girl of my dreams, but she wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

Angry with myself, I threw the empty glass far into the vineyard, losing sight of it in the night. What the fuck is wrong with me?

A week had gone by since I last spoke with Bragnae. It felt longer. The amount of pain that I carried with me was insurmountable. When the rest of the court showed up in Ramsford the following day, it was clear Bragnae had lost that extra pep in her step. Even as she sat next to Liam, she’d put a smile on when addressing him and the king and queen, but as she turned back to her plate, her face fell.

I tried to approach her, but she walked away from me. I wanted so badly to console her, but I knew my presence was only making her feel worse. So, I honored her wishes and kept my distance. I didn’t try to speak with her, but I couldn’t stay away completely. I had to see her. I had to make sure she was safe. I wanted her to smile like she did before, but every time she did, I could tell it was forced.

Seven days had passed and not one look from her. Not one smile in my direction. Not even a middle finger from her telling me to fuck off. Hell, I’d take that just to know she still acknowledged my existence. Nothing. She had cut me out. I couldn’t blame her. I knew she hated me. I hated me, too.

I just wanted to talk to her again. It was such a shock to go from having her actively in my life every day to having nothing. I missed her. I missed the way she laughed at my sarcastic jokes. I missed the way she never let me get away with anything. I missed her touch.

I would think of the way she kissed me, and let the thought of it whisk me off to sleep at night hoping for pleasant dreams of her. That never worked. Even my subconscious was punishing me for my actions with restless sleep and nightmares of losing Bragnae.

In that time, however, I found solace in the fact that I realized I was in love with her. Having her cut me out like that forced my head out of my ass long enough to recognize how deeply I cared for her. I was happy to know I was capable of falling in love with someone, but I berated myself for figuring it out too late.

Given the chance now, I would never give her up like I did back in Ramsford. She had opened her heart to me that day, and instead of embracing her affections, I stomped on it telling her what I thought she wanted and needed. I was a real dick.

I wish I could change the past or even apologize now to try to win her back, but she wouldn’t even allow me near her without finding some excuse to leave the room. I screwed up big time. And now I have to live with it. I only wish that she would find the happiness she deserves.

I straightened my tie, and looked myself over in the mirror. I put on a suit tonight for Liam’s coronation. It’d been a long time since I wore a suit, but tonight meant something to my best friend, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

I considered not going at all. I wasn’t sure how I could handle seeing Bragnae accept his proposal. She was still in the running for his hand. The press would have announced it if she withdrew her standing. So, that must have meant that she considered being with Liam after all. Good for her.

After everything I’d been through to get to this moment, I decided I had to show up and support Liam no matter how uncomfortable I was.

I made my way to the ballroom. There was still an hour until King Constantine turned the throne over to his son. I dragged out the night as long as I could, but it was time to make my appearance. As I walked down the hallway, a door opened to my right, and a shimmering gold dress got my eye. I turned to see Bragnae standing there frozen in place.

She was a sight to be seen. The golden sparkles in her dress brought out the amber in her eyes, and her silky hair was pulled into an elegant side-do. She looked magnificent.

“Hi, Bragnae,” I said softly. My nerves got the best of my voice, or perhaps I spoke that way out of fear that I’d spook her. I just wanted to spend five minutes with her without her running away.

She stood there staring at me, not saying a word. Her eyes scanned the length of my body undoubtedly surprised to see me in a suit. She pursed her lips together and straightened her posture keeping her walls up for protection. It was understandable, but it hurt that she felt she needed protection from me. But at least she hadn’t run off yet. These 30 seconds had been the longest I’d spent face to face with her since Ramsford. I’d happily take it.

“You look very nice,” I said, trying to break the ice.

Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, but she blew out a ragged breath instead. Her expression left its resolute phase and became one of torment. It was hard to see her like that knowing it was my fault.

I took a small step towards her. “Bragnae, I’m sorry.”

I barely got the words out before she turned on her heel and walked towards the ballroom. My head hung in defeat as I stood in her jilted wake. I should have told her I loved her, but it probably wouldn’t have been received well. I just wanted her to know.

Twenty minutes and a glass of whiskey later, I was hanging out in the corner of the ballroom watching the crowd gather in anticipation of not only seeing a new king crowned, but to find out which of the suitors Liam was going to choose. Madeleine, Olivia and Bragnae were considered the top contenders.

The king and queen obviously favored Madeleine. The press adored both Olivia and Bragnae, but the people seemed to rally more around Bragnae. All of those factors including the recommendation of the Royal Council, and of course, Liam’s favorite were all taken into consideration for who the next queen would be.

I hadn’t seen much of Liam over the past week. He had been extremely busy getting ready for tonight, but when we did have the chance to hang out, he told me Bragnae was the one. At that point, he’d only had Constantine and Regina to convince. Everyone else supported his decision to choose her.

Now, it was just a matter of time. As the clock ran down, the crowd started to form around the stage. I moved closer too, spotting Hana. As I sidled up next to her, I noticed she was crying.

“Hana, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She sniffled and wiped her eyes before turning to me. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I just found out Bragnae’s leaving Cordonia tonight.”

“What? Why? Had she been planning this?”

Hana shook her head. “No, she made the decision just a little bit ago.”

“Does Liam know this?” I scanned the room for Liam, but didn’t see him.

“Yes. She told him after they danced. Now, she’s in her room packing. I’m just so sad she’s leaving, Drake.”

“Fuck.”

Hana winced. “Drake.”

“I’m sorry, Hana,” I said, patting her shoulder. “I have to go find Liam.” Before she could reply, I was working my way through the crowd to find him. I had to get to him fast to explain everything, so I could stop Bragnae before she left. This had to be done right.

I’m sure Liam was crushed, and he had to know I was the reason. I spotted Bastien standing near an entrance to a private room for the royals in the far corner. I ran over to him immediately.

“Bastien, do you know where Liam is? I need to speak with him.”

“He’s taking a moment to himself before the coronation, Drake. It will have to wait.”

I stepped closer to him. “Please, Bastien. It’s important. I wouldn’t bug you if it wasn’t.”

Bastien looked around the room and sighed. “Okay, but make it quick.” He turned to unlock the door behind him to let me in.

“Thanks, Bastien. I owe you.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and made my way inside the private suite.

“Liam?” I called out to him as I navigated through a small hallway.

“Drake? Is that you?”

I turned the corner to see Liam dressed in his royal regalia slouched in a chair at a table with a drink in his hand. He looked depressed as fuck. God, what a mess I’ve made.

“Liam, I need to talk to you.” I pulled out the chair next to him and took a seat.

“I’m not in the mood, Drake.” He took a sip of his drink. Liam favored scotch. I’m sure that’s what filled his glass.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know why you’re upset, and it’s because of me.”

He turned to look at me with a bewildered expression. “What are you talking about?”

“Bragnae withdrew from consideration tonight, right?”

He took another sip. “Yeah, she did. Now, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. I have twenty minutes before I’m crowned fucking king of this country, and the woman I was going to ask to marry me just told me she’s moving back home. I can’t believe it, Drake. I didn’t see this coming.” Liam shook his head, and took another swig of his scotch. After another moment he returned his attention to me. “Why is it your fault?”

My stomach rolled at the thought of hurting my friend. But time was of the essence, and I needed to tell him the truth. “I’m in love with her, Liam.”

He straightened in his chair. “Say again?”

“I’m in love with Bragnae. I’ve had feelings for her for some time, and about a week ago, I found out that she reciprocated those feelings.” I proceeded with caution despite the anger slowly consuming his eyes. “I know this is hard to hear, and I’m sorry that I have to tell you all of this. She wanted to be with me, but I told her she needed to be with you instead. I knew she cared about you, and I knew how much you cared about her. I thought I was making the right decision by insisting that she stay in the running as a suitor.”

“What the fuck, Drake?” Liam said with a raised voice, slamming his glass on the table.

“I know. I’m a monumental prick.”

Liam abruptly stood from the table, and walked a few paces away, keeping his back to me.

“Liam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want this to affect your coronation, but I just found out that she’s planning to leave, so—.”

He whipped around to face me, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Did you kiss her?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t going to lie to him.

Liam glared at me. His breathing became heavy. “Did you fuck her?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but hesitated trying to think of the best way to respond. “Sort of.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He was growing irate by the second.

I sighed. The clock was ticking. I had no idea how fast Bragnae would pack, and I needed to get this conversation over with. “Look, I’m not going to get into those details with you. Let’s just say I’ve never been inside her, and we’ll leave it at that.” God, I hope he accepts that answer. I’m completely at his mercy right now.

He crossed his arms over his chest, still burning holes through me with his piercing blue eyes. “You asshole.”

I dropped my eyes to the table. “I know. I’m the biggest asshole on the planet.” I stood to face him properly. “I know you must hate me right now, and that’s okay. I should have been more honest with you about how I felt about her, but I didn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness. I thought I’d just get over it. I knew you liked her, and I’d do anything for you including push my feelings for her to the side. You’re my brother.” I swallowed in an attempt to clear the lump of emotion forming in my throat.

“I tried to bury my feelings for her. I was prepared to be unhappy for the rest of my life knowing you’d have the girl of your dreams, but then…Bragnae told me how she felt about me, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m in love with her, Liam. And because I pushed her away and told her to be with you, she has since cut me out. She won’t even talk to me.” Tears started to form in my eyes for God’s sake. “And now she’s packing to go back to New York. I need to stop her, and tell her I love her.”

“How are you going to do that if she won’t speak to you?” His demeanor was calmer now. Perhaps because I was showing sappy emotion for the first time since he’d known me made him see this was a serious situation. This gave me hope.

“She can at least listen, right? I’ve gotta try, Liam.” I took a deep breath. “But I can’t do that unless I have your blessing. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s important to me.”

Liam lowered his gaze to the ground, and worked his jaw as he considered my request. He was silent for a long moment before he looked at me again. “She and I never did anything more than kiss. I wanted to, believe me. I even tried to lead her in that direction a couple times, but she always declined.”

That’s… a relief. But why was he telling me this?

“She’s the first girl that’s ever told me no. I told myself she just wanted to wait until she was officially mine, but it wasn’t that at all.” He smirked as he looked me over. “But she was willing to do… whatever it was that you two did together with you, so she must care about you.”

“Liam, I’m so—.”

He held up his hand, taking another moment of contemplative silence. He already had a commanding presence, and he wasn’t even king yet. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never once heard you speak of a woman this way. Nor have I seen you get so emotional over one.” He looked me over and smirked. “Cry baby.”

I grinned at his teasing remark.

He took a step closer to me. “You have my blessing.”

I closed my eyes, blowing out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Liam.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go get your girl.”

“Right.” I spun around to leave the room almost losing my footing.

“And Drake?” Liam called as I was about to round the corner. I turned to face him again. “Good luck.”

A smile transformed my lips. “Thanks. Oh, and I’m really sorry I’m going to have miss your coronation. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yes, you will,” he replied light-heartedly. “Get the hell outta here already, would ya?”

“I’m gone!” And with that, I turned tail and left the royal suite.

I pushed my way through the growing crowds until I made my way out of the ballroom. Thankfully everyone was corralled there, which made the hallways clear. I could run without any interference.

And run I did. And I didn’t stop until I got to Bragnae’s room. Taking only a second to catch my breath, I knocked on her door. And waited. I knocked again. My mind raced through all the possible locations she could be if she wasn’t in her room. I had to have a plan B, C, D… whatever it took. I needed to find her before she left. If I had to stand on the fucking runway itself, I would.

I knocked a third time. “Bragnae? Are you in there? Please open up if you are.” I laid my head against her door. Fuck. Okay. New plan. I’d have check the front of the palace to see if the guards knew if she’d left yet.

As I turned to leave, I was stunned to see Bragnae standing in my path. She had changed out of her gown and into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her hand rested on the extended handle of her suitcase.

“I forgot my phone charger.” It was so good to hear her sweet voice spoken in my direction again.

“Don’t leave, Bragnae. Please.”

She blew out an exasperated breath as she walked toward me – rather, she walked toward her door. I stepped out of her way as she unlocked it and opened the door. This was a good idea. At least we’d have some privacy and I could tell her how I felt. She tried to shut the door on me, but I pushed it open anyway, and followed her in.

I shut the door behind me and stood in front of it. I watched her walk over to her bed side table and pull a charger cord out of the drawer. She shoved it in her purse, and cocked her hip when she saw I was blocking her path.

“What are you doing? I have a flight to catch. Can you please move?” She was annoyed, and tried to hide the emotion in her voice, but I heard it anyway.

“No.” She sighed at my response. “Not until you hear what I have to say.”

She relented, exhaling a deep breath. “Fine. Make it quick.”

“Put your bags down.” She started to protest as I walked towards her, taking the purse off her shoulder and tossing it on the bed. I yanked the suitcase handle out of her grip and rolled it away. “I want your attention on me, not your flight.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest putting up the last piece of armor she had left. “What do you want, Drake?” Her voice shook a little, and definitely lacked the fiery zing it had just a few minutes ago.

I put my hands on the sides of her arms stepping closer to her. She turned her head slightly, but didn’t move out of my touch. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for being an idiot. For denying your affections and making you feel unwanted. And for any pain or hurt I caused you.” I tilted my head to the side to catch her eye. “I was wrong. And every day since then I’ve regretted my words.” Goddamn these emotions! The lump in my throat returned as I continued.

“Not having you in my life over this past week has been torture. I missed your smile, the way you laugh. I wasn’t happy at all because I knew you weren’t. You were right, Bragnae. You do deserve to be happy, and I want you to have that no matter what. If you need to leave Cordonia to be happy again, then I won’t stop you. But you have to know something first.” I took a deep breath, and poured all of my energy and feelings into my words. “I love you, Bragnae Bennett.”

Her mouth fell open as she inhaled a sharp breath. “You do?” She barely squeaked out the two words.

I smiled. “Yeah, I do. I have for some time, but I didn’t realize it until after I’d hurt you. And I’m sorry for that.” I took another step closer, lightly tugging on her arms to loosen them, so I could hold her hands. “Bragnae, you’re an amazing woman. I love everything about you, and I know I can’t live without you in my life. I’m not strong enough. And if you decide to stay in Cordonia, I’ll do whatever I have to do to show you how much I care about you.”

Bragnae took in another breath. “Say it again.”

I paused, giving her a questioning look. “Which part?”

“That you love me.”

I grinned, standing so close to her our chests touched. She had to tilt her head back just to look at me. “Bragnae Bennett, I love you. And I will always love you.”

Her eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you, too, Drake.”

My body filled with goosebumps hearing her reply. I smiled, stroking the side of her face with my finger. “Your love means the world to me. And I will never take it for granted.”

“Good.” She ran her hands up my chest, forming a loop at the base of my neck. “So, kiss me already.”

“Yes, ma’am.” We met in the middle as our lips connected in one of the most wonderful and fulfilling kisses two people could share. As the kiss deepened, I lifted her up and walked over to the bed to sit down with Bragnae in my lap. “This brings back pleasant memories.” I was getting turned on just thinking about it.

She giggled. “And we’ll make plenty more.”

“So, does that mean you’re going to stay in Cordonia?”

Bragnae outlined my jaw with her finger. “There’s no way I’m leaving you.”

“Good answer.” Our lips came together again as we both fell back on the bed getting lost in our love and desire for each other.

#TRR Dirty Mind Fanfic #drake walker #drake x bragnae #trr fanfic #trr drake

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