#job searching does suck and I hope everything goes well for you!!

[cyberstudious]

Hey!!! I saw that u are working in cybersecurity as someone who is looking for jobs in the software/data science industry it'd mean a lot to me if you could refer me to an open role or help out a bit please?

hi! unfortunately I don't know of any open roles other than just what would be on job search websites (it is really a nightmare out there for finding entry-level positions 🙃) but do let me know if there's anything else I could help out with!

I got my job after doing an internship with my current company, and I got the internship by showing up to a recruiting event they had at my college and just talking to people, participating in the little tech challenge they had, and doing a "by the way here's my resume" when I sent in my answers lol. it still amazes me that it worked but here I am haha.

my top tip I guess is to take advantage of any chance you have to talk to an actual human person, whether through recruiting events or finding industry meetups in your area or something else, because that will make the entire process Way Easier than just submitting a million resumes to every open job alongside everyone else who is also submitting a million resumes to every open job.

also you probably know this, but I was chatting with someone else in the industry recently about how his daughter graduated recently & couldn't find a job (in marketing rather than tech, but still kinda the same boat). he wasn't sure if an internship was worth it or not and I told him oh it's absolutely worth it. from what I've seen and from my friends who are job searching right now, it's basically impossible to get a tech job if you haven't done an internship, and some of the internships out there want you to have experience already. it is truly a nightmare tbh, but any way to get experience will help out. certifications are a big thing in cybersecurity and I imagine that data science is similar?

it really is hard out there right now though so I wish you the best of luck! internship application season is getting ready to start (or at least the big companies always hire their summer interns in September/October from what I've seen) so hopefully some good positions will open up :D

(oh and also obligatory "I live in the United States" disclaimer, idk what the state of the industry is anywhere else)

[ivysprophecy]

Am I Okay? Chapter Three

summary: in part twelve rafe mentions a work party and i took that as an invitation to dive into how they interact and think about each other a bit more from rafes perspective!

word count: 1295

a/n: I KNOW I POSTED THIS CHAPTER PREVIOUSLY, it had some mistakes i wanted to fix that i just relaized. also im not saying this is the most accurate portrayal of rafe however its how im using it for the story and i really hope this doesnt suck as much as i think it does! also im so sorry for how long its been since ive written, i shouldve put out a hiatus notice but tbh im not entirely sure im back. well see how it goes lol. thank you for reading!

this shouldnt feel as daunting as it does right now. shes just a friend. its just a dinner party, theres no commitments attached or technicalities to worry over. its just me and her making a boring evening more exciting.

thats all.

i knock on the door and wait patiently for her to answer. i did come a bit early so i wouldnt be surprised if she was still getting ready. she has a tendency to get swept up in the music shes listening to when shes at her vanity.

but as soon as she opens that door and i turn to see her... i suddenly forgot all the convincing i was doing, cause i know after tonight theres gonna be no more hiding just how into her i am. she looks incredible.

it does something to me knowing its the dress i bought her.

"hi," thats all she says and i swear i forgot how to breathe. how does she do this to me?

"hey," my smile widens, "you look... gorgeous. really, you look great."

"cant take all the credit, the dress was all your doing. im just wearing it."

"and you wear it beautifully," just like that, a natural blush replaces the artificial pink on her cheeks "we should get going, are you ready or do you need more time? i can wait."

"i think im ready..." she searches through her purse, going over its contents making sure she has everything. "yep, im ready."

"perfect," i close the door behind her as she walks out, "its a little jarring to see you without your boots."

she chuckles as i open  the car door for her, "i tried to clean up as nice as i could."

"you clean up just fine cowgirl," i cant hide my smile.

the drive to the event was that comfortable kind of quiet. i always let her take aux when we drive together. country music definitely isnt my favorite but she could play a lot worse. besides she throws in the occasional kid cudi or metro boomin for me.

shes thoughtful like that. 

"oh theres valet? how fancy," the valet opens her door for her before i can even get out of the car. i suppose thats his job.

"thats kinda how these things go. theyre a bit much."

"well i think its refreshing being so spoiled. dads done a lot of fancy business but nothing like this. its fun."

taking her hand, i lead her up the stairs into the building, "ill spoil you as much as you want cowgirl. all you have to do is ask."

"youre such a sweet talker city boy. for someone who, supposedly, is a serial bachelor youre an absolute flirt."

"nah, i only flirt with you," i tell her, truthfully. part of me said it to see her all flustered but really there isnt a point in lying about it.

i know everyones got me figured out already, the guys and their girls are better gossipers than the real housewives. not that id know anything about the real housewives. i definitely dont watch that shit. 

"thats exactly what im talking about," shes giggling as we walk into the giant room filled to the brim with investors, partners, staff, clients, a bunch of people i really want to avoid. i was about to lead her over to the bar when we run into someone conveniently.

her father. that i work with. awesome. i knew hed be here, but i thought it might be possible to avoid him.

"cameron! thought i wouldnt be able to catch you tonig- y/n? pumpkin what are you doing here?"

"dad! were in public could you maybe not call me that-"

i let a smile peak through, "pumpkin?" its just too easy to tease her.

"rafe," she sends me a warning, and you know she means business when she uses my ‘government name’ as she likes to call it. i throw my hands up in defense jokingly.

"its good to see you y/l/n," i reach out to shake her dads hand, "i invited her, hoping a friendly face would make the night more barrable. i hope thats alright with you."

"nah its good for her. she needs to get out more. i trust youll take care of her."

"dad!" she raises her tone while keeping a hushed voice, "dont talk about me like im not here. please."

"you kids have fun tonight," her dad wraps an arm around her before pressing a small kiss to her temple before shaking my hand again, "good to see you rafe. take care of my little girl."

i nod with a smile as he walks away, heading over to a table of some other clients i recognize.

"unbelievable! rafe im so sorry that was embarrassing. he doesnt know how to act normal. i shouldnt let him out of the house. i need to put him in a home."

"cowgirl, youre rambling. its fine, i get it. hes a dad its his job to embarrass you a little. besides, pumpkin, i thought it was endearing," theres a smirk on my face as i mention the nickname.

she rolls her eyes leading the way back to the bar like we intended in the first place. leaning against the bar she tells the bartender her order and mine, already knowing id like a whiskey.

how am i not supposed to like this girl so much when she knows me so well? i dont care if we come from two completely different backgrounds. a part of me knows this is the girl for me. if im deserving? thats a different conversation…

taking our drinks off the counter i lead her over to our table for the night, pulling out her seat for her to sit when suddenly i see some investors walking my way.

i knew id have to work a little tonight but it doesnt stop me being disappointed from being pulled away from her. 

the night goes on, i introduce her to a few of the people i know better than others, but i give her the chance to mingle when she wants too. shes so well spoken and holds her own well.

shes mesmerizing.

at one point, i return from the restroom, and when i come back i see that one of the investors sons is making conversation with her. a particularly annoying one at that. hes far too close to her for my liking, touching her arm subtly, desperately trying to make her laugh. but i can see shes only doing it to be polite.

i step up right beside her, my hand naturally falling to the small of her back, innocently of course.

"jared! good to see you man, your dad let you come?"

theres nothing i love to see more than his confidence falter. he needed to be put in his place, what can i say? im just happy i was the one to get to do it.

"something like that. it was good seeing you rafe. nice meeting you...?" he smiled in her direction, asking for one more chance silently, i couldnt contain my laughter.

"have a nice night jared. tell your dad ill see him at mondays meeting," and with that i lead her away in the direction of our table.

"you didnt have to be so rude to him you know?"

"cowgirl, that was hardly rude of me. i was doing him a favor."

she plasters on an offended face, pretending to clutch her pearls, "how dare you, im a catch. hed be so lucky to have me, and so would you."

god, shes such a tease.

believe me gorgeous girl, i know id be so lucky to have you. its all i think about nowadays.

[ masterlist ]

[benjaminalphabet]

i would drop everything if you called me tonight.

even though my bones know better, and so they do not reach for you. there is little communication between the vital parts of me, and my nervous system has not caught up. i still catch myself waiting at the door for you, like a domesticated house cat, well-fed yet at war with instinct. i long for the comfort of home, of a caretaker who knows me, loves me. i know the canaries and blue jays call for me from the treetops but i cannot bring myself to climb them, i wait for you to get home. when the sun goes down i will worry that you have abandoned me, that you are not coming back, that it was all a fantasy - after all, i am a wild animal, and it is my one job to hunt on my own for my means for survival.

lately, i turn the notifications off on my phone like i am some kind of magician in denial. this performance is not for you, although most of them are. this trick is one i play on myself, pretending that it does not matter if you reach for me in this dark. i have blindfolded myself, i am not watching. i only think about the logical things; i have so much work that needs to be done, i have so much that needs preparing for, i am too focused to think about how it aches. don't hesitate to distract me. if you feel the itch, scratch it. i wait for the slip and fall that leads me back to you. much like the audience after the sleight of hand, i cannot move forward. i replay every move in my mind over and over again. i remember the nights we spent playing pretend before you got restless and decided you needed something real. i don't blame you, you ran off in search of something that could sustain you, but i could have lived on the rationed scraps of us forever and never voiced a complaint.

i don't pretend to not understand you. i have lost myself in this blurry fog since you left where nothing feels real. this hunger inside of me is so white hot that i can see easily why you were searching other beds while i was cold, damp, distant. her and i are so similar, everyone always said so. i can see what you were looking for, and the truth is i hope you found it. nothing can bridge this gap between us, and yet nothing sits the same in this hole you used to fill. it has always been there, but you fit it so well i was almost convinced it had been made for you. the whole time, my whole life. i was always just waiting for you. could it be that i loved you for so long that you contorted even my shadows, my pain, and my grief? everything molded around you, the core, the center of gravity, and briefly you held all of me together in your orbit. everything was perfect when the world revolved around you. our glory days are painted neon in my head, you were halcyon, the light in the distance. i remember when every night led me back to your bedroom, even on accident, especially on accident. i'd known you for so long that when we finally stumbled into each other it just felt like a schoolgirl crush and a sleepover. in the dirtiest parts of it, you made me feel so innocent. curtains drawn, stifled sunlight, the sound of the fan and your slow breath on my bare skin, soft silk sheets, and orchestra music playing quietly from your stereo.

they always say to make friends with your lovers before you collapse into them, and it was good advice for me and you, but i cannot stomach it again. three years of building a house, seven minutes in heaven, two days to burn it down. i wonder why the destruction never lasts as long. the heat of the slow burn never rivals the feeling at the end. even now in the rubble and ash, sucking on ice, i would spend eternity falling out of love with you just for the sake of keeping you around. c'mon babe, put your hand in the hat, pull out an old fight and we can go at it one more time, for scarcity's sake. i don't think i ever got enough of you, even though for a moment i had all of you. your uncompromised stare, your undivided attention, your full weight on my hips and stomach, your head on my chest that night on the pullout couch. those brief, sweet moments we found alone haunt me like they're the priceless ghosts of all your dead heroes. Lennon stood in the doorway when you asked me if i was ever honest, begged me to tell you how i felt, told me i was killing you every time i said i was doing just fine; Cobain in the bed that night you held me like no one ever had before, cradling my head, fingers in my hair, when i told you how terrified i was to love you but i just couldn't help it; Warhol helping you pack your bags when you left, his loopholed handwriting giving you an out with the letter you left at my door. i know you're sorry, i'm sorry too.

if i was younger i would hate you, if i had not invested so much into loving you. if i knew less, was more naive, it would be so much easier to move on. if we had known even half the price of losing it, would we still have crashed so hard into love, into hope? someone told me you left your accomplice and they saw you in a bar downtown with someone who almost looked like me. i wonder what you are searching for in these phantoms of mine when you were the one that left me cold on the corner we met. i waste time with easier ghosts who are nothing like you at all, no chance for fooling myself, no risk i might call them by your unspeakable name. we might meet again in one of the usual places, on one of the usual streets but i try not to plan what i'd say. i already feel let down every time there's a full moon in the sky and you don't come running home.

they're lucky, but they don't know it, all those girls you spend your nights with trying to swallow your guilt. maybe that's the answer, why you couldn't stay with her in the end, you're covered in the shame of it all. i can't track your movements, it's like trying to follow the smoke in your breath all the way to the sky. i always get lost, too high up, and too afraid to look down. i make peace with the souvenirs i got from our honeymoon phase, but if i settle my debts then I'll have nothing left of you. so i move forward with this deficit, and all my shortcomings, well, they add up to you. i'll get out of town to get you out of my mind one more time before the summer ends. i'll fall in love somewhere in Albuquerque or Sante Fe. Salt Lake City has never let me down before, and the mountains are rooted in place, even in flames they can't leave me like you did. i've got my eye on a cowboy across the bar and he doesn't look anything like you. he's got two hands on the jukebox, and he's using big words, says he's read all the old poets, and he doesn't really love anything but the moon and the sun. he's got two feet on the ground in a way you never did when tells me he's godless but maybe not thoughtless. he drinks gin and he buys me rum. i say nothing back when he tells me he likes how i'm sweet, and he throws his head back and he just thinks i'm so funny. i can smell the residual heartbreak still on his denim jacket, and all the pieces start clicking into place again. i know how this goes, i know this routine. let's make a bet, babe, i give it three years until i'm telling him across county lines

i would drop everything if you called me tonight.

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Demon Brothers panic-buy MC a last-minute birthday present

Prompt: You drop the fact that your birthday is in a few days, much to the demon brothers’ surprise. They don’t have a gift for you prepared-- panic ensues.

Note: gender neutral; :) i just like seeing them get flustered

--

Lucifer

“Ah, your birthday? Of course I knew. You thought I didn’t?”

He didn’t know-- not until you told him just then a mere DAYS before your birthday

Internally panicking but he will NOT have you know that he missed this rather important detail

Casually asks you in the next few days if you’re free to go out with him because “he wants to spend more time with you--” which he DOES but he has ulterior motives such as hoping you’d point out something you like when you go out so he can gift it to you

Will watch your movement and gestures like a hawk trying to gauge what sort of present you would want from him

Money isn’t really a concern of him; he just wants to make sure that his gift is something you actually want and is thoughtful enough

If he’s unlucky and you are in fact NOT free in the few days leading up to your birthday, he paces a lot in his room, trying to remember if there was something you mentioned from a past conversation because he has too much pride asking you what you would want for your birthday

...but eventually caves in and asks his other brothers (probably Asmo or Beel) what they think you would like because his love for you >>> his pride

He has seared your birthdate into his mind now because he’d rather not have a repeat of whatever happened this year

--

Mammon

“Your birthday? Hahaha of COURSE I knew your birthday was in a few days… IN A FEW DAYS--?!”

He blurts this out but you tell him it’s fine but he won’t have it

He’ll try to cover it up, pretending he knew, but he sucks at lying and the fact he suspiciously walks out of your room to find a quick job listing to get enough money for a present is telling enough

First ideas most likely include rummaging in his room for anything valuable or shiny that you could possibly want

Considers giving you his car for a second in his panic but realizes you’d probably freak out at the extremely extravagant present

Will definitely try to snoop in his brothers’ rooms in search of things and collectively tells them (and makes them panic) about your birthday as well

Eventually sucks it up and works at Hell’s Kitchen, literally diving underneath counters and tables to avoid having you see him working

Terrible at making excuses to you about where he is so you probably know he’s working, and he feels bad that he has to avoid hanging out with you-- but he loves you and this is for you, after all, so he bears it

Buys you something he finds value in and thinks would like nice if you wore it; after all, the Avatar of Greed wants the best he can afford for you

--

Leviathan

You tell him your birthday is coming up soon while he’s playing something and the only thing he says first is “oh nice”

Then he realizes

“YOUR BIRTHDAY IS WHEN??”

He died on the screen, which you point out, but his eyes are wide and a little pleading

Asks you directly what you want for your birthday and he will literally search it up for you on Akuzon right there and then (it’s wild seeing online shopping on several screens)

“How about this one? Wait, no-- that’s terrible quality and the reviews are horrible; let’s check out this one.”

Makes you tell him everything you could have possibly wanted in the past few months so he can compile a list of things he can search up and select from

If he’s manic for the next few days, know that he hasn’t been gaming (has not since you dropped this very important detail) but has been vigorously searching up all the online shopping sites he can find to get the things you wanted down to its detail and quality

Definitely enlists his online friends for recommendations, but regardless will buy you matching gaming headset on top of whatever you wanted because he wants you to know you’re his Player 2, even if you don’t game

All the presents come on the same day (Mammon grumbles that it’s blocking the walkway) and he shoos you away as he carts everything up to his room to wrap it

Wishes he had more time to make you a present instead of buying something but hey there’s always next year

--

Satan

“O-Oh. Your birthday is in a few days, huh?”

Satan stares at you for a few moments too long as if he wants to say something but decides against it and gives you a benign conversation starter like “You must be excited for another year done”

Inwardly, he’s trying to calculate in his head when he has time to research for things you want, if going on a cat cafe date is too indulgent to be a gift to you, if he should just ask you what you want for a present-- all while holding a conversation with you

Not a great conversation, mind you-- you can tell he’s a little preoccupied, but you’re more worried about how his sentences trail than anything

Pops up randomly in the next few days in your room just to chat, looks around your room, and then leaves again (like a cat)

He’s trying to find a present that you’d want to use-- something practical-- but also something you’d also enjoy having (he’s setting up high standards, but he wants his gift to be good enough for you)

Low-key stressing a lot over this that he’s a little distracted at all times

Ends up combining all his gift ideas by setting up a date for you to spend some quality time with him AND buy your gift when the two of you are together AND has a gift ready for you just in case nothing catches your fancy on your date (he is anything if not prepared for all scenarios)

The gift he gets you is something he’d think you’d enjoy or reminded him of you (and hopes for the best)

--

Asmodeus

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?”

Asmo is almost offended that you didn’t tell him about your birthday-- how is he supposed to set up a extravagant birth week celebration if your birthday is in a few days?

But no matter-- he’s not that discouraged and is determined to rock your socks off with a present anyways, even though he would have definitely had your birthday celebration as a tag for the entire month if he had the time (now it’s only a week-long trending tag, but he’ll make do)

Will definitely coyly offer up himself as a present (and if you say yes, he will be at your mercy) but thinks he has more creativity that than to make you special day great

Takes you on a shopping spree where he dresses you up in the fanciest of clothes and things that you have always adored and refuses to let up until you let him buy you a gift

On the day of your birthday, he offers up his room as an entire spa day-- pedicure, manicure, whatever-cure you would ever want! Massage, face mask, bubble bath-- if there’s anything that can let him show how much he appreciates you, then tell him! He is at your mercy today!

Takes you out on a spin in town, buying you drinks and dancing with you at clubs if that’s what you want; but the night is yours, hun!

Beelzebub

You tell him when he’s eating something and his face morphs from surprised, delight, to sadness

“I… didn’t get you a present yet…”

You reassure him that it’s completely okay, but you know your words aren’t working because he still has that forlorn expression that reminds you of a kicked puppy

Asks you directly what you would want and if you tell him he’d be more than happy to get whatever it is you requested, even if it’s a physical gift or if you want to spend the entire day with him

It is your birthday and he already feels bad for not being able to really prepare for it properly, so he’ll do anything he can to make you happy

If you don’t tell him what you want, you better be strong enough to resist looking into his eyes to not cave into just telling what you want

Eventually settles on giving you something thoughtful and quickly hand-made-- like a set of coupons that say things such as ‘I will do your chores for a week’ or ‘I will make you dinner’

The coupon book has a lot of food-related things than anything, but you know his love language is basically food-- he loves you lots, okay?

Other than that, he’s super indulgent to you on your birthday. You want a lift? No problem. You want him to carry you bridal style to school? Sure, he can’t see why not!

--

Belphegor

“Wait, seriously? You waited until NOW to let me know?”

Kind of annoyed about the fact you dropped this detail on him now and decides to immediately punish you by trapping you in his embrace in a forced snuggle even while you laugh (so honestly, you have no regrets)

Tells you he’s not getting you a present

He’s getting you a present though, regardless of what he says, but now he has the element of surprise on his side (assuming you believe that he’s not getting you something)

Hangs out with you per usual in the next few days, paying more attention to what you would want in a present and asking low-key questions about possible gift ideas-- he’s real sneaky about it, so you honestly won’t pick up on it at all

Goes out of his way to help you study and help you out because it is your birthday, after all, and he’s pretending like he didn’t get you a present

Probably casually drops off a gift at your desk on your birthday, and if you’re surprised, he’s a little smug-- but if you’re not, he’ll be a little embarrassed but will tell you to just ‘open the present already’

Gift is most likely to be something that he’s noticed that you have continually needed but never had the thought or time to get-- just to make your life a little easier

Tells you to go nap with him as compensation for the work he’s done trying to think up of a gift for you

[jungwonenthusiast]

Friends Don't Lie Ch. 1

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Warnings for this chapter: underage drinking and smoking, mention of porn

Chapter word count: 2k

Based on: Stranger Things

Sunoo

“Can we play please?” Sunoo pleads, tugging at Sunghoon's sleeve.

“No, you’re not a baby.” he rolls his eyes.

“Who said d and d was for babies?” Sunoo scoffs and plops onto the couch.

“Everyone,” Jay says while trying on one of Jungwon’s jackets. “Even Niki doesn’t play anymore.”

Sunoo groans. “You guys are boring.”

“I’ll play with you.” Jake ruffles his hair.

“We need at least four people.” he whines.

“You guys play, we’re gonna go to the drive-in.” Niki says.

“And do what? Makeout with people and get gonorrhea?”

“That’s not how STDs work, dumbass.” Jay laughs.

“Whatever,” Sunoo rolls his eyes again.

“It’ll be fun man, just come with us.” Jungwon grabs at his arm. “Plus you like scary movies.”

“It’s Videorome, isn’t that movie about porn?” Sunoo frowns.

“Just come,” Jungwon begs. “I’m gonna be the only one without a chick, you have to keep me company.”

“I’m just gonna go home, Heeseung hyung will be mad if I stay out.” Sunoo stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“You gonna bike home?” Jake asks while spritzing cologne on his neck.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Sunoo says while making his way up the basement stairs.

“See you.”

“Bye Ddeonu.” Jay teases.

Sunoo walks by Mrs. Yang who’s cleaning up the kitchen.

“Bye Mrs. Yang, thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” he smiles at her.

“Of course Sunoo-shi, are you going home now? I thought you boys were going to the drive in?”

He shrugs. “Yeah but I figured I should go home so that my hyung doesn’t worry.”

She smiles and pats his head. “Such a sweet boy, tell him I said hi alright?”

He nods and heads out the door.

It’s pitch black out and the air feels dry.

Sunoo mounts his bike and starts to peddle home, but something moving in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jungwon

Jungwon feels bad. He hates feeling this way. It’s eating at his conscience.

“Why are you guys so mean to Sunoo?” Jungwon says while steering his Camaro.

“What are you talking about?” Jay lights a cigarette and Jungwon slaps it out of his hand.

“Don’t smoke in here, my mom will kill me.” he scolds.

Jay rolls his eyes and throws it out the window.

“It’s just our way of showing affection.” Sunghoon says with Niki sitting on his lap. The car doesn’t have nearly enough seats to fit all of them, but they make it work.

“You need help if you think that’s what affection is.” Jungwon grumbles.

Jake shakes his shoulder. “Loosen up Jungwon, he knows we love him.”

“I hope.” he replies.

Jungwon always wishes he could be nicer to Sunoo. Everytime he sees him he thinks, I should compliment Sunoo or tell him that I appreciate him. But he never does and he hates himself for it.

Jungwon parks in their usual spot.

“I’m gonna go try to con us some beers.” Jay says before hopping out the car.

“Don’t get arrested.” Sunghoon jokes.

Jake rolls down the window to chat with the girls next to them.

Jungwon slumps into his seat. Something feels wrong. They go to the drive in all the time, but something feels off. Everything feels, sounds, and smells the same. But there’s a tinge of pain in Jungwon’s heart. Maybe Jay’s cigs are starting to get to me, he thinks, but he knows that he’s lying to himself.

“Can you just go to her car?” Sunghoon groans. “We exist too you know?”

“Fine,” Jake opens to car door and merrily makes his way to her Ford.

Jay comes jogging up to the car with two cans of beer in each hand. “I am incredible.”

“Indeed you are.” Sunghoon reaches out for one. Niki does too but Jay pulls his hand away.

“No way man.” Jay chuckles and Niki groans.

“I’m literally taller than you.”

“And I weigh more,” Jay says. “No beer until you’re seventeen.”

Jay hands Jungwon a can and he reluctantly cracks it open. He never liked beer but he figured he needed it today.

He lets the bitter substance go down his throat. He holds his breath before swallowing so that he can’t taste it.

Jungwon watches the movie in a daze. The alcohol has gone to his head and everything feels calmer despite the gore being displayed on the screen.

“Shit, it’s eleven thirty.” Jake says. “I’ll drive us home, you’re all too drunk.”

“I can drive.” Jungwon insists.

“No you can’t.” Jake pulls him up by the arms and guides him to the backseat.

Jungwon rests his head on his hand as Jake drops everyone off.

“Alright get up Won, we’re here.” Jake parks the Camaro in the driveway.

“I’m tired.” Jungwon whines and gets up sluggishly.

“You’re such a lightweight.” Jake chuckles and helps him to the door. “Get to your room before your parents see you.”

“Roger that.” Jungwon mumbles and tries to sober up before heading through the door.

The stairs moan underneath his feet as he quietly climbs them. He can hear Jooyoung chatting on the phone as he walks to his room.

He changes into pajamas and heads to the bathroom. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are half open.

“Damn, I am a lightweight.” he says while observing his face in the mirror.

He splashes water on his face and rakes his hands through his hair.

The bathroom light flickers. He furrows his brow.

“I thought dad fixed that last week.”

He washes up quietly and knocks on Jooyoung’s door.

“What?” she calls out.

He creaks the door open. “Don’t be on the phone for too long noona, mom will get mad.”

She rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to know, don’t be a snitch.”

“I never am.” he sighs and closes the door.

He climbs into bed and turns to look at the photo on his nightstand. It’s him and the gang at seventh grade graduation.

Jay is smiling big and towering over the rest of them. He was always the tallest among them and Jungwon was dead jealous.

Jake’s arm is slung around Jungwon and Jungwon’s arm is around little Sunoo. Sunoo’s smile is bright and cute. His suit jacket is too big for him, he probably borrowed it from Heeseung.

Jungwon still remembers the day he and Sunoo met. It was the first day of kindergarten. Sunoo was alone on the swing set, staring at his feet. Jungwon had a few friends that he met in preschool but he wondered what the harm was to have one more. He asked Sunoo if he wanted to be friends. It was the best decision he ever made.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Breakfast!” Jungwon’s mom calls out as he pulls on a striped polo.

He skips down the stairs and sits down at the dining table.

“Have you seen Sunoo? Heeseung called this morning.” Mrs. Yang says while handing him a plate of waffles, bacon, and eggs.

“No, I thought he biked home.” Jungwon cocks a brow while pouring syrup over all of his food.

“That’s disgusting.” Jooyoung remarks while taking a seat next to him.

“Your face is disgusting.” he jeers.

“Well make sure he’s at school today okay? Heeseung sounded really worried.” Mrs. Yang sits down next to her husband.

“Does he think he got kidnapped or something? As if anyone would want him.” Jooyoung snickers.

“Fuck off, that’s not funny.” Jungwon says.

“Language.” Mr. Yang says sternly.

“She’s being an ass.” Jungwon rolls his eyes.

“What did you just call me?” Jooyoung’s head snaps towards him.

“Whatever.” he dismisses her.

She shoves his shoulder. “No, say it again.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Mrs. Yang yells. “Can we not have one peaceful breakfast?”

“I can, I don’t know about her though.” Jungwon grumbles.

“I’ll kill you.” Jooyoung grits her teeth.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Jungwon replies.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sunoo’s not at school.

“Do you think he’s sick or something?” Jake wonders.

“That doesn’t make sense though, his mom said he never came home last night.” Jungwon chews on his pencil.

“Maybe he went to someone’s house.” Jay suggests and Jungwon gives him a look.

“Who’s house would he have gone to? We’re his only friends.”

Jay shrugs. “Maybe he has a secret lover.” Sunghoon chuckles.

“Why aren’t you guys taking this seriously? Something could have happened.” Jungwon crosses his arms.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Nothing bad ever happens in this shit town anyway.” Jake says right as Mr. Jones walks into the classroom.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jungwons heart drops further and further into his stomach as the day goes on with no sign of Sunoo.

The boys are playing basketball during p.e when Principal Coleman and a policeman walk into the gym.

“I wonder who’s weed they found.” Jay jokes but his smile diminishes as the two men approach them.

“Gentlemen we need to speak to you,” Principal Coleman says, “outside that is.”

They all give each other nervous looks but follow suit. Jungwon can feel eyes on his back as he makes his way out of the door.

“Do you know what route Sunoo takes to get home?” the chief says. He towers over them and his biceps look the same width as Jungwon's thighs.

“Yeah, he takes Mirkwood.” Jungwon replies quickly.

“Don’t fucking call it that anymore.” Jay rolls his eyes.

“What the hell is Mirkwood?” the man says and crosses his arms. “Stop messing around, this is serious.”

“It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Jake says.

“Why do you call it Mirkwood?” the cop says, unimpressed.

“It’s from The Hobbit.” Jungwon says and Jay shoves his shoulder.

“What? I’m just telling the truth.” Jungwon exclaims.

“So what happened to Sunoo?” Sunghoon says plainly. “Where is he?”

“We’re not sure, he’s probably at his Dad’s-”

“Why would he go there, his dad’s a cock.” Jay argues.

“His dad sucks.” Sunghoon says under his breath.

“Enough, let me do my job alright?” the cop says, exasperated.

“We can help look for him, we know all the places he likes to go.” Jungwon says with hopeful eyes and Niki nods.

“Yeah, we can help.” Jake says.

“No,” the cop shakes his head. “After school you are all to go home, and if I see any of you searching around, I’ll have you in shackles. Is that clear?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We have to.”

“What if we get caught?”

“Then we run.” Jay says while packing a backpack of supplies.

“You think we can out run him?” Jungwon gets up and pulls a jacket on.

“Of course we can, that dude was huge.” Niki says while chugging down a Coke.

“Don’t drink that,” Sunghoon tsks. “You’ll have to pee.”

“I’ll just piss in the woods.” Niki rebuttals.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The sun had set an hour ago and the stars were twinkling bright.

“Where are you boys going?” Mrs. Yang asks while watching tv on the couch.

“Party.” Jungwon says quickly.

“With backpacks?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uhm, yeah.” Jungwon nods and she giggles.

“You’re not a good liar Jungwon-ah. Have fun, don’t be stupid out there.” she says and they happily head out the door.

Jungwon drives to Mirkwood with his headlights off. He couldn’t risk getting caught, that cop scared the shit of him.

“There’s a barricade.” Jake says quietly.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon says while getting out of the car, pulling his flashlight out of his backpack. “Shit, it’s raining.” Jay wipes a raindrop off of his cheek.

Jungwon takes his flashlight out and pulls his hood over his head.

They hop over the blockade and venture into the dense woods.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It’s pouring at this point and their hoods are only making things worse.

They can’t even hear their footsteps over the sound of crashing rain.

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Jake asks.

“Anything, his bike, his jacket, him.” Jay says.

Jungwon was starting to regret this decision. They’ve been walking for what seemed like hours with no clue of Sunoo.

“Maybe we should turn back,” Jungwon says. “This isn’t working.”

“No,” Jay says. “We need to keep looking, cops miss shit all the time.”

“Hold on hold on,” Jake stops in his tracks.

“What?” everyone asks.

“Shut up, do you hear that?” he says and they all try to open their ears. There’s rustling coming from ahead. Something is coming towards them.

“Fuck.” Jungwon whispers and grabs onto Jay's arm.

They all lift their flashlights to find a human in nothing but an oversized yellow shirt, breathing heavily and squinting from the lights blinding their eyes.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Hiii!! I really love your tumblr posts and I'm pretty new to the Batfam (meaning I have only read fics and textposts about them, no comics) and I wanted to ask about the year Bruce/Batman gets "lost in time". I know general things of what the kids have been doing–Dick became batman and fired Tim from robin, giving it to Damian, everyone thinking Tim was crazy for believing Bruce was alive, (don't really know what Jason was up to though, was he still murderous towards Tim? Does the pit still affect him? Also I have no idea about Cass and Duke, were they introduced at this point??) Anyways, my real question was why was Bruce lost in time, what villain put him there? And how did he get out? And how long was he "dead"? Was Bruce in another reality or like just asleep the whole time? Oh! And how soon did this happen after Damian got introduced to the family–a couple months?

I'm so sorry this is so long, but I hope you answer and thank you!!

(I’m going to try and cover all my bases here by going into how exactly Bruce “died,” what went down during the Battle For the Cowl, what the Batkids did while Bruce was gone, and how Bruce came back. Hopefully it all makes sense?? We’ll see how it goes lmao.)

Part 1 - What Happened to Bruce:

So there was this event called Final Crisis (which I won’t go completely into since it would make this post a million times longer than it already is), but the bottom line is that Darkseid wants to overthrow reality and release his Anti-Life Equation, which would overthrow the whole planet and turn everyone into slaves. (If you’re interested in knowing more about the storyline, here’s a Reddit thread that explains it WAY better than I could.) 

What I CAN tell you is that during his final confrontation with Darkseid, Bruce is hit by an Omega Beam and turned into a burnt chicken nugget killed. Poor guy.

Final Crisis #6

Clark and Diana bring the body back to the Batcave and break the news to the Batfamily. Batman #687 covers a good portion of the aftermath such as Bruce’s funeral, the Batfamily grieving, and Dick coming to terms with his new responsibility of becoming Batman.

Batman #687

Part 2 - Battle For the Cowl: 

Musical chairs time, fellas! After word gets out that Batman is gone, Gotham erupts into chaos. Dick doesn’t want to take over the mantle, Tim needs Dick to take over the mantle, and Jason says “fuck it” and takes over the mantle himself because somebody around here has to. He becomes this murderous psychopathic Batman and starts taking out criminals with deadly force because someone’s gotta do the job, so it might as well be him.

Batman: Battle For the Cowl #1

(Okay honestly, this series had some pretty bad characterization overall, which sucks since it’s such an important storyline. Jason is portrayed as this violent psychopath, which...okay, he was kind of insane after the Pit and all, but not to this degree. Personally, I choose to owe the bad characterization to Bruce’s death because as much as Jason resents Bruce for all he’s done, he does still love him and losing him would be devastating, which would exacerbate his already fragile mental health. As for Damian, this happens roughly three years after his first appearance, so we can assume it’s been a few months since he first joined the family. He’s still relatively new at this point, so nobody knows how to write him yet. He ends up being depicted as if his main two personality traits are Bratty and Assassin-Child and that’s it. It’s all just a mess.)

Anyway, Tim tells Dick to become Batman and stop Jason’s reign of terror. Dick says no, so Tim follows Jason’s lead by saying “fuck it” and putting on the cowl himself. He goes to confront Jason, which ends in Jason beating the crap out of him (again) and leaving him for dead after Tim declines his offer to become Jason’s Robin. Dick goes to save Tim and ends up fighting Jason. 

Battle For the Cowl #3

Dick wins, Jason disappears, Tim is fine, and Dick finally gets his head out of his ass and becomes Batman. 

Part 3 - What Happens to Each Batkid While Bruce is “Dead”?:

Dick: 

As I said, Dick becomes the new Batman a month after Bruce’s death. He’s got big shoes to fill, and it takes some time for him to get used to his new role. He and Damian end up flipping around the classic Batman and Robin dynamic, with Batman now as the fun counterpart to Robin’s edginess. Dick, Damian, and Alfred relocate to the penthouse above the Wayne Foundation building, operating out of a secret Bat-Bunker in the basement.

Batman #688

Jason: 

After Battle For the Cowl, Jason is still batshit insane and determined to make Dick’s already stressful life even harder by becoming a supervillain with an ugly costume and an even uglier hairstyle. (I know it’s just because the artist sucked, but still. Jason is horrifying to look at during this time.) He mostly just gets on Dick’s nerves by running around Gotham with his new sidekick Scarlet and killing criminals as Batman and Robin wannabes. Eventually, Dick has Jason committed to Arkham Asylum and he hangs out there until Bruce returns.

Batman and Robin (2009) #5

Tim: 

Tim...doesn’t do great after Bruce’s death, mentally. Dick makes Damian Robin, his reasoning being that Robin is more of a sidekick and he sees Tim as his equal. By making Damian Robin, Dick hopes that it will give him the stability he needs to keep him from straying back toward the “bad” side. (It’s the right move ultimately, although his execution was pretty messed up since he didn’t discuss it with Tim beforehand, but he’s allowed to make mistakes. Dick’s father just died and now he’s in charge of picking up the pieces of their broken family. It’s a lot to handle.) 

Long story short, Tim has a breakdown, realizes that Bruce is alive, dons the Red Robin identity, and cuts ties with his family to travel the world in search of proof. It’s a rough time. 

Red Robin #1

Damian: 

Our little guy becomes Robin! So proud of him! As I explained earlier, Dick makes Damian his Robin with the assumption that it will keep him out of trouble, and he’s right on that account. He mentors Damian, teaching him how to channel his violent instincts into something productive, and it works! Slowly but surely, Damian makes the transition from bratty assassin to actual hero!

Batman and Robin (2009) #22

Cass:

Duke sadly was not introduced at this point in time, so he missed out on all the pandemonium. Cass, however, has been Batgirl for years by now, but she got kind of pushed aside by the writers after Bruce’s death. Bruce disappears shortly after adopting Cass, but once he was “dead,” the writers sort of moved Cass around for a while, not quite knowing what to do with her. First she was with the Outsiders. Then they got disbanded and Cass tried forming a new network of heroes to take over for Batman if needed. Then she helped out in said network during Battle for the Cowl, taking care of a newly ravaged Gotham. Then Cass gave the Batgirl mantle to Stephanie Brown after she became disillusioned with the role, thanks to the loss of her father and mentor. Then Cass picked up and moved to Hong Kong to “follow Bruce’s plans” by continuing whatever work he had set up for her there. It was all very vague and confusing, and Cass more or less got swept under the rug during this time. Thanks, writers.

Batgirl (2009) #1

Part 4 - How Bruce Came Back: 

When the Blackest Night storyline happens, the Justice League realizes that the corpse buried under Bruce’s grave is apparently not the real one and that he’s actually alive out there somewhere! How wild is that! This is further proven by Dick after he places Bruce’s body in a Lazarus Pit to revive, which has the same result because it’s very clearly Not Bruce and they should have listened to Tim from the start.

Batman and Robin (2009) #9

Anyway, what actually happened is that the Omega Beams that Darkseid shot at Bruce didn’t kill him, but rather blasted him back through time to the prehistoric era with his memories wiped. The Omega Energy inside of Bruce ends up catapulting him through various time periods, which is all part of Darkseid’s plan. With each time-hop, Bruce builds up more Omega Energy in his body which, when he gets back to his original time period, will be unleashed and destroy everything.

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #5

It’s been a little under two years since Final Crisis, though in-universe it’s uncertain exactly how long Bruce has been “dead.” We can assume it’s been a year, give or take. The way he comes back is too scientific and complicated for me to understand, so uhhhh the bottom line is that Tim and a few Leaguers save Bruce at the Vanishing Point and the day is saved! Hooray! 

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #6

(If you want to read about how it actually goes down, then I seriously recommend reading Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. It’s only six issues, so it’s a quick read and it explains the situation far better than I ever could.)

Bruce eventually reunites with his family after spying on them for a period of time as Insider to see what has changed in his absence:

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home

After that, things quickly settle back into their new normal. Dick and Damian stay on as Batman and Robin. Bruce goes back to being Batman as well, with him handling Batman Incorporated business and Dick continuing as Gotham’s defender. Tim keeps the Red Robin outfit, Steph stays on as Batgirl, and Cass becomes Black Bat. Jason stays in Arkham for a while before filing an appeal to be moved to a regular prison. He kills 82 inmates in less than a week and gets transferred back to Arkham, which he promptly escapes from. It’s a ride, I tell ya.

Aaaaand that’s about it! I hope this answered all of your questions!

[captain-mcdavid]

alternate ending - pt.1

it’s been two years... josh and y/n have moved on and started new lives. but what happens when they find themselves in the same city working side by side? can they move past their previous games and reconnect? or will old habits die hard?

word count: 4.9k

smut: yes | no

warnings: swearing, alcohol

“Oh my god, please Thomas.” You groan, “Please, can you just be serious for one second. One second!” 

He raises his hands in defeat, “Okay, fine.” 

“Thank you,” You sigh, “Now go.” 

“Wait, what am I supposed to say again?” He asks, and you and the videographer share a look before you roll your eyes. 

“Bienvenue à nouveau, fans des habs.” You remind him. “On three, okay?” He nods, and you count down, smiling when it finally goes off without a hitch. “Alright now one more time, in English and then we can all go home.” 

He nods, and then shoots you a wink. You shake your head at him, counting up to three for the last time.

“Welcome back, habs fans!” Thomas says, and Ted, your videographer smiles.

“Done.” He turns off the camera, and you give him a pat on the back.

“We really appreciate you coming in Thomas,” You say, “Thanks again.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.” He smirks, and then he heads out.

“Alright, Ted. I’ll see you soon,” You say, gathering your things. “Have a good night.”

With that you wave and head out of the arena. Setting your things in the front seat of your Range Rover, you grin, taking a minute to admire your new car. This was something that would have taken you five years to save up for with the pay at your old job.

It’s kind of ironic, where you were two years ago to where you are now... You didn’t like your job back in Ohio but you couldn’t say you ever saw yourself coming back to Canada, let alone working for an NHL team. 

You thought you had it all figured out back in Columbus. But after your life took a nose dive you realized you really didn’t. A fresh start was what you needed, and luckily with your vast experience in media, you were qualified for a position that Seth recommended to you. A position as head of media operations for the Montreal Canadiens. 

You were weary at first, because why would you want to work in the NHL after you had a huge falling out with one of the players, but the more thought you gave it, the better the offer seemed. It was in Montreal, one of the most beautiful cities in the world, the pay was double what you were getting in Ohio, and it would be a lot more fun.

Not to mention, there were 31 teams in the NHL, and if the one guy you were worried about did ever leave Columbus, there was a ninety three percent chance he wouldn’t come to Montreal. (Literally, you calculated.)

And now it’s been two years, arguably the best two years of your life. You have everything you didn’t have in Ohio; Stable friendships, a job you actually enjoy, a great support system. You’ve gained in every aspect of your life.

You’ve just walked in your front door, when your phone rings. You pull it out of your purse, laughing when you see your bosses name lighting up the screen. “It’s been ten minutes, Reid.” You say, and he laughs. “I’m off the clock.”

“I know, I know.” He responds. “I’m sorry, just this and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Okay, shoot.” You tell him. 

“Tomorrow, media day, I split the players in half for you. We’ll do the first half tomorrow, and then the rest Friday.” 

“Sounds fine to me.” You shrug, “What changed?” 

“We have two new players flying in tomorrow, but they won’t be in until Friday. I figured instead of saving just the two newbies for Friday and rushing you tomorrow with the rest of the guys, we’d just split it evenly.” He explains. 

“Oh,” You say, usually you found out rather quickly when there were trades and new acquisitions, but you hadn’t heard anything today. “I didn’t know we got any new players, trades?”

“Yeah, two trades. I don’t know much, it just happened. New guys are, uh- let me see...” There’s a fast beating in your heart that you haven’t felt for at least a year. When you first started, every time you heard about a trade you’d get a little nervous, cause what if it was him? Eventually those nerves went away, but they seem to have made a comeback all of the sudden. 

You shake out your jitters while you wait for Reid to give you the names, “Here they are, first guy: Joel Edmundson, from Carolina.” You nod, it’s a name you’ve never heard before. 

“Second, Josh Anderson, from Columbus.” 

But that one? It’s a name you’ve heard all too many times. 

Thank god you’re not driving anymore, because you’re sure you would have swerved into oncoming traffic after hearing that. You can feel a chill spread all the way out to your finger tips, a unsettling nervous feeling sitting on your shoulders like a goblin. This can’t be happening. 

He can’t be coming here. 

“Y/N?” 

The phone is still held to your ear, but you can barely breathe let alone get a word out. 

“Are you there?” Reid asks, and finally you manage to just murmur out a noise of acknowledgement, and then you’re hanging up, nearly collapsing onto the couch. You’re in full blown panic mode. 

Within thirty minutes you’ve already fully played out scenario in your head where you quit your job and leave the city, move back in with your parents like a loser and remain single for the rest of your life. And it sucks, but honestly, it sounds better than actually dealing with this. 

If you stay, and let everything play out, you’ll have to see Josh. You’ll have to talk to him, interview him, all while acting as professional as possible so no one figures out that you have history. Now that, that seems just about impossible. 

In a haze you grab for your phone, searching for a specific contact you haven’t used in a while.

“Y/N, nice to hear from you! It’s been a while!” He says, but there’s a note of nervousness to his voice. 

“Seth.” You scold him. 

“I’m assuming you found out about Montreal’s recent acquisition?” 

“Yup, sure did.” You say sarcastically. “Twenty nine other teams that he could have gone to, Seth. Why here?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He says, “Ninety three to seven, the odds were in your favor, but apparently you’re just really unlucky.” 

“Super fucking unlucky.” You whisper, and you can hear Seth sigh on the other end of the phone. “Well, know of any other teams that are looking for media op managers? Columbus would be great,” You ramble, “There’s a really small chance he’ll come back, right?”

“Y/N, come on.” Seth says, “Last time I heard from you, you were loving it over there.”

“Yeah,” You admit, “I do, I love it here, but that’s all gonna change now.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Seth says. “You said you guys ended things on okay terms, if there’s no bad blood it shouldn’t be weird?” 

“Okay terms is not good terms. He told me he’d wait for me to figure my shit out, and then I basically pushed him out the door.” You explain, “We haven’t spoken since then, there’s no way that this isn’t gonna end terribly.”

“You can both learn to be civil and professional,” Seth tries, “You shouldn’t have to give up your job because of this.”

“Yeah, well...” You sigh, shutting your eyes tight. When you open them again you’re kind of hoping you’ll be anywhere but where you actually are, with any other reality, but you’re just stuck. “I don’t really see another way this can go.” 

“Don’t say that,” Seth whispers, “Promise me you’ll at least try. Try to make things work, don’t just give up before you’ve even tested the waters. This might end up being not even half as bad as you think it will be.” 

When you don’t respond, Seth continues, “You love your job, you love the city, you have friends... You’ve built a life for yourself there and you can’t give that up over this.”

If it weren’t for those things you would have quit the second you heard Josh’s name, but Seth is right... You’ve worked for everything you have here. You owe it to yourself to at least try to make things work here before you give it all up. 

You rub your temples with a deep groan, a dreadful feeling that you’re gonna regret this sinking in. But you sigh and agree anyway, “Okay. I’ll try.” 

“Yes!” Seth says, “You got this.” 

“Does he know?” You ask quietly. “Where I am? What I do?”

“No,” Seth answers, “I can tell him... If you want me to.” 

“No that’s okay-,” You decide, “He should probably hear it from me. Thanks, Seth.” 

“You’re welcome,” He answers, and you can’t help but smile a little. He was probably the one thing you actually missed from Columbus. “Will you call me in a few days? Let me know how things are going?”

“Yeah, of course.” You answer, “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

He confirms, and then says a short goodbye. 

You hang up the phone, and then head straight for your wine fridge. There’s a fancy bottle of white wine that you were saving for a special occasion, and while it’s not the type of celebration you were thinking, it definitely is an occasion. You pour yourself a tall glass, grab a chocolate bar, and head to the couch to start overthinking. 

Then you decide within the first ten minutes that thinking is going to do you no good, so you turn on the TV and grab another glass of wine, praying the alcohol will knock you out, because without it, there’s no way your brain will shut off. 

After the third glass and your sixth episode of Schitt’s creek, you finally start to feel tired. Instead of going upstairs and going to bed, you just flop over on the couch, pulling a blanket over your body before closing your eyes, avoiding all the thoughts bumping around in your head. 

They’ll still be there tomorrow you tell yourself, and then you’re out. 

••••••••••

friday

You’re basically tiptoeing around the arena, sneaking players here and there to get their headshots, all while trying your best to avoid him. 

Your plan is working quite well, you’ve manage to go over half the day without a run in. You’ve just finished with Shea, and you only have a few guys left, so you go for another stroll around the main concourse, looking for Brendan so you can get his goal animations done. You’re turning your head side to side, looking out for a short guy when you hear a familiar voice. 

It’s been two years but you’d recognize it anywhere. 

You freeze for a short moment before you’re all but throwing yourself into the room closest to you, which true to your luck, happens to be the men's bathroom. You twist the deadbolt behind you, staring at the door in pure horror. 

It wiggles against the hinges, and then you hear him, “This one’s locked, man.” 

You wait a good five minutes before you finally tiptoe out of the restroom, sneaking back to your office on extreme lookout. You sigh with relief when you’re in the constraints of your office. You’re finally safe now. 

“Y/N,” Reid announces, opening your office door as usual, without knocking.

You give him a small smile, “Hey, Reid, what can I do for you?”

“I found the new guys for you,” He grins, and the smile drops from your face almost immediately. “They’re ready for their close up!”

You kind of feel like there’s a camera that you can look into like you’re on the office or something, because wow, what stupidly perfect timing. 

Normally you’d have the mind to fake a laugh at his dumb joke, but you just shake your head in panic, standing from your chair as you flail your arms. “No-,” You start to say, but it’s too late. 

“C’mon in guys,” Reid moves further into your office to clear the door way and you swear you could literally throw up on the spot right now. 

“Reid- I asked Ted to do their media stuff-,” You try, but it’s too late. 

They walk in, and you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from swearing loudly in front of your boss. That doesn’t stop Josh though, you can’t even look up at him, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “Holy shit.”

You nod your head, your hand slides up from your mouth to the side of your face to act as a shield, while you give Reid your fakest smile. 

He furrows his brows at you, “Everything okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, yeah...” You murmur, and you finally drop the awkward hand, crossing your arms with a huff. Your eyes stay trained on Reid, “I just um, I had asked Ted if he would do their media shots and he said he’d take care of it.” You explain, and your boss makes a face at you. 

“Oh how come? Are you not feeling well?” He gives you an out before you can even think of one, and you jump on it immediately, nodding your head quickly. 

“Yeah, just like splitting head ache,” You say, “Nausea, it’s gross. I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, and you feel terrible because you know he genuinely feels bad, Reid is one of the nicest guys out there. “You can go home, you don’t need to stick around.” He tells you, and you give him an appreciative smile, refusing to even let your eyes wander to the right. 

“That’s great, Reid. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” You’re about to drop, grab your bag and run out the room like the coward you are, but Reid motions to the boys and the overwhelming urge to throw up is stronger than ever. 

“I’ll just introduce you, and then I’ll send them over to Ted, you can get going.” He suggests, and you nod, sucking in a deep breath. “You’re looking quite pale actually.” Reid notes, “Poor thing,”

“Anyway,” He starts, and you force yourself to turn your body to the side, but you still can’t find the courage to look up at him. “This is Y/N, our head of media operations. She deals with all the social media, the interviews and that kind of thing. She’s great, she’s a huge part of our organization.” You give him a short smile in response, thanking him with a light tap on the arm. “Y/N, this is Joel and Josh, they’re gonna be great additions to the team.” 

“Joel, and Josh...” You respond quietly, extending a hand to Joel first, forcing yourself to make eye contact. “Nice to meet you,” You say, and then you move to Josh, holding out your hand to him too, repeating your earlier words firmly. “Nice to meet you,” 

It’s like your body goes cold when you look at him, he hasn’t changed one bit. He looks kind of confused, but accepts your handshake anyway, nodding with an unsure stare. He doesn’t make any move to let go, so you do it for him, pulling your hand from his grasp in a hurry while you grab your bag from behind you. 

“Sorry, Reid. Thanks again, I’ll be in tomorrow.” You tell him, and then you give Josh one last look, before heading straight out of your office. 

Reid looks a little bemused, but watches you leave anyways. You’re basically speed walking out of the arena, trying your hardest to make it to the parking garage in record time, because you actually feel like the air in the massive building is getting thinner. 

“You forgot this.” 

And just like that your heart rate spikes back up. When you don’t turn, or acknowledge him, he whispers your name and there’s a second where memories come flooding back. 

Your body is nearly frozen, you don’t think you could move right now if you wanted to. Josh comes to stand in front of you, and for the first time you’re forced to look at him. Really look at him. 

It’s been two years but you’d still know that expression anywhere. He’s hurt. 

“You work here.” He says, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. 

You bite your lips sheepishly, and you can feel your resolve starting to crumble. You can’t pretend you’re not completely overwhelmed anymore. 

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

You find the strength to nod your head, but then a second later you’re shaking it to indicate that no, you weren’t. You hadn’t decided what you were gonna do yet, you knew he was gonna find out at some point, but you also knew deep down you were never gonna be strong enough to outright introduce yourself to him this way. You were just hoping when he did find out it wouldn’t be that bad... But here you are. “I was kinda hoping I could just avoid you.” You say honestly. 

He looks tense, like he’s holding back words. When he speaks he’s quiet, and you almost miss the way he scoffs quietly at your response. “Avoid me... Are we really that-,” He stops, leaving the sentence open, because he doesn’t know what word comes next. Neither do you, but you understand. 

You just look at each other for a moment, and it’s now that your emotions finally get the better of you. Tears well up in your eyes, and you just shrug at him, because you have no idea what to do. 

“I love this job,” You say weakly, “And I love living here, but-,”

Josh shakes his head and you stop, waiting for his interjection. “But nothing.” He starts, and then he’s moving one step closer to you, and him simply subtracting another inch shouldn’t affect you as much as it does. You feel your knees start to shake, the tears getting a little bit harder to ignore. 

“This doesn’t need to be weird.” He says quietly, “I don’t want it to be-,” Once again the words are left unsaid but you nod anyway, understanding. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You nod quickly, meeting his eyes. You can’t tell if the feeling is warm or cold, but it spreads through your body like wildfire within seconds. You wonder if he feels it too, if there’s anything still here after so long. He drops your gaze and holds your jacket out for you, you take it and then offer him a small smile, “Bye, Y/N.”

And then he walks away.

••••••••••

3 weeks later

“Habs reverse retro, um absolutely, I love these jerseys I think they’re really really cool, so I’m gonna swipe right on these.” Josh says, toying with the tiny phone in his big hands. 

You step in with a chuckle, waving a hand at Ted so he cuts the video. “Alright, you’re done! Perfect,” You say with a laugh, and Josh finally looks up from the phone. You share a glance with your videographer, both of you exchanging a knowing grin. 

“What?” Josh says, and you shake your head with a smirk. 

“Nothing,” You murmur. And Ted starts to laugh. 

“The camera loves you,” He says to Josh, “Almost as much as you love it,” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, “Was I not good?” The corners of his mouth turn up slightly and you just shake your head, trying to hide your wide grin. 

“No, no,” You stop him, and he looks at you skeptically. Finally you shrug and say, “Just maybe next time we do one of these you could like, I don’t know look up at the camera a time or two?” 

Josh starts to laugh, and he shakes his head, looking down bashfully at his feet. “This is not my thing, you know that.” 

And just like that, that stupid feeling is back. Out from the center of your chest all the way to your finger tips. It’s dull this time, but it’s there. You freeze, you’re really hoping Ted didn’t catch on, because you shouldn't know that. 

You change the subject before anything can come of it, and thank god Ted carries on as normal. He didn’t seem to notice, he just flips through his camera bag as usual, murmuring about Shea’s video being even worse. 

You’re not gonna give this anymore time to boil though, so you turn to the culprit, “You’re uh, you’re good to go, thanks Josh.” You say, scratching at the back of your neck. 

He just nods, looking worried at first, but and then half smiles before heading out the door. Once he’s out of ear shot you sigh, grabbing your bag off the chair. 

“Time for a lunch break, Ted?” Cause, wow do you ever feel like you need one. “We’ll film Brendan after?”

“Sounds good,” Ted smiles. 

You nod and then head for the hallway, making sure to go the opposite way Josh did. If you have to walk the whole concourse so be it. 

You shouldn’t be so skittish, you know that... But things have been good the last three weeks. You’ve managed to talk without it being horribly awkward, and no one has found out about your history yet. However, you’re not going to take any chances. The longer you’re in the same room with him, the more likely someone is to slip up, like Josh almost just did. You don’t need to spend a bunch of time with him, just enough time to get your job done. So that’s what you’ve been doing, the bare minimum. Talking only if you absolutely need to. 

The habs were having a great start to the season, not to mention Josh was a huge part of that. He was having the best start of his career, and you weren’t going to ruin it. 

You take a seat at one of the tables in the common area, pulling your book and salad out of your bag with a huff. You would really rather a burger and fries, or something not made up of 90% water, but it was in the fridge and it was easy so you grabbed it. 

You stab the fork into the lettuce, pulling it up one time before you just shake your head and leave it in the container, prodding around at it while your stomach grumbles. 

You look up from your book when your name is called, Joel and of course, Josh are sitting down at a table across from you, an obscene amount of boxed food in their hands. 

Your heart is thumping rapidly in your chest, and you try your best to talk through it, raising your hand in a wave, “Hi, guys.” 

“What’s going on?” Joel asks, “Hungry?”

“No but you sure look it,” You lie, nodding to the boxes they’re holding. 

Joel smiles giddily as they start to open them up, you just grin and then go back to poking at your salad, trying not to pay attention to how good their food smells. You try to distract yourself with your book, but yet again, that doesn’t last long. 

“Hey,” You look up, eyes meeting a complete stranger this time. “I was just wondering if you could tell me where the opposing team locker room is?” 

“Oh, yeah!” You say, standing from your chair to direct him down the hallway. “You’re a player?” You clarify, just to be sure, and he nods. “It’s just down the hall and to the left. Past the equipment room.” 

“Okay...” He says, and you stare oddly as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Thanks,”

He has longer blonde hair, what these stupid boys would probably call a flow, and a long one at that, but he pulls it off. He’s got a nice face with a trimmed beard, and you can tell just from one look at him, swedish. 

He stares at you for a moment and then chuckles uncomfortably, “I’m sorry, worst conversation starter ever.”

Your stomach knots when he says that, and you want to believe that the reason for it has nothing to do with that fact that Josh is sitting right there, watching all of this. You just smile awkwardly, “It wasn’t terrible? More the follow up that could use some work...” You joke. 

“I just saw you sitting here and I thought you were really beautiful, I’m William. I play for the Oilers.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, and although this guy is really sweet all you can think about is Josh sitting right there and hearing all this, but you try your best to smile anyway, not wanting to be rude. “That’s really sweet of you, thank you.” Maybe at a different time you’d give this guy a chance, because he seems quite nice. You briefly remember seeing a name on the Oilers roster for tonight, William Lagesson.

He’s about to open his mouth again, when a whistle from behind the both of you catches your attention, you turn to see a red head with a toothy grin. “Leave that poor girl alone, Laggy.” The red head snips, and William runs a hand through his hair nervously. 

You laugh, trying to make him feel better, and he chuckles with a shake of his head, mumbling an apology for his teammate. “Can I maybe just get your number?” He asks, and you try not to look as surprised as you really are. 

It’s been ages since someone asked you for your number, and apparently it’s been a long time since you said no too, because you completely forget how.  

Your overwhelming urge to be nice all the time fails you here, and you find yourself saying yes even though you really don’t want to. He’s sweet and all but, you’d rather not do the hockey player thing again. 

At the last minute you finally have the mind to put a fake number in, and you feel bad momentarily as he smiles and says bye, but as soon as you see the empty spot at Joel’s table, you just feel panicked instead.

Josh is gone... Does that mean he didn’t hear?

You pack up your things and then stop beside Joel, he side eyes you and then makes a face and you just frown. 

“Coach texted Josh, so he wasn’t lucky enough to hear that whole thing... Me on the other hand?” He takes an obnoxious bite of his food as he shoots you a wink, and all you can do is roll your eyes, and walk away. “That was hilarious!” Joel calls behind you, and you just wave him off, but really, there’s some relief setting in when you find out that Josh missed that last part. 

When you arrive back at your office, there’s a note from your boss, and a box on your desk. 

“Head home early today. Boys will be preparing for the game. We can finish up on Monday. -Reid” Is written in his chicken scratch on a bright pink sticky note. 

You do a happy little wiggle, and then reach for the box. It smells amazing, and your stomach grumbles at the thought, but then when you open it and realize what it is, you’ve suddenly lost your appetite. 

It’s pad thai and spicy yam chicken... Your favorite. 

You know instantly this isn’t from Reid... There’s probably only one person in the world who knows what your order is. You used to go to that thai place by his house all the time, and you’d always order the same thing. 

You don’t even put your bag down, you just leave the food on your desk and turn the light off before walking out. 

You try your best not to think about everything that happened today on your way home, because it felt like a huge step back after three weeks of progress. 

You stop for some groceries, and take a look in a little boutique, anything to keep your mind busy. When you arrive home you play music almost as loud as it can go, hoping it will drown out your thoughts. Over the last three weeks you’ve done enough thinking about this, you’re tired. 

So you workout, shower, make some dinner, and then you sit down to watch the game, pinching yourself every time you find your eyes lingering on number seventeen a little too long. 

The game is pretty slow, the boys aren’t playing their best, Edmonton is on their game and you just know they’re not gonna come out of this one with the two points, but you watch anyway. You kind of want to turn it off and switch to something else after the second period, but you give in and stick around for the third. 

All is fine and normal until the five minute mark ticks down on the clock. 

The camera spans to the right to follow the players going up the ice, when you hear the commentator say, “Big battle, in front of the net...”

And your heart just about stops, because you have a feeling you know exactly who it is. Guess Joel was wrong... He did hear the whole thing. 

“Anderson, and Lagesson, they’re still tied up together. Anderson is hot.”

[heyitstwistytime]

Playing Possum

Prologue:

You're a defenseless person trapped in a world with intense and deadly magic it was only a matter of time before something happened. Well, more than the usual brand of nonsense.

Really it's laughable how it all played out. You got a love letter with instructions to meet up near Ramshackle's forest during lunch. You almost didn't go, but you know that the boys here are...eccentric and persistent. Better bite the bullet and nip this in the bud.

You meet him, an overconfident third year who spends most of his love confession bragging about himself. You reject him, and he curses you into an opossum. With no thumbs and a lot shorter worldview, he leaves you to fend for yourself. With no one else you head to the friends you've made here during your... extended vacation.

Heartslabyul Boys

Ace Trappola:

Absolutely not.

Terrible choice tbh.

Thinks you're ugly and doesn't hesitate to tell you

Probably pokes you with a stick. Oh, that hurts? Ah man, that sucks you should've been stronger.

If you somehow tell him you're the housewarden of Ramshackle he will spend the next hour laughing so hard he can't breathe.

Then he tries to threaten you, blackmail you, whatever it takes to get you as his personal servant.

Man is thriving off this power imbalance.

Bite him for me

Deuce Spade:

Dense but will absolutely take you in and take care of you.

Does he know anything? No. But very good boy.

Congratulations!

You've unlocked the achievement pampered pet!

Will do everything in his power to get you back to normal.

Works better if you promise to make him food.

But even if you don't he'll try. He's a good friend unlike some Ace

He will let you chill on his shoulders and carries you to class.

Totally can be convinced to skip though.

Though if you do go to class, you have to explain the situation and the teachers will most definitely point you to a solution.

If you skip... well... hope that one of you thinks to ask someone for help.

Cater Diamond:

Another terrible choice.

Will rescue you, (if you're injured) posting on magicam his deeds and then absolutely paw you off on Trey.

Doesn't really want the responsibility and Trey will do a much better job

Will avoid you 100% if you're uninjured. Can't even tell him who you are.

Puppy eyes will work on him but you're not a puppy so...

Corner him if you want him to know.

He very hesitantly will take care of you... if you insist.

Hates the idea of searching for a counter spell.

Mention magicam modeling sessions or like those accounts dedicated to pets and you've got his whole attention. Just when he remembered Riddle...

Forces you to be an opossum for two days. For the views. Bite. Him.

Trey:

Responsible but absolutely not looking for a pet.

Not that he wants an opossum as a pet.

I headcanon that he probably dislikes rats. Mostly because he grew up working in a bakery. If I was a rat I'd break into a bakery.

Will try and nudge you back somewhere safer (and out of the way).

Tell him who you are and he'll feed you and make sure you're safe.

The only one on this list whose first instinct isn't 'I can solve this problem by myself'.

He goes to Riddle.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Definitely, an animal lover, will 100% help you out, but only if it seems you want it.

Man respects wild creatures okay.

Headcanon him secretly wanting lots of animal friends bc he's super lonely and isolated

So you go to him and you've already won.

Will lecture you the whole time (affectionately) that wild animals should be more careful around humans.

He totally lectures the hedgehogs.

Responsible All the way.

He totally becomes attached and wants to keep you.

Unless there's a rule against it you'll be living large with the hedgehogs.

How flustered he is depends on when you reveal you're the Ramshackle housewarden.

The longer the better.

Does everything in his power to turn you back.

You're probably good by the end of the day.

Conclusion: If you want to be a pet go to Deuce or Riddle. Avoid Ace and Cater. If you have to Trey will work. He makes tasty snacks at least.

[sugar-petals]

hey angel (m)

♡  sub!felix + reader 

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k 

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare 

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it. 

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh. 

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is. 

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

“Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. reposts, modifications and translations are prohibited. character depictions are fictional & for entertainment purposes only.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

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[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

------

Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?  

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her  pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[mintmatcha]

10 Months

Matsukawa and Hanamaki

Part One

CW: mentions of death and illness, ANGST

Today’s just another day at work. Someone’s dead and someone else is talking about it. 

The worst part of the job, Mattsun decides, isn’t consoling the grieving or dealing with the aftermath of death: it’s listening to these shitty, repetitive speeches. There’s only so many times a man can hear about God’s plan and how much better someone is now that they’ve entered the great beyond before he goes numb. Sure, yes, logically, he understands this is all sad, but before all else?

 It’s boring.

Has he always been this bitter? Has he always been this good at choking down his feelings? Probably.

Mattsun looks away from the speaker at the front of the room, who's droning on about some shit while practically draped over the coffin. He does a precursory scan across the room, making sure everyone was properly teary eyed and mourning, before pulling out his phone. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but it doesn’t matter. No one’s looking at the funeral director during these things. If they were, it was something for them to discuss later during the reception.

'Did you see that employee?' 

'No, I was crying.'

'He was on his phone!'

'How horrible!'

Just before he can open Twitter, a glimpse of unforgettable, bright strawberry blonde hair catches his eye. For a moment, he ignores it off. He’s used to imagining things, used to his brain searching for hints of pink wherever he goes. He's used to turning his head to see it was a trick of the eye.

But this time the color doesn’t fade. Instead, it comes into focus, catching the light that pours through the stained glass windows, rainbows painted across pale skin. All at once, the presence becomes real, and Mattsun feels like he’s seen a ghost.

Not a literal one, but, fuck, he might as well be.

It’s been years since he’s seen Makki, longer since they actually talked, but there he was, standing at the back of the parlor with an obituary in hand. He loathes himself for the way excitement bubbles inside him and his heart gets caught in his throat… and then immediately drops as he processes why Makki would be here. He tries to remember the last name of the deceased, hoping the last name wouldn’t be familiar. Makki’s dad was never in good health, could it be-

No, he definitely would have recognized anyone else with the last name Hanamaki.

That’s when it hits him that Makki isn’t dressed for the funeral. In a sea of black, he’s wearing some raggedy sweatshirt with coffee split down the sleeve and a loose pair of jeans, ripped in all the wrong places. Frankly, he looks like shit, but he’s just leaning against the door frame, standing there like he belongs, with a tiny little grin on his face. 

Makki never looks over, too involved in the speech, but he’s aware of Mattsun’s presence. His torso is angled to face his old friend, chest broad and inviting. Mattsun hates that after all these years, he can still read his body language and understand what it means. It’s an invitation to come over.

Mattsun has to stop himself from going over there. Time has passed, he’s made his choices. He can’t just drop his work for an old friend.

No, not a friend. Stranger adjacent. 

He’s made his choices. 

He stays where he should be, in the corner, for what feels like hours, autopiloting through the rest of the service. By the time it’s all over, and the lights are dimmed, Makki’s already gone.

Mattsun hates that he knows exactly where to find him.

.

.

They find each other behind the parlor, wedged between the building and the dumpster. Makki’s sitting on the curb, legs folded up under him and pressed into his chest. That signature smile hasn’t faded, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He pats the empty space next to him, but Mattsun just shakes his head and stays standing. 

“Just like high school, huh?” Makki says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pouch. He taps the bottom four times,  then shakes it, hard. Waking up the cancer, making sure it’s out of bed, he used to joke. 

“Except we aren’t hiding from teachers anymore.” Mattsun kicks at a crumpled soda can and watches it bounce across the asphalt. “And you’ve changed brands.”

“Now we’re hiding from your boss.” Makki pulls a stick out and waves it, “And Iwaizumi’s not here to bitch about it.”

“Dude,” Mattsun tries not to sigh, but it sneaks out. The casual act was unsettling; Makki was pretending that past 3 years never happened. “I’m happy to see you and all, but I’m working right now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Makki pats his pockets frantically, then pulls out a small pink lighter. It's not the same pink as his hair, but it's close. He brushes it against his pants, back then forward, opening it and lighting it in one smooth motion. He holds out the cigarette, twirling it between his fingers, “Help me light this, why don’t you?”

Mattsun blanches, scoffing in annoyance at the thought. There's the flash of a memory, Hiro's fingers against his lips, holding the cigarettes for him as he breathes in, skinned knees brushing against each other, but he pushes it down.

 “Hanamaki, I-”

“I’ve been demoted to just Hanamaki, huh?” he places it between his teeth and sets it alight, sucking in until the end glows orange. He holds still, savoring the moment, then lets out his breath, smoke seeping out through his teeth. “So, it turns out that I need to plan a funeral.”

Mattsun lets his apathy break, just for a moment. He runs his hands through his hair, completely fucking up the slicked back style as he processes this.  “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be.” Makki shrugs, “Not the end of the world.”

Mattsun blinks, trying to shake off the initial shock. He just lets his work persona take over. “Well, we would be happy to help you plan. We can scheduling for next week in my office, if you want-”

“There’s no rush, don’t worry.” Makki leans back and faces the sun. Even though he’s sitting on the ground, no more than 5 feet from garbage, he seems so peaceful. 

“Who’s it for?” Mattsun asks the obvious question and Makki grins wider, like he’s been waiting for this moment. He waggles his fingers in the air, like he’s celebrating.

“Me.” Makki says. He rolls his head forward and that pleasant air about him fades. It strikes Mattsun that he’s lost weight since high school; his already sharp features are more sullen, sunken into his face. “I’m dying.”

How hadn’t he noticed earlier? He spent so much time looking at Hiro in high school, so much time studying his features…. How could he miss such a dramatic change? Even now, he can remember exactly how the curve his cheek felt under his thumb, how smooth his skin was. Mattsun doesn’t realize he’s sitting until loose gravel bites into the palms of his hands.

“Fuck, dude.” he can only look straight ahead, focusing on nothing, “Are--- are you sure?”

“As sure as medical science can get,” he has the audacity to laugh, “I got brain cancer.”

Brain cancer. Mattsun knows what that means in a vague sense and yet it means almost nothing to him. Questions bubble up in his mind, all of them swimming around, begging for any sort of information to make this all make sense. 

"How long?" He wanted to ask anything else, but that’s the only sentence he could form.

" 'bout 7 inches.” Makki pauses for affect, “Oh, you meant how long do I have left to live?" he's grinning wildly at his own joke, waiting for Mattsun to react. When he doesn't he just takes another drag of his cigarette, smile never fading. "I thought it was funny.”

"It was a little funny." Mattsun relents, gesturing for the butt. It's passed with brushing fingers, knuckle against knuckle. It's been years since he's smoked- since third year of high school- but each pull still burns all the same. "How long?"

"Well, two months ago they told me I had years," he says, like it's nothing, "But the doc did a rescan and it's way worse than they thought.” He taps his temple,  “Apparently, three lil fuckers in there."

"How long?" Mattsun can’t stop repeating himself.

"10 months." he wobbles his hand side to side, “Give or take.”

Mattsun takes another drag, harder this time. It’s unfair that he’s this upset about it, that this isn’t just another funeral to him.

“Whoa, don’t hog the whole thing!” Makki grabs for his cigarette, opening and closing his hand like a small child, “You’ll get cancer from these, you know? ”

Mattsun doesn’t laugh. He just watches the ember fall on to his slacks. They flare of a quick moment before dying, leaving  little discolored burns in their wake.

“Both of us can’t get cancer- it’d be like wearing the same dress to a party. So embarrassing.” he finally just snatches it out of Mattsun’s hand, “So, are you going to help me?”

“H-help you.” he repeats back. Nothing that’s happening right now feels real.

“With my funeral. Duh.”

“You want me to plan your service?” Mattsun asks.

“Well, us. Not just you. Duh.”

Duh. 

“Why?” Mattsun breaths and yet he feels like he’s suffocating, “Why me? After everything I did-”

“I don’t want my dad to worry about it.” Makki kisses his teeth and pulls himself into a ball,  “He almost had a heart attack trying to figure out my mom’s and I …. I just don’t want him to worry.” Makki breathes out through his nose- it’s how he dispels negativity in his life, just like how he did in high school. “Besides, if I plan it, it doesn’t have to be some fucking boring ass pity party. We can make it fun. A fun-eral.”

These all just seem like words. There’s meaning behind them, sure, but they don’t seem to mean anything when they’re strung together like this. Mattsun wonders if this is shock, or some weird form of it. He’s seen it before, in the eyes of family’s blindly choosing and planning. He always thought they dumb, not knowing how to react, not knowing if they should be sad or angry or …. Something. 

But he gets it now. The news doesn’t always sink in.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits after a long moment, “I don’t… I don’t think I’m processing this.”

Makki pushes off of the curb and stands, brushing off dust from his pants. “I get it. It’s a lot to hear.” he flashes a peace sign over his shoulder as he starts down the alley, “Think about it and get back to me.” A thin puff of smoke curls into the air, “My number’s the same as it always was.”

Mattsun sits there, hidden between the dumpster and his work, and tries to process as he watches Makki walk out of his life once again.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕲𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓

____________________________

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌!𝕭𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖞 𝖝 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙!𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖀

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: When the Queen falls sick and passes away, King Bucky must marry another, preferably the princess of an alliance kingdom nearby, in order to keep peace and order among the lands. However she is the most god awful human being anyone has ever met. Her guard however well she was definitely not what the king expected.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: nothing (part two)

𝖆/𝖓: opening a taglist for those who want to be tagged in future parts! just message me, reblog, ask, whatever works best for y’all! thanks so much for the love on the first already! 

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4k

part one |

___________________________

“Psst!” you turned around in search of the voice.

“Psst! Y/n!”

“Wanda?”

Wanda was the town witch. She lives right behind the kingdom’s castle in the woods and often visits you when she gets bored. 

“Hey I’m waiting for shit to do it’s thing and I remembered the pretty king was supposed to come today,” she said winking. 

“Indeed. He and his colleagues are having breakfast right now.”

“And you’re out here because?”

“The Queen and Charlotte joined them.”

“Oh, ew.”

“I’m rather fond of the Queen, she’s like my mother,” you said. 

“I was talking about Charlotte. Anyway, have you seen him?”

“Of course. I was the first to greet them.”

“What does he look like? Is he old and ugly looking for fresh meat?”

“No, actually quite young to be a King in my opinion.”

“Is he handsome?” she quirked.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to say.” you avoided. There was no way that you were going to tell Wanda about how incredibly jealous you may be of Charlotte. She gets the chance to possibly marry one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. How you kept composure when you first saw him will forever remain a mystery.

“So he is handsome,” Wanda interrupted.

“Pardon?”

“You know I can read minds.”

“Right.” 

“So tell me how did you keep your composure? Also I must meet him now that he’s got your panties in a bunch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered over a man. Not since-”

“I’m not flustered! And yes, he is quite handsome but he’s here for Charlotte.”

“So you have zero chance?”

“Not that I want one but yes.”

“That sucks.”

“Excuse me,” King James startled you both. 

“Your majesty,” you both said bowing. 

“Do you know where I could find the king’s advisor? Bruce, I believe.”

“Ah yes. I can show you the way if you’d like?” you responded.

“Yes please. But allow me to find my own advisor before we head over.”

“That’s alrig-”

“James. I apologize for my tardiness,” a man with blonde hair said approaching you guys.

“Y/n, this is my advisor, Vision. Vision, this is the king’s lead knight.”

“Hello. And hello there,” he looked behind you where Wanda was hiding quite poorly if you do say so.

“Wanda it’s alright. I’ll be back.”

“He’s cute. I like him,” you heard her say in your head. You had to stifle a chuckle but proceeded to lead the men to Doctor Bruce Banner, the king’s advisor and doctor of the castle. 

“Good afternoon, Dr. Bruce. I’ve brought our guests King James Barnes and his accomplice advisor Vision.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Vision.”

You watched the men interact and felt yourself becoming a bother to them so you slipped out quietly and went ahead to look for Charlotte. Bucky, clueless to what the men began talking about, also slipped out the room following close behind you. 

“Miss,” Bucky called for you.

“Yes? Is there anything you need? I was just about to fetch Charlotte for you to meet.”

“Oh that’s wonderful hope you don’t mind if I tag along. I have no idea where I am,” he laughed. God, his laugh was beautiful. Smooth like butter.

“No need to fret. So tell me about yourself.”

“Well, my parents died young so I’ve been King for quite too long now.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“It’s alright. They were quite sick, nothing could’ve saved them. I had married Elizabeth but she too grew sick and passed away not long ago. My people demanded a queen so when your king had offered his youngest daughter I figured I’d come for the sake of my people.”

“You’ll like her,” you hesitated. Charlotte was pretty awful.

“Really?” He sounded skeptical. 

“I will not speak ill of the king’s daughter. It is my job to protect her,” you hesitated.

“So no?”

“No.” you gave in. 

Charlotte was in her room with Bucky’s friend Natasha completely talking her ear off. When you and Bucky arrived her eyes grew wide and she sighed in relief that she doesn’t have to talk to her anymore. 

“I have to go,” Natasha said to Charlotte.

“But-”

“Charlotte, the king is here for you,” you announced.

“HI!” she shouted, startling everyone in the room. 

“Good fucking luck,” Natasha whispered to Bucky.

“Come let’s go,” she grabbed your arm and dragged you away.

You nodded to Charlotte and closed the doors. You stepped to the side to guard the door when Natasha had halted turning back to you. 

“What are you doing?” she asked you.

“I’m guarding the princess’s room. There is an unknown man in her room and I must be here to make sure she’s safe.”

“Bucky isn’t gonna hurt her.”

“You never know.”

“Well, I want to chat with you. I like you. Wasn’t expecting a woman to be a lead knight. You should meet with Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers. They’re Bucky’s most noble knights and I think you’d like them.”

“And if the princess is harmed?”

“Have another guard protect her.” 

You were contemplating because meeting with the other knights did seem more appealing than standing in front of the princess’s room all day. Thor, one of your more admirable friends within the army, also the king’s personal guard, was walking down the corridor, probably keeping watch for there were many unknown guests in the castle. 

“Thor!” you shouted, bringing attention to you and Natasha. 

“Good evening, dame.” 

“Would you be able to guard the princess’s room while I speak with King James’s knights.”

“Of course.”

You bowed your head and walked with Natasha back to the dining hall where the men. 

“Boys, I brought her.”

The men’s eyes grew wide as they walked toward you to greet you with enthusiasm. 

“Good afternoon. I’m Sir Steven Grant Rogers and this is Sir Sam Wilson. We are noble knights and loyal friends of King James Barnes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you as to you, I’m Dame Y/n L/n; though I’m sure you knew.”

“We truly admire your bravery and skill as a knight and especially as a woman. It’s rare to see someone like you excel in power the way you do,” Sam said. 

“Why is it so hard for men to believe that women can be and are strong and brave like men,” Natasha nudged your arm. 

“Couldn’t tell you,” you joked.

“Y/n, I have a young knight back home that I believe would deeply appreciate your intel and advice on fighting and chivalry. Would you ever be interested in teaching the lad? Assuming this marriage goes well,” Steve asked you.

“Well, even if not I don’t see why we can’t keep an alliance. I would love to,” you responded.

“How did you become a knight?” Natasha asked you.

“Well, I was born to thieves and they were captured by the king. They were cowards however and took cyanide instead of pleading a case. I was eight at the time. The queen found me and practically took me in as her own. I wasn’t too fond of the pretty dresses and crowns. The queen had me learn to fight and now here we are. I’ve been a lead knight for years now. Until the last battle against the rebels but we hadn’t needed the army since then so now the king has me as his youngest daughter's personal guard.”

“What happened at the battle?” Natasha asked.

“I wouldn’t rather talk about that,” you whispered shyly. It was a horrible day for you and your men. You won but not without lots of bloodshed and loss. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“It’s alright.”

“Y/n!” the king called for you.

“Yes, your majesty?” 

“Show our guests to their rooms and make sure everything is in order for the celebration in a few weeks.”

“Of course.”

You led them to their rooms and little did you know Bucky had listened to almost everything you had to say to his friends. He had to step away from Charlotte as she was simply speaking ill of the kingdom’s chefs and maids and you at some point. She also talked extremely high of herself, too high.

Unlucky for her, he was beginning to grow more fond of you than the girl that wouldn’t stop talking about herself moments ago. 

The celebration he and many kings had been invited to was only a few weeks away. And Bucky and his friends would be staying with the king until then. He was determined to get to know you in every way possible. He hoped that you would let him, until then he was going to have to pretend to be interested in the brat that was the king’s daughter.

======================================

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@velvetcardiganbucky​

@chipilerendi​

@heavenhatesme

@austynparksandpizza

@ahahafudge​

[heliads]

One Moves On Chapter Three: Search Party

Stiles Stilinski doesn’t know what to think when he’s taken by the Ghost Riders. He’s grateful to be joined by Y/N L/N, although when he finally escapes, no one seems to remember her at all.

previous / series masterlist / next

It’s just starting to sink in now. Stiles had gone home, lain awake in his bed even as the hours passed by. Y/N can’t be dead, that’s impossible. Stiles had talked to her, laughed with her, wished he had spent more time with her. Either there are two Y/N L/Ns in Beacon Hills, one of them coincidentally dead, or Stiles might have actually gone out of his mind.

The next morning, Stiles takes a trip down to the Hale apartments. His feet tap endlessly on the floor of the elevator, unable to stay still. His knock echoes twice through the hallway, his knuckles rapping against the door. Peter takes his time answering, but when he does he doesn’t even give Stiles the customary sarcastic jibe. Stiles must look upset enough to warrant him a reprieve this once.

Peter glances across the hallway behind Stiles, as if making sure he hadn’t been followed, then ushers him in. The door clicks shut after him, but Stiles can’t find the energy to feel worried. After all that’s happened, being in the same room as Peter Hale doesn’t hold that same fear. Stiles isn’t sure whether that’s a good thing or not.

Peter folds his arms across his chest. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? I do hope it’s a thank you. I did save your life, you know. I made sure they remembered you. I got them the keys to the Jeep and everything.” Stiles waves a hand at him absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah, thank you. I need to know what you remember about Y/N L/N.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “I know she exists, if that’s what you're asking. What, did you leave her behind on the Wild Hunt? Still checking to make sure she’s not been taken again?” Stiles shakes his head. “I can’t find her. I asked Scott last night if he’d seen her, and he told me that she was dead.” Peter’s cocky sneer freezes. “What?”

Stiles finally looks directly at him. “Exactly. He told me that she died a few months ago saving us all from the Beast. I thought he was crazy, but everyone else says the exact same thing.” Peter nods. “You’re here to see if I remembered seeing her in the train station to make sure you haven’t gone insane?”

Stiles stares at him expectantly. “So you do remember her?” Peter gives him a look. “Of course I remember her. The two of you making your jokes for hours isn’t exactly an experience that’s easy to forget. Trust me, I wish I could, maybe over a bottle or two of whiskey, but that’s not the point. Yes, she was there. You’re not going insane.”

Stiles sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “So if she never died, then where is she? What do I do now?” Peter gestures towards the door. “You figure it out on your own time and leave me alone. I don’t have time for all of your pointless heroism. I saved your life once, never again.” Stiles protests as he’s directed unceremoniously to the door.

“She saved your life too! She fought to protect this town and your daughter. The least you could do was try to help return the favor.” Peter shrugs as Stiles stumbles back into the hallway. “I got you two out of the station. That’s enough to even the scales.” Peter goes to close the door in Stiles’ face, then hesitates. “I’ve heard of things like this happening before. After rifts open and close, people don’t always make it through. If I were you, I’d look into a little phenomenon called etheria.”

Stiles frowns at him, bewildered. “Etheria?” Peter gives him a pointed look. “Yes, etheria. Not all rifts open and close perfectly, and when there are mishaps, they’re called etheria. There are several hotspots for etheria across the world, where people appear or disappear.” Stiles sighs. “Why do I have a feeling that Beacon Hills is one of them?” Peter gives him a wolflike grin. “Because whenever something goes wrong, it’s Beacon Hills. There are a couple of hotspots nearby, I’d suggest that you look into them. Maybe you’ll find your girl.”

Stiles opens his mouth to protest over the description of ‘his girl’, but he closes it again lamely when he realizes that Peter isn’t exactly wrong. Peter’s hand tightens on the door. “This is the part where you thank me, and then leave. I’m done being charitable for the day.” Stiles mutters under his breath. “And what a day it has been.” Louder, he settles for an ounce of gratitude. “I do appreciate it, Peter. Really.”

Peter grunts. “You should. Goodbye, Stilinski. I hope to never see you again, or at least for another couple of months.” Stiles barely manages to eke out a “Me too” in reply before the door is slammed in his face. A small residue of anger bubbles up at this lack of hospitality, but Stiles is too busy turning over the possibility of a new lead in his head to truly feel annoyed. Etheria. What could that possibly mean?

Well, if there’s one thing Stiles can do well, it’s research. Scott and Malia may have claws and fangs, Lydia may be able to shatter glass with a scream, but Stiles can find the answers to anything. Give him a day or two, a well-functioning laptop, and an unhealthy amount of caffeine, and he could probably break into any building on the planet.

However, he doesn’t have to break into any buildings. All Stiles has to do is find out the rough locations of etheria hotspots. Peter was right- there is one in Beacon Hills, where Y/N disappeared, and there are a few others scattered across the globe. There are 13 in total, dispersed throughout the continents. They all occur in places with high amounts of supernatural activity, which is why Beacon Hills was one. The others are farther away, but Stiles has never objected to a road trip, and he certainly won’t now.

As he learns more about the etheria phenomenon, Stiles is surprised that he hadn’t heard about it sooner. It’s a minor miracle that everyone except Y/N made it out of the Ghost Riders’ train station safely- whenever there’s a rift in the universe, things always go wrong. Stiles just wishes that the one person dragged away from him wasn’t the one person he’s come to count on in times of need. 

As he researches, Stiles finds himself thinking more about Y/N. How could he have not gotten to know her better? She was just like him- no supernatural abilities, no fast healing or claws or glowing eyes. Just a human heartbeat and a pair of knives in her hands, and the courage to never back down from a fight. He remembers fighting with her in the past, a baseball bat in his hands and another weapon in hers. He’d felt a rush of gratitude that she had his back, but he’d always moved on afterwards. Why hadn’t he stayed?

It’s not like he didn’t know where she was. Y/N attended Beacon Hills High, the same school where Stiles and Scott and everybody else went day after day. They might not have had the same schedule, but they could have at least hung out after classes. To be honest, Stiles finds himself tinged with regret that he didn’t make more of an effort to see her.

However, Y/N also had the opportunity to hang out with the pack, and she never took him up on it. Stiles thinks he’d asked her once, back before the train station or the Wild Hunt had even existed to him. She’d said something about wanting to keep her distance, and how she wanted to have a life outside of the supernaturals. Stiles couldn’t exactly blame her, and he’d wanted to respect her choices. That being said, Stiles can’t help but wonder if she’d change her mind now that-

Well, now that what? Now that she’d been stuck in the Wild Hunt along with him, been annoyed at Peter, had the misfortune of being trapped by etheria and ending up hundreds of miles away from her home, would she feel any different? Stiles knows he certainly has. He has no idea how long he’d been stuck in the grasp of the Ghost Riders, but he knows it was long enough to change his mind about Y/N. He wants to see her again, wants to go to school and walk with her through the halls. The thought of seeing her across a crowded corridor and simply looking the other way doesn’t feel right. He couldn’t leave her behind, not if he tried.

Stiles ends up searching most of the weekend before he finds the locations of the etheria hotspots. Peter was frustratingly vague about how to find them, but Stiles has a sneaking suspicion that the werewolf wasn’t trying to hinder his progress, merely that he also had no idea how to find Y/N. The records on etheria are minimal at best, which makes sense- anyone who experienced being sucked away to another hotspot would be unable to complete their research, as they’d be in a completely different country. Maybe even another continent.

In the end, Stiles manages to come up with a rough assortment of hotspots. There are a few places with high amounts of supernatural activity which look like excellent places to start. The only problem is that there are twelve other locations where Y/N could be, and he has no idea where to begin searching. Does he try the east coast, or stick to the west? Does he give up on North America entirely and try France or something?

It would be helpful if Stiles could question Scott or Malia or anyone who knows anything about tracking people. The only problem is that etheria comes with definite downsides- namely, that anyone pulled away through a rift to a different hotspot is forgotten by those who once knew them. Etheria literally means that victims- or the etherials- cease to be real to their friends and family. By being cast aside through the rift and not properly returning home, the spell of the Ghost Riders is technically still holding true. Until Y/N steps foot into the hotspot where she belongs, Beacon Hills, no one will remember her except Stiles.

This seems like a herculean task. What if Y/N has started moving from her hotspot? What if she was found by supernaturals and killed? For the first time, the reality of this job is beginning to sink in. The chances of Stiles finding her are practically impossible. But then memories of Y/N start to filter back into place- the way she’d laughed at his jokes, even the worst ones that only received a smile or a grimace. The way she’d had his back against hunters and monsters and everything they’d gone through. Even back at the train station, when he’d wanted to give up and stop looking for a way out, she’d given him hope. No, Stiles can’t leave her. Not after everything they’ve been through. Not after everything they could do together.

Stiles is about to stop research when he finds one last manuscript. It’s a PDF that some blessed historian uploaded, full of old-timey grammar and words that Stiles thinks were probably last popular in the fifth century. Stiles is scanning it, one hand pressed to his temples as if the brief contact alone can will him through the headache currently descending on him due to the density of the text, when he sees it.

It’s an explanation on how to reach people who were caught unawares by etheria. A way to reliably calculate which hotspot the etherials would be pulled into, and how to find them before they wander too far away and are lost forever. If you chart each etheria hotspot on a map and draw lines connecting each one, they seem to form triangles that crisscross all over the globe. Simply look for a point in the same triangle as the base hotspot, one that is surrounded by at least three other triangles. The triangles form a net of energy, one that will draw the given etherial to a specific hotspot. The pattern is frustratingly random enough to an observer that the hotspot appearances seem vague, but once you know the trick, it all falls into place.

Stiles leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. This is it- the way to finally reach Y/N. Quickly, he pulls up a map, drawing out the hotspots and the triangles just like the manuscript directed. He pauses, one finger on the hotspot over Beacon Hills and the other searching for the triangles that will direct him towards Y/N’s hotspot. He looks, brow furrowed, and then he finds it.

If his calculations are correct- and Stiles has fairly good reason to think that they are- Y/N was dragged away to a small town called Crow Rock. It’s actually not that far away from Beacon Hills- well, not compared to the other ones. It may be a couple of hours drive, but it’s on the same continent. That’s a start, at least.

Stiles jots down the address, then stands, pushing in his chair at his desk. There’s no guarantee that this will work. Y/N could be long gone by then, either by hitching a ride or by being killed. The triangle trick from the manuscript could be a complete fake, and he could be wasting a day’s drive for nothing. Then again, Y/N is out there somewhere, lost and with no idea how she got there. Stiles owes it to her to find her, to bring her home.

This may be a fool’s errand, but Stiles has been a fool before. At least now it is for her.

one moves on tag list: @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​, @blahhhhhhhaaa​

[marjansmarwani]

sleep is never coming

2.8k || ao3

Owen has been having the same dream for months now. Every few nights he falls asleep and is returned to one of the worst moments of his life in vivid technicolor. After one of these nights, he finds himself in the kitchen: seeking some tea in pursuit of sleep when he is suddenly not alone. But maybe the young officer who just stumbled into his kitchen from his son's bedroom is the best person he could talk to about this. Maybe it takes someone who loves his son as much as he does to truly understand the fear that is keeping him up at night. ----- Angst Week Day 1: "How do we fix this?" + Anon request: "It's just a nightmare."

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

The bang is sudden, unexpected, and earth-shattering. Owen whips around, searching for the source of the sound but stops mid-turn, frozen in horror at the sight before him. His son slumping over; clutching his collarbone, gasping in pain, and slowly falling to the ground. He tries to move towards him but he feels as if he is trying to move through molasses, too slow to reach him in time. Too slow to help him; just like he was too slow to prevent it. 

It’s the same, every time. He can trace the movements, he knows the script by heart. First, TK falls; then comes the blood. Far, far too much of it oozing from the entry wound, spreading across the ground beneath him and sliding down the wall behind them. There’s more blood too, in a place it should never be: coming out of TK’s mouth as he struggles to breathe, as his wide and terrified eyes seek Owen’s. 

He wants to reassure him, he wants to tell him it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to lie. He made a promise many years ago to never lie to his child, no matter what. And as much as he wants it to be a truth, it may not be. He doesn’t know that everything will be okay and that terrifies him. 

There is movement and commotion and voices shouting instructions and updates but all Owen knows for sure is the sensation of watching TK’s eyes close, or seeing the moment he stops breathing. He knows for certain the exact moment he watches his son die because it is the moment his heart shatters. 

There is deadly silence then, for a beat. And in the breath after, he wakes up. 

He shots upright in bed, sucking in a harsh breath before running a weary and shaking hand across his face. “It’s just a nightmare,” he reminded himself, “it’s not real.” He knew this: he’d been having that dream for months now. 

While true, the reminder did nothing to quell the racing of his heart. He sighed and threw the blankets back, climbing out of bed and heading towards the bedroom door. There was no use trying to go back to sleep; past experience had shown him that much. His only hope was to head to the kitchen, make some tea, and hope for the best. Just like he had every few nights in the month since the accident. 

He suppressed a yawn as he walked into the kitchen before checking that the kettle still had water in it and turning on the burner. He leaned against the counter as it heated, rubbing at his tired eyes. He couldn’t keep going on like this. He needed to sleep through the night, he needed to make sure he was on the top of his game. He owed it to his team. 

But every time he tried, he got a front-row seat to one of the worst moments of his life. Nothing — no fire, no accident, not even 9/11 — would compare to the fear he had felt watching his son collapse after being shot. He knew worrying about him was normal, he knew dwelling on it was to be expected. He just hadn’t banked on reliving it every other night. 

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming down the hall until a sound of surprise had him looking up to see a tousled, shirtless, and embarrassed Officer Reyes standing at the threshold of his kitchen. 

“I’m sorry Sir, I didn’t know…” 

Owen waved off his stammered apology, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Carlos. And please, it’s 3 am and you’re in my kitchen—I think you can call me Owen.” 

Carlos gave a nervous laugh but walked further into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Owen, “It is 3 am so if you don’t mind me asking Sir...Owen, what are you doing?” 

Owen gestured at the kettle that was just starting to steam, “Couldn’t sleep, so I decided to see if some tea would help. Would you like some? I could use the company.” 

“Oh,” Carlos looked taken aback, “um, sure. Thank you.” 

Owen turned to the cupboard to pull out two mugs and the box of chamomile tea. He held it up to Carlos, who nodded. “So,” he began, setting everything down on the counter next to the stove, “any particular reason you are in my kitchen at 3 am?” 

Carlos chuckled and stepped closer, settling onto one of the stools on the other side of the counter, “I just woke up and wanted a glass of water. I figured you wouldn’t mind and I had no idea I’d run into anyone.” 

“Normally you’d be right, but I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately.” 

Carlos was quiet then and Owen could see the dilemma playing out in his head through his expression. It was in Carlos Reyes’s nature to fix things, and he was trying to decide whether or not prying into his boyfriend’s father’s insomnia over 3 am tea was crossing a line. Owen decided to make the decision for him. 

“I’ve been having some dreams that are keeping me up. Well, a dream I guess. The same one, every time.”

Carlos studied him as Owen paused to pull the whistling kettle off the burner, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Owen shook his head, “Thanks, but one of us losing sleep over it is enough. No reason to keep you up too.” 

“I’m already up and after the shock of finding you in the kitchen I am wide awake,” Carlos pointed out dryly. “We’re both here so you may as well talk about it, if you want to.” 

Owen considered as he poured the water over the teabags in the mugs. Did he want to? Keeping it to himself clearly wasn’t working. He didn’t want to burden anyone else with this; a part of him wondered how anyone else could possibly understand. The fear and pain of watching your child almost die was unlike anything else. Still, he conceded, in this particular situation, who was better suited to understand this fear than Carlos? He knew how hard the accident had been hard on him too, despite trying as hard as he had to keep up a brave front. If anyone could understand where he was coming from, it would be the young man sitting at the counter with him. 

“I keep reliving that night.” 

He stole a glance at Carlos to see if he needed to be more specific but the newly clenched jaw told Owen that he knew exactly what night he was talking about. He slid the other mug across the counter before wrapping his hands around his own, “sometimes it feels like it’s every time I try to sleep. I close my eyes and I’m just there again.” 

Carlos let out a shuddering breath and tightened his grip on his mug, “I know what you mean. I...had a similar problem, right after it happened. I don’t think I got much sleep at all while he was in the hospital. I would wake up afraid, not remembering that he was okay, that it had all turned out fine. I just had this fear that I couldn’t shake. Sometimes I don’t think I ever will, not completely. The only thing that helped with the dreams, at least, was the fact that TK was lying next to me, alive and okay, eventually.” 

“Well I’m sure neither of you would appreciate me coming to check on him every time I have that dream, would make for some awkward encounters,” Owen retorted, trying for a joke that fell flat, judging by Carlos’s forced smile. He sighed and ran a weary hand over his face, “How do we fix this?” 

“Time, I guess,” Carlos responded with a shrug. “I wish I had a better answer, but I think that’s the only one there is.” 

Owen took a sip of his tea, rolling the idea around in his mind before he shook his head, “I don’t know if time is going to be enough. I don’t think time will ever completely erase the guilt.” 

“The guilt?” There was genuine surprise in the young officer’s voice and Owen snorted. 

“I’m not only his father, but his captain. I told him to breach the door. I gave the order, and I was standing right there. I had all the information but I didn’t put it together fast enough to stop it, to save him. There is not a single way of looking at this that doesn’t make me responsible.” 

Owen isn’t sure what reaction he expected out of his son’s boyfriend, but it certainly wasn’t what he got. He didn’t expect him to scoff and counter his claim with one of his own: “How do you think I feel? I’m a cop and I was on the scene. We knew there was a gun and yet it slipped through the cracks. It’s more my fault than anyone’s if anything.” 

Owen blinked for a second, processing everything that Carlos had just said. “That’s insane,” he retorted incredulously, “you had two civilians in your care and the logical assumption to make was that once the grandfather collapsed the gun was no longer an issue. “Besides,” he added wryly, “whoever heard of anyone shooting at the fire dept? Everyone loves us.” 

Carlos snorted at that before his expression turned serious again, “The same goes for you: how did you have any way of knowing that things were any different than any other time? You followed protocol, you did everything you should have. TK did everything he should have; he did the job he was trained to do. Chances are, nothing could have prevented what happened.” 

Owen considered his words as he swished the tea in his cup, watching as the leaves that had settled at the bottom rose upwards into the warm liquid again. “You might be right,” he allowed, “but I don’t like it.” 

“No one likes feeling helpless, Owen,” Carlos pointed out wryly. “But sometimes that’s all we can be.”

Owen looked up from his tea to study the younger man, who met his gaze and held it. “You’re pretty wise for someone so young, you know that?” he said after a few moments. 

“That’s just your sleep-deprived brain talking.” 

Owen chuckled at that and Carlos grinned in response. “What do you think TK would say if he knew we were both up at an ungodly hour worrying about him?”

“He would be very against it,” Owen said with certainty, and Carlos hummed in agreement. 

“Unfortunately for him, I don’t think either of us is going to stop anytime soon.” 

“No,” Owen agreed, “but that’s what happens when you love someone.” 

Carlos froze, choking on his tea mid-sip before setting the cup down as he coughed and stared at Owen, who chuckled. 

“It’s okay Carlos, I don’t know if you’ve said it yet, but it doesn’t matter. I know you love him and if I know my son, he feels the same way. I’m just happy you two found each other. It makes me feel a lot better knowing that he has someone else who cares about him as much as I do looking out for him.”

“But not enough to help you sleep at night, huh?” 

“Apparently not,” Owen agreed wearily. 

Carlos gave him a smile, “What about the fact that he has both of us looking after him now? Does that make you feel any better?” Carlos paused a moment and met Owen’s eyes before continuing, “Because you’re not alone in this Owen, and neither is he. You have a family here in Austin. I may have only been around for a few months but it doesn’t take long to see. You, TK, the rest of the crew: you all look out for each other. Does that help at all?” 

Owen looked down at the counter, overwhelmed by the truth of the statement. It wasn’t that he didn’t know that, it was more that sometimes it was hard to remember. It didn’t seem like so long ago that he had arrived in Austin, that they had all met. Yet he knew what Carlos said was true. He did have a family here in Austin now, and it was growing to include a certain officer more and more each day. 

“As long as we’re clear that you’re included in that too, Carlos,” he said, after a beat. 

The younger man opened his mouth but Owen held up a hand, “Nope, no arguments. You’re just as much a part of this as anyone else. It was already true, but this whole tea thing has really sealed the deal, no backing out now.” 

There was another beat of silence, and then Carlos smiled. “Thank you, Owen,” he said softly. 

They trailed off into comfortable silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts and sipping their tea. It was some time before Owen happened to catch a glimpse of the clock over the stove. He swore, breaking the reverie they had been in and causing Carlos to startle ever so slightly. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I just hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Or early, maybe?” He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair before turning and looking at Carlos whose eyebrows rose when he saw the time. 

“Do we even bother trying to go back to bed at this point?” he asked, and Owen chuckled. 

“How do you feel about breakfast?” he asked instead. 

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan,” Carlos agreed, pulling himself off of his stool and crossing into the kitchen, “anything particular you had in mind?” 

It was shortly after that that a groggy TK stumbled into the kitchen, taking in the scene before him between blinks as he fought to clear the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. “What are you two doing?” he asked, voice still slightly raspy with sleep but filled with confusion. “Am I dreaming?” 

Carlos grinned and stepped around the counter, pressing a light kiss on TK’s cheek as Owen spoke, “Can’t say that you are, no. I can say though that I am surprised to see you up — it’s pretty early.” 

“Which is why I was confused when I woke up to an empty bed,” he retorted pointedly, glancing at Carlos. “So I figured I should see where you’d gotten to.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Carlos told him sincerely, “I just woke up and came out for a drink and ran into your dad in the kitchen. We got to talking and realized neither of us could go back to sleep, so we made breakfast.” 

He turned as he spoke, gesturing to the counter which held a platter of eggs and pancakes. “I was just going to come and wake you up in a bit, to see if you wanted any.” 

TK glanced from the counter to Owen and back to Carlos, eyebrows raised, “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?” he asked eventually. 

“Pretty sure,” Owen said with a shrug, and TK nodded. 

“That makes sense,” he agreed, “I don’t think I could even dream up something this strange.” 

“I don’t know son,” Owen said lightly as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot, “the mind can be a pretty interesting place. But the food is getting cold, come on.” 

TK glanced at Carlos again who smiled at him and pulled him forward to one of the stools. He slid onto it and accepted the plate passed to him by his father with his baffled expression still in place, though it seemed to be morphing to something closer to fondness with each passing second. 

“So,” he said softly, leaning closer to Carlos as Owen busied himself at the stove, flipping the last batch of pancakes, “you and my dad get along now, do you?” 

“We do,” Carlos confirmed confidently, shooting Owen a grin. 

TK looked between them, “I don’t know if I should be happy or worried about this.” 

“Probably a bit of both,” Owen told him lightly as he slid the last pancakes onto the tray and set it down before them.” 

“That sounds right,” TK agreed. “What did you guys talk about?” 

There was quiet for a second as Carlos and Owen glanced at each other. “Just stuff,” Owen said lightly, “general things, everyday stuff; you know.” 

TK didn’t look convinced but he didn’t press, reaching instead for the plate of pancakes and serving them onto the plates before them. “That’s fine,” he said lightly, “keep your secrets. Since you’re friends now, I guess.” 

Carlo shook his head fondly as he accepted the pancakes placed on his plate and Owen smiled. Maybe it was just morning optimism, but things looked better in the dim dawn light leaking through the kitchen windows. Maybe this talk, this reminder that his family was so much more than just him and TK now, would be the thing that would help him to put this behind him. 

Maybe tonight he would have a dreamless sleep — maybe this had been just what he needed.

[honey-dewey]

Pepper Spray

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 2,181

Warnings: None

The Statesman parking lot was the only thing you hated about your job. Mostly because it was dark as the night and terrifying even when you were clutching a weapon. Of course, when the time comes to use said weapon, you may or may not have accidentally used it on the wrong person. Oops.

 You loved your job. A well paying and not too hard job at the Statesman distillery and apparently, secrecy agent service. You mostly worked with the papers, filing and sorting and re-reading. It was hell on the feet and worse on the eyes, but you knew every inch of that building and all it’s goings on. It was truly an ideal job. 

However, the one and only thing you hated about your job was the parking lot. 

It was far away from the building, shrouded in darkness that the lights never touched. You’d put pepper spray on your keychain after a month of working at Statesman, and had hesitantly asked Ginger to make you a discreet weapon after you’d used your pepper spray once on a creep at a bar. She’d given you brass knuckles that you’d thankfully never had to use, but just knowing you could protect yourself was comfort enough. Even if you weren’t on Statesman property, the feeling of being protected was one you loved. 

Fridays were, of course, always hectic. Weekly mission reports were due on Friday, and between the fact checking and the grammar checks and the sorting away, you’d spent an hour extra at work. It wasn’t a bad thing though, as you got paid overtime and the bulk of the work was sorting away the new reports. However, your late night work antics meant that by the time you left the office, the parking lot was dead dark, and you clutched your pepper spray as you made your way to your car. 

Humming to yourself, just some annoying song one of your coworkers had been playing all day, you walked past the security booth leading into the parking lot. 

A noise behind you made you spin around, heart beating overly fast. The noise sounded distinctly like the security booth door opening. Your finger itched on the pepper spray trigger, getting ready. 

You continued towards your car, now on high alert. With the security Statesman had, you were fairly certain whoever was around wasn’t a huge threat to your safety, but you had to be certain. More than likely, it was just Tom, the security guard who usually sat in the booth. He left sometimes, to grab food or take a bathroom break. You took a breath, trying desperately to convince yourself it was just Tom. 

When you finally had your car in sight, you heard footsteps behind you, falling in line with yours. They were heavy, heavier than Tom’s, and they were regular, masked slightly by the sound of your own. Whoever was behind you was trying to hide their steps. Squaring your shoulders, heart beating loudly in your ears, you whirled around and immediately sprayed your pepper spray. There was no time to assess the threat, you just prayed your aim was true. 

It, thankfully, was. Your target, however, was not who you expected. 

“Whiskey?” 

Agent Whiskey, or Jack as he preferred around the office, was standing in front of you, his face and shirt bright orange as he attempted to process the fact that you’d just pepper sprayed him. 

“Oh my god!” You said, panicking as you realized what you’d just done. “I am so sorry!” 

Jack made a pained noise as the spray took its effect, and you immediately jumped into action. “C’mon,” you said, putting an arm around him. “I am so sorry,” you added again.

He didn’t respond. You sighed, slightly worried that this could be the end of your career. After all, you’d just pepper sprayed one of Statesman’s best agents. A mistake like that was pretty damn big. 

By the time you had him back in the building, Jack’s eyes were swollen shut and his face was soaking wet from the tears he was involuntarily crying. He couldn’t talk, so you simply busied yourself with setting him in a medical exam room and searching for what you needed. 

You’d gone through the paperwork on these rooms and their set up so many times that you knew every square inch of the space. And all the receipts for medical purchases went through you as well, meaning you also knew exactly what was stocked. 

Thankfully, Statesman had what you needed within reach, and it took you almost no time at all to find the nondescript bottle of saline solution and put it on the countertop. Along with that, you put on gloves, just to protect your hands. 

You carefully, while describing your actions so as not to send Jack into a panic, took his hat and jacket off and led him to the tiled corner of the room with the eye wash station. 

“I’m going to spray your face with this saline solution,” you said, uncapping the bottle. “It’s cold, but not super cold. It should help for when we flush the spray off your face with water.” As you explained, Jack shuffled on his feet, clearly eager to make the pain subside. 

“Three,” you said warningly, rolling the bottle back and forth in your hands, hoping you could warm the liquid a bit. 

“Two.” Jack tensed, although whether it was out of pain or anticipation, you had no idea. You could only hope it was anticipation. 

“One.” You sprayed the liquid all across Jack’s face, although it was more like splashing him with water from a cup. The saline solution dripped down his face and onto his shirt, mixing with the tears he’d shed. You put the bottle down, expertly guiding Jack over the eye wash station and turning it on. 

“Fifteen minutes,” you said, taking your gloves off and dumping them into the trash. “At least. After that, we’ll wait for your eyes to open and give you a rest period to let the burn subside, which could take a while, but should resolve itself in an hour or so.” 

Jack ended up needing a break around the eight minute mark, leaning back and taking multiple deep breaths, his eyes still shut and his throat still pretty much unusable. He rasped out a few words about his stained shirt, and you took the break in eye rinsing to help him take his shirt off and have him wash his hands. Once that was done, he went right back to the eye wash station to complete his time. 

Once Jack’s fifteen minutes were up, you helped him sit down and dry off, his eyes still swollen shut. Thankfully, his throat was starting to clear, and he was able to talk to you. 

“How in the hell?” He rasped. “I didn’t know you worked here in medical.” 

“I don’t.” You put the mostly empty saline bottle away, making a note on the whiteboard near the door that the room needed more. “I do the paperwork. I just happened to have to pull papers on an accident involving pepper spray today, and had to Google how to relieve the burn to fact check the papers. This room is familiar because I keep track of all the supplies and blueprints. Really, I just know a lot about everything that goes on in this building.” 

Jack took a breath. “Fuck.” 

You laughed. “Sure. Fuck.” 

Grabbing a few tissues, you carefully wiped away the residual tears and water off Jack’s face. His eyes blinked open, still red and swollen, but not too bad anymore. 

“Hey,” you said happily, glad to see his eyes open. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Like shit,” Jack muttered, raising a hand to rub his face, but you caught his wrist before he could. 

“Don’t rub,” you warned. “That’ll make it worse.” 

Jack nodded. “How long before the burn stops?” 

You shrugged, thinking back to the pepper spray paperwork. “An hour. But you probably won’t be fully recovered until tomorrow.” 

Sighing, Jack leaned back. “I guess we’re gonna be stuck here a while.” 

Eventually, you grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cool water, laying it across Jack’s eyes. The swelling was, thankfully, going down, as was the redness. His eyes had finally stopped watering as well, meaning he was mostly able to see again. 

As Jack’s face got better, you two talked. Not about anything important, just simple things that could distract Jack. You learned he had a ranch, and he eagerly told you about his cow. 

“Her name is Bella,” he said, showing you a photo on his phone. You smiled. Bella was absolutely beautiful, with soft looking tan fur and big brown eyes. “She’s a highland cow, which is why she’s so fluffy.” 

“I didn’t know you had pets,” you said, sitting back and checking your watch. “Bella’s adorable.” 

Jack shrugged, putting his phone back into his pocket. “I inherited most of it from my brother,” he explained. “He died a while back, right as I joined Statesman. Mom always expected to get the ranch, but my brother said she didn’t have the heart for it. So he left it to me.” 

“Huh.” You stood, dusting yourself off. “Does your mother suck?” 

“Nah,” Jack responded. “She’s just not very motherly.” 

You laughed. “Well that explains it. We should probably get going, by the way. It’s getting late.” 

So you and Jack walked out to the parking lot, you silently fiddling with your keys. 

“Can I drive you home?” You blurted, watching Jack head off towards where the Bronco was parked. 

He stopped, turning back to you. “Pardon?” 

“I’m just worried your eyes aren’t up to scratch yet,” you elaborated, nervousness making you shuffle your feet. “And I’d feel better if I got to drive you home.” 

Jack shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.” 

As he got into your car, he looked around, impressed. “What kinda car is this?” 

“A mustang. Shelby Cobra to be specific.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Is it a ‘67?” 

“Yep.” You busied yourself with backing out, the old mechanics of the car a familiar comfort to you. 

“Huh.” Jack leaned back. “Impressive.” 

You smiled, waving to Tom, who was in the security booth. “Thank you. It was my dad’s, but he gave it to me because I helped him repair it when I was young. Where’s your house?” 

Jack put his address into his phone, putting it on the dash and maxing the volume so you could hear the directions. 

“So why’d you pepper spray me?” He asked eventually, breaking the silence. 

You snorted. “Why were you sneaking up on me in the middle of the night?” 

“I had a question.” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, making a turn. “What question?” 

Jack fiddled with his jacket zipper, seemingly nervous. “Just wanted to ask about my paperwork. Ginge needed to know when my last eye exam was, and she told me to find you.” 

You laughed. “It couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?” You asked. “Also, it was three years ago.” 

“How in the fuck?” 

“Champ needed your file yesterday so he could compare your sharpshooting record to one of the other agent’s scores,” you explained. “And on my way back down to the records room, I read it over. It’s a long walk and I needed some entertainment.”

Jack shook his head in disbelief, a small smile on his lips. “You are unbelievable.” 

You grinned, turning and pulling into Jack’s ranch. “I’m fairly certain being unbelievable is my job,” you pointed out, putting the car in park. 

As Jack opened the car door, you heard excited mooing and saw a dark figure racing over. 

“Bella!” Jack said eagerly, petting the cow the same way one would pet a dog. “Hey darlin’. How’s the ranch?” 

Bella mooed again, headbutting your car. 

You got out, coming around to scratch Bella’s ears. She butted into you too, sending you back a couple of steps. 

“Be nice,” Jack scolded playfully, shaking a finger at Bella. “This is a guest!” 

Bella mooed yet again and trotted off. 

“I’m sorry about her,” Jack said, turning to you. “She’s a people cow.” 

You merely shook your head, laughing. “It’s fine. By the way, is there any way I can make tonight up to you? I did kinda pepper spray you. Can I make that right somehow?” 

Jack chuckled, leaning on a fence post. “Come ‘round here again tomorrow at six. Wear something nice.” 

“Are you asking me out?” Of all the things you expected, this was not it. 

“Yeah,” Jack said. “What’d you say? Please keep in mind I was pepper sprayed an hour ago.” 

You snorted, getting back into your car and putting the window down. “It’s a date.” 

As you backed out of Jack’s ranch, he waved at you, and you waved back. 

Once you reached your own house, you fell onto your couch and eagerly texted Ginger, telling her about your upcoming date. Within seconds, she was calling you. 

“What?” You asked, giggling and heading into your kitchen for a glass of water. 

Ginger took a deep breath. “Did you just score a date with Jack goddamn Daniels?” 

“Yeah?” You said, leaning against your counter. “I mean, I kinda pepper sprayed him first, but yeah, I got a date!” 

There was a pause. And then, 

“I’m sorry, did you say you pepper sprayed him!?”

[slythraco]

Hey I just read your sfw Tom ABC’s and I gotta ask any chance we can get a NSFW ABC’s for Tom? 🙊🙈😍 obsessed with your writing and just discovered you!!

Author's note: Here it is ! I hope you’ll like it ! I’m all very new to writing smut so i really think i could’ve done better but i guess it’s with practice that i’ll get better ! Anyway, have fun ! Also, I took the alphabet from @malfycs you can find it here (Btw, her NSFW alphabet about Draco is crazy ! I recommend reading it if you haven’t already and you like spice !

Warnings: 🔴+18🔴, This thing is all about sex so if you're under 18 please don't read it !

Words count: 1,5K

Masterlist

______________

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Tom loves to cuddle you after such an intimate moment. He always covers you in kisses and caresses to make you feel loved. He also tells you a bunch of cute words in your ear, never falling to make you fall a little more in love with him.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

His eyes, for sure. It's the first thing people see in him, and it's normal because they are incredibly beautiful. He knows the power he holds when he looks right into your eyes and loves to see you get lost in them.

And for you, It's hard for him to choose one favourite part of your body since he likes every single inch of you but you would bet that he particularly likes your belly, at night we're your cuddling on the bed or in the couch, he always lay his head on your tummy while you play with his blond hair. He also always leaves kisses all over it, which never fail to tickles you and he loves hearing your laughter when he does this.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

Tom biggest fear is that you'll feel degraded during sec so when he feels the need to cum he'll completely refuse to cum on your face on in your mouth if you don't give your consent to it. Otherwise, he'll cum in you or on your belly.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Tom secretly the biggest dream is to go around the world with you and have sex in the most beautiful places. He already imagines himself eating you up on a beach of Hawaii or Bahamas, making you love in a bedroom with view of the Eiffel Tower, pounding in and out of you while your moaning resonate in the lanes of Berlin.

He'll propose the idea to you soon enough.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

It might not seem like it, but, Tom knows what he's doing. At least after making a few times, your first time together was really banal and clumsy because of the level of stress Tom was enduring, but he was already so much better the second time.

Why ? You may ask, because he remembers EVE-RY-THING. He studies all your reactions and notes in a small corner of his head all of yours weak spots and things that makes you go crazy. Trust me, after a few times, Tom is completely able to make you come in a matter of seconds if he wants to.

And the more you have sex the more it gets better since he's always searching for a new spot to exploit to make you come for him.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Tom's favourite position probably the missionary, he finds it perfect. As a shy and romantic guy in bed he loves the intimacy and the proximity of it. He can easily kiss you while he makes love to you, or kiss your neck to make you even more crazy. He can also look at your beautiful face screaming his name, which drives him insane.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Tom is globally serious with you're having sex, but he can crack a joke once in a while to take the pressure off. Especially before it actually begin. He'll bring a bad pick-up line often inspired by Harry Potter like "Would you let me Slyther-in tonight ?" Is his favourite one so far, he used it a lot, but he always tries to find new ones.

H = Hot Spots (Places that drive them crazy)

Definitely his thighs or his neck, every time your hands touch his thighs he can't help but jump a bit and looking at your hand to make sure you don't move it too far in front of people because this shit can turn him on in a matter of seconds.

And his neck because when you're starting to kiss it or bite on it, he can turn into a totally different person. You can say bye to the pure and cute Tom to leave room for a dominant and nasty version of him which can be surprising at first.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspects)

Well, there is two Toms. The really romantic and gentle Tom and the dominant and rough Tom it really depends in his and your mood on the moment.

He'll either be really loving, covering you with kisses and caresses for you to fell like the most precious thing in his eyes which you are. He'll do everything to make you feel all the power of his love, and he loves to hold your hands while making it.

Or, he'll turn into the unknown version of him. If he's mad at something, nervous or you two have been away for a long time, he'll become rough and dominant. Shocking, slaps (on your butt) and even love marks to remind you who you belong to.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He only does it when he's away from you for a film otherwise when you're around him there is no need to do it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Something Tom loves to do is to take ice between his lips and trace a line on your body. Seeing the block of ice melting on your warm skin drives him crazy. And you, you love the contrast of the cold feeling on your body, it makes you even more turned on.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Simple but your bed, you both like to be comfortable and the bed is the best place to be.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Something that can go crazy in less than a second is when you clearly ask him to fuck you. With that, Tom wouldn't a second to get you undressed to satisfy your wishes. When you kiss him languorously too, which can be a problem sometimes when you are in public and your kisses give him an erection.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Don't you ever think of having him touching your feet. He hates it. And like mention before he doesn't like a situation where you could feel degraded, so you can cross out BDSM, he doesn't like the idea of being violent (more than just give you a slap on your ass), he doesn't find anything exciting about it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) He likes both to be honest, he doesn't really have a preference, he loves when you suck his cock it always makes him feel extremely good and make you realise it with his moans. But he also loves to hear you moans his name as he eats you up, and you just taste so good he could do it all day.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Like mentioned before, it depends on Tom's mood.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It's not his favourite way of having sex, but he doesn't mind it if you don't have much time, and he's really horny. Quickies happen a lot when he's promoting a new film, since during these period he doesn't have a lot of free time you two manage to have quick sex between two interviews.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Yes ! A lot of Tom's first time were with you, he's always up to try new things with you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Tom can honestly last really long, he knows how to keep himself from cumming

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

The only toy Tom own is a connected vibrator. One he asked you to put it in, and you went to a dinner together. Let me tell you, he had so much fun making it vibrate at the most random moments to see you keep yourself from moaning in front of everyone, and he found it so fucking sexy. You probably had the best sex night after that.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does it all the time, he would slip some nasty words in the crook of your ear to make you shiver before disappearing. Or something else he loves to do is to snog with you until you almost do it but then get up and do something completely different, he finds it so funny when you get mad but also so hot, so he never teases for a long time before he actually fuck you mercilessly.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Tom definitively makes some sounds in the sheets, he likes you to know how good you make him feel. He's also really vocal at the moment, telling all kinds of dirty things in your ears. "Just like that." ; "You make me feel so good darling." ; "You're so tight." ; "You're so beautiful." ; "Continu like that." And that's only a little part of what he can tell you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Tom doesn't stop after you had an orgasm, actually, it makes him even more horny and will continue to fuck you until you have a few more. Otherwise, he doesn't feel like he did a good job.

X = X-Ray (What they look like under clothes)

Tom is a grower, I'd say about 6 inches at rest and almost 9 when he's hard. Also, his cock is long and thin, so he's definitely big enough to satisfy you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He never says no to a good romp, especially with you. He just can't contain himself when he's around you, you're just too damn desirable. He always feels the need to feel his naked body against yours.

Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly actually, he likes to cuddle and talk with after a such intimate moment. And he usually waits for you to be asleep before him before he can allow himself to do so.