#just worked out all my rage at the gym to Hot To GO on repeat for 25 minutes

[funkylittlebidiot]

The way Chappell Roan can just hit the spott

[hxnmantii]

Class 1-A and their car habits

tw: crack/fluff, cursing

People: Bakugo, Shoto, Izuku, Sero, Kiri, iida, Mina x mostly gn!reader (Mina is the only one that’s implied female!reader)

Ratings: PG

A/n: yuuhh get into💋 I personally would like to ride with Shoto. I just wanna hold his hand👉🏾👈🏾 but not on no simp shit. Originally, this was going to be just boys but who would I be if my gay self didn’t add the queen herself? Anyways, Who would you like to ride with?

Bakugo~

Bakugo does that sexy ass thing where he drives with one hand on the wheel and one hand on your thigh and when you don’t pay him enough attention he’ll lightly squeeze your thigh. This man does NOT share the aux....his stingy ass. He says he doesn’t wanna listen “to your trash music” but will play bxmb threat and NBA Youngboy at full capacity with the windows down. If you beg enough maybe he’ll play 1 Nicki song. But he will throw a fit and act like he doesn’t like Nicki even though he knows all of the lyrics. Altough he’s really uptight about his car, he enjoys driving and picking up the Bakusquad in it because he likes to feel useful and needed. No doubt about it, this man has road rage. He’s screaming outside the window and in the car about how someone cut him off and when someone screams back him, he’s like “Pull over right now cuz those sound like fighting words to me.” Now y’all in the back of a cop car and 30 minutes late to your dinner date. You are not, I repeat, you are NOT allowed to even think about eating in his car unless he’s got that plastic wrapping on his car. He treats his car so good (at some point you think he likes the care better than you) her name is Bethany. I-

Shoto~

Shoto has one hand on the wheel and one hand in your hand, stroking your hand from time to time and kissing the back of it. He had a sleek gray sliver car with a sunroom (he never actually uses) that goes fast and he likes going real fast because what they gon do, give him a ticket??? When his dad the number one hero??? Try again. He’s also the type to flick off the cops as he driving by because ACAB. He’s always wearing a gold Rolex and you got your nails done so when you hold his, the acrylics compliment his hand and watch.(like the pictures from Pinterest) You guys ride in comfortable silence. It’s so calming riding with him because although you’re slightly anxious with how fast he’s going, you’re at somewhat ease because he’s doing it so smoothly and you trust him. His windows are tinted because once again he’s the son of a pro hero and people are nosy, neither you or him like that. Although you don’t really need the assistance with Shoto being a living AC and heater in one, his seats have buttons for each seat and you can warm your bum. His car had the clean car smell...it just smells really clean. He’s got a bunch of condiments and napkins in his glove department. He doesn’t know where they came from. His whole vibe in his car is rich and elegant. He gets his car professional wash every Tuesday and you are required to come.

Kirishima

Kiri’s got a big ass red GMC truck and he gave the truck these monster wheels so it’s a force to be reckoned with. Her name is Sophie and like Bakugo, he loves her dearly but makes it clear to you that he’s love you more than her. He does the sexy ass thing where he’s got one hand on the wheel and one hand tightly holding on to your head rest so his arms flexing and he’s backing up with a concentrated look. that is so hot to me. He’s got a sticker on the back that says “honk if you’re manly” . He definitely would let you take the aux because you guys made a playlist of songs you chose together. He would be the type to start dancing when a good song came on, almost hitting someone in the process because he took both hands off the steering wheel out of excitement. He’s got road rage but not enough to actually start shouting or flicking someone off. In the trunk of Kirishima’s car, he’s got at least 5 different protein bottles as well a case of water and some jump rope. He says “You never know when I’ll need it to work out” but he has his personal gym?? Anyways, he has a specific section in his closet for red button ups because he likes to match Sophie when he drives her😭 I hate to say it but Kiri looks like a hill billy especially since he’s got those shoulder cut out button ups. He’s cute with it and he’s happy so you somewhat tolerate it

Midoriya

Izuku has more of a family car like a soccer mom car or a dark green Ford explore because he likes to pick everybody up to hang out and he needs space since he’s got a lot of them. Not to mention, he also likes to cruise and enjoy his time with you no matter where y’all go because we all know this man is a simppp. At every stop light, he’s gently grabbing your face and either kissing you on your cheek or forehead. He tried giving you a kiss on the lips once but he got so caught on the feeling that he ended up holding up the line and everybody was honking and made at him. He was so embarrassed that he now waits til you guys get to your destination to do all that extraness. Being the big fan he is, naturally he has some All might themed seatbelts and has all might stickers all over his steering wheel. He also has little all Might figurine on his dashboard that he prays to get him out of car trouble. Genuinely think it’s works too. Izuku in his trunk has a bunch of workout gear and gaze cuz he’s sexy like that. He does not have road rage at all....maybe a little. He might flick someone off but that’s as far as it goes. He definitely gives you the aux because he loves watching how lively you get it. (Y/n) “Do you know your Megan baby?”🥰 (ZuZu) “Y-yes?”

Iida

Now hear me out...Iida has a motorcycle. He’s got a need for speed that cars can’t really fufill because you can’t weave through other cars like a motorcycle can. His motorcycle has the highest tech on it naturally. It’s all black but has lights underneath it so he can change it by phone and ofc it’s always blue. You guys also have matching helmets that are Bluetooth so you’re able to talk to one another without having to yell very much. When you guise stop, he rubbing your arms to make sure that you’re okay and/if you need to pull over. Now when he’s not riding the motorcycle he’s got a Tesla. He preaches about the law and following the rules but when he get in the car, that’s a different story. With him you better either hold on tight to him or you better get double seat belt buckles for extra protection because he’s about to try and race the flash. (And you thought Shoto was bad) You get out thanking the universe for letting you touch ground again. Iida got the type of car that if you even breathe incorrectly around it, it’s going off and waking up the whole damn neighborhood. When iida first got his car, he read everything up on it so he would be fully able to use the car to its full potiential meaning that he’s got Siri set up, he can lock the door from his car, and watch the cameras on his house through the screen of his car. The Bluetooth is automatically connected to his phone so no you will not be getting the aux but you can play some tunes form his phone. He’ll even make you a playlist on Apple Music with his rich self.

Sero

Sero’s got a red convertible with tan seats and the weather allows it, his top is always down. His car always smells so good because he uses the wild cherry air freshener in his car. He blasts bad bunny and daddy Yankee as y’all are cruising slightly over the speed light. He also likes blasting Ski Mask. He’s the type to sing you the words while gently holding your face and singing to you with a lovey dovey smile on his face. He’s very respectful and turns down his music when entering neighborhoods because he doesn’t wanna mess with the vibes. You two have matching glasses that says queen/ king on yours and king on his. He definitely has some throw dice hanging from his mirror along with a picture of you and him taped to his dashboard cuz he’s also a simp. He’s always has a packet of Extra gum in his middle console along with warm water bottles. If police pulls him over, he definitely the type to start flirting with him so the officer just to make him uncomfortable enough to let him off with a warning. For a fact, he has the Puerto Rican flag on the antenna of his car. He has Led lights and likes them to be colorful rather than on one color. Sero definitely jogs around the front to open the door for you because he’s a jester and a gentleman in one. His part of his car is that the top can go down solely for the fact that the sun always highlights your skins so well.

Mina

Do I even need to say anything about the Pink queen herself?? She has a cute pink steering wheel case with matching pink seats and ofc she has a bedazzled stick shift. She has a Jeep. She the type of person to has matching glasses with her interior and when you get in the car, she’s putting her music on shuffle: a dangerous move because you go from Brent Faiyaz to Jhene Aiki to fucking Cardi B, Flo Mili, and etc. When you unbuckle your seat to start twerking in the seat, she’s automatically going to start hyping you up. She’s got one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on your ass smacking it as you fuck it up in the passenger seat. Y’all are literally swerving from side to side and let’s be honest here, Mina is not that good of a driver so you have almost gotten in an accident multiple times. She’s the type to pull over to take cute selfies or videos with you and post them all at once captioning it with “Late nights w/bae”. Underneath seat she an emergency packet filled with makeup, clothes, hair and first aid kit supplies. Although she’s not the best driver, she takes the rules really serious because she would hate to have an accident with you in the car. Like Sero, She has led lights in her car but they only flash pink. Mina is the queen of putting falsies on so she would mostly definitely put yours on (without tweezers) once you park as well as do your edges if you ask. She just has that talent. *chefs kiss* amazing

Reblogs are appreciated!

A/n: I’m lyin I definitely would be riding with Bakugo because I have major passenger rod rage lol and you definitely don’t wanna get your ass beat TWICE

[darkfearsandkittyears]

Y'all, it's Whumptober! I'm super excited!

Okay, uh...funny story [and super embarrassing for me] I am a highly unorganized person, I have a calendar in my room, but it's so much easier to check the date on the huge calendar in the kitchen! So, I calculated the days till October in August, and promptly forgot to write prompts and outlines, [even though I pants most of my works].

Fast forward to today, when I see my mom writing down the October events. I was like, oh, she's just reminding herself for next month.

Then I realized.

I literally forgot that September comes right before October.

I literally thought that I had another month to plan ideas.

One of you come whack me on the head, I really need it.

Anywho, let's get on with the show!!

"Come on, Damian! Reach for it." Jason dangled Damian's bottle, inches from the baby's hands. Damian whined and stretched his arms out as far as they would go, attempting to snatch his bottle.  Jason smiled at the child. "Scoot forward. Like this." He demonstrated, pulling his body along with his arms.  Damian stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, then cooed a little.  "Yeah, it looks whack. But come on." Jason shrugged and put the bottle down, wagging Damian's little toy dog instead. On what planet did this qualify as a dog? It looked more like a deformed elephant.  The woman at the store had insisted it was a dog….he had to get Damian some more toys. All the parenting books said that babies needed good toys for development. "Come on buddy, get your..animal." Jason called. Damian laid his head on the quilt and sucked his thumb. Jason snapped a quick picture as the little boy nodded off, tuckered out by 'tummy time'. "Come on Dames, don't fall asleep just yet." Jason said, grunting as he got to his feet. The wound he'd sustained wasn't helping any, and the painkillers weren't working right, thanks to the pit.  Oh well.  "Come on kid, you can't fall asleep on your stomach." Jason rolled the sleepy baby over on his back. Big blue eyes batted up at him, laced with sleep.  Looked like Bruce, a little.  House of Wayne.  Once upon a time, Jason had wanted to use the kid as leverage...but this was a baby, and his brother. He'd realized that, but realized it a little late. Damian deserved to grow up, shielded from batdad's nonsense and in a world without Joker.  Godamn it, Talia was right.  Having a 'family' around him had cleared his head. And screwed up his plans. Majorly. But he wouldn't trade it for anything.  Besides, he'd nearly had Joker's brains splattered against the wall yesterday, right in front of Bruce's face.  He'd make them watch, make them all watch when he pulled the trigger on Joker. For himself. For Barbara.  For Damian. Maybe then, when Joker was dead, he'd present Damian to Bruce. Let Bruce wage war against the House of al Ghul while he and Damian ran for the hills. Then they'd double back and destroy both families. He couldn't kill Bruce, not until Damian was older. Jason was no Willis Todd, he was far from willing to force his brother into a life with no father. Picking sides would be Damian's choice, when he got older. But for now, it was Damian, Jason and Talia against the Joker and Batdad.  Not a hard fight.  Especially when Jason had the upper hand.  "We're gonna be just fine." Jason smiled down at the sleeping baby. "We're already winning." Damian's eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a tiny snore. Jason picked him up and transferred him to his playpen, then wandered out of the living room and into the bedroom that he'd converted into a gym.  A rumble of thunder burst through the room, and Jason paused, hoping it wouldn't wake Damian up. That was pretty loud, for thunder. The ground seemed to shake with the sound.  The pull up bar he'd installed yesterday clattered to the ground, and he flinched lightly as an image of a crowbar flashed before his eyes. It felt as if something had hit him in the back, but he chalked it up to imagination. He was probably imagining the fog around him too.  Some things Joker gave him, he could never get rid of.  But Damian began to cry, loud, hysterical wails that sent fear up Jason's spine. Another rumble broke through the air as Jason sprinted out of the room. A sickening crack ricocheted through the house, and Jason unwillingly moved to the left as something brushed his right shoulder.  A support beam.  "Damian!" Jason had never moved so fast, weaving past and through the falling drywall and wood. He was only feet away from the playpen when Damian's wails choked to a stop, as if someone had turned them off. Through the fog and falling objects, he reached into the playpen and curled around the child, shielding him with his body as he tried to find an exit.  Damian's body was limp in Jason's arms, not a cry or a coo. Jason risked a

glance at the child's closed eyes and pale, dust covered face. He shoved the blanket up to cover Damian's nose and rushed blindly into the direction of the doors. Behind him, a beam fell and what was left of the house shuddered.  An eerie feeling washed over Jason, settling right in the pit of his stomach. Everything went quiet, but Jason tensed, alert.  A hot burst of air slammed into his back, and he knew he'd been right to keep alert. Jason grunted as he was thrown into what was left of a wall, which crumbled, pinning his legs down. His mind fogged like a static TV, and he could feel warm air.  Fire.  Then realization hit.  Damian was no longer in his arms.  "Damian. Damian!" His throat was raw, coated in drywall dust and dirt. But he yelled on, hoping, needing to hear anything from the rubble.  But there wasn't a sound.  Jason pulled his leg from under the rubble and plowed through it to the best of his abilities, climbing over and under and around piles of garbage that had once been a house. There was an odd feeling in his leg, the only other thought that wasn't an urgent repeat of, "Find Damian!". But he quickly suppressed the feeling, because through the fog and dust and smoke, a tiny hand protruded from under a beam. Jason attempted to lift it, but couldn't. Damian was trapped under an air pocket, but any wrong movement would send it all crashing atop him.  A lever.  Jason searched desperately for a board or pole to use as a lever, but saw nothing. But then his eyes scanned over his own leg, and he had to look back at it.  His foot was quite literally facing the wrong way. The odd feeling vanished and became a sharp pain that nearly took his breath away.  Focus, Jason. The League had trained him as a sniper, and he was good at it. He excelled, even.  But all snipers knew how to do one thing. Hyperfixate. And that skill, with the help of adrenaline, might just save both his and Damian's lives.  Jason looked around the room once again, eyeing the position of the beam that Damian was under. If he could manage to get across the rubble, he could crawl into the air pocket and rescue Damian. Jason pulled his body up and over rubble, ignoring the extreme pain that was now burning through his body. At some point, that white agony would get the best of him, but for now, adrenaline was masking most of it.  "Damian!" Jason called again, nearly falling over a piece of wall. His broken leg slammed into a sheet of metal, which dislodged. The beam began sliding, and Jason screamed, unwillingly. He felt his legs propelling him towards where his brother lay, and he pulled Damian into his arms and cringed as the beam fell down around them.  "Damian...Dames." Jason panted as the dust settled, smoothing the dirt off his brother's pale face. The baby was too pale. He had to get him out of here. The falling rubble was controlling the fire, but smoke inhalation would kill them. And Damian had been unconscious for far too long, but there wasn't a single scratch on the child to evidence any injuries. Jason growled in frustration. "Damn it!" His entire body hurt, his leg most of all. Adrenaline was wearing off...the pain was mixing with the green light of the pit, and together they nearly blinded him.  Rage, and pain. Great combination.  He looked around for a way out. It was like a grave. Tight, and hard to breathe.  No Jason.  No.  His breath caught, and he knew he'd just screwed up. There wasn't enough air in his lungs, and he could breathe it in quickly enough. He clutched Damian to his chest and tried to get in a breath, to no avail.  Whimpers punctuated his breath, and the rational part of him could have laughed at himself.  But he couldn't. Whimpers turned to screams, and nothing made sense anymore. He screamed the only name he knew would come for him. "Bruce! Bruce, please!" He could hear his own screams dying out, feel himself losing a grip on consciousness. "Dad! Dad...Bruce…" His voice rasped into a whisper, and he gritted his teeth. "Batman! Dad! I need you! Please...please dad!"  Not a soul

stirred.  "That's right. He's not coming for you." Joker whispered sadistically.  Jason shook his head desperately, tears mixed with blood running down his face. "Shut up, you stupid clown! Please! Bruce. Bruce! Please!"  Like a miracle on Christmas eve, a ray of light shone into their prison, and a familiar shadow fell across Jason, along with another pound of dust. Damian wailed, and Jason shielded himself and the child against the dust, then spiraled into an exhausted darkness.  Four hours later, he pulled himself out of the pit of unconsciousness. "Dami?" Jason slurred, exhausted.  "He's fine, Jay. With Alfred."  That voice.  Jason made an attempt to bolt upright, only to find that he was secured to the bed.  "You have two broken legs, five ribs, son." Bruce muttered, undoing the restraints.  They must have given him some hefty painkillers, since he could feel nothing. "Call me son again-" Jason snarled, his voice cracked and dry. "How am I your son, if you had the nerve to let him live?! I gave you the choice last night, Bruce. Save me, or save him. You threw a batarang at my throat instead."  "Jason-" Bruce looked wounded, his jaw working with words he didn't know how to say.  "No! You don't get to "Jason" me. Not after what you did. You don't deserve to have your son."  "Jason."  Jason looked up at Bruce. "What?"  "I put a batarang in your throat?"  Disbelief surged through Jason. "You didn't know? All those years of aiming those damn things, and you didn't know?" Bruce's face was as stone cold as ever. "No." Jason had probably imagined the look of sorrow on his father's face. It wasn't like Jason meant anything to him anymore. "It only nicked me, lucky for you. Doesn't even matter, I'm alive. Surprising, isn't it? You wanted me dead and him alive. What, you got a crush on him?" He looked away, unwilling to meet Bruce's eyes.  "I hate him, Jason. I just can't kill him."  "You screwed me over Bruce. All this," Jason gestured to himself, "Is your fault."  "You have a son, Jason." Bruce said softly.  "He's not my son. He's my brother." Jason replied, tone dark. "He's your son."  There was a dead silence that almost resonated. Jason chanced a look at Bruce.  For once in his life, the man looked truly stunned.  Did he break him? "Bruce…?"  "Talia's child?" Bruce whispered.  "Yes." A sudden whim forced him to add, "And you can't have him. You're not going to get him killed too." "I wasn't going to make him a Robin."  "Cut the bullcrap, Bruce!" Jason screamed, startling both himself and Bruce. "Yeah, maybe I almost got us both killed, but I've never put a gun or a batarang in his hand and told him to throw it!"  Bruce hesitated before speaking. "It wasn't your fault. The city was destroying a building, and the explosion shook the foundation of other buildings. I couldn't get to you two as quickly as I should have. I'm sorry, Jaybird." Bruce sighed. Sorry. Sorry doesn't cut it, Bruce, Jason wanted to say. "Whatever, Bruce.", was all that came from his throat. "Not the first time you've forgotten me, anyways."  "If I had known-"  Rage surged through Jason. "Save it! Why the hell is he still alive? That's my only question. Why. Isn't. He. Dead? Don't kill him. Fine. But let me kill him. Look at Barbara! Isn't what he did to me enough?! When will it be enough, Bruce? When he murders Damian?" Hands gripped Jason's shoulders, and he stopped his tirade. "Son…" Bruce began, then stopped. Jason could feel his face crumple, not a word slipping past his dry lips. "I can't kill him, Jason. I can't let myself go off that edge. "You failed me, Bruce. When will it be enough?"  Bruce didn't answer. Jason swallowed against the knot in his throat and spoke roughly. "I just want him dead. All I ever wanted was to make you proud...then you left me with him. That, the abandonment, it doesn't even hurt anymore, but I wanted you to kill him. For me." Jason's face twisted into a scowl that thankfully repressed the tears. "Make him die." He spat. "I can't, Jason. I'm sorry Jason. It's meaningless, but I'm

so sorry." Bruce looked physically pained.  He's acting, Jason told himself. "If you're sorry, don't let him hurt anyone else."  "I can't promise that."  "I know you can't. But I can!" Jason yelled, finally. But instead of his rage getting the best of him, it all just evaporated. He felt nauseated, as if someone had punched him in the gut. But all he vomited up were words, words that he shouldn't say. "All I ever wanted was to make you proud...then you left me with him. I don't care about that...but didn't you care about me?"  Bruce's expression darkened to something that Jason had never seen before. "I put the Joker in a body cast for a year. That permanent limp he has is evidence of it. I couldn't bring myself to murder him, because in his dead eyes, all I saw was myself in him. And it was all too peaceful. He tortured you for months. I'll torture him for the rest of his life." Bruce said the words like a vow, determination lacing his tone. Jason stared straight ahead in shock. Silence settled over the room.  "You-when was Joker dead?" Jason finally asked, almost dreading the answer.  "Dick killed him when he found out what happened. I couldn't let him live with the remorse, so I revived him." "Dick….killed him." Jason repeatedly slowly, almost dumbly. He wanted to feel anger that Bruce had brought the damn clown to life, but he couldn't.  "He always had a temper." Bruce said lamely.  Oh great, both of them were shutting down their emotions and verbalization. "Didn't think he'd go that far." "I did. He loves you, Jason."  "Don't talk to me about Grayson. He managed to do what I've been trying to do." Jason managed a rough laugh. "Isn't it funny, Bruce?" Bruce only stared at him, a near pitiful expression on his face.  It wasn't until Bruce hugged him that Jason realized that there were hot tears streaking down his cheeks. Slowly, Jason hugged back, blinking back the stinging wetness of his eyes.  This, all this 'emotional seminar with the Batman' was a total mistake. So Jason let go of Bruce and pushed him a little to regain personal space.  Bruce unsurprisingly was fine with taking back his boundaries. "You're doing alright, Jaylad. You took in a son that wasn't yours and you're raising him."  "I took him in for all the wrong reasons." Jason bit his tongue. "And what are your reasons now?"  "Touchè."  Parents...and adoptive older brothers make mistakes with kids. They fail them and screw them up. But Jason's mistakes with Damian could be fixed.  Jason couldn't. Not until the clown died. "You can always make the present better than the future." Bruce said.  Dammit, old man. "Whatever." Valid points.  Very valid points. "Who else trained you in manipulation?"  Bruce just looked confused. Either this was more manipulation, or Bruce being bipolar by the days.  Whichever one, Jason would try his luck. It was a mistake, destined for disaster.  But he just couldn't help himself.

[creativewritingpracticestudio]

Best Served Cold(Izzy Stradlin x Reader)[Smut]

@vixen-in-my-dreams thank you for the creative request! I loved this one :) also @80snikki <333

Description: It’s a hot day, so you decide to enjoy a delicious popsicle, right in front of your boyfriend. It’s nothing to you, just an innocent treat. To Izzy, however, it’s the biggest tease on the planet. Let’s just say, the popsicle isn’t the only thing that’s gonna be in your mouth today.

Warnings: Blowjobs, male masturbation, sexual innuendos, teasing, cursing

Guns N Roses Taggers: @curly-hudson @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @holyjunkie @overlyobsessedfangirl @slashevilsister @agroupiewhore @comawhxte666 @julessworldd

“Izzy, why did the goddamn air conditioning have to stop working on the hottest day of the fucking year? Why? Just fucking great.”

You crossed your arms and pouted, staring over at your broken air conditioning with an angry glare. Izzy, who was strumming his guitar and sitting in the recliner, simply shrugged his shoulders. “Shitty luck, I guess.” You sighed, pulling at the collar of your shirt in an attempt to lessen the humidity, but you could already feel the sweat forming on your forehead.

“I’m gonna sue the AC company, Iz. They’re gonna feel my fucking wrath.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Good luck with that, baby.” You glowered at the floor. This really was a terrible day for the AC to break down. It was pushing 85 degrees outside, and now it was even worse in your apartment. How your boyfriend wasn’t pouring sweat himself was a mystery; after all, he was in long pants and a button-up shirt.

But your boyfriend was usually cool as a cucumber anyway. You weren’t nearly as calm about these kinds of things. After another minute of feeling your clothes practically sticking to your body, you were fed up. You got up so quickly you almost knocked your chair over, making a beeline for your bedroom. You threw off your heavy clothing and changed into the smallest pair of gym shorts and a tank top you could find. “That’s a little bit better.”

Unfortunately, even skimpy clothing didn’t seem to be enough to stop your insides from overheating. Fuck. Time for plan B. You hurried back out, walking past the living room where Izzy was still sitting. He glanced up from his guitar and raised an eyebrow at your outfit, but quickly turned back to his strumming. You hurried to the freezer, scanning the shelves for the coldest item you could get your hands on.

Your eyes landed on the box of popsicles, and you grinned victoriously. “Yes! Fuck, yes, thank God I didn’t eat them all last night.” You quickly grabbed the box and rifled through it until you found your favorite flavor. “Bingo.” Holding the frozen treat in your hands instantly cooled you down, and you put the box back and walked back into the living room, plopping down on the couch with a triumphant grin on your face.

“Izzy, look what I got!” You waved the popsicle around, and he looked up. “Wow, a popsicle. Cool, baby.” You rolled your eyes at his plainly unenthusiastic reply, and went to open it, throwing the wrapper down on the table and immediately sticking it in your mouth. “Fuck, that’s better. It’s so cold.” You licked the top of it, and then licked a stripe up the side. Izzy briefly glanced up at you, looked back down, and then did a double take. Holy shit.

You looked up from your treat to see Izzy staring at you, eyes trained on your lips. “Something wrong, baby?” He didn’t speak, just slowly shook his head and went back to strumming his guitar. When you were once again distracted with the popsicle, he looked back up. Your lips were wrapped around the top of the popsicle, and you slowly sucked out the juice, sucking in your cheeks as you did. You licked it up the side again, tongue swirling around the top, and Izzy instantly went hard.

He glanced down, grimacing at the obvious bulge, and shifted his guitar so you wouldn’t see it. The idea of you knowing he was getting off on watching you eat a goddamn popsicle was embarrassing as all hell. His eyes drifted down to your exposed cleavage and tight shorts, and he bit his lip. Fuck, you were such a tease and you didn’t even realize it. When he looked up again, you were deepthroating the popsicle, and he felt his rock hard cock twitch.

He watched in awe as you took it all the way into your mouth, the juice from the popsicle coating your lips, and then slurped at it, taking it out of your mouth with a pop that was so obscene that he had to quietly slid his hand behind the guitar and palm himself through his jeans. You didn’t seem to take notice, so he did it once more, biting back a moan. You stopped and looked up at him, and he quickly pulled his hand away. “You want some, Izzy? I’ll share!”

You held the popsicle out to him, but he quickly declined. “Nah, baby, I’m good. You just keep, um, doing what you’re doing.” Izzy’s erection was almost painful at this point, so he pressed the back of his guitar against it and tried to subtly grind his bulge against the instrument to relieve the pressure; unfortunately for him, the sudden wave of pleasure was more than he anticipated, and a loud moan left his lips before he could bite it back or cover it with a cough.

You glanced up in concern, and he went red. “Izzy? Are you okay?” He nodded quickly, ignoring his painfully hard cock long enough to smile unconvincingly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, I just cut my finger on one of my guitar strings.” You frowned, placing your dripping popsicle on its wrapper on the table, and got up to walk over to him. “Really? Aw, poor thing, let me see!” Izzy covered his erection with the guitar and shook his head again. “No, it’s fine, baby.” Ignoring his protests, you grabbed his hand and examined his long fingers. “I don’t see a cut.”

Izzy pulled his hand away. “It’s there, it’s just small. I’m fine, baby, really. Go back to your popsicle.” You stared at him in concern. “Izzy, are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting really weird. Maybe you should take a break from that guitar and go take a nap or something.” You reached out to pull his guitar away from him, and he resisted. “No.” You frowned. “No? Izzy, come on, just take a little break, it won’t hurt anything-” You yanked the guitar from him, immediately exposing the bulge that stretched the front of his jeans, and quickly went silent.

Izzy, unsure of what to do, averted his eyes, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. You were silent for another moment, and then sheepishly handed him his guitar. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” He took it back, still beet-red, and covered himself once again. You stood there for another minute, shuffling from foot to foot. “How long has it been...you know?” Izzy pursed his lips. “Since you started eating that stupid fucking popsicle.” You grimaced. “Oh. Oh. I see. Sorry, baby. You could have told me, you know. I would have helped you out...with that.”

Izzy chuckled, feeling a little less embarrassed but still a bit awkward. “Wish I’d known that before I sat here with a stiffie for 10 minutes.” You laughed. “Yeah. Bet it hurts.” He nodded, considering the situation at hand for a moment. “So...is the offer still there, or did I miss my chance?” You smiled, quickly dropping to your knees, and he hurriedly placed his guitar on the floor to allow you better access. “Here, let me make it up to you, baby.” You unbuttoned his pants and unzipped his fly, reaching in and pulling out his bright red, raging erection.

He moaned softly as you rubbed your thumb over his leaking tip, repeating the motion before beginning to slowly pump his shaft with one hand. You moved your other hand to play with his balls, and he threw his head back and gripped the couch. “Fuck, baby, stop teasing and use your mouth already.” You obediently leaned down and took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it lightly and running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. Izzy fisted his hands into your hair and pulled you down farther, almost choking you with the tip.

You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you slowly took his entire length into your mouth, deepthroating and trying not to gag it as he bucked his hips up against your mouth. “Fuck, that’s good, baby, just like that.” Encouraged by the praise, you moved your head all the way down until your lips were around the base of his cock, moving a hand up to play with his balls as you did so. You could taste his precum in your mouth, and knew he was close. You pulled all the way off of his dick, eliciting a whine of protest from Izzy that was cut short when you rubbed his tip again.

“God, come on, don’t tease me baby. Put your mouth back on it, I’m so fucking close.” You decided to have mercy on your boyfriend and leaned back down to kiss the tip before swirling your tongue around it to lick up the precum. Izzy’s mouth fell open, his head leaning back against the couch, and his cock twitched in your mouth. You sucked harshly on the head, receiving the same reaction, and knew he was right on the edge of cumming. You wrapped both hands around his shaft and put what was left in your mouth, going down on until your lips met your hands and then pulling off and chasing your lips with your hands, effectively jacking him off and blowing him all at once.

It was one of Izzy’s favorite techniques, but it also took a while, and he was clearly more focused on finishing as fast as possible; he moved your hands away from his shaft, grabbed your hair in his fist, and shoved your head all the way down on his dick before pulling you off and repeating the movement, harshly face-fucking you and impulsively jerking his hips up. Saliva poured from the corners of your lips, slicking his cock up enough to speed up your movements, and his cock twitched again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna..”

You moaned on his cock, knowing it would push him over the edge, and sure enough, he threw his head back and moaned loudly as he came into your mouth, hips jerking with each spurt of cum as his grip tightened on your hair. When he finally finished, he released your hair from his grip and allowed you to pull away, swallowing his load and wiping your mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to slow his breathing and his heartbeat and he came down from his high. You rested your head on his thigh, and he looked down at you and smiled. “Thanks, baby.” You laughed. “Anytime. Next time, just ask me instead of acting like a weird-ass and hiding it.”

He nodded. “Deal.” Izzy got up, and helped you to your feet. “Well, I’m burning up now. Got any more popsicles in there?” Your eyes widened, and you looked over towards the table in horror. “Shit! My popsicle!” The frozen treat had melted and was now dripping off of the coffee table into a puddle on the floor. Izzy burst out laughing, and you pouted. “It’s not funny, Iz! That was a good popsicle....” Izzy wrapped his arm around your shoulder and smirked. “It’s fine, don’t worry, I’ll clean it up for you. Let’s go get you another one. Unless you want another taste of my popsicle.” You elbowed his side, and he laughed again. “In your dreams, Stradlin.”

[breakyeol]

Heart Glow | 01

masterlist

01 | 02

☆ pairing: chanyeol x reader | ft. baekhyun

☆ genre: alien AU, fluff, smut (next part)  

☆ summary: No, you didn’t witness an alien spacecraft crash in the middle of the woods. No, a half dead person’s heart did not start glowing. And no, that person was not an alien. Because aliens don’t exist… right?

☆ word count: 7.3k 

A/N: shiiii hello. so... i did this. I did a crap job editing so sorry for any grammar or spelling errors in advance. this is the first part of a two or three part series, depending on the length of the next part. ALSO, i made the moodboard thingy so plz don’t repost w/o crediting me :( thank you lovelies, hope you enjoy! 

“I can’t believe you tricked me.” 

“I didn’t trick you!”

“You said we were going to get ice cream!” Baekhyun hissed from the passenger’s seat, arms crossed angrily over his chest as a pout teased his bottom lip. 

You gestured towards the empty ice cream carton sitting in his lap. “Which we did! And now we’re going camping.” 

“You conveniently seemed to have left that part out. This could be considered kidnapping, you know. I could probably sue you.” 

A deep scowl contorted your features as you swung a brief glare in his direction. “Hey! This was my last resort, okay? You promised to go camping with me a while ago! But every time I tried to bring it up you suddenly had plans.” 

“What can I say? Byun Baekhyun is a man in high demand. It’s not my fault I’m so popular.”

A loud scoff had him pinning you with a stinging glare. “You don’t even have any other friends besides me, Baek.” 

“Not true!” 

“Name three.” You retorted swiftly. 

“Kyungsoo, Jongdae, and Minseok,” he smirked triumphantly. 

You took a big breath. “Kyungsoo literally can’t stand you because of that one time you dropped his new phone in your sangria. Jongdae only tolerates you because you work at the same company. Minseok is my friend, not yours. And he doesn’t like you either because of that time you dyed his hair hot pink,” you exhaled, matching his smirk with one of your own, “Try again.”

He spluttered in disbelief, at a loss for words before he finally managed to spit out some form of a reply. “That last one was an accident! It was meant for you!”

“Exactly why I’m your one and only friend.,” you snapped, detaching one hand from the wheel so that you could reach over and flicking his forehead, “because I’m the only person on this planet that can tolerate your bullshit.”

“Whatever,” he scowled, and, knowing he wasn’t going to be winning this argument, smoothly changed the subject, “What’s with the sudden camping trip anyways? You barely ever even want to leave your bed.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that. 

In the past, the idea of camping would not have been very appealing. You would have much preferred the warm company of your bed to a thin, cold sleeping bag.You weren’t the type to step out of your comfort zone too frequently. You enjoyed your little bubble, it was safe and happy and familiar. There was no reason for you to go out of your way to try new things or explore the world. You had everything you needed with your job at the bakery, your cozy apartment, your close knit circle of friends. You were content.

But for whatever reason, your head had been feeling rather off these past few months. Like there was something that you were missing. Laying in bed all day was no longer fulfilling, only leaving you drained, dissatisfied, and scoured with the feeling that you’d just wasted precious hours of your life binge watching unrealistic shows and movies. 

This sudden change left you confused and grasping helplessly for answers. 

You’d tried changing little things at first; redecorating your apartment, going out more often to bars or clubs, buying a membership to a gym, et cetera. It was satisfying for a moment, a short lived gratification to make a difference in your life. But it all just felt pointless in the end. It all ended up feeling like white noise. And that little nagging voice in the back of your head grew more and more relentless. 

Figuring out what could possibly soothe it proved to be the biggest challenge you've faced since trying to figure out what college you could attend in your high school years. 

Until you had an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t something you needed to change… but something you were missing. What exactly it is that you’re missing, you’re still not quite sure of. But hopefully getting away from the noisy city and getting some fresh air and a much needed escape into nature would help clear that up, especially with the help of your beloved best friend Byun Baekhyun at your side. 

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just felt like it was time to do something a little out of my usual daily routine,” you paused, brows furrowing as a sudden thought struck you, “you ever get that feeling like you’re going in circles?” 

“Circles?” He repeated, confusion clear in his voice. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean—“ you stopped abruptly and chuckled softly, shaking your head as you realized it would be impossible to try and untangle the mess of thoughts in your head and lay them out for him, “never mind. It’s too hard to explain.” 

“No, tell—”

“We’re here!” You exclaimed loudly, voice bubbling with excitement as you spotted the sign indicating the beginning of the camping grounds. Pulling into the parking lot, you were shocked to find it completely empty. “Are we… the only people here?” 

“Are you surprised? Who the hell camps anymore?” You decided to ignore his remark, instead, parking and hopping out of your car, before looking over at him with an excited grin. 

“More forest for us then,” you chirped happily, and he groaned, “Come help me unload the trunk. I want to have everything set up before it starts getting dark out.”

Baekhyun scowled as you slammed the door, before sighing dramatically in defeat and unbuckling his seat belt. “This is going to be a long night.”

“When the hell did you have the time to go buy all this camping shit?” Baekhyun grunted, face red with sweat glistening on his brow as you hauled the equipment up a particularly unforgiving hill. You’d somehow convinced —ahem, threatened— him to carry the bulk of the stuff you’d brought, while you got off easy with only carrying your bags and a folding chair.

You shot a light grin at him over your shoulder, shrugging vaguely. “You’d be impressed by how much free time I gained by not sleeping in until two in the afternoon.” 

Baekhyun chuckled dryly, shaking his head as he peered after you in wonder, “you amaze me.” 

You grinned as you looked back at him, only to see that he’d begun to fall quite far behind, exhaustion clear on his features. “Pick up the pace slowpoke! We’ve still got a little more ground left to cover!” You called, laughing as he groaned dramatically and staggered on forward, trying his very best to catch up with you. 

“You enjoy my suffering, don’t you?” He huffed.

“Mm, you know I love it, baby.” You winked, biting your lip as your brows wiggled suggestively. He picked up the first thing his fingers could find off the leafy ground (luckily a small twig and not a rock) and chucked it at your head. 

“Hey! Throwing things is not a solution for your inner rage,” you scolded, squeaking in surprise as he suddenly surged forward, trying to make a grab for you. You dodged out of the way just in time and began booking it up the hill as fast as your admittedly sore legs would carry you, Baekhyun close on your heel with determination burning in his eyes. 

You all but flung yourself to the ground once you reached the peak, laughing breathlessly, sweat glistening on your face, body aching and tired from the exertion, but the feeling of accomplishment warded away any negativity that threatened your mindset. 

Baekhyun staggered up after you, looking even more exhausted than before, face also completely red and knees visibly weak under the weight of his body combined with the mass of the equipment. When he saw you laying on the ground, he dropped everything he’d been carrying and collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath as he blinked sweat away from his eyes. 

“Are we…” he swallowed as his raspy voice cracked faintly, “here?” 

A grin broke out across your features as you turned your head, finding him already looking at you hopefully. “We’re here,” you confirmed, heading shifting so that you could stare up at the beautiful blue sky peering shyly through the thick green canopy above you. 

“Thank fuck,” he croaked, and you cackled. 

For a few minutes, you laid in comfortable silence (a rare blessing when hanging out with Baekhyun), catching your breath and recuperating from the hike to this special little spot in the woods. 

“Have you been here before?” He suddenly asked, turning to look at you, dark eyes blinking curiously. 

You nodded, smiling nostalgically. “Yeah. My dad and I used to come out here once a year during the summer for a day or two.”  

“No wonder it seemed like you knew where you were going,” he chuckled softly. 

“We came to this exact spot, you know. Because when the sun sets, you have the best view of the stars,” you sighed dreamily, hands rising above your face as you pictured the midnight blue sky riddled with winking stars, “it’s seriously beautiful, Baek. One time I even saw a shooting star.” 

“Did you make a wish?” 

You scoffed in disbelief, turning to look at him with a lopsided grin. “What do you take me for? Of course I did.” 

He laughed softly, “did it come true?” 

You sighed thoughtfully, eyes squinting against the bright blue sky. “No. Not yet.” 

Looking back, you still remember exactly what you’d wished for. But you’d been so young then, so naive and hopeful and, admittedly, pretty dumb. 

It was an unrealistic wish. 

But you couldn’t stop your heart from wanting it, even now. You’d wished for something that most people found unattainable, something only the luckiest of the lucky were able to have, and able to keep. And, especially in these past few months, the universe seemed astonishingly adamant on showing you just how mind bogglingly unlucky you were. 

“Okay!” You exclaimed abruptly, and Baekhyun jumped in surprise, head swinging around to watch with wide eyes as you pushed yourself off of the ground, swatting any dirt that clung to the back of your black leggings. “That’s enough time wasted. Time to set up.”

“Y/n~” Baekhyun whined in protest, flopping back onto the ground as a heavy pout tugged at his lips, “can’t we rest for a little more? My legs still feel like they’re about to fall off.” 

“Nope!” You sang, grabbing his wrists and pulling him upright, ignoring him as he objected loudly. “There’s much to be done before we can relax. Here, we'll set up the tent first and then the fire pit. It won’t take too long, I promise.” 

“Not long my ass.” Baekhyun snapped, glaring at you. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know shit about how to properly put up a tent!” You hissed, thrusting an accusing finger in his direction. 

“Why the fuck would I need to know how to put up a stupid tent? You’re the one that dragged us out here in the first place! Take responsibility instead of blaming me!” He bit back harshly, arms folding stubbornly across his chest while he sassily cocked a hip. 

You rolled your eyes, exhaling heavily at his childishness. “We got it done. That’s what matters.” 

Well, you got it done– but you weren’t adamant on starting any more unnecessary arguments with Baekhyun. You’d gotten more than a day’s worth or arguing done in just the last hour while trying to set up your campsite. You dragged him out here to relax, to take a break from any and all things stressful and annoying. You probably should have kept in mind that Baekhyun was, in fact, one of the most annoying people you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. But you loved him, so it was okay. 

You flopped down on one of the log benches encircled the fire pit, letting out a long breath as you tilted your head back and inhaled deeply, a nostalgic smile flickering at the corners of your lips. The musky scent of the smoke you brought back memories you’d thought you’d long forgotten, if the long nights spent laughing and joking with your dad into the early morning, until you both collapsed from exhaustion with bellies full of s’mores and cheap hot cocoa. They were nice memories. But they made you sad. The kind of sad that felt like a heavy stone had been dropped on your chest. 

Baekhyun dropped down beside you, and you felt his shoulder nudge up against yours. Peeling open your eyelids, you glanced over at him with a raised brow. 

“What did you mean earlier?” 

You blinked at him. “What?”

“When you said the thing about circles?” He elaborated, throwing in a circular hand motion for good measure. 

“Circles?” You pondered for a moment before finally recalling the conversation you’d been having in the car before you arrived. “Oh. That. Well… I don’t think I can really… it’ll just sound stupid once I actually try to say it out loud, and explaining it would be too complicated—”

“Try.” 

You opened your mouth, about to give a smart aleck reply, but then you met his gaze. There was something so sincere in his dark eyes, something pleading. He wanted to know what was on your mind, what was bothering you. He wanted to help you. You felt an unexpected warmth in your chest, a gratefulness swelling up inside of you. 

In spite of his obnoxious, playful nature, Baekhyun was one of the most genuine people you’d ever met in your entire life. He was honest, thoughtful, and loving. He had a good heart. And although you’d never admit it out loud, because you’d never hear the end of it from him, you were very glad to have him as your best friend. Maybe one day you’d tell him everything he meant to you. One day, when his incessant teasing wouldn’t be so brutal and he wouldn’t rub it in your face with that stupid lopsided grin on his face every chance that he got. 

And so, regardless of not quite understanding your internal turmoil yourself, you tried your very best to explain it to him. To put into words the confusing emotions and thoughts that were running amuck in your head. You bore your every thought, every worry, every trouble, not missing a single detail if you could help it. You laid it all out for him, as best you could without sounding completely insane. 

There was a brief pause when you finished, the only sound was the low cracking of the flames as  they playfully danced before your eyes. It made you feel anxious. But there was also a sense of unparalleled relief to have finally gotten all of that off of your chest. 

“Maybe you’re lonely.”

You were surprised by the suggestion, turning him with brows furrowed in confusion. “Lonely? Why would I be lonely? I’m not lonely.”

“It sure sounds like you’re lonely.”

You immediately shook your head, rejecting the idea. “That doesn’t make sense. I have plenty of friends, I’m surrounded by people all day at work. I also have your annoying ass with me twenty four seven,” you teased. Baekhyun scowled. 

“Not that kind of lonely, dumbass. Romantically.” He paused, searching your face for any kind of understanding. But, he could only sigh in frustration as he saw the look of pure confusion in your eyes, making it very obvious you didn’t understand what he was saying whatsoever. “When did you and Junmyeon break up?” 

“I don’t know. A year ago, maybe? But why are you bringing him up?” 

Disregarding your question, he asked another one of his own. “Have you been with anyone else since then?” 

You paused, trying to recall if you’d had any flings or short lived romances with anybody after your breakup, but could call none to mind. “No. I don’t think so.” 

“Well… have you been with anyone since?” 

You gasped, shocked he’d ask you something like that so outright. “Baekhyun!” 

“Oh my gosh, just answer! It’s not like we haven’t talked about our sex lives before.” He rolled his eyes at the flabbergasted expression on your face, shoving your arm lightly. 

“You mean you talking to me about your sex life,” you corrected, stabbing an accusing finger into his chest, to which he swatted your hand away with a pointed glare. Huffing, you swung your gaze away from him, choosing instead to focus on the flickering orange flames in front of you. “No. No, I have not been with anybody since Junmyeon.” 

You jumped as he suddenly clapped his hands together, eyes wide like he’d just discovered the solution to world hunger, “Therein lies your problem! You just need to have sex!” You rained down a vicious attack of hits on his arm and chest, spewing curses at him until he finally relented, “ow! Ow! I’m joking, y/n, joking! Stop hitting me!” 

“You’re disgusting, Baekhyun.” You spat, frustrated beyond belief as you pushed yourself off of the log and stood up, “Why’d I think you’d actually try to help me?” 

You turned, about to leave, when he suddenly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back. “Wait! Wait, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious. Sit back down,” he gave another pleading pull at your hand, looking up with what you hoped was genuine sincerity in his eyes, “please?” 

You hesitated for a moment, before huffing in defeat and dropping back down into the chair. He smiled faintly, adjusting his hold on your wrist so that he could play with your fingers. There was a brief lull of silence before he finally spoke up. “I was serious about the lonely thing. Even if you do have people in your life all the time, and my annoying ass hanging around,” he added playfully, and you chuckled, “it seems like you miss that more intimate part of being in a relationship with someone.”

“The intimate part?” You repeated, looking over at him with furrowed brows. He nodded in confirmation. 

“It seems like you miss knowing someone inside and out, and someone knowing you just as deeply. You mentioned having nightmares more often than before, right? It sounds like you miss sharing your bed with someone, I think that gave you a sense of security.” You listened intently as he spoke. It still surprised you at times when your best friend, your goofy, annoying, yet somehow lovable best friend, dropped heavy wisdom on you out of the blue. Sometimes, you forgot how deep his mind and heart actually were. 

Maybe you were lonely. Maybe you’d been lonely for so long and had gotten so used to the emptiness that you didn’t even realize that it was loneliness you were feeling. Maybe this whole time, that something you’d been craving and subconsciously searching for, was actually someone. Maybe more than anything in the world, you wanted somebody to fill up that hollow place in your heart, somebody to hold, somebody to kiss, somebody to love. 

And maybe you wanted it so badly that you’d take it just about anywhere you could find it. 

That last bit probably wasn’t true. You weren’t desperate for affection by any means. But, at the very least, it would explain why you found yourself staring at Baekhyun’s lips for a few seconds longer than a friend probably should. Just long enough for him to notice. His voice fizzled off into the night air, the only sounds left surrounding you were the gentle crackling of the orange flames and the sensual song of the cicadas hidden in the trees. 

You watched as he blinked, confusion and intrigue gracing his gentle features in the form of a warm pink blush and fluttering eyelashes. You felt your heart start to pick up speed. 

“Baekhyun,” you murmured, voice almost quiet enough to be lost amongst the hushed rustling of leaves. 

He swallowed, and you watched with unfamiliar intensity as his Adam’s Apple bobbed. “Yeah?” He whispered, his own voice strained and heavy on his tongue. His hands curled into tight fists on his lap as you subconsciously licked your lips. 

“Can I…” your stare flickered up to meet his, “try something?” 

His face reddened as he glanced briefly at your mouth before hurriedly meeting your eyes, giving a single, faint nod in response. “Okay.” At his consent, you shifted closer to him, until your thigh gently bumped his, your shoulders nudging up against one another. Up close, it seemed as if you could see every detail of his face. Every stray freckle, every delicate eyelash, 

It was strange. But familiar. A nervous sensation bubbled up inside of you when you met his wide eyed gaze, and you found yourself faltering. 

“Can you close your eyes?” 

The request was met with hesitance at first, understandably. But soon enough he was nodding, eyes squeezing shut obediently. He pursued his lips, brows furrowing as he breathed unevenly through his nose, 

You suddenly found yourself being reminded of a night long ago. When the two of you were still teenagers, young and reckless and hormonal. 

He’d been over at your place. You’d talked and laughed late into the night, even stolen a glass of your mom’s prized wine just to try. You hadn’t been too fond of the flavor, though Baekhyun loved it. You remember laughing at how quickly he got himself tipsy, cheeks going a soft pink, eyes becoming hooded, lips pulling into a hazy little grin. You’d listened to him babble aimlessly for almost an hour before he’d finally fallen asleep, slumping unexpectedly against you mid sentence, head falling onto your shoulder, hands wrapped loosely around your waist. 

You can still remember the warmth of his breath against your neck, the softness of his cheek on your shoulder, the faint tickling sensation of his hair under your chin. He’d looked so innocent then, features washed in the delicate grey moonlight, making him almost seem to glow. You remember looking at him— really looking at him for the first time in your life. You’d always known he was considered attractive by many, the subject of several girls’ fantasies, but you saw him differently that night. Just as you were seeing him differently now. 

Only now, you weren’t in your bedroom wrapped up in your warm comforter, but washed in the throbbing heat of a campfire. And it wasn’t the moonlight that made him glow, but the flickering yellow flame that doused his entire body in the hellish radiance. 

You couldn’t help but to wonder when exactly he’d become a man. It seemed like it wasn’t long ago that he was that goofy little boy with the weird haircut and a mouth that could run for hours without becoming exhausted. How had you not noticed him changing before your very eyes? 

He shuddered when your fingers suddenly raised, ever so gently feathering over his cheek, and you saw his eyes squeeze tighter. You let your hand settle around the back of his neck, cupping it loosely. He leaned forward ever so slightly, and you felt the side of his chest pressing against your arm. You tilted your chin upwards. You felt his breath tickle your upper lip. The faintest of chills rolled down your spine. 

Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to kiss your best friend? It definitely wasn’t a good idea. But you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

Your train of thought was unexpectedly halted by an odd noise. A faint humming or whistling, you couldn’t quite make it out. But, it was enough to have you leaning away from Baekhyun’s puckered lips, just in time to catch a streak of white light piercing the midnight blue sky. For a moment, you thought it might’ve been a shooting star. But, shooting stars are there then gone in the blink of an eye. Whatever this was, wasn’t vanishing. In fact, it seemed to be getting closer.

“What the hell?” You muttered, face contorting in confusion. 

Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered open, his brows furrowing as he caught sight of your unsettled expression. “What? What’s wr—”

And then, all at once, it felt as if the air itself had come… alive. 

It vibrated around you, buzzing excitedly. Warm and energized, it sent something equivalent to jolts of electricity shooting through your veins. The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood on end, skin rippling with goosebumps. An unfamiliar anticipation seized you violently.

It all happened so fast.  

There was a flash of white in your peripheral vision, and the whistling sound progressed into a low, prolonged shriek. Confusion and fear ripped through you. “Baekhyun—” you tried to reach for him, but next thing you knew, you were knocked flat on your back by a sudden sharp rush of wind, leaving you gasping and heaving desperately. You recognized the feeling of not being able to breathe. The air had been knocked from your lungs. 

A skull splitting screech tore through the night sky. Your hands leapt to cover your ears, eyes squeezing shut in agony, the sound making your head feel like it was about to explode. There was a flash of something bright behind your eyelids, and then an unearthly howling, before a deafening explosion flung your writhing body across the damp earth. 

The last thing you felt was a pain equivalent to receiving a knife to the back of head before a deep, inky blackness consumed you.

“Y/n!” 

Your eyes snapped open at the sound of someone calling your name, ears ringing faintly, vision blurry for a moment before focusing on the familiar, worried face of your best friend, Byun Baekhyun. 

“Baek?” You muttered softly in confusion, throat feeling dry and raw. 

“Thank god. You scared the living shit out of me,” he laughed, but you could just make out the glistening reminisce of tears clinging to his eyelashes. The ground felt as if it might fall out from underneath you as you pushed yourself upright with a low groan, trying your very best to ignore the dull throb in the back of your skull. “Are you alright? You hit your head really hard.” 

You carefully touched the back of your head, drawing away sharply as the faintest pressure sent a shock of pain shooting through the area. “Did I? Shit. What happened?”

His eyes went wide, trembling hands shooting out to grab your shoulders. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Look for yourself.” He gestured with a sharp nod of his head at the large grey rock you just realized you were tucked safely behind. Glancing at him skeptically, you crept forward on your hands and knees before slowly leaning up and peering over. 

The first thing you saw was flame. Dull orange flames flickered lazily, some scattered in the wet grass, others clinging onto the shredded silver metal of the massive contraption that had broken through the treetops and created a dent in the earth. 

“Holy shit.” You blinked in disbelief, jaw going slack as you stared at the scene before you, an equal amount of both horror and curiosity flooding through you. “Is that… is that a—” 

“An alien spacecraft? Yes indeed.” 

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” You hissed, smacking the back of his head. “That’s impossible.”

“Well the fuck else could it be, y/n?”  He laughed harshly in disbelief, throwing his hands up as his eyes took on a wild appearance. “Have you ever seen an airplane that looks like that before, huh?” 

You wracked your brain for some kind of rational explanation, spluttering out weakly, “maybe it’s some sort of satellite or something.” 

“Yeah–fucking–right.” Baekhyun was shaking his head suddenly, pulling at your arm as something anxious glinted in his usually playful gaze. “We have to get out of here. This is fucking insane. This is—” he froze abruptly, body tensing beside you, the hold he had on your arm tightening substantially, “what the fuck is that?”

“What’s what?” You murmured in confusion, head whipping around to try and find whatever it was that caught his eye. It didn’t take very long. 

There was a dark shape on the ground, a lump in the grass. You squinted, before your eyes widened in horror. You might’ve easily mistaken it for a rock in the darkness had it not been for the dull glow of the fire from the strange aircraft and the bright silver moonlight.

“It’s a person.” You murmured in  realization, slowly standing up right. Baekhyun was quick to snatch your wrist.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” He hissed, eyes looking about ready to pop out of his skull. 

“They look hurt! We can’t just leave them there!” You yanked your wrist sharply out of his hold, turning on your heels and cautiously making your way over to the unmoving person, completely ignoring Baekhyun’s frantic calls for you to ‘get your ass back over here’. 

You could admit that a part of you was scared shitless, but what kind of person would you be to just leave them here, completely defenseless. As you grew closer, the person's features gradually became clearer. It was a man. Washed in the pale moonlight, he almost appeared to be… glowing. Tanned skin, hair red as blood, body covered in nothing but bruises, gashes, and ash. Even in that state, you couldn’t deny how handsome he was. But that definitely wasn’t your greatest concern. No, your attention was captured more by the fresh wounds littered across his naked body. There was one especially nasty looking one across his chest. 

Unsurprisingly, you soon felt Baekhyun’s worried presence looming over your shoulder, spluttering out curses as he took in the state of the unconscious boy. 

“Oh my god. That’s a lot of blood. Is he dead? I think he’s dead. He looks really dead. What are we gonna do, y/n?” Baekhyun rambled, voice panicked and frightened as he paced anxiously behind you.

“He’s still breathing, shit head,” you snapped, shooting him a pointed look over your shoulder, “but we have to get him to a hospital, and fast. He’s bleeding a lot.” 

The amount of blood seeping from the gash in his chest was increasing by the second. You wracked your brain for a way to ease it up before he bled out in the spot. Inspiration struck you in the form of your best friend’s yellow and blue plaid button up. “Baek, quick, take off your shirt.”

His face twisted. “Excuse me?”

“Just take it off! We need something to cover him with and to stop the bleeding,” you explained hurriedly, not giving him a chance to respond before you were shoving it off of his shoulders and pulling it down his arms. 

“Hey! Hey! I’m not wearing anything under this! This is assault! Assault!” He shrieked, attempting to squirm away from you, when suddenly a loud tearing sound split the air. His jaw dropped, gasping as he stared in horror at his sleeve hanging limply in your hand. “Y/n! This is my favorite shirt!”

“I’m sorry! But I think he needs it a little more than you do right now. I’ll buy you a new one I promise, but can I please have it for now? He's completely naked,” you tried to reason, gesturing vaguely towards the man’s bare nether regions that were just somewhat distracting. 

“Fine,” he relented, albeit visibly disgruntled, “but you’re buying me dinner for the next month!” How he was making demands like that at a time like this, you’re not quite sure. Byun Baekhyun was and always will be a strange, strange man.

“Fine, whatever, just take it off already, Jesus,” you rushed. He huffed in annoyance, but his fingers made quick work of the buttons, not fighting you off when you pulled it off his arms completely and turned to get to work on covering up the large wound. 

“My decency…” Baekhyun pouted as he covered his bare chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Seriously? I think we have bigger things at hand.” 

“Yeah, like the fucking spaceship that just crashed!” He thrust a finger in the direction of where the large metal aircraft had crash landed not one hundred feet away from where you’d set up your camp. 

You shot a brief glare in his direction, “It’s not a spaceship.”

“Really? Because I’ve never seen a plane that looks like that before. Do you know any flying vehicles that look like that? No! Because there are none! Not on earth at least.” 

“Baekhyun, please! Shut up for two seconds so I can focus!” You snapped, your shaking hands working anxiously to press the torn fabric  against the large wound to alleviate the bleeding. It was rather nerve wracking knowing that a person’s life could possibly be in your hands. 

“I’m sorry! You know I ramble when I get worked up.” He whined defensively. Ignoring him, you carefully tied the ripped sleeves tightly around the man’s chest, applying pressure to the injury.

“We have to get him to the car. Help me get him up. Grab his legs.” You commanded, grunting as you hauled his torso up so that you could hook your arms under his armpits. 

Baekhyun let out a sound of disbelief. “Why do I have to take the legs? You take the legs!” 

“I don’t want his junk all up in my face!” 

“And you think I do?!” He yelped out, giving a sharp shout of pain as you smacked the top of his head. “Fine! Fine! I concede! Gosh, you’re so violent. Hitting people won’t solve all of your problems, you know!” 

“True. But it’ll solve this one.” 

It took you less than half of the time it took you to trek up the steep incline of the hill to haul the limp body of the boy back down it. Most likely because the two of you were running like your asses were on fire, the threat of the odd aircraft possibly exploding at any given moment adding much needed encouragement to ignore the sharp burning of your sore legs and the notable aching of your lungs. 

By the time you reached the car, you were sweating profusely and heaving for breath. Your arms felt like they were just about ready to fall off, knees weak beneath you. Your fingers were shaking as you fumbled to yank open the back door. 

“You drive,” you demanded, maneuvering into the backseat with the unconscious boy, pulling his top half up so that he was positioned over your lap, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bleed all over my leather.” 

Baekhyun would never step out on the opportunity to drive your car, nodding sharply in agreement. “Good idea.” 

Slamming the door shut, he scrambled into the driver's seat, the engine purring to life as he turned the keys in the ignition. The tires kicked up gravel as they swiveled, the car jerked backwards before Baekhyun was swinging the wheel to the left, and you were taking off down the same path you’d come in on. 

You watched through the back window as heavy grey smoke smothered the twinkling white stars, obscuring the bright moon from view completely. Your heart lurched in your chest, your throat running dry as you watched the tips of angry flames consuming the treetops, the heavy grey smoke throbbing with an under glow of orange and yellow. It was a terrifying sight. You’d never seen anything like it in your entire life. 

Your hands, pressed down firmly against the boy’s dressed wound, were shaking profusely. You could hear the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears, the thundering of your own heart a deafening echo in the back of your skull. 

Calm down, y/n. Calm the fuck down. 

Baekhyun glanced back at you through the rear view mirror, then at the receding flames. “Do you think it’s going to—” Any speculation he was about to offer was silenced abruptly by a flash of white light and an unearthly boom. Your entire body went stiff, your breath escaping you in sharp, uneven gasps. The hold you had around the unconscious boy’s body tightened. “Holy fucking shit, y/n. Holy fucking shit. What the hell is happening right now?” 

You shook your head, at as much of a loss for answers as he was. “I don’t—” you swallowed, your throat feeling unexpectedly dry and tight, “I don’t know, Baek.” 

“Did we seriously just witness an alien spaceship crash landing on earth? Oh my god. If the government finds out— they’ll kill us won’t they? Y/n, we’re so screwed! We’ll have to go into hiding. We have to get new identities. Y/n l/n and Byun Baekhyun have to disappear. We can’t—” you cut off his senseless rambling for the umpteenth time that night. 

“Baekhyun! No one is coming to kill us! We will not have to go into hiding or find new identities or any of that sci-fi bullshit because this is real fucking life and alien spacecrafts don’t just fall out of the damn sky in real life.” 

“Like you’d know! Remind me how many movies about aliens you’ve watched in your lifetime?” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to justify such a ridiculous inquiry with a response. But, he took your silence as a sign of you admitting defeat, “yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Baekhyun, just pay attention to the—” you cut yourself off as the hand you were holding over his chest suddenly began to feel incredibly warm, the kind of heat you feel when hovering your hands in front of a flame. Brows furrowed in confusion, you lowered your gaze. A warm, crimson glow was emulating from beneath your palm. Confusion swirling to life inside of you. Slowly, you removed your hand. 

“What the fuck.”

“What the fuck what? What what the fuck?” Baekhyun questioned curiously from behind the wheel.  

“He’s… glowing.”

“Glowing? What’s glowing?”

“He’s fucking glowing, Baekhyun!” You snapped. 

He tore his eyes away from the road, torso swiveling around to try and get a glimpse as to what the hell you were talking about. “What the hell are you—,” he did a double take, eyes bulging as his jaw dropped, “holy mother of shit.” 

You could only stare, completely awestruck as his chest was consumed in a deep, blood red glow, like there was a fucking flashlight shining from the inside of him. The glow intensified, and you drew away like you’d been burned. “Baekhyun,” your voice was shaking as you called for him helplessly, a heavy sense of fear settling into your gut, “Baekhyun, what do I do?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never been in a situation like this before!” His voice was panicked and pitchy, cracking every other word like it always did when he was on the verge of losing his shit. “Try s–smacking it or something!” 

“I’m not going to smack it! What if it’s radioactive or something and we blow up!” You hissed back, trying uselessly to wriggle out from underneath the unconscious boy’s suddenly stifling weight. 

“Oh god,” Baekhyun cried out distraughtly, “we’re going to die!” 

You opened your mouth to try and argue, but all at once, the brightness of the glow emulating from the boy’s chest increased tenfold, your eyes burning fiercely from the unexpected intensity, drawing a yell of shock from your lips. 

Okay. So maybe dying was a distinct possibility. 

But just as quickly as it had come, the glow suddenly vanished. “What happened?! What just happened?!” Baekhyun demanded from the front seat, head swinging back and forth frantically between you and the road. You couldn’t bring yourself to form a proper sentence. “Y/n? Y/n?!” 

You stared blankly at the makeshift wrapping you’d made from the sleeves of Baekhyun’s favorite shirt. You found your curiosity getting the better of you. You reached towards the fabric fastened securely around his chest. Slowly, you undid the knot you’d so deliberately made, watching as the sleeves went slack and fell limply across your lap. For a moment, you were at a complete loss for words. 

“I–it’s gone,” you breathed in disbelief, trembling fingers grazing over the smooth expanse of skin that was only seconds ago marred with a deep, jagged wound. 

“What? What’s gone?” Baekhyun questioned, turning around once again. 

“H–how…” you choked on your confusion, head slowly shaking in denial. All at once, a horrible realization struck you. There was no fucking way that it was a human being laying across your lap fucking glowing. Because humans don’t glow. Because humans don’t fall out of strange aircrafts that don’t exist on earth. Because humans don’t magically heal their own wounds. 

So what, the holy hell, was on top of you?

You didn’t have much time to try and process it, because suddenly, there was honking. Loud, incessant honking. When you lifted your head, you were shocked to be blinded by a pair of bright bright headlights. It took you less than a second to process that Baekhyun had swerved to the wrong side of the road and there was a massive truck headed straight for you. 

“Baekhyun the road—!” A scream ripped from your throat. 

His head whipped around, eyes going wide as his lips parted in horror. 

There wasn’t enough time to swerve. 

And for a moment, it was like time slowed down. 

You never could have imagined that your cause of death would be getting flattened by a truck. Damn. You’d really hoped that you would go out with a little more grace than that, preferably from old age. Poison would’ve worked too. How cool would you have sounded? 

But now, when people ask how y/n l/n died— “oh, she was squashed by a semi.” See? It’s just… meh. There just isn’t as much of a kick to it as, “she was mysteriously poisoned one day… people suspect it was the jealous pool boy.” See. That’s much more mysterious, intriguing, and suspenseful. 

Plus, there was always a jealous pool boy in your death fantasies. There’d never been a massive red semi, though. What a shame. 

You closed your eyes, body bracing for the impending impact. 

… but it never came. 

Confusion washed over you as one second after another passed and you didn’t feel your bones being crushed or your body being mangled. Hesitantly, you peeled open an eye. It took you a second to process what had happened, and why there was a dark shadow cast over the car. 

But once you had, for the second time that night, it felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. 

Looking up through the large sunroof that stretched across the entire top of your car, you were met with the underbelly of a truck. The intricate maze of  grey tubes, oil stained metal, and the insides of massive black tires were unmistakable. It was like it was happening in slow motion. Your eyes followed as the truck gravitated over your car, emulating an eerie red glow, before landing smoothly back on the road one hundred or so feet behind it, driving off like nothing had even happened. 

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, eyes just about ready to pop out of your damn skull. “W– what…” your voice escaped you as less than a whisper, eyes blinking slowly as your brain tried to process what it had just seen. A cold palm pressing against your cheek was what broke you from your stunned trance. Slowly, you turned your head. 

You were in such a state of shock that you couldn’t even bring your stiff body or distraught mind to react to the glowing red eyes that were staring back at you before they fell shut and a pair of warm, plush lips were being pressed to yours. 

Well… fuck. 

You can officially say that this has been the most eventful night of your life.

[serenasoutherlyns]

Winding Me Up Ch. 2 - Crying

A/N: thank you all so much for the likes and follows! I hope I don't disappoint you all <3. Here's chapter 2 of this story. I initially did not intend for it to be so like, emotional of a series, but I can't help myself. I'm better at updating on ao3, but things will always make their way over here! I have this series fully outlined so it shouldn't take all too long to write. I happily take requests for most SVU ships (esp wlw)!

Casey is absolutely livid.

Thank fuck it’s Friday, because at least the week is over. Not that she has much to look forward to on the weekend. Paperwork, prep, the same set of tasks repeating in a way that feels completely endless, fruitless, especially after this week. She can handle losing normal cases, those where the defendant is really just the best suspect that they have but nobody can be certain. She can handle the more depressing wins, where the defendant has their reasons, like a father killing his daughter’s rapist. But the cases that hurt the most are the ones that feel like they could’ve been prevented. If only this one man had help, maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did; if only the little girl hadn’t been so trusting.

And her un-recovered reputation still proceeds her. It feels like around every corner is someone questioning her capabilities, despite the fact that she’s been hired back, despite the fact that her win percentage is still the highest in the department by far. She’s pretty sure Jack McCoy has secretly banned her from trying cases against Sophie Devere, thinking Casey has a weak spot for the attorney. He isn’t wrong, but the lack of trust still stings. Casey just doesn’t have many more tries left in the courtroom, she can’t pull her own tactics to throw cases and get a mistrial anymore without some serious disdain from her colleagues.

Yeah, that’s the other thing. Office gossip was going to kill her one of these days. Everyone seemed to think something about her. Casey lost her nerve, Casey’s out of steam, she must’ve slept with someone to get her job back, all she does now is make deals. Casey’s a damn good prosecutor, and she knows it, but sometimes, sometimes the doubt just sinks into her like vinegar, burning her throat.

So when her last jury of the day comes back not guilty on a case she really should’ve won, she shakes as she leaves the courtroom. When she overhears the defense attorney gossiping to one of her colleagues (her colleague for fuck’s sake) about how she’s “not the same as she used to be” on the walk back to her office, by the time she gets to her desk it’s like her body is choosing between hot tears and tearing the place apart. The first option wins out. She grabs her clean gym shirt and puts it against her eyes and nose, but she cries quietly. It’s childish, ridiculous, unprofessional, completely inappropriate, but she can’t stop herself from the breakdown. She’s an emotional person, but she usually keeps the weeping out of the office. Casey is usually able to brush off the comments, able to come up with a witty comeback even, but for some reason, this is the last straw. It’s like she’s finally broken the years old bottle of pain and rage, and everything that’s inside is spilling out onto the floor, a veritable self-pity fest.

When she hears a knock at her door, she’s of half a mind not to answer it, pretend that she has done the unthinkable and actually gone home after her last verdict. She leaves it for a second, but another knock comes, and a voice.

“Casey, it’s Alex. I know you didn’t go home.” Casey’s attention picks up at her friend’s voice. Friend, yeah, that’s probably the best word for their relationship. But she can’t get herself to stop crying.

“You know me too well, Alex,” Casey replies, her voice weak and slurred because her face is swollen. Hearing her own voice makes her start to cry again at how horrible she must sound, louder when she realizes that Alex could hear her cry.

“Is everything ok?” Alex asks, her tone alarmed. She’s never seen Casey get much more than glassy eyed, except when she’s working on a particularly hard case; and then the tears usually come slowly, not the way this sounds, strangled. Casey shows no sign of stopping nor getting up to let her in, so Alex asks again “Are you hurt, did something happen?”

“No, it’s, it’s nothing, look, I’m fine, don’t worry, just,” a particularly large hiccup breaks her sentence, “just a rough day, I’ll be fine.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself and not having much success.

“Uh-uh, no, you do not sound fine,” Alex says, her protective nature kicking in, “I’m coming in,” she says, but Casey replies with an emphatic “No! Don’t!” before Alex can even get her hand on the doorknob. Alex respects her friend’s boundaries, but she can’t let her just sit and cry by herself. “If you don’t let me in, I’m going to stand outside this door until you come out,” she settles on as a compromise.

“Alex, I told you I’m,” another sob, “fine.”

She feels bad about it, but Alex breaks into giggles of disbelief when she hears that. Alex Cabot doesn’t normally giggle, but Casey brings out this side of her every time they talk. Casey hears Alex laughing, and thinking it’s at her expense, responds, “don’t laugh at me, Cabot!”

Alex, still laughing says, “I’m not laughing at you.” She pauses. “Ok, I’m laughing at you. But only because you’re being really funny. Just, let me in Casey,” and as a last resort, she pulls out her subtle flirty voice, the one Casey hears about one morning a week now, and purrs, “Please?”

Casey can never resist it when Alex pulls the pleading growl on her, and begrudgingly opens the door, allowing Alex inside. “You’re incredible, you know that?” She says, tears still streaming down her face, as she picks up a tissue and blows her nose. “God, I must look terrible.”

“You sure do,” Alex says before she thinks about whether that’s what the redhead wants to hear, “What the hell happened?”

In lieu of replying, Casey pulls Alex into a crushingly tight hug, knocking her wind out. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and Casey rests her head on Alex’s shoulder, unable to make words happen.

—

She eventually calms down.

Alex holds her tightly, rubbing circles into her back. They end up on Casey’s couch, she’s not sure how, but by the time she stops crying, she’s all but koalaed in Alex’s lap, exhausted. The sun has gone down.

“Please tell me you locked the door,” Casey whispers, tensing, knowing how this would look if anybody walked in.

“Yeah, I did, darling. We’re ok.” Alex says quietly, still in soothing mode. Casey relaxes again in her arms, and Alex feels her stomach flutter. Not the time, Cabot, she thinks, because Casey has been pretty clear about wanting their relationship to stay platonic aside from the whole sex thing, she couldn’t allow herself to have feelings for her. “Do you,” she ventures, unsure of whether she’ll just upset her more, “wanna talk about what happened?”

Casey scoffs, says, still quiet, “not really, it’s stupid, I should be used to it by now.”

This confuses Alex. Casey’s tough, and Alex knows that, so anything that could rattle her like that couldn’t just be something to get used to. “Used to what?” She asks, genuinely.

“Just, the office chatter, stupid comments,” Casey replies, beginning to lose her composure again out of embarrassment, but too tired to escape Alex’s firm embrace, “I overheard Calloway talking to the defense attorney when I left court today, saying something about me,” she breathes deeply, “not being what I used to be.”

Alex pulls away from the hug a few inches to look at Casey’s face. Her shoulder is wet with her tears, but she doesn’t care. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ll kick him.” Alex Cabot threatening violence never fails to get a smile out of Casey, who is drying her face off with the gym shirt again. “Calloway is a raging asshole. I will kick him for you if you want.” Her emphatic tone is cheering Casey up. Alex finds Casey’s vulnerable smiles to be completely disarming, but keeps going because she wants more. “In fact, I’ll tell him how much of an asshole he is, then I’ll kick him, then I’ll report him to McCoy for being unprofessional and gossiping, then I’ll kick him again for good measure.” Casey swats her arm and looks away to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.

“I’m serious. I. Will. Kick. John Calloway for you.” Alex’s tone shifts from angry to playful as she finishes her sentence, gratified by Casey’s weak chuckles. “Plus, he’s wrong, completely wrong. You’re fucking incredible at your job, Casey, even if you’re more cautious than you used to be. And that’s just, practicality, I mean, seriously, who does Calloway even think he is—“

Casey cuts her off with a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry, I know I’m kind of gross,” Casey says, and Alex begins to protest, “But you’re just so cute when you’re mad. Especially when you’re not mad at me.” Alex takes her hands and plays with them, suddenly aware that Casey is pretty much straddling her, on her knees, in her office. She blushes at the thought.

“Hmm,” Alex hums thoughtfully, “Well don’t get too used to it. I’m sure you’ll find some way to get under my skin soon.” She pats Casey’s thigh, signaling that she needs to get up. “Come on, let’s get out of here and get something to drink. I’m sure those files can wait til Monday,” she says, pointing at the short pile of papers on Casey’s desk. They actually really shouldn’t, but Casey wasn’t in a state to argue.

“You’re inviting me out, Cabot, after I ugly cried in your lap for ten minutes? You really are an angel,” Casey says, her quick snarky self returning.

“You’re assuming I don’t have any ulterior motives, Novak.” Alex pauses, considers herself for a moment, “Not that I’m being nice to you because I want to have sex, I mean, I do, but that’s not why,” she rambles.

Casey cuts her off with a chaste kiss. “I think I like your motives,” she says, “But I’m starving, so we’re getting dinner first.”

Alex begins to get her things together, but Casey pulls her back into a hug by the wrists, saying quietly, "Alex, thank you."

"Of course."

[bottleofspilledink]

God's Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter I

September 10, 1993, St. Agnes School For Girls

Eve stared at the bible she was so desperately clutching, her nails creating indents on it's fine, leather cover.

"Hail, holy queen,

Mother or mercy,

Hail, our life, our sweetness, and our hope..."

Her stomach twisted as she switched from one prayer to another in her head.

"Glory be to the Father,

And to the Son,

And to the Holy Spirit..."

She wasn't even sure if she'd finished before beginning a different one, thoughts continually straying, focus nearly non-existent.

"Our Father,

Who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be thy name..."

If she was more aware of herself, she would have thought it miraculous that the book didn't simply slip from her grasp.

They had just finished the first gym class of their senior year and she could still picture it so vividly.

Airy sighs of relief echoed through the showers, mixing with the sound of running water and murmured complaints of aching limbs.

Warm water cascaded down them all as her chestnut eyes wandered, gaze flitting from the floor, to the nude girl next to her, to the faucet knobs, then to the floor once more.

She couldn't help but envy Claudia's soap, the lilac bar sliding over the soft, supple skin of her thighs, gliding over the gentle swell of her breasts, leaving sweet smelling suds and translucent bubbles in their wake.

It hardly got better when she towelled off. Girls roamed around the room in various states of undress.

When the prayers didn't work, she brought her sweaty hands up to palm at the rosary that, despite dangling at her neck, had always felt too tight.

Just a bit.

Her face flushed as even more of earlier's memories surfaced.

She recalled how her classmate, Tabitha, leant down to ask for a turn with her brush, entirely bare save for a towel that, instead of covering her body, had been used to wrap her wet hair.

She recalled how Naomi had slipped on the wet tile, bumping into her in an attempt to stay standing, wet hair dripping onto Eve as she was pressed into the locker, body hot against her back even with the towel between them.

And once that failed to purge the thoughts from her head, she shifted her gaze to the crucifix above the whiteboard, exchanging prayers for pleas so desperate that would make anyone who heard it cave and help her.

Though unfortunately for Eve, no one was listening.

She wanted to stop the thoughts.

She needed to stop the thoughts, the frantic beating of her heart, the pulsing heat that came from between her legs, lest she risk losing everything in this life and the next.

"Please," she thought, eyes clenched shut, her ivory hands were slick and shaking as she brought them together, fingertips growing red with each pleading squeeze, "help me."

"I know you wouldn't put me through this if you thought I couldn't handle it, but I'm begging you, help me." The words were now a mantra, repeating over and over til it lost all meaning, words meshing together in her mind in a senseless fashion, fading into the background of her thoughts all together.

Her amber eyes brimmed with tears at what could happen to her, to her soul, if she wasn't able to stop, if this wanton depravity escaped her mind, if she decided to go forth and search for ways to fulfill this sick fantasy of hers.

And through some miracle or curse, her prayers had been realized in the form of the shrill shriek of the fire alarm. Her heart beat in panic instead of longing and arousal receded, replaced by fear.

"Get in line, girls. Remember our drills," Sister Jane said, calmly rising from her seat, somehow immune to the fear and worry that now permeated the air.

At the order, lines were formed, rushed and frantic and the complete opposite of their usually pristine formation as they speed walked through the cloisters.

The place was bustling with life, tiny heels clicking and voices buzzing as the already crooked lines dissipated completely as people shoved and bumped into each other.

Eve could barely move, her right side pressed firmly into the walls. She shuffled along as best she could, making way for one of the nuns fighting against the crowd trying to reach the telephone to call the fire department.

They arrived at the courtyard quickly and despite the attempts to settle them, some girls were running all over the grass, shouting names, looking for friends and ensuring their safety.

Though the source of the fire was still a mystery, it was clear that calming the students would take a good while.

Eve was shivering in the crisp autumn air, a crunchy leaf smacking her in the face as she rubbed her hands together. In all the commotion, she had left her coat behind, the thick wool remaining draped over the back of her chair and utterly useless to her now.

Just when the sisters were at their wits end, one of the more elderly nuns and girls in aprons rushed out of the west wing door with their hands and handkerchiefs covering their mouths.

They donned flour stains on their school-mandated black aprons and reeked of smoke. Most were violently coughing, one of them dry heaving  onto the grass because of the force of it.

The girls were far too distracted to notice one of their fellow classmates slipping away from them.

"Sister Agnes!" The women rushed over to her as she fell to the ground, habit nearly slipping off when her frail body collided into the damp grass.

"What happened? Did all the girls make it out?" Mother Cecilia asked, nearly hysterical as she knelt by her fallen friend.

"Thank the Lord, I believe so, yes." Sister Agnes pushed herself up and hid the bit of hair that escaped her hood. "Oh, I don't know what happened! We were just baking, and- and I- That girl! She put it in the oven! That wretched girl! She must have started the fire!" The woman marched over to her students, face distorted in rage.

"Where is she?! Where's Lilith?!"

Eve, being so far from the commotion, hardly noticed it all as she sat alone on one of the wooden benches. She was far too occupied with warming herself. A violent shiver went through her as her leg brushed against the cold metal nail of the seat.

"Feeling chilly?" A girl with striking red hair asked her, taking off her oven mitts and waving them at Eve.

"Oh! Uhm, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though." She said, straightening herself. A gust of wind had blown past them, allowing Eve to catch a faint whiff of the smoky scent emanating from the girl.

The other merely smirked, "Shy? There's no need to be. Besides, I can see you shivering."

The blonde gave an awkward laugh, feeling her face flush as she was caught lying.

"You got me there! But really, I'm fine, it's nothing I can't handle," Eve tried reassuring the girl, who only raised a brow at her.

"Sure about that? I don't mind letting you borrow them, it's not like I'm using them or anything." The girl practically insisted on taking the oven mitts, holding them out to Eve.

Even from afar, she could feel it's warmth, her hand gave a tiny twitch, completely revealing how much she wanted it.

"If you're sure..." She reached out and took the mittens from her, their fingers briefly brushing together.

And for a second, a single, fleeting moment, the overwhelming desire to hold the other girl's hand overtook her, and she froze, head spinning at the other's heat.

She wanted to feel her smooth skin, her warmth, and have her soft hands encompass her own.

But no such thing happened and Eve pushed the thought aside to slip the oven mitts on.

"Thank you. I honestly don't think I could have taken it much longer, I have more goosebumps than an actual goose at this point."

The girl laughed at this, hearty and loud and absolutely stunning as her frame shook with the force of it all. The autumn sun made her hair shine like a ruby, it's tips grazing her apron as she moved about.

"My name's Eve, by the way." She clumsily brushed her own hair from her face, oven mitts making the task more difficult than it should have been, then stuck out her hand for the other to shake.

"That's pretty. It suits you," the girl said nonchalantly. Eve would have thought it to be sarcasm if it weren't for the seemingly genuine smile still on her face.

"I'm-"

"There you are!" Mother Cecilia pushed through the crowd of students and grabbed the dark haired girl's outstretched hand, preventing it from reaching Eve's and pulling her up. "Come with me! Now!"

And so, the girl was gone before Eve could make a sound. She could do nothing but watch as people around them parted to let the two pass, not wanting the wrath of Mother Cecilia to befall them too.

They stayed out there for another fifteen minutes before the fire department arrived.

The girls were craning their necks as they crammed themselves at the windows to get a glimpse of the firemen as the ran through the halls, hose trailing behind them. Whispers of excitement ran through them as one of the men actually entered the courtyard to talk to the nuns.

After an hour long role call, they were ushered back to their classes, chatter untamable due to all of the events that had transpired.

There was only one girl who stayed silent through it all.

Eve was still staring at the red oven mitts when she reached her seat, wondering how on earth she would return them, til the answer presented themselves through the tag that slipped out when she took them off.

On that tag, scrawled messily in a thick black marker was the name Lilith Damien.

[alolanrain]

Cursed Object

(all true stories, just with characters swapped in for people)

It starts on July 3rd, 2007. Delia is inlisting all of Red’s friends, their parents, Ash, and the Oaks into helping clean out her garage and finally throw away junk from her late husband since he was a fucking Packrat. At this point she enlisted like half of pallet Town in the beginning. The sun was setting and they can finally see most of the garage flooring. Everyone was chugging drinks and eating several boxes of pizza Blue’s mom had ordered because no one was cooking that night. Everything was fine...

Until Red, at the ripe old age of 7, came ambling out of the garage with a large plastic bat that was a horrid Orange color.

“Mama?” Red yelled across the yard to his mom who was talking to Blue’s Grandma, easily getting Delia’s and half the people’s attention as well, “what’s this?” Raising the plastic bat into the setting rays it flashed an even brighter disgusting orange.

“I don’t know, sweetie.” Delia sighed before waving her eldest away. Eyeing Blue who was cooking over 4 year old Ash and Gary who was six months younger.

“That’s a Wiffleball bat, my boy.” Professor Oak scared the living daylights out of Red by landing a hand on his skinny shoulder. “Your father was great at baseball and Wiffleball was his first sport. He wanted to play with you and Ash when you two had gotten older but never found the time with his job.”

“Ah.” Red muttered lamely before ducking out of Oaks grip and trotting over to his friends. Green had his baby brother in his grip that was eyeing the bat. Red gave the bigger end to the boy, allowing him to feel the surprisingly soft playable plastic, and pulling it away soon after when he tried to put his mouth on it. Luckily he didn’t fuss, turning back to his teething ring instead while eyeing at Blue who still cradled Red’s own brother.

“You know,” Green started, that greedy look in his eyes shining brightly and caused a sinking feeling to form in Reds gut, “Wiffleball and baseball sound pretty lame and boring. I would be embarrassed if my dad made me play baseball.” He spat.

Next thing any adult knew Red had Instinctively swung the large plastic bat as hard has he could in his sitting position next to Green directly into the boys face. Causing Green to drop Gary and for both boys to start wailing. Gary because he bonked his face directly into the dry, hot summer ground, and Green because his nose was now bleeding.

“At least my mom didn’t leave me by choice.” He spat before making eye contact with Blue who looked at him with wide eyes and then at Ash who started tearing up from the yelling.

“Alfred Johnston Ketchum!” Delia screeched across the yard. Making everyone, who was in shock because passive, soft spoken, and loving Red had just down that, jump at the women’s sudden scream of rage.

Red immediately let go of the bat and immediately looked between Green, his hands, and then to his mom before repeating.

———

The next time the bat was taken out of the garage, and Delia had sworn to the police that she had torn the thing up in front of all the rest of adults after the kids were sent home, was next month. Red and Green made their truce yet again for the fifth time since the end of July.

They were playing some kind of ball game out in the back of Greens Grandpa’s lab. Gary and Ash were at some kind of baby appointment so the kids were put under Oaks watch... though he isn’t really doing a lot of kid sitting when he’s staring at the TV half dead basically from the heat.

Red had gone home, while Blue went to hers and Green went down to the Professors basement, to try and find a bat. When he got into his garage, sitting right in the middle of the concrete floor, was the Wiffleball bat. Shrugging he leaped down the two steps and scooped the bat up before charging, much to his mistake, across town and back to the Oak Labs. Both Blue and Green couldn’t find a better bat at their place so they used the one Red brought.

They only lasted an hour until the sun peaked at its hottest and the parents weren’t back yet either. Probably having lunch or grocery shopping since they are in Veridian.

“I’m hot!” Blue complained. Dragging her feet and pulling at her dress. Red chose not to comment at the pit stains that were growing where her dress was pressed between her armpits. “Can’t we go inside?”

“And listen to Grandpa snore the entire time?” Green asked, Shaking his head, “absolutely not. We can’t even change the channel or else he’ll get super mad when he wakes up.” A loud snore echoed from the open window into the living room and made all three kids flinch a little. Lousy old man. “Let’s just continue on playing.”

He tossed the ball to Blue, who had the orange bat that looked even worse out in the sun, who tried to swing it but was to slow.

“I’m tired!” She threw the bat down. Tears pricking her eyes as she continued to stomp her feet like it was supposed to intimidate Red and Green besides being annoying. ”tired, hot, and hungry!”

“Oh stop being a pansy!” Green snarled. Red could only nod his head and murmur and verbal agreement with Green.

“I’m not a pansy!” Blue shouted before stomping off and into the porch. Twirling around and sinking down onto a shaded step. Crossing her arms and pointing while glaring holes into Greens head.

Reds best friend turned to him and pointed behind his back at Blue, “girls are always so weak against guys, that’s why they stay at home and take care of the babies and chores while we men do the real work.”

Next thing Red knew Green had almost fallen into him. Blue standing behind him with the Wiffleball bat raised and an angry rabid look into her eyes. Before Red could do anything to try and placate both or just one of them. Blue descended upon Green.

Hit after hit, Blue didn’t stop. A look Red had only seen in one of those horror movies on the killers face on hers. His little feet carried him into the hose before nearly barreling into Grandpa Oak who started awake with a shout.

“It’s Blue and Green,” Red panted, “their fighting and Blues trying to draw blood.”

“Fucking Arceus-“ Oak struggles to get up from the rocking recliner.

“Grandpa! Make Blue stop!” Green shouted from the backyard. Pokémon from big to small had come out fo their hidy-holes to see what was happening.

“Make me yourself coward!” Blue shouted back before a particular loud Thwak! Was heard.

“Grandpa!”

“What happened to men being stronger then girls!? Where’s your logic now you wet-willy bug-sucker!”

That had ended with the parents rushing home, police called by a bitchy neighbor named Mr. Hickiby, and an ER lady stitching the side of Greens forehead in an ambulance that was also called because Mr. Hickiby had exaggerated every detail over the call.

All three were so grounded.

———

The Wiffleball bat popped up once more around 2010, August 18 to be exact. No one knew where Ash had gotten ahold of it since the three had set fire to the bat last year. but soon he was charging out of the front entry way with Houndoom hot on his heels, speedy little fucker Ash is, and came speeding past Red who was walking home and Berliner straight for Champion Lance who was walking a bit behind Red to enjoy the view of the country side of Kanto.

Lance has bugged Red to show him his home town, not like there’s a lot to see in little ol’Pallet Town besides fields and farms and more fields. Now that Red was an equal to Lance and also technically Lance’s boss since he’s apart of the aka to Elite Four he had wanted to get to know more fo the soft spoken boy.

The Champion wasn’t expecting him to have such a terror of a little brother.

Ash had planted his feet down and slid in the loose gravel. Sliding by and swinging the Wiffleball bat as much as he could into Lance’s groin. Making the much older man double down and the force swung little Ash aroudn to where the bag had hit Lance’s ass with the same amount of force. This causes Lance to sink to his knees with a high picked whine.

Soul the Houndoom, Red and Ash’s mother’s Pokémon, barreled into Ash and bit into the loose part of a shirt and continued to tug the little seven year old back to the house.

Red had yelled at Ash without any words before turning to Lance. Not knowing what to do. All the while trying to ignore Green and Blue who chased Ash and Soul out of the house and are fucking loosing it behind the two in the grass.

Ash shouted that he was in the right because the strange weirdly dressed man, who must be higher then a kite, looked like he was gonna mug Red. That had sent Green and Blue deeper into hysteria while Red tried not to let his anger get the best of him.

———

The bat didn’t make a resurface until December 12 of 2012. Ash was nine and Red was twelve. His ass had just gotten dragged down from Mount. Silver by Green, Blue, two kids named Gold and Crystal, and then his hidden affair brother named Silver a year ago and Red was having his first Christmas with his family after two years.

Red was sleeping off a cold and Ash had just coe charging into the living room. Livid and holding the same plastic orange bat from Green and Blues memory.

“What’cha got there bud?” Gold, a fucking year older then Ash himself, asked.

“Someone,” Ash was already nearly yelling as he glare sweeper through the room, thankfully Delia had left to go last minute Christmas shopping and left everyone to watch Ash, “destroyed my snowman with this!” He shock the bat in the air before letting it fa back down by his side, “and not the hole in its stomach is bright red!”

Blue scrambled up from her slouched position on the one person seat to look out the window at Ash’s actually destroyed and fake bloodied snowman with a large red hole in the middle and red flakes everywhere. “Well damn,” she muttered, “He’s right.”

“Well I know it’s no one in here.” Green didn’t look up from his phone. Texting Lance about his orientation of being Viridian’s new gym leader after Red had knocked that greasy Mankey Giovanni down.

The others muttered their agreement, which was a mistake, and Ash raised the bat to grip it with two hands and yelled “Red you big meanie! You killed my snowman!” And then went charging up the stairs to Reds room.

The other kids were left speechless and in shock before there was a familiar loud Thwak! Noise and then a angry shout before Ash’s scream of terror then the two brothers charging down the stairs.

Ash was only saved by certain death by the hands of Red because Red was only in a shirt and some shorts and also obviously still very sick.

———

It was September 30th, 2015, and Silver had gotten his hands on it this time around. No one really stopped him as he had pinned Gomd down and had beatened him over the head continuously for four minutes before throwing the Wiffleball bat down and storming into the house. Hiding himself in Ash’s unused room, who was in Orange Isles at the time, to scream wordlessly.

Red and Green just dipped their coffee while Blue stomped forward for her own piece.

[supercasey]

Nomad of Nowhere Modern Twins AU Camping Shenanigans

I did this because I have fucking writer’s block and my new medication for my depression/anxiety is making me feel a bit sucky as I get used to it, so here, have some antics that I may or may not try writing/drawing sometime.

I’m gonna set this camping trip when Hunter and Skout are in high school (both 15) and Melinda is still in elementary school (9).

For context, Benjamin and Annabeth are absolutely nature enthusiasts- I mean, they built their own fucking house for crying out loud!- so camping trips aren’t all that out of place for them, but this time they insist that their oldest kids bring their friends from school along! (Last time they brought some of Melinda’s friends, they accidentally started a fire, and no one wants to relive that shit.)

Skout brings Toth, who’s nervous AF to meet Skout’s parents (she knows they’re pretty damn accepting and in a polyam relationship, but I doubt anyone’s all that excited to meet their significant other’s folks), while Hunter brings the Three Amigos, which of course includes Null, who he only just started dating in secret.

While Ben and Anna are really freaking hyped for the trip, Adrian is a bit less excited, as he fucking loathes outdoor activities of any kind (the family has countless pictures of them all together after a hike, and Adrian always looks close to passing out in them), but he’s excited to meet his kids’ friends!

The whole group road trips to a nice forest that they can camp in, but due to the size of their crew, they split into two vans: Benjamin, Annabeth, Skout, Toth, and Melinda are in one van, with Adrian, Hunter, Null, Santi, and Jethro are in the other.

The road trip is a fucking MESS; Ben and Anna keep arguing over directions (despite Skout offering her phone for GPS, also Ben can’t drive at all but Anna drives like a maniac), so they get lost for several hours.

In the meantime, Adrian’s van is loud AF, since the Three Amigos are a pretty rowdy bunch, and Hunter convinced his dad to let him choose the music, which is just Lemon Demon at top volume for several hours straight. Adrian is in hell and it’s Touch-Tone Telephone on repeat.

Thankfully, once they get to the campsite, things are looking up... except that Don Paragon’s family has their giant ass RV parked directly next to the family’s campsite, and Don brought Red Manuel along because his parents told him to bring a friend from school. Needless to say, none of the teens are happy to see each other outside of school.

Santi and Jethro almost get fucking lost in the woods at some point, but they end up finding a really nice little unpolluted lake to swim in when they do. They run and grab Hunter and Null to go swimming, and it’s fun until Don shows up and bitches about how since his family is wealthier, it’s his and (I guess) Red’s private lake to swim in (it isn’t), and how if they don’t leave he’ll call the cops on them (he wouldn’t).

During this rant, Toth and Skout finally catch up to the boys, and seeing Don Paragon doing his usual BS, Toth simply picks him up and tosses him into the lake, getting his fancy bathrobe and slippers soaked.

Don goes OFF, but gets cut off when Skout, who’s stronger than she looks, picks up Red and tosses him in on top of Don. Everyone laughs (even Red, though he’s smart enough to hide it), before continuing with their swim (though Don still bitches the whole time).

Meantime, the parents aren’t doing much better. Ben and Anna start engaging in a sort of “Parent Contest” with Don Paragon’s folks, trying to insist that they’re cooler parents/have better kids.

Ben vs Don’s Dad is a lot more hostile/direct, while Anna vs Don’s Mom is a lot more passive aggressive and soccer mom-like.

Ben: “Oh, yer son’s got straight A’s? Well mine can fuckin’ backflip ‘n clap at the same damn time! How ya like dat, Michael!?”

Anna: “Aw, Karen, your son is such a sweet boy! :) Remember the time he made Hunter cry, so Skout threw him off a jungle gym? :)) They grow up so fast! :)))”

Meanwhile, Adrian and the Paragon family’s butler shoot the shit over some beers and ignore their companions’ bullshit.

Despite all of the arguing earlier, Don’s folks are convinced that Hunter and Don are best friends for some reason, so they insist on doing a huge family cookout, which everyone else begrudgingly agrees to, if only because Ben is excited about eating free “rich people food” (which Adrian reminds him isn’t all that better than middle class food, but whatever).

In short; El Rey (Adrian’s dog) eats a bunch of raw hotdogs and pukes them up in Anna’s purse, Skout and Toth almost kiss but Hunter accidentally ruins it by playing his guitar right next to them, Melinda keeps sneaking punches at Don when no one’s looking because that bitch made her big bro cry a lot when he was younger, Ben accidentally sets his poncho on fire, and Null, Santi, and Jethro all get food poisoning from Adrian’s under-cooked hamburgers.

At one point, Nomad (Hunter’s cat) runs off after hearing a loud bang from the woods. At this point, it’s really late at night, and Nomad is a black cat, so no one can find him. Hunter goes into hysterics, as Nomad is his closest friend/therapy cat, so after all the parents go to bed, the teens agree to put aside their differences and go to find Nomad.

Don, of course, makes it about himself and insists he’ll find the cat first, and when he does, he expects Hunter (he makes a mean joke about Skout needing to do it for him) to give him a sincere thank you, and then an apology for his family’s horrid behavior towards him! With that, he storms off, Red Manuel hot on his heels but looking a bit... frustrated? How very weird.

Hunter is so freaked out, he just starts running through the woods looking for Nomad, but luckily for him, Melinda can keep up with him. She’s trying to get him to go back to the campsite, as he’s too worked up to be looking for Nomad, and after trying and failing to talk him into listening to her, Melinda simply sits down and fake-sobs, saying she’s scared. Snapped out of it by big brother instincts, Hunter picks her up and takes her back to camp to wait with her until someone finds Nomad.

Seeing as the Three Amigos are as sick as El Rey was earlier (oh dear god, did Anna flip about the puke in her purse), it’s up to Skout, Toth, Don, and Red to find Nomad.

Toth and Skout use the time to talk in privacy, discussing future plans and how this trip has gone. Skout is embarrassed, worried that Toth hated this trip/hates her family, while Toth is convinced she made a bad impression on Skout’s parents. It’s a bit awkward, but they manage to convey their worries to each other and have them reassured away.

During this moment, they end up in a nice little clearing with dandelions sprouting everywhere. Skout laughs, and says something about how although she thinks the Dandy Lion mascot at school is dumb, she’s always loved dandelions. Toth, in response, plucks the largest one and braids it into Skout’s hair.

Skout’s Honor finally gets their fucking kiss, since up until now it’s kept almost happening, but due to public embarrassment/awkwardness, they’ve held back. Now though, away from everyone, they get enough privacy to have their first ever kiss.

Of course, it doesn’t last long before Red Manuel pokes his head through the trees and asks what tf they’re doing. Both girls go scarlet, insisting it was nothing, while Red simply cackles.

Toth goes to punch him in the jaw, but stops mid-swing when Red, in a panic, holds up Nomad to stop her.

Both Toth and Skout are baffled, surprised that Red managed to catch Nomad. Toth, who’s never much liked Red, asks why tf he’s not trying to use Nomad as leverage over them, or better yet, why didn’t he give Nomad to Don so he could use the cat to bully Hunter some more.

For the first time ever, Red seems genuinely upset with Don, and vents to the couple that Don Paragon’s been an asshole to him the entire trip, and only brought him along to make himself look good in front of his parents. He goes on to say that Don ordered him not to talk in front of his folks, and although Red hated the very idea, he agreed because it was better than staying at home with his mom all summer.

Skout grows concerned immediately, and tries to ask about Red’s mom, but he clams up, insisting that Skout just take her brother’s dumb cat (who seems to really like Red) because he doesn’t want to listen to Hunter freak out anymore.

After Hunter is finally reunited with Nomad, he’s absolutely ecstatic, hugging his cat while dancing around with joy. Once Skout tells him that Red Manuel found Nomad, Hunter doesn’t hesitate to run and hug him. Red obviously enjoys the affection, but he tries to play it off nonetheless.

Don eventually finds out that Nomad was found, and freaks tf out about how he was supposed to find him, and that he was supposed to get an apology, dammit!

Toth fucking snaps, telling Don straight up that he’s a piece of shit and should just be happy that Nomad got found, to which Don says pointblank that he wishes Nomad had gotten eaten by a bear, if only so he could see that “R-slur mute’s” face when he found the cat’s remains. Hunter starts crying, horrified by the mental imagery, while Don laughs at him, calling Hunter a pussyboy for crying. Red Manuel, in his rage at his so-called friend’s terrible behavior, punches Don in the dick.

Don is Surprised Pikachu Face(TM), because what tf is Red doing? He’s supposed to be Don’s little yes-man! Tbh, everyone is shocked, and Red finally loses his shit, shouting that Don is an awful fucking friend, and that he resents even knowing him.

((Me? Craving a future Red Manuel Redemption Arc(TM) almost as much as Season 2 of NoN? It’s more likely than you think.))

By now, the parents start waking up, and Don’s dad asks his son what’s going on. Smirking, and with his back turned to his father, Don says that Red is going to be going home with Hunter’s family, as he believes he’s about to strand Red in the wilderness as payback.

Red is freaked out, and makes to beg for Don’s forgiveness, when Skout outright confirms that yes, Red is coming with them, because Red is their friend!

Don is shocked again, but his parents just shrug and tell everyone to go back to bed. Adrian and Ben (the only ones who woke up, because Anna’s a heavy sleeper) are confused, but when Skout tells them that Red needs a ride later, they just shrug and say something like “Eh, what’s one more fucking kid?”

Red is nervous as fuck the next morning, still reeling over what he said to Don, but everyone (even the Three Amigos, who are all still pretty sick) assure him that he did the right thing.

Ben, Anna, and Adrian agree to pack up a bit early that morning, on account of the Paragon family terrorizing them, the Three Amigos getting sick, and almost losing Nomad. However, to make up for the short and crazy trip, they offer to host a slumber party at their house for all the teens, which everyone is on-board with.

Red’s a bit hesitant to agree, and says they can just drop him off near his place and he can leave them be, but Ben, sensing the kid’s anxiety, assures him that he’s welcome to stay with them for the night. After Skout tells him the same thing (with Hunter nodding in agreement), Red agrees, and has an awesome time with everyone!

At the start of the next school year (sophomore year/10th grade), Red Manuel goes back to hanging out with Don Paragon, but he’s noticeably less mean to the twins, and even gets caught helping Hunter pick up his books a few times when Don knocks them out of his hands in the hall.

Sorry, this kinda ended up as more of an “I love Red Manuel, or at least, my characterization of him” rant, but oh well, I hope y’all like my dumb rambling anyways!

[chiimmchiimm]

❝𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑒 ❞

CHAPTERS “  01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -  11  - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “  

The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of ​​going to shower alone.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair). 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒:  smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 3 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔:  +18   𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔:  dirty language, proposals, mood swings, spectacular bodies, muscles, biceps, problems, future friends?

 Mrs. Smith had caught a viral illness and they had closed the library. I had soon received the order to change my daily tasks. Although I never get used to the thick dust of books, I always enjoy silence. The isolation provided by that modest place helped me improve my mental state. Now instead, I was going to my new homework along with Dallas. It turns out that his co-worker has suffered a mishap and has broken his wrist, although everyone knows that it has not been an accident. Silly peccary if I said that the director is not aware of the constant fights that are generated between the dams. The woman simply manages to administer the jail because of course, after all, that a fight ends with a woman in the hospital was none of her business.

"It's easy, all you have to do is pick up towels and put them in the big bucket here."Your directions make me look away at the cart full of dizzy towels. He wrinkled his nose when a sweat thief rises through my nostrils. Hadn't he said it? Now my job is to collect everything that men leave on the gym floor. When the smell is unbearable, I plug my nose to prevent my poor stability from going through people's dirt. Dallas rolls his eyes for my drama."The nose is a wise mechanism, in the end you will get used to it and if not, then steal a clamp from the laundry area."

"Why do we have to pick up what they throw on the floor?" Isn't it easier for everyone to pick up their own?

Dallas ignores my comment, shrugs and points the other end of the gym with his arm.

"Take care of that part." I feel a bit of annoyance in his order, although he has been with incredible mood swings I decide not to light his fuse and nod to avoid getting to argue in a public place. I don't take two steps when his scream stops me. "If you avoid touching them much better!"

And how am I supposed to catch them except with the mind?

The first towel I pick up is projected at my feet, I bent down to get it and then I realize that it has been a bad idea.

A huge hand patted my right buttock with so much need that I was just pushed forward. The slap reaches my ears and my eyes close when an itchy nothing starts to prick the area. The towel slips from my fingers and falls. I get right immediately. A man much taller than me collides with my shoulder as he passes by my side, his infernal laugh betrays him. I begin to expel imaginary smoke through my ears when he turns around and gives me a flying kiss as he walks backwards. I am so obnoxious that I am sure that if I try to hit him I would end up being the beaten. I was never good at self defense, and as you can deduce melee fight either. He looked away at one of the many empty punching bags. Forgetting my main task, I approach and the first thing that comes to mind is to punch him. The sack does not move, however, my knuckles end up bumping painfully against the hard surface, he pulled his hand away as I open it and close it. An impatient growl comes out of my lips as I shake my wrist. I am so pathetic that my attack of rage has turned against me. And if that wasn't enough, now I have a mark on the butt and the knuckles in live meat.

"You gave it wrong." A hoarse voice sounds behind my back. While moving my wrist intensely to reduce the pain, I turn around. I open my eyes nervously while my chest is agitated it rises when I hyperventilate. Thirteen boasts in front of me as he crosses his arms. He is naked from the waist up. Your clavicle bone catches my attention when it is marked under your skin. The tanned skin shines with sweat, small droplets coming down her face wetting a couple of strands. A naughty drop goes down her slender neck to her abs, then disappears into her gray sports pants. Swallow saliva His gaze is so intense that my mouth opens involuntarily due to the dryness inside. I don't know how long I've been admiring the perfection of his body but it doesn't seem to bother him. Coming out of my mental fantasy, I dazedly remember what he has told me.

"How does it happen?" I ask confused. Together the eyebrows while my nose wrinkles to complement my gesture of absolute novice. Thirteen snorts slowly through his mouth, I think I'm hallucinating because for a moment I think I see the shadow of a smile. I take steps back when he approaches me. My back crashes into the sack, when the wet wet my clothes disgusted me.

Thirteen places the bag in its initial position, then takes a quick look with a raised eyebrow.

"I did not believe you a woman of violence, gongjunim." Her tone deepens so much that it can be confused perfectly with a snore. A snore too sensual. Stretch your hand to reach the hook of the bag with the roof. His arm passes inches from my eyes delighting me with strong muscles, he has some tattoos decorating his skin. The damn heart on his wrist that brought such bad memories has not stopped attracting my attention. Even though he has more like that crown on his ring finger or that phrase in an old language on his rib. It was as surreal as that well-formed limb ended up joining another place with sweet resemblance to the touch as was his shoulder. The bag moves violently to the sides when it rises high. He catches it in his big venous hands so he stops swinging.

"Anger is a feeling that everyone has, Thirteen." I don't know what moment I felt confident to speak, but without a doubt, my daring plays a blush on my cheeks when his deer eyes watch me with a special shine

“Who has bothered you so much that you decide to pay your frustrations with a punching bag?” He says the words with a flash of amusement. However, there is some warning in the way his shoulders tense. I can't figure out if he really wants me to tell him my reasons or it has simply been a rhetorical question that I haven't seen coming. I had not seen him for a week. Well, actually it was he who didn't see me. This ambiguous situation was turning my head, I was a witness when I saw him change the hall because he didn't want to cross me. He even got to the point of depriving himself of his hours outdoors so as not to see me. And now here I was, with such a relaxed attitude that I was surprised, wondering and engaging in what was probably our longest conversation.

"I don't understand you." Confusion dominates my tone. My eyes wander restlessly on the floor in search of lucidity but everything stays in a spoiled attempt."You told me to stay away and here you are. And for a demon, what does gonjunim mean?”

"Gongjunim" he repeated.

I rolled my eyes in response.

"How sea!"

"Hit him."

“What?” Confused by his change of subject, he frowned. Thirteen offers me the punching bag with a slight push. Under my eyes to the red knuckles and then scrap his offer. However, his effort does not cease and with a I tap the sack with my elbow, it hits my stomach, I raise an eyebrow, I know it's waiting for me to react, but the only thing I can think of is to slap the skin bag.

"You have to hit him with the middle of your fist." It interferes through blind security. Take my hand and place it at the height of your abdomen. I follow the quiet movement of his fingers when they make an impromptu fist. To avoid further mistake proceed to spread circular caresses around the area of ​​my fingers. Intense chills slip through the entire length of my arm. His cold gem compared to my hot skin was an explosion of mixture that my body did not let go. I was being cute. I never thought I lived to see him in that facet, I was so focused on his work that I didn't notice the stunned look that my narrowed eyes were reflecting. Without waiting for it, he struck my fist against the sack. Shock when it hits the surface. He let go of my hand letting it go down. I was surprised, it hadn't hurt.

"How do you know that trick?"

I took my head off my hand to direct it towards the sack. Although I had not moved because of the lightness of my attack. Analyze better the marks that were all over your skin. Traces of glorious strokes that would leave his name printed forever. I had been so despised that at no time had I realized that the place I had hit had been the yellow zone. With little experience, that was the softest one, the one reserved for newbies who initially did not want to break their hands. Thirteen should have put it to my disposal when he raised the sack. If you paid attention to the dashed lines, the red zone and much higher, the black one, were so far away that not even a million jumps would come. Why had he done it? Whenever he has hurt, he has done it. Is it that he doesn't want to do it anymore?

Putting aside any unanswered questions, I dare to look askance. I just give him a complete look when I see him distracted while he analyzes the bag too focused. The hair covers my eyes, countless impulses suffocate my fingers when thoughts come from combing the facts behind. It seemed to me if your hair will look as soft as imagined.

"Let's say life teaches you many things." - He inhales, drops a melancholic sigh as he clicks his tongue. He seems too lost in a storm of painful memories. He wasn't sure if he added anything or just didn't open his mouth, he didn't want to change his mood either.His words were mixed with something I could not decipher. His phrase could be understood in two different fibers by the apparent ambiguity that his gesture showed, however, the neutral tone could only mean one thing and it was not pleasant. "Do you want to learn to fight?"

His laughing change leaves me on the site.

"Me?" He points me confused. Then I deny incredulous. "But I am a disaster."

"I was too when I haven't yet ..." but he closes his mouth so quickly that his words stay in the air. "I can teach you the basics."

Now, it's my turn to get lost in the scratchy texture of the sack. If I was excited he left speechless. It does not look like him, rather it seems a child who dies because I am a game. But he is not a good person and much less, he could have the innocence of a child.

"Sure, so I owe you a favor later, right?" "I am consciously aware that half of the men have put their exercise routine aside to look at us." Thirteen frowns when he occupies a face of irritability on his face. Find another one to suck your friends' dicks.I don't need your help, Thirteen.”

I try to turn around but his hand closes around my wrist and turns me sharply towards him.

"You should control that effusive character you have and learn to listen before drawing your own shit conclusions." He growls, seems altered as he wrinkles his nose in my direction. His sharp jaw is raised. His eyes open with exaggeration. "I do not deny that the system favors is not useful. However, what I had in mind for you was completely different from the last time."

"I won't be your sex toy."

"What?" Squeaky, in a funny air that relaxes his features in a matter of seconds. My cheeks turn red from my thinking out loud. I close my eyes in shame, but I open them again immediately when a melodious laugh enters my ears. I can clearly see the way in which their corners are stretched to form a smile, the way in which their teeth shine is so particular that I cannot look away. He has the smile of a bunny. "Dallas told me you were good with numbers." What I was going to propose at the beginning is that you help me with the bets.

"I don't want to participate in your illegal scams to increase my sentence to nine years."

"Think about it." Humming. "You could make money, it's not a bad plan."

“Illegal money?” He snorted gracefully.

"Wasn't it you who embezzled two million dollars to the state?"

"I don't ... You know what? I don't care what you think. I try to get away but his hitch prevents me. Could you please let go? "

"Think about it." Repeat, raise an eyebrow and release me. To my surprise it has not sounded like an order but as an advice that I should keep in mind. I turn around and continue on my way to the towel lost on the floor. This time I make sure I don't show too much before bending down to pick it up.

In strides too steep I walk through the area of ​​my module. I look like a train too agitated by all the imaginary smoke that comes out of my ears. Finally, it was my turn to collect all the towels on my own because Dallas had left early for strange reasons. For the sake of my self-control I hope for your sake that I won't catch her sleeping because if so, may God have mercy of what I will do to him. A sweaty man climbs up my nose, I have to grab a few moments to the ladder so as not to fall collapsed. Men really have a serious hygiene problem.

He turned the corner to my cell when he hit a squalid body.

"Be careful, fool." Someone reprimands me from a distance. I lift my head from the ground and then I recognize her.

"What are you doing here?" I bring out a grunt full of warning to the pale girl with black hair, also known as "the Shanghai puppy dog." I don't have to ask him about his evil partner because he appears right after. He looks me up and down apparently thinking it wasn't worth it.

"Come on, Ginger." We've already finished.

The pale girl aka the curve girl, nods accepting his orders.

They advance through the extensible corridor.

"What were you doing in my cell?"

Shanghai turns to see me when he hears my voice.

"This is not just your cell, little doll."

Confused, I walk slowly. Dallas is sitting on the bed with her eyes lost. Playing with her restless fingers while hiding her neck between her shoulders.

"Did he tell you anything?" My question seems to scare her because she flinches. My curiosity increases when I hear the sound of his saliva falling down his throat. "That Asian is a psycho who looks to bother you just because you're my friend."

"Blair." My name comes out trembling from his lips, too carefully. I stop cursing when I perceive the shaking of his body, he's really scared. Apart from the fact that he called me for my man and not for that stupid nickname, I decide to sit by his side to give him my emotional support. "I think I'm in trouble ..."

"Tell me something new, go." I comment with a comic wrapped in a dramatic snort. However, his paleness does not change to liveliness, which scares me even more.

"I asked Shanghai a favor a while ago and now I don't know how to give it back."

His confession causes him to open his eyes overwhelmed by panic.

"What have you done what?" But as you can think of ...— I close my mouth as I perceive how his mood is constantly deteriorating. It is not a time for discussions that you do not need. "What favor have you done?" I get his silence in response. "Lucy."

Straining a hand under the pillow, take out an envelope. You leave it at my disposal, your suggestion is so obvious that I decide to find out its content myself. I open it. What my eyes see is so shocking that I blink a few times to verify its reality. I put my hand and take out the predictor that, as indicated, is positive.

"I'm pregnant."

My lips peel off, remaining inert for the news.

"It's complicated to get this kind of thing in here."

“Why didn't you go to the doctor?” My question seems to cause him an inhuman discomfort because he frowns.

"Because I don't want anyone to know."

"But what kind of selfishness is that, Lucy? Jimin has the right to know you're pregnant."

"Lower your voice!" His reprimand leaves me frozen. His childish attitude is showing me how immature he is in this type of situation. I don't understand why he reacts like that. It's an act too simple, you just have to tell him the truth. "No one can find out about this, Blair. Much less Jimin. Please ..."

"But he is the father ..."

"Please," he implores, clasp his hands as he falls to his knees before me. She is so desperate that she no longer cares that some wandering dams stare.

"How much do you owe him?"

Lucy lifts her head from the ground, the brightness of hope is more noticeable than before but fear still dominates.

"More than we could put together in two days." He lowers his tone when melancholy clashes with his reality. I close my eyes, inhale in a deep scream because I know I'm going to regret this.

"I know where you can get money."

                                                             ✞

NEXT 

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

We Could Be Heroes

Attending a university on the border between Xadia and Katolis, Callum and Rayla have been secretly together for a year now. Coming clean to their families is one thing. Announcing their relationship to the public is another.

_____________________________________________________________

“You know, if you want to talk to her you have to actually talk to her.”  Callum was jolted out of his stupor as Claudia brought him back to reality.  “I swear, you haven’t been this bad since before we dated.  You’ve been pining after her for a year; maybe it’s time to say something.”  Claudia was smirking while sipping her hot brown morning potion; the hustle and bustle of the university cafeteria completely ignored by the pair.

“She’s an elf, Claudia.  A Moonshadow elf, at that.  You know how they feel about humans.”  Callum shifted the eggs on his plate in an efforts to distract himself from Claudia’s prodding.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you like her.  And she might like you.”

Callum couldn’t stop the awkward laugh as he began to look everywhere but at his friend.  “Don’t say things like that in public.  What if someone-”

"What, Callum?  Figures out you are crushing on a girl you’ve shared classes with since your first semester?  She’s pretty and clever, and, from what Soren says whenever he goes to the gym, really athletic.  You’d be stupid not to like her.  You’re a prince and on your way to become an archmage.  She wouldn’t be getting the short-end of the stick by liking you.”

“She doesn’t like me Claudia.  Nothing is going to happen between us.”  Claudia sighed before reaching over and patting Callum’s hand.  “Why do you want something to happen between?”

Claudia shrugged before turning her neck to look at Rayla.  “Because I want you to be happy.  You light up when you talk about her and smile more after you work together.  She makes you happy, Callum.”

Callum blushed and looked down at his own cup of morning potion.  “Don’t tell anyone, Claudia.”

“Soren knows.”

Callum nodded his head from side to side a bit.  “Why am I not surprised?”

                                           _____________________

Rayla was doing her best to discreetly look at the two humans a few tables away.  Her frequent project partner, Callum, and his friend, Claudia.  Rayla and Claudia did not get along at first, mostly due to Claudia using dark magic while Callum had somehow managed to unlock Sky magic.  Claudia still didn’t see anything wrong with dark magic and it made Rayla, and every other elf in their vicinity, wary of her.  The other reason they didn’t get along?  Claudia wouldn’t stop bugging Rayla about Callum.

“You’re looking at that human prince again, Rayla,” Bandlr, a fellow Moonshadow elf hissed.  He was just a bit taller than Runaan and covered in toned muscles.  The sloping purple marks on his cheeks reminded Rayla of the scythes used during harvest time.  He exuded power and arrogance with every little move he made and tended to have either a scowl or a smirk on his face.  

“I’m doing no such thing,” she stated absently.

“You better not or your uncle will be pissed.”

“Is that a threat?”  Rayla glared over at him and could feel the energy crackling between the two.  They lived in the same small town and had known most of the same people since high school.  For Rayla, it had been hate at first sight, finding his arrogance and knowledge of her life the biggest turn-off she had ever encountered.  He was a thorn in her side that just wouldn’t go away, no thanks to the other Moonshadow elves at the university not wanting to kick one of their own out without ‘proper cause’.  For Bandlr, it had been lust at first sight.  He spent all his time with Rayla either antagonizing her or trying to charm her.  He had once told her that he wouldn’t mind it if she came to him in a fit of rage, just so long as she did.

“Maybe.  You know how to shut me up.”

“You’re right.  I do.”  Rayla leaned in a bit, Bandlr smiling wide as she did.  He never saw the punch that went straight to his jaw.  “Try to talk with a sore jaw, asshole.  Don’t forget, I’m faster than you and I was trained by the best.”

Bandlr glared as he massaged his already bruising jaw.  The other elves at the table let the two be, already used to Bandlr’s flirts and Rayla’s violent reaction to them.  Sadly for Rayla, it only made him convinced she was a ‘challenge’ for the ‘taking’.  “To be fair, Rayla,” interjected a girl with long braids, “you spend a lot of time with this Prince Callum.  I don’t think anyone back home would approve.  Just because our school is on the border of Katolis and Xadia doesn’t mean you can go fraternizing with humans.”

“Ugh.”  Rayla looked up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes.  “For the last time, back off.  I’m going back to the library.”  Rayla grabbed her things, roughly pushed her chair in and stalked off, but not before bumping into Callum and Claudia.  “Watch it.”  Callum simply nodded as he turned away from her while Claudia raised a brow.  “Got something to say?”

“The sexual tension between the two of you is so thick I could cut it with a knife.  Just tell him you like him.”

“Mind your own business, Claudia.”  Rayla walked as quickly as she could out of the cafeteria and headed towards the apartment complexes off-campus.  She continued to look behind her and to the sides as she walked.  Rayla eventually stopped in front of a luxurious apartment building and entered the large glass doors.  The human doorman smiled and greeted her.

“Another project with Prince Callum, Miss Rayla?”

“You could say that.  He texted me that he’s on his way, so I’ll wait for him by his door.”

“Of course, Miss Rayla.”

Up the elevator she went and waited in front of a door on the top floor.  It was one of only two, reserved for important dignitaries.  ‘Fucking Bandlr.  When is he going to get it through his thick skull to leave me alone?’  Rayla’s hand grasped her bag as she bit her lip.  ‘They know I’m spending a lot of time with Callum.  Who else has noticed?’  She was pulled from her thoughts by a hand softly grasping her’s.  “Callum.”

“We going to do that project, Rayla?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.”  Callum nodded as he unlocked the key to his apartment and let her in first.  Rayla was always struck by how minimalist Callum kept the large space.  The base of the room was obviously expensive while Callum chose to hang his own art and art that one of his fathers had done.  Pictures of his family were dispersed among the opulence of the walls and floors.  The furniture was a different story, obviously on the cheaper end, but well taken care of.  Callum had felt guilty taking the extravagant room so he had asked for cheaper materials to make his space a home while he was at school.  “No one would ever believe me if I told them your apartment was the definition of high-low.”  Rayla deposited her bag on the chair closest to the door, grabbing Callum’s bag and doing the same right after.

“You’ve been telling people that you come here?”  The slight bit of hope in his voice was clear as day.

“No, of course not.  If I did, they might think something was going on between us.”  Callum looked down at the floor, that glint of hope suddenly dashed.  “They don’t have to know anything is going on.”  Rayla didn’t give Callum a chance to nod before she had his face in her hands and her lips against his.  Callum wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure his door was locked.  Rayla backed him up to his couch and they tumbled down, with her landing between his legs and his other hand landing on her back.  “I’ve missed you.”

Callum groaned as she began to nibble at his neck.   “It’s only been a week.”

“Uh-huh.  A week of not seeing other or texting…or those naughty phone calls you seem so fond of.”  Callum gulped.  Rayla sat up and began to take off her top.  “Pants off.  Now.”

“You don’t want me to romance you a bit?”  He brushed his hands lightly against her stomach, causing her to quiver above him.

“Later.  Now, I just want you.”  Callum took off his pants and boxers and laid back.  Rayla pulled off her shirt and her own pants and underwear.  She quickly climbed on top of him and grasped his length.  “I’m gonna go fast and I’m gonna go hard.  Alright?”   He nodded, reaching to grab her hips.  She had a lot of pent up frustration in her and Callum knew by now that it was wisest to let her take the lead.  Rayla inserted Callum within her.  They groaned together as Rayla grinded on top of him.  Quickly picking up pace, she leaned back so her hands were resting on his legs.

Not fully satisfied, Rayla came back up and grabbed Callum by his shirt to pull him up to her.  She sealed his lips to hers, grasping his shoulders to give her better leverage.  Callum ran circles on her hips with his thumbs.  Rayla broke the kiss to nibble at his ear.  “Ray…”

“Almost, Callum.  Almost.”  Rayla had never been shy about what she wanted from him and she wasn’t going to start now.  She took one of his hands from her hips to rest right on her clit.  “You know what to do.”  A sharp nod led to Callum leaning forward and nibbling on her shoulder while circling her.  “Ah!”

Callum moved his head to whisper a husky ‘I love you’ in her ear.  She quietly repeated it back, locking their lips again.  A few thrusts more led Callum and Rayla to completion.  He gently laid back, taking her with him.  “I missed you, too.”        

As they lay on his couch, covered in sweat and panting together, he ran his hand up and down her back.  Rayla snuggled her face into his neck, mindful of her horns.  “Mhmm, that feels nice.”

“Why did you punch Bandlr today?”

Good mood broken, Rayla broke out into a scowl.  “Ugh, the jackass was getting on my nerves.  Threatening to tell Runaan about me looking at you.”

“Oh.  Would…would that really be such a bad thing?”  His hopeful tone had come back full swing and Rayla hated crushing it.

“Callum, we’ve talked about this.  Just because the elves and humans are no longer at war doesn’t mean that we’re at peace.”

“I don’t want us to be a secret, Rayla.  Not anymore.  It was nice, for a while, but I want to be more.”

“What more do you want?  We have dinner together, we’re exclusive, I spend the night often enough.  What more is there?”

Callum shifted so he could look Rayla in the eyes.  “I want you to meet my Dad and Ezran.  Well, you’ve met Ezran, but I want you to meet him as my girlfriend.  I want to meet Runaan and Tinker and hold your hand on campus and-”

“And what happens if it blows up in our faces?”  Rayla closed her eyes to try to keep he anger at bay.  This wasn’t the first time they had argued about this and she didn’t want him to know exactly why she didn’t want to tell anyone about their relationship.  “You do realize that Runaan could pull me out of school, right?  Just because I’m an adult in Katolis doesn’t mean that he isn’t allowed to make those decisions for me in Xadia.  The press will hound us both.  Why do you want to ruin what we have?”  She began to wriggle out of his hold, frustration making her want to move far away from him.

“Why are you scared of what we have?”

“I’m not scared.”  Rayla got up, pulled on her underwear and began to move towards the kitchen, Callum following her as he pulled his own boxers up.  She went into the cabinet and got a purple glass out as she looked back at him.  “I have my own glass here, Callum.  I have a whole drawer of my clothes in your apartment.  Anyone who looks closely enough at my texts would know that I’ve been deleting more than half of the ones from you.  I keep a freaking toothbrush in your bathroom!  Do you think I would do any of that, of this, if I was scared?”  Her arms were wide and disbelief on her face.  Why couldn’t he understand just how big all of that was?

He gave her an incredulous look as the same frustration that had taken over her began to seep into his voice.  “Yes, because you and I are the only people that know that any of your stuff is here.”

“I thought you wanted to stay out of the spotlight-”

“Don’t change the subject, Rayla.  It has never been about us going public with the world.  It’s about telling our families.  It’s ALWAYS been about telling our families.  Do you think I like telling Ezran that there is nothing between us?  I have never had to keep secrets from him before and I don’t like doing it now.”  Rayla understood that.  Ezran was understanding and had a big heart.  She couldn’t imagine anyone felt good after lying to him, least of all Callum.

“And what about your dear Aunt Amaya?  Doesn’t she hate elves?”

“She’s marrying a Sunfire elf named Janai.  Try again.”

Rayla paused as she looked at him with furrowed brows.  “Is she really?”

“It’s all over the news in Katolis.  ‘General of the Katolian Army chooses to marry a general of the Sunfire Corps.’”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.”  A rough sigh followed by a groan as she got her thoughts back to the topic at hand.  “Callum, I want to tell them.  I would love to tell Runaan and Tinker about you.”

“Then why can’t we?”

“You don’t see the way the elves look at you.  Not just the Moonshadow groups, but all the others.  You’re a human prince, even if it is by marriage.  King Harrow has not hidden how much he considers you to be his son and you have a target on your back from anyone who doesn’t like him.  On top of that, you’re learning primal magic.  There are elves that think you’re dangerous because you are the first human ever to learn how to use primal magic without a primal stone.  Do you think that you being with an elf is really going to make them think ‘oh, that Prince Callum isn’t such a bad guy?  Sure, he’s learning how to use primal magic and is trying to unlock the ability to use all six primal sources, but damn, he’s dating an elf.’”

“So, me wanting to learn magic the right way and rejecting dark magic is the problem?”  Callum’s hands were in his hair at this point as Rayla looked ready to throw her glass on the floor.  She quickly put it on the counter before she broke it.

“No, Callum.  The problem is that you’re human.  There are elves all over Xadia that will never accept you, accept us, no matter what you do.”

“Why do you care about them?”

“Because I don’t want to come home to you dead!  OK?!  I don’t want to walk into your apartment, after we went public or decided it was okay to make-out in the library, just to find your body or to have you end up dead in an alleyway.”  All of Rayla’s fears began to pour out of her.  She couldn’t stop once she started and wasn’t sure she wanted to.  Callum needed to hear why she was fighting him on telling anyone about them.  “I was trained in the arts of Moonshadow elf assassins.  I know of ways to kill you and make sure that no one will ever find out it was me.  And you can bet that I’m not the only one that knows that.  Bandlr would be first in line if we went public and if he doesn’t succeed, someone else will.  Runaan has a lot of respect among Moonshadow elves, but there are still many more elves and humans who will target you.  Your life isn’t worth it, Callum.  Us telling our families will only lead to the wrong person finding out.”  She was so furious she never saw him walk around the counter to stand in front of her.

Callum grabbed her shoulders and put his forehead against her’s.  “Do you think I haven’t thought of that?  Of course I have!  Just like I have a target on my back, you will have one on your’s.  There are people all over the Pentarchy who want elves to stay in Xadia and humans to stay in their kingdoms.  There was outrage when Dad announced I was going to school right on the border.  When I told a newspaper that I was going to learn primal magic and refuse to learn dark magic, the number of human mages who rioted…I didn’t know there were that many in Katolis alone.  And it would probably get much worse if they found out my girlfriend was an elf.”

“Then why is this so important to you?”  Callum cupped her face and stroked her cheeks.  It was getting harder to look meet his gaze when he looked at her with so much love and adoration.

“Because I love you.  And I don’t want to hide it anymore.  I know my family will love you and their opinion is the only one that matters to me.  Claudia and Soren already keep pushing me to confess to you and Ezran thinks of you as his big sister.  I never, ever would have introduced you to Ezran if I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted to be with you.  I want to meet Tinker and Runaan and tell them I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.  We won’t know unless we try, Rayla.  We’ll get through this.  Together.”

Rayla sighed as she looked Callum in the eye.  The desperation in those green eyes of his let her know that he was serious about this.  “If we try, and I mean if, you’re going to have to learn a lot more about Moonshadow elf culture.  History class is one thing, but you can really, really piss Runaan off if you do the wrong thing.”

“Like what?”  Callum moved his hands up to lightly run his fingertips over the base of one of her horns, sending shivers down her spine as a gasp left her lips.  The burn in her belly she had just worked off was back full-force.

“Like that.  In any elf culture, you might as well have grabbed my ass while your tongue was down my throat.”

“Noted.  Horns are only for behind closed doors.  Anything else?”

“Stop stroking my horn and maybe I’ll be able think.”

Callum released her with a long-suffering sigh.  “Fine.  I guess I can keep my hands off you for a few minutes.”

Rayla snorted as she lightly nudged him backwards.  “We tend to spend a lot of time outdoors.  Training is outside, lots of festivals and camping trips.  It’s not unusual for families to spend nights when the moon is full in their yards.  Weddings are outside, too, as are major parties, like birthdays, graduations, and anniversaries,” Rayla counted on her fingers.  “Weddings tend to be the night before the full moon and the actual honeymoon starts on the night of the full moon.  Something about the moon granting love and fertility and fidelity.  When it rains, we go places that have large windows so we can still see the moon at night.  Think you can handle all that time outside?”

“I’m sure I’ll make it work.  I’ve had to rough it once or twice.”

“If by ‘rough it’ you mean spending time in the Banther Lodge, you are in for a rude awakening.”

[nayutai]

|| Trapped ||

Word Count: 3496

Warnings: BUFF YOONGI!!!, unprotected sex (condoms are great. use them), public sex, cursing, creampie, quickie, nipple biting....I think that’s it

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Secret Santa Project and I’m so happy that I got to participate! Thanks for reading ♥

“Babe, is all of this really necessary?” I ask playfully as Yoongi adjusts his ladder in order to put the star topper on the massive tree he’d insisted on getting to celebrate our first Christmas together as a married couple. A 15-foot behemoth of a tree – artificial because neither of us has a desire to clean up pine needles – taking up half of our foyer isn’t exactly ideal but Yoongi had been so excited about it that I just couldn’t turn him down. You would think that the fact that we’re not even spending Christmas in Korea would’ve deterred him but he didn’t even think twice about it.

“It’s Christmas, you scrooge. Of course, it’s necessary.” I can’t see his face from where I sit on the couch, but the incredulous tone in his voice tells me everything I need to know. We’ve been together long enough that at this point I can tell if he’s coming down with a cold simply by the sound of his voice – it always drops half an octave before he shows his first symptom – so I’m willing to bet my sanity he’s wearing the same expression he usually gives Jin when his former roommate tells one of his corny jokes. The look that says, “you idiot”.

“Have you even finished packing yet?” I ask, bringing up once again his lack of luggage by the door, hoping that his answer will be different than what I feel in my chest that it will be. Yoongi’s large hands freeze around the golden star they’re fiddling with. My eyes narrow in on the way the tips of his ears slowly start turning red. This man has spent the entire day decorating a Christmas tree we won’t even be here to enjoy but he hasn’t finished packing for the week-long trip we’ve been planning for months. Fantastic. Our flight leaves in just over twenty-four hours and my precious husband is behaving like it leaves in twenty-four days. Fantastic. “Min Yoongi you get off that ladder right now and pack your fucking bags.”

Yoongi sighs deeply but stubbornly continues to fiddle with the tree topper as I glare at the side of his face. He takes his sweet time descending the ladder and even longer to fold it up and lean the piece of equipment against the wall. I raise my eyebrow at his grumbling form as he walks past the couch towards the stairs. A mischievous giggle escapes me as I kick my leg out, hitting him squarely on the ass. That little trick earns me an upturned middle finger and as he shuffles up the stairs like a grumpy twelve-year-old who’s been sent to clean his room.

I jog up the stairs after him a few minutes later to check his progress. I’m not entirely surprised to see him curled up in the middle of our bed next to his open suitcase and a pile of clothes. He’s so concentrated on whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone that he doesn’t even register the fact that I’ve entered the room until it’s too late. The sudden sound of me yelling nearly sends him flying headfirst off the side of our bed.

“Jesus Christ! I knew you wanted me dead.” He says dramatically, holding a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know that Holly is the beneficiary on all of my life insurance policies so killing me is useless.” I don’t even dignify his foolishness with a response. Instead, I set about packing his suitcases myself since Yoongi obviously can’t be bothered. He tosses in his favorite pajama set but leaves the bulk of the work to me while whining about how I should rub his shoulders since he spent all day decorating a tree that he wanted. I pointedly ignore him and continue packing because I’ll be damned if I’m going to listen to him complain about forgetting something because he threw whatever he could touch in a bag at the last minute.

*   *   *

The hustle and bustle of the Incheon airport is like music to my ears as I practically bounce through the sparsely populated hallway leading to the private entrance. Yoongi is hot on my heels. The two of us are dressed as if we’ve just stepped off the runway for New York Fashion Week and not like we’re about to sit on a plane for thirteen hours. Being in BTS means that Yoongi is accustomed to putting a little extra effort into his airport attire, a habit that I was only too happy to join in on as it gives me the excuse to get all dressed up.

However, Yoongi’s airport outfit of choice for today has been giving me some…issues. He’s dressed in all black which is far from unusual for my husband. It’s the way he’s chosen to present his monochromatic ensemble that is at the root of my problem. The turtleneck layered under a leather jacket and tucked into a pair of ripped jeans makes a dark heat pool in my abdomen. Even the way he’s walking is sending shivers down my spine as I stealthily eye his borderline arrogant gait in the reflective glass that lines the hallway.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Min.” The attendant says with an oversized smile on her face. “Your flight will be boarding within the next two hours. The private waiting room you booked will be directly off to your right.”

She hands Yoongi and I each a matte black key card with the name of the airport and the number three embossed across the front. It’s heavy and surprisingly smooth to the touch which means the small square in my hand probably costs more than the Gucci bag Yoongi is carrying. The attendant gives us a short spiel on the amenities included in the private waiting room before sending us on our way.

“A private waiting room? Really, babe?” I question playfully as we make our way towards the row of doors in search of number three. Yoongi snorts in response.

“My name is on two number one albums on the billboard chart and a Grammy nomination.” He says, waving the key card in front of the sensor next to the door when we reach or destination. “I deserve this luxury.”

“That you do, babe.” I throatily whisper into his ear when the door smoothly slides open to allow us to enter. He cocks an eyebrow at me and I know he’s on to me.

A decent sized lounge chair is pulling double duty as a bed against one wall with a small desk and chair off to the left. A mini fridge stocked with drinks sits in the corner at the end of the desk, a basket of snacks sitting on top of it. I fiddle with the touch screen next to the door until the space is bathed in low light. I notice that there is a Bluetooth icon on the main screen so I start the pairing process, selecting a specific song from my library once it’s successful and putting it on repeat. Yoongi inhales sharply behind me as the first few strains of House of Cards come through the speakers.

“Turn this shit off right now.” He grumbles as I turn to face him. His fists are balled up at his sides as he shifts where he sits on the edge of bed.

Ironically enough, House of Cards was playing the first time we ever had sex. Somehow it became our mood over the years so now it’s like our code word to say “I want to have sex right now. Let’s bone.” It’s gotten to the point that now whenever Yoongi hears it, he gets a raging erection whether I was the one who turned it on or not. He’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs. A cursory glance at the crotch of his insufferably tight jeans gives his condition away. I lick my lips as I quietly observe the growing bulge between his legs.

“God damn you, woman.” He curses as he practically lunges at me. A victorious giggle passes my lips as he attaches his lips to my neck with a ferocity that has flames licking at my nerve endings. His large hands knead my ass cheeks through the thin fabric of my leggings. He’s being so rough that for a second I’m worried he might actually rip them. Yoongi has been hitting the gym lately and sometimes forgets that he’s a bit stronger than he used to be.

He surprises me when he suddenly drops to his knees in front of me. His hands fumble around with the zippers of my knee-high boots while he keeps his mouth busy by running his tongue over my clothed center. He helps me out of my boots and makes quick work of my leggings, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder.

The oversized sweater I’m wearing hides the fact that I’ve forgone panties today. For a second I’m sure he’s going to collapse when he realizes that fact when he slides his hands beneath the maroon fabric that hangs just past my ass. His face is flushes and he looks like he might be on the verge of a heat stroke.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He shoots to his feet so fast his head nearly connects with my chin. His hands shake as he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. He sighs contently when he finally frees himself from his pants. I start to sink to my knees when he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

My jaw drops in shock when Yoongi grabs me by the back of my thighs to lift me up against the wall. For the entirety of our relationship before this moment, Yoongi has never picked me up before. I’ve always been too heavy for him to lift.

“This,” he grunts in my ear as he covers his rigid length in my wetness. “this is why I started going to the gym.” Your head falls back against the wall with a low thud as he bumps against my engorged clit repeatedly.

Frustrated with his god awful teasing, I shift my hips just enough for the first inch or so to slide inside me on his next pass. Yoongi freezes for a second before he’s ramming as much of himself as he can inside me. The feeling of finally being filled is second to none. I’m given hardly any time to adjust to him before he’s pulling his hips back only to roughly surge forward again.

My nails search for purchase on the leather jacket that he has yet to take off. A lightning bolt of pride shoots through me as I realize my husband wanted me so bad that he couldn’t even wait long enough to take his jacket off to get to me. A particularly hard thrust has me biting down on my own fingers to keep from screaming. I may have turned the music on louder than necessary but even that isn’t going to drown me out.

“You fucking wanted this, baby girl. Now take it.” Yoongi grunts into the crook of my neck as he sucks and bites at the skin there.

My orgasm is approaching fast. Almost too fast if you ask me. My bra and sweater that were somehow left on now feel like they’re suffocating me. Between the fire that burns in my lungs and the fire that burns where Yoongi and I are connected, I feel like I’m about to explode. I claw uselessly at the bulky fabric covering my torso in attempt to get some air.

Yoongi shoves my sweater up over my breasts. He bends his head down to drag his tongue along the tops of my breasts before freeing them from my bra. His lips are wrapped around one of my erect nipples faster than I can draw in a shaky breath to prepare myself. A high-pitched whine claws its way out of my throat when he lightly bites down on my nipple. He laves the sting with tongue, tilting his head up to kiss along my upturned jaw. His strokes have slowed down to an almost lazy cadence. He switches over to the breast he’d been neglecting as his hips pick up speed again.

“Shit, Yoongi I-” As if he senses what I’m about to say, he reaches between us to press the rough pads of his fingers against my clit. That slight touch turns out to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. My back arches obscenely as every muscle in my body tries to pull me in a different direction. A truly creative string of curses flies out of Yoongi’s mouth as my inner muscles seize around him. He plows into me a dozen more times before a pained groan falls from his pretty lips as he empties himself into me.

He leans his sweaty forehead against mine, staring into my eyes as we both work to regain our breath. I pepper gentle kisses all over his flushed face. Yoongi hums deep in his throat and leans into my affections. Our lips connect for the first time since we locked ourselves in this glorified closet. I wince slightly as his softening length slips from me. A grimace covers my face as the evidence of our activities leaks from abused core. I forgot just how gross this feels.

Yoongi thankfully finds some wipes in a cabinet on the other side of the bed that we hadn’t even noticed. We do what we can with the crotch of his pants and pray that his crotch won’t be stained from the unholy mix of fluids that they came in contact with.

*   *   *

We’re basking in the afterglow of our quickie when a crackling noise scares the shit out of us. Apparently, these private cabins have intercom systems for airport personnel to communicate with people in the waiting rooms.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Min!” The cheery female voice says through the speaker. “My name is Jae, the first-class liaison. Your flight will begin boarding in approximately 15 minutes. Please leave drop your key cards in the designated slot next to the control panel and I will escort you to the first class waiting area.” We move about the room collecting our carry-ons. I take care of the keycards while Yoongi dumps the contents of the snack basket into his bag for “safekeeping”.

I tap the icon labeled “open door” on the touchscreen but nothing happens. Thinking that maybe it requires a heavier hand, I press my finger harder against the screen. Still no results. I frantically stab my finger against the lit screen as if that will unfreeze the system.

“Fuck! Yoongi, it won’t open.”

“What do you mean it won’t open?” Yoongi pokes at the screen repeatedly just as I did with the same outcome. “I wanna go to Bora Bora dammit.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Min? Is there an issue.” We jump at the sound of the intercom once more. In our panic, we forgot the woman on the other side of the door waiting on us.

She walks us through some troubleshooting steps over the intercom and even tries to open the door using the emergency exit handle but, apparently, it’s stuck too. After finally concluding that there’s nothing that she personally can do to get us out, we can hear her calling for a technician through the door. From the exasperated noise she makes, whoever she called did not give her good news about her situation.

“I deeply apologize but the technician assigned to this airport is off duty for the night. We can call in a technician from another airport but it’ll be at least a two hour wait.” She informs us as we have absolute meltdowns inside our waiting area. There’s no way we’re going to make our flight now. Jae leaves us for a moment to go input the work order and call in technician.

In the corner of my eye, I see Yoongi slowly turn his head to glare at me. His stare is threatening to burn a hole in the side of my face.

“I hate you so much.” He says. “All this because you wanted some dick.”

“Don’t put this all on me. No one told you to fuck me against the wall like a Neanderthal, you bitch.” I return his glare as we stand toe to toe, waiting for the other to back down.

The tension between us snaps like a rubberband as we dissolve into laughter. We quite literally fucked up the control panel for our waiting room and got ourselves locked in. You can’t make this shit up.

“Well…we may as well get comfortable.” Yoongi says as he digs around in his bag for a snack as he situates himself on the bed. I make myself comfortable between his outstretched legs, leaning back against his chest as I tear open the bag of chips he offers me.

Though I didn’t wish for it to happen this way, being able to spend this time with Yoongi is exactly what I needed. He’s been so busy working this year that moments like these have been few, far, and in between since we came back from our honeymoon in June. It’s nice to just sit here, eat chips with my husband, and listen to him talk.

We’re so deep in our own little world that we almost don’t notice that two hours have passed. Our easily frightened asses cling to each other when Jae’s voice suddenly blares out of the intercom again informing us that the technician has arrived to get us out. It takes all of fifteen minutes for the technician to reset the system and free us from the cabin.

Jae immediately launches into a damage control spiel. According to Ms. First Class Liaison, the airport is taking full responsibility for us missing our flight by refunding the cost of our plane tickets and the private waiting room to Yoongi’s card. It has also been arranged for us to use the airport owner’s own personal jet to get to Bora Bora. The two of us stand there in shock because we know that the airport bears no liability for us getting stuck but we sure as hell aren’t telling them that.

“Did that really just happen?” I ask Yoongi as we wait in the first class boarding area for the jet to be brought around.

“It did now be quiet before someone hears us and takes the money back.” He whispers as he glances around to make sure no one is near us.

“You should buy me something pretty with the money since it was my butt sweat that secured the bag.” I joke under my breath.

“I’ll be sure to do that, babe and I’ll start with some self-control and a rational thought process.” His gummy smile makes an appearance as he uses his bag to block my fists.

“Asshole. Rational thought would’ve been not fucking me against the wall.” He waves me off before digging in his bag for another snack.

“Whatever. You loved it.” I ignore him, scrolling through Facebook as we continue to wait. According to the two women manning, the desk our plane is next in line to pull up to the hanger for us to board so it shouldn’t be too much longer.

“Does this make us prostitutes?” Yoongi asks totally out of the blue. I open and close my mouth several times as I try to figure out how to respond to his question.

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“We basically got paid to have sex. Doesn’t that make us prostitutes?” His face is scrunched up in thought as he continues to eat his snack. His point makes logical sense but I’m not letting him know that. This is the craziest question he’s ever asked me and he once asked me how my hair grew so fast overnight because I showed up at the dorms in a wig longer than the one I’d worn the day before.

“I-…please never speak to me again.” He chuckles lowly before tossing a chip at my head and laughing when it gets stuck in my curls.

*   *   *

Bora Bora is just as beautiful as I imagined it would be. The weather is amazing, though a little rainy. Getting here may have been more hectic than we’d planned for it to be but sitting on the beach with Yoongi as we watch the sun set beyond the horizon is worth all the hassle. I turn to admire his elegant side profile as he tips his back, eyes closed as he breathes in the salty air. His hair is wet from the time spent frolicking around in the waves and slicked back from his forehead. I can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss his temple.

“Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

[ragewerthers]

Suga-rush!

Summary: 

Everyone on the Karasuno volleyball team is afraid of angering their captain except for Suga.

What is his secret? How can he be the only one who can talk back to Daddy Crow and also stop him from going on a rampage? The team is about to find out!

A/n: The world needs more DaiSuga fluff darn it!  They are just too precious and need to enjoy some laughs and playfulness! You can also read this on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921315

Word count: 2060 --------------------------------------------------

Daichi was by no stretch of the imagination a mean guy.

On the contrary.

He was friendly, inspiring, good-natured, but should you do something to upset the quiet balance of the team, whether playfully, roughly or ridiculously, you were more than likely going to face his wrath.

Chaos in the halls during training camp?  Over exuberance on the court from a point?  All of them were generally met with hushed whispers of,‘Quiet!  You’ll make the captain angry!’

There was something about upsetting or angering ‘Daddy Crow’ that struck fear into the hearts of them all… except for one.

Sugawara Koushi.

The silver haired setter never seemed to worry or be phased by the idea of upsetting the captain.

Quite the opposite.

Suga was the only one who seemed to be able to call out the captain for acting brash, stop him from going on a rampage and tell him off in other ways without the fear of repercussions or being told off in return.

There were many who wondered what the secret to his bravery was.

Tanaka and Noya had tried, on more than one occasion, to learn his secrets, but Suga always waved them off with a little shrug and smile.

Asahi’s theory had always been that it was because they were in a relationship, but it felt like there had to be more than that.

Daichi could be in the throes of telling off a riled up teammate and one look from Suga would have him stopping in his tracks.

What could it be?!

The team was about to find out.

They had all been practicing a few receiving drills with a partner, passing the ball back and forth between them when the fateful moment happened.

Hinata had been paired with Kageyama and the pair had been bickering since they’d walked in together.  However, as the practice had gone on their drills had turned more into a competition and with that came mistakes.  Before long a stray ball had been hit and the next thing they knew the resounding smack of it hitting the back of someone’s head could be heard reverberating around the gym.

With shaking limbs the two first years turned to see who had been the unlucky recipient only to see Daichi standing with his back to them, the ball resting behind him and his shoulders shaking with barely contained rage.

“S-Senpai!” Hinata squeaked, instantly running behind Kageyama who turned and shouted at the other for using him as a shield.

The renewed bickering seemed to be what finally did it as Daichi turned around to start shouting at the younger members.

“QUIET!  THAT’S ENOUGH!” he warned, everyone instantly snapping to attention at the reprimand.  “You need to STOP!  This bickering is not beneficial to the team and will lead us nowhere!”

Suga who had been paired with the captain took a step forward and tried to grab the others attention.

“It’s okay, Dai.  You know they get excitable, but I’m sure they’re so-,”

“Stay out of this, Suga!” Daichi snapped and an eerie calm settled over the group.

For the first time that any of them could remember they watched as their strong, unphasable leader blanched and looked like he wished he could literally fly away from here.

“Suga.  Suga, I… please don’t,” he said shakily as he took a step back.

The look on the setters face was completely unreadable.  Gone was the sweet tempered looking Suga they all knew and respected, replaced with a narrow-eyed and dangerous looking hunter who only had eyes for the man in front of him.

“Suga?  Koushi?  Kou?” Daichi tried, taking another step back.  However, as soon as he did, Suga leapt forward, and then… they were off.

Daichi had quickly turned tail with the fear of god in his eyes and started running toward the other end of the gym, Suga hot on his heels, as he continued to try and plead for his life.

“P-Please!?  Please I’m s-sorry!  N-Not here, Kou!  NO!” he cried as he felt the man swiping at the back of his t-shirt, almost catching him as he tried to take a fast corner and all but slid into a wall.

By this point the other players had gathered into a more condensed group in the center of the court, watching this madness take place.

“Wh-what is Suga-Senpai going to do?” Hinata asked as he watched on in awe, Asahi shaking beside him as he caught the look in his classmates eyes and wondered if Suga had somehow gotten possessed.

“I-I don’t know, but I’ve never seen him look like that before,” the ace said as he watched the pair continue their chase around the gymnasium.

It wasn’t to last much longer.

Upon making a mad dash for the exit, Daichi had turned his head to see how far behind Suga was and ended up tripping over one of the stray volleyballs from practice sending him crashing to the floor with Suga landing on him not a moment later.

“Suga!  S-Suga please!  Please I-I apologized I… I di-hihihidn’t m-HEHEAN IT!” the captain honest to god giggled as Suga straddled his waist, his hands trying ineffectually to grab at the vice captains wrists.

It was all for nought.  With lightning quick reflexes, Suga’s hands went straight toward Daichi’s lower ribs, fingers finding the extra sensitive spots right underneath the bones that had the poor captains back arching off the floor as wild laughter escaped him.

The captain… was horrendously ticklish.

And the team could only look on in absolute shock and awe.

“You know better than to let your anger get the better of you, Dai!” Suga warned as his wriggling fingers continued to massage against the hyperticklish spot, making the captain try to curl up before arching and repeating all over again as if his body didn’t know what to do.

“I-I kn-nahahahaow!  I know!  I’m s-sahahhaorry!” he cried as he tried to push at the hands driving him crazy.  Sadly this left him wide open to those devilish fingers which instantly skittered up his ribs, making the man yelp and try to turn over and curl up.

“You yelled at me, Daichi.  You let your temper get the better of you and we know the only way to remedy that, right?” Suga asked, the scary, neutral look that had been on his face now replaced with the familiar and sweet smile he usually wore.  He allowed Daich a chance to try and turn on his side, adjusting himself so that he could now claw one hand into the poor guys stomach as the other skittered up and down his spine.

Daichi positively squealed as he was attacked on two fronts!  The clawing to his stomach had him curling forward, legs kicking out behind his boyfriend before ridiculous giggles would erupt from him as those spidering fingers would race up his spine and make him flop around like some sort of electrocuted eel.

“S-SuGAHahahaAHA!” he wailed as the setters fingers continued their quick attack, one hand staying to torment his stomach as the other left his back to reach behind him and squeeze behind one of his knees.

The poor captain positively died.  His knees had always been a weak spot of his along with his stomach and now with both under attack the only thing he could think of was the horribly ticklish sensations running through his body, his legs trying desperately to kick away from those devilish fingers that kneaded into the muscles around his knee while his hands tried to slap at the fingers that had snuck under his shirt and were scribbling against his vulnerable stomach.

“That’s right, Daichi!  You just need a little Suga-rush!” the setter giggled as Daichi snorted at his ridiculous boyfriends ‘attack’ name.

“Suga-...?” Hinata asked curiously.

“.. -rush?” Kageyama finished for him.

Suga chuckled at the uncertainty in his teammates voices and turned to them, continuing to turn his poor boyfriend into a giggling, wheezing puddle on the floor.

“It’s my secret weapon against a grumpy Daichi!” he said cheerfully, as he moved his hand away from Daichi’s knee only to bring it forward so he could squeeze against his boyfriends hip, causing the poor man to flip over onto his stomach with a yelp as he tried to crawl away.

Suga quickly righted himself from almost falling over and settled on his boyfriend’s back, tutting lightly as his let both hands quickly shoot up to tickle against his exposed underarms as Daichi collapsed once more, hiding his face against the floor while muffled, desperate laughter escaped him.

“You know how you always feel giddy and happy after having too much sugar?  And you get a sugar rush?  This is my own version of that!  The best way to fight a grumpy Daichi is to make him giddy and happy with a ‘Suga’-rush!’” the vice captain said as the other team members found themselves unable to keep from laughing at the spectacle in front of them.  There was something kind of sweet about seeing their captain looking so unlike himself.  Bright laughter escaping him uninhibited and a ridiculous smile on his face.

“Are you feeling better then, Dai?” Suga asked sweetly as he kept up the light tickling under his arms, making Daichi rock back and forth slightly on his stomach as his laughter calmed into little giggles.

“Y-Yehehehes!  Pl-PLEheheEHEase!” he squeaked before finally feeling those awful fingers stop their attack and going positively limp on the floor.

Suga couldn’t help a little giggle and covered his mouth to stifle the sound, his free hand reaching up to soothe his poor boyfriends hair.

“Good!  Now… let’s get back to practice, okay?  No more grumps from you!  Right?  Right, Daichi?  No more grumps?” he teased, giving little pokes along the captains back making the other instantly start squirming and giggling again, a noise the rest of the team still couldn’t believe the captain could make in the first place.

“Okay!  Okahahay, K-Kouhoho!” he laughed before feeling the weight lifted off of him and instantly flopping over onto his back with a bright smile on his face.

“Woah!  I never would have thought the captain could be ticklish!” Hinata said with bright eyes as Suga made his way back to the group, leaving his boyfriend to catch his breath.

“He’s very ticklish and he’s always hidden it well,” Suga said simply, turning to see Asahi approaching the puddle that was his boyfriend on the floor and offering him a hand up.

The ace was no stranger to the after effects of a tickle attack.  When your boyfriend was an energetic libero, you lived in constant fear as well.

Daichi made his way back over with Asahi beside him, his cheeks still a vibrant red from laughter and a bit of embarrassment, though a smile still lingered on his face.

“Okay.  Back to drills,” he said, voice a little more hoarse from his laughter though he did seem to be in a far better mood now.  The rest of the team seemed to have relaxed a bit as well from what they’d just witnessed, but soon broke back off into their partnered groups again.

Suga smiled softly at his boyfriend as he came closer and reached forward to give his hand a squeeze.

“Sorry for giving your secret away to the team, Daichi,” he said gently, though his partner quickly waved it off.

“It’s fine, Kou.  I stepped out of line and you were only trying to help.  I deserved it.  Besides… I don’t think anyone other than you is brave enough to try it,” he chuckled, giving the setters fingers a soft squeeze before removing his hand and ducking down to pick up a discarded volleyball.  “Now!  Let’s get back to practice!”

After the chaos of the last few minutes the rest of practice seemed to go by easily enough, and if in the coming weeks Daichi found his sides and back the targets of little pokes and light nibbling pinches then so be it.  If anything, everyone seemed to be in a little better mood with the added laughter and while they still feared their captains wrath, they knew that they had an ally who was ready to help them should things get out of hand.

Sometimes you needed a bit of a Suga-rush.

[longhornanderson]

he left the bloodstains on the carpet ₪ seblaine

TAGGING: Sebastian Smythe & Blaine Anderson

WHEN: 5 MAR 2020, 1900

WHERE: One of the many UT Gyms

WHAT: One smooth criminal stops to lay down some lines on a sexy fellow student. Both of them fill with tension in a hot moment, however that tension shifts when they realize who exactly they’re flirting with. 

BLAINE ANDERSON

Before every workout, Blaine always washed out the tightly held down curls and put away his bow ties. Then it was a tank top, zip up jacket, and shorts. Just like California, Texas always had that crisp air that made joggers unneeded. There was a bit of cold weather every now and then, but he liked to let his skin breathe for once. 

Even though the university had several gyms, Blaine always choose the same one. He used his student id to check in and abandon his things in a locker. Walking into the gym, he was typing up his hands. He took his usual position next to the punching bags. He noted that somebody was there and did a small head nod. He knew them from days before. He started to move his arms in a bit of a warm up before peddling his feet. Hoping up and down, he started to get his body warmed up while his friend was just finishing up his own work out.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

the  thing  about  sebastian  is  that  he's  a  man  of  routines.  or  rather,  the  sort  of  man  who  plans  a  routine,  follows  it  for  a  few  days,  and  then  changes  it  completely  to  better  suit  whatever  he's  got  going  on  that  day.   but  he  makes  the  effort,  which  some  days  feels  like  half  the  battle.    some  of  it  is  petulance,  a  way  of  thumbing  his  nose  at  the  strict  PT  regimens  he  used  to  have  to  follow  after  the  accident;   it  is,  if  he's  honest,  the  only  reason  he  still  bothers  with  the  gym.  (  though  picking  up  hot  guys  is  surely  an  added  bonus.  ) 

he's  fresh  off  the  treadmill,  40  minutes  of  light  cardio  down  and  about  an  hour  of  weights  training  to  go,  when  he  let's  his  ennui  get  the  best  of  him.   his  eyes  dart  around  the  room  as  he  wipes  down  his  equipment,  eyes  locking  onto  fists  connecting  with  a  punching  bag  a  few  stations  over.   he  doesn't  recognize  the  guy  —  not  unusual,  given  he  usually  frequents  the  gym  closer  to  his  dorm  room,   but  decides  there's  no  better  time  than  to  change  that.    so  he  tosses  the  cloth  over  his  shoulder,  approaches  like  a  predator  stalking  his  prey  as  he  comes  up  from  behind.    (  in  reality,  he  simply  dips  his  head  down  to  drink  from  the  water  fountain  ...  affording  him  the  opportunity  to  get  a  good  look  at  that  ass.  )      but  he's  not  a  creep,  so  he  straightens  up  and  makes  his  presence  known.   "  nice  form. "

BLAINE ANDERSON

Eventually, Blaine high fived his friend and waved him off. Afterward, he put up his hood and continued his warm up. Striking lightly, getting use to the sensation. There was nothing he was particularly angry about today, but he had enough energy for short loud burst. With his body warm, he started one of his usual routine. 

Blaine fell in love with Gym culture. Every once and a while, you'd run into that one jackass. Overall, everybody was cool. Blaine found himself talking to some of the regulars after his workouts. Especially if they come talk to him during. So when he felt eyes on him, Blaine didn't stop. He kept hitting, letting the sweet sound of the sand bag vibrate in his ears. 

"Thanks." Blaine growled through clinched teeth. He didn't mean it, he was in the moment. He breathed out his next sentence. "Better be, being doing this for years." He got in three more jabs. Left, right, left. Front curls flopped out the front of his hoodie. The last hit was louder than the rest. He breathed out the tightness in his muscles. He leaned onto the punching bag as he reached down to get his water bottle, keeping his face unintentionally hidden from Sebastian. His dark eyes glanced around to the other punching bags. "I'll be off in about five minutes if you want a round." Blaine offered as he took a drink.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

the  guy's  intense,  focused  on  what  he's  doing,  and  sebastian  respects  that.   he  watches  as  fists  hit  the  bag,  interest  in  his  eyes  as  he  comments.   "  it  shows.   impressive.   how  ...  rocky  balboa,  of  you. "   he  turns  away  for  a  moment,  goes  through  the  motions  of  filling  his  water  bottle  even  though  he's  already  decided  to  cut  his  work  out  off  short.

the  smirk  settles  easily  when  the  guy  responds,  his  voice  smooth  like  silk  as  he  responds.   "  depends.   if  you're  asking  if i  want  a  round  with  the  bag  ...  i  think  i'll  pass. "   it's  as  subtle  as  a  giggle  at  a  funeral  but  that's  sort  of  his  M.O.   he  sees  what  he  wants  and  he  goes  for  it.    "  --  but  i  was  just  about  to  hit  the  showers,  maybe  go  for  a  drink. "    brows  lift,   eyes  still  dancing  over  the  muscles  of  the  mystery  man's  back.    selfishly,  he'd  be  just  as  happy  skipping  the  drinks  and  heading  straight  to  dessert  ...   but  he's  patient.   or  can   be.    (  you  have  to  work  for  the  things  you  want  in  life.  )    "  what  do  you  say,  killer  ? "

BLAINE ANDERSON

Blaine almost blushed at the compliment. He had to admit, it was nice to get this sort attention. This wasn't the first time that Blaine picked up numbers at the gym. A smile formed on his lips around the water bottle. He finished his sip. 

Drinks though? This was new. It took all his might not to whip around to get a look at the man who was flirting with him. Oh that voice, it was so smooth, silky, so sexy. But there was something so familiar about that voice. Especially the use of that word, Killer. "Well, if you need a partner--" He finally turned around and his hoodie fell off his head. Loose curls bounced out and adjusted to the frame of Blaine face. The words got caught in his throat as he finally saw Sebastian's face. "Sebastien." Blaine articulated every syllable of his name carefully. "Sebastian." He repeated with wide eyes. 

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

he'll  kick  himself  later  for  not  waiting  to  see  a  face  before  laying  on  the  charm.   he's  a  sucker  for  tight  muscles  and  loose  curls  and  apparently  they've  finally  gotten  him  into  trouble.   he'd  always  figured  it  would  happen  one  day,  but  he'd  never  expected  to  accidentally  flirt  with  his  archenemy  (  okay,  that's  a  stretch.   blaine  barely  cracks  the  top  five  '  worst  people  he's  ever  met '  list  on  a  good  day  )   like  something  out  of  a  romantic  comedy.    a  meet  cute.   ugh,  he  hates  everything  about  this.

"  you. "   it's  almost  an accusation,  like  somehow  this  is  blaine's  fault.   "  you're  ...  not  who  i  expected. "    no  way,  no  how,  in  a  million  years  would  he  have  imagined  that  this  was  what  lingered  beneath  the  bowties  and  excessive  amounts  of  hairgel.   the  fact  that  blaine  anderson  is  hot  is  borderline  offensive;  it  should  be  a  crime.   he  refrains  from  saying  as  much  though,   he  needs  to  maintain  a  modicum  of  self-respect.   (  he  can  bounce  back  from  this.   he's  a  smythe,  it's  what  he  does  best;   spin.  )    "  so  this  is  what  happens  when  you  strip  away  the  hairgel  and  the  sweater  vests. "   he  observes,  clicking  his  tongue  against  his  teeth.    "   huh. "    despite  his  annoyance,  his  eyes  are  still  reluctantly  glued  to  the  sweat  gathering  at  the  hollow  of  his  throat.   (  he  wonders,  with  his  traitorous  mind,  how  satisfying  it  would  be  to  push  him  up  against  the  wall  and  taste  the  salt  against  his  skin.     so  much  for  self  respect.  )

BLAINE ANDERSON

Two seconds ago, Sebastian's voice made him trip. The way those golden words had captured him and made him eager. Blaine could feel the high he got whenever he was talking to Sam or another cutie. As he took in those beautiful green eyes, Blaine cursed himself for falling for that irresistible charm. Damn it. How did it get to this point. If Sebastian knew, Blaine knew he wouldn't live this down. 

His lips wavered slightly at Sebastian's harsh tone. Now that Blaine was looking at Sebastian clearly, Blaine suddenly became flushed with rage. That way he spoke reminded him of the daunting arguments in class Sebastian's infuriating way of speaking. Surprisingly, that's not what caught him off guard. Sebastian was... hot. Hidden beneath preppy clothes and a smart mouth, there were well defined muscles and lean long legs. Blaine's jaw clinched. His brown eyes danced over Sebastian's body. If it was anybody else, he wouldn't even be wasting his time on drinks. 

"Right back at cha." He stretched out neck, gave slight glare and matched Sebastian's tone. "And it looks like you're a big fan, considering five seconds ago you were just asking me out to drinks." The words poured from his mouth as if somebody else were taking over him. The water bottle in Blaine's hand crumpled under the pressure. "Or did you come over here just to tell me that? Because that's a little bit weird to stalking a gym Bas." Blaine hissed Sebastian's name, as if Sebastian were the dark lord.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

the  fact  that  blaine's  right  might  be  what  makes  this  all  the  more  infuriating.   he  has  him  backed  into  a  corner,  unable  to  refute  the  claims  that  —  yes,  he'd  clearly  liked  what  he  saw.   denying  that  now  would  simply  be  an  insult  to  both  of  their  intelligence.   (  blaine  might  get  under  his  skin,  but  he's  no  idiot.   he  can  acknowledge  that.  )     he  huffs,  jaw  clenching  as  he  sucks  in  a  breath.    the  anger  clenches  white  hot,  knuckles  in  a  similar  state  where  they're  gripping  his  water  bottle  in  a  deadly  fashion.    were  it  not  stainless  steel,  he's  sure  it  would  warp  under  his  fingertips.    "  congratulations.   you're  attractive. "   a  pause,  deliberate.   "  when  you're  not  talking.    quick,  someone  get  him  a  medal. "    or  a  muzzle,   he  thinks  dryly.

he  sees  red  at  the  nickname,   something  he  feels  is  too  personal  for  blaine  to  spitting  at  him;   like  its  a  weapon  in  his  arsenal,  twisted  to  inflict  pain.    (  well  two  can  play  at  that  game.  )     "  trust  me,  stalking   you  is  not  on  my  to  do  list. "    he  takes  a  step  closer,   crowding  in  on  blaine's  personal  space  as  his  eyes  narrow.    there's  a  fire  burning  in  his  chest,  whether  it  be  the  rage  or  something  more,   and  rather  than  try  to  extinguish  it   —   he  pours  the  gasoline  and  watches  it  ignite.    "  it's   sebastian. "    words  are  light,   but  there's  an  edge   to  it.    "   unless  we're  in  bed  and  you're  moaning  it. "     right  inflection,  wrong  words;   because  now  that's  where  his  head's  at,    and  he  knows  almost  instantly  that  he's  toeing  a  line  he  should  be  wary  about  crossing.

BLAINE ANDERSON

Blaine felt his body go ridged when he realized he called Sebastian a nickname. What came over him in that moment? The air that came out of his mouth wavered. How did Sebastien have this power over him? To make him stumble. Neck cranked up and a scold on his face, he took in Sebastian’s words. Sebastien though he was attractive? Oh how this made Blaine want to cave to Sebastian. Steal him away into a broom closet to enjoy seven minutes in heaven. A more adult version of that though. Then Sebastian had to ruin it. Send Blaine back to the original reason why Sebastian made him angry. When Sebastien stepped over him, Blaine cranked his neck. He felt every cell in his body. From the tips of his toes, to the fibers in his chest hairs, and to the roots of his hair. Suddenly, Blaine felt his nakedness in front of Sebastian. Instead of cowering away, Blaine leaned his head back more to match those intense eyes. He put on a scold of his own. He let out a brave scoff, knowing the heat of his breathe would reach Sebastian. “Even though you’re hot as hell, never in your wildest dream.” Those words lingered on his lips. At the end, Blaine could feel his heart thumping wildly in his neck. If it weren’t for the height difference, Sebastian could probably felt Blaine heat rising from his skin. “I’ll try to remember that next time.” Blaines brown eyes lingered just a second longer before he ripped his gaze away. He stepped aside and aimed for the door with his chest held high.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

he's  almost  grateful  that  blaine  retreats,  leaves  him  feeling  like  he's  won  even  if  it  wasn't  a  competition,  or  a  fight.   has  he  won  though  when  he's  still  thinking  about  him  even  as  he  retreats?   (  he  hates  that,  a  little.   hates  how  he  fixates  on  things,  how  he  can  never  just  let  it  go.  )     the  fact  that  blaine  clearly  finds  him  attractive,  has  said  as much  and  made  it  abundantly  clear,  only  fuels  the  fire.   "  until  next  time. "    he  calls  out  after  him,  the  beginnings  of  a  smirk  warming  his  features.    with  blaine's  back  to  him,  it's  likely  he  won't  see  the  flush  to  his  cheeks.    it's  good;    for  the  best.     on  the  list of  mistakes  he'd  made  this  week,  he  has  no intentions  of  adding  hate  fucking  blaine  anderson  onto  it.   no,  no  thank  you.    "  i'll  see  you  around.    in  your  dreams,  i'd  bet. "   he  turns  and  makes  a  beeline  for  the  treadmills;     weight  training  will  have  to  wait,  he  needs  to  run  —  burn  off  whatever's  pounding  in  his  veins.    (  if  he  won,  why  does  it  still  feel  like  he's  fighting?  )

BLAINE ANDERSON

Stiff back, head held high, quick legs. It took all of Blaine's control to keep his body from collapsing at the exhaustion of that interaction. He kept this up all the way to his locker room and even beyond the doors of the gym. It wasn't until he got to his car did Blaine finally let a breathe out. *What the hell*? He thought to himself. With the thought he breathed out. Suddenly light headed, as if for the last ten minutes he was all on one breathe. One thing was evident, Sebastian had gotten to him. However, not in the way he wanted.

[ill-skillsgard]

Baby - Zeitgeist/Axel Cluney

Title: Baby

Description: He told them that there would be no “next time”.

Warning: Brief mentions of sex and the aftermath of spousal abuse/violence

A/N: This was the very first short piece I ever wrote when we had caught wind of Bill’s casting as Zeitgeist. "All I can do is protect you"

whats wrong?

please just come here

ok.

She set her phone down on the back of the toilet after sending for him. It was dark except for the glow of half a dozen tealight candles. She didn't want him to see her face. She didn't want to see it either and purposely avoided the mirror as she crossed the bathroom with an exhausted limp. The bath was already drawn and she had but to submerge herself into it but even that proved to be a daunting task. Her muscles ached worse than if she had spent three hours at the gym. All the clenching and adrenaline left her arms and legs as sore reminders. To even lift herself into the clawfoot tub was a struggle and she could not do so with grimacing, letting out a whimper as she lifted her leg and lowered into the hot water. It sent a shiver through her body that traveled up her aching back and settled into the base of her skull. Once she stepped in she slowly bent at the knees and used her hands to balance her as she sat down. The water swayed and sloshed around her until she laid back and tried to relax. The cut on her lip was cracked with dried blood and throbbed when she thought about it. Same with everything else from her sore feet to the scabs on her knees and the red and purple splotches adorning her thighs and torso in intricate strawberry patterns. She took a moment to fully submerge herself in the water, head and all. Completely surrounded by water, she tried to revel in the warmth seeping through her skin to lull her muscles. Nothing could be heard but a soothing drone and she enjoyed the sensory deprivation as much as she could before having to come back up for air. Her eyes remained closed and she could have drifted off to sleep had she not heard the approach of a motorcycle followed shortly by the whining swing of the busted front door. He didn't take his boots off so she heard each step he took into the house. It was then she realized that she had turned out every light and he was probably wondering where to go. "I'm in here." She called out, voice tightened and shot from the day's previous screaming match. The footfalls approached the bathroom door and she looked up and saw him as he stood in the doorway. In the dim light, she could see he hadn't shaved in a while but still hadn't grown much of a mustache anyway. He was wearing one of his ratty tank tops, the ones he wore when he was working on his cars. Smears of grease adorned him much like his tattoos and smelled like the inside of a shop. She didn't care though. The smell was at least familiar to her. "Oh, Baby... What the fuck did he do to you now?" "Zee..." She tried to say his name but she felt tears erupt to choke her. He came in and knelt down beside the bathtub and took off his riding gloves so he could take her hand. His rings glittered in the orange light and she suddenly felt safe as he brought her hand up to kiss each of her knuckles and the back of her palm. His loving gaze coasted over her battered body and suddenly he felt the raging hot surge of his anger begin to make his insides gurgle with venom. Biting his lip, he willed himself to breathe deeply through his nose, to try to calm himself down before he lost control of his temper. "I'm gonna kill him." "Zee... No." "I told ya... I told him. Next time... There would be no next time." "Then what happens if you go to jail?" "At least he'll be dead in the ground." She exhaled deeply through her nose too, mimicking him. They remained in silence for a solid minute before his eyes began to wander down her naked body again after growing accustomed to the candlelight. He grimaced at the sight of all the angry purple, red and blue blemishes that spotted her from her arms to her chest and her thighs. He couldn't even look at her face. One eye had taken on the shade of plum and protruded like one too. When he tried to look at it he had to clear his throat to keep the bile from rising up his throat. "I told him you would find out. He ran off. I don't know when or if he's coming back." "Baby... I'm not going to keep doing this." "I know." She whispered. "He's going to come back eventually. Question is... Are you going to be here or not?" She turned her face away from him but he continued to hold her hand in a firm grip. He cleared his throat again but it was only to continue speaking. "I ain't no fucking superhero, you understand? I can't promise you a nice life or nothing. All I can promise is that..." When she turned her face back to him she saw how his eyes darted away. It was unlike him to get emotional. The only emotion he knew was placidity and then anger. She knew that he wasn't savior material but he was all she had at that moment and that made her scared. "All I can do is protect you. But if you're gonna keep running back to him, what's the fuckin' point?" "I won't. I'm done this time." His lips turned into a thin indication of his disbelief. "Well... He sure gave you a good one. Might have to take you to the hospital. Can you see out of that thing?" She suddenly began to sob and shook her head. "No." "Fuck... Baby." "I said I'm done and I am. I don't care if you kill him or if I have to run. I need to get out of here." "Listen to me... Listen," He said firmly. "If I take you out of here you have to promise me one thing." Gripping his hand with all of her strength, she nodded her head. "You have to realize... I am... What I am. Nothings gonna change that. You think he's a monster?" She rose up out of the water to bring her face closer to him but he backed off slightly. He didn't like the look of her bruised lip. He didn't like to see such beauty so pummeled and sore. It made his heart twinge. "You're not," she said. "I am. Worse. I've done worse things than he has and the people I love always end up suffering because of it." "Only difference is," her voice rasped. "he means to hurt people the people he loves. You don't." "Doesn't matter. Being with me... it's dangerous." "I know but... I need you, Zee." "I know, Baby." She laid back down in the water with her back up against the slope of the tub. He came back to the edge of the tub and rested his tattooed arms on its edge. They both stopped talking for a moment and she watched his eyes wander all over her naked body, lingering for a moment longer on her breasts. "Get cleaned up... I'm going to pack some of your shit and then... We'll go." "Wait," she stopped him before he poised himself to stand up. He didn't ask anything, just froze and waited for her to continue. "Don't go yet." There were few things in the world that made him feel sad and his Baby was on the top of that list. He shifted back to his position leaning over the edge of the bath. When she reached out her arm to weakly reach for the soap bottle he fell even softer. The way her bruised arm meagerly floated out of the water with pain made the tiny strings of his heart pull. "Lay back down," He urged. She did and he began to take his rings off before grabbing a washcloth and squirting soap on it. She tried to smile as she lifted her right leg so that he could cradle his hand in the ditch of her knee and run the cloth gently up and down from the top of her foot to the top of her thigh. He repeated the same slow process on the other leg, moving to her arms and shoulders and then to her back. When it came to her breasts he did his best not to take too long but did take pause to run his finger over one of her nipples. Biting her lip, she gazed up sleepily at him and became aware that the water was starting to cool. When he ran the cloth down her stomach he took another pause between her hips. She gave no sign that she didn't want him there so he continued down. "Mm, Zee." "I'm not fucking you like this so get that thought outta your head." "I know it's just... You feel so good." He smirked. If it were any other time when she wasn't reeling from a heinous beating he would have been balls deep inside of her, pounding away like a madman into every hole she had. The only thing that paralleled his volatile temper was his insatiable appetite for dirty, nasty sex. But he had to maintain his self-control. No matter how lost in lust for her he became, he made sure that he could maintain his composure, however hard she made it for him. "You probably have a concussion. I can tell your eyes are off." He told her. "No way I'm sticking my cock in you." "But... I want you, Zee." He rang out the cloth and tossed it over the edge of the tub. "When you're healed up and we're a thousand miles from this shit-hole...  Maybe then we can go at it but until then... Let's just hold off." "Okay," she agreed.

[diego-hargreeve2]

light in the dark

Part Twenty

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Netflix)

Ship: Diego Hargreeves x Original Character

Warnings: Language, abuse (emotional and physical), mental illness, violence and, in later chapters, smut.

Chapter Specific Author Note: I’m not an expert on stuttering and I’ve never had this specific speech impediment. I have done some reading and sought to portray this in a way which is accurate and sensitive. If you have thoughts, pointers or issues to flag up to me, feel free to drop me a message so I can improve.  

He knew she wasn’t at the shelter – but where she was left Diego at a loss. His first thought was the gym, and he’d headed home but there was no sign of her. The moment he was sure he was back in the car, driving along the streets where he’d found her before, the diner they went the first night they met, before returning to the shelter. Kyle just shook his head at the question, and Diego was back out the door immediately to return to his car and driving aimlessly.

His fingers flexed on the wheel, itching to hold a knife even though his worry wasn’t an enemy he could hope to defeat with a blade. It was more a tick, a tool to comfort himself, and Diego didn’t know a better way to deal with the level of emotion that raged inside him. The longer he drove, the more streets he crawled down at the lowest speed the car could manage, the engine growling in protest, the more panicked he grew.

It was a circuit he ended up making – the shelter, the gym, the street where they met, and repeat. Without family and friends, without a job, without ties…Diego had no other ideas and the dawn light was lifting the darkness of the night when he pulled up outside the gym and checked for what felt like the hundredth time. Still no Evie.

Sliding back into the driver’s seat he slammed his fist against the steering wheel, all that worry over her turning into anger as he punched the car, a frustrated primal scream escaping him. Diego was exhausted, and out of ideas.

Where would she go?

No back to Idaho. But that did remind him of the journey she’d made across the states. Catching lights on highways, and begging money for…train tickets.

He fired the engine back up with a roar as a new thought occurred to him.

Evie was sat outside the bus station, crossed legged. Her head hunched forward, a hood pulled up, the fabric and her hair masking her face more effectively than the disguise Diego adopted of a night, and yet he knew her at once. She had slid her hands into the opposite sleeves, wore her backpack despite the fact she had sat down, and there was a scuffed paper cup sat in front of her.

Diego yanked the handbrake, heedless of the needs of the car he was normally so protective over, and was out the door in a moment to crouch on the ground before her.

“Shit Evie, you had me scared. Are you okay?” he said, both hands reaching to cup her elbows but she shifted away, turning her head to avoid his gaze. This was hard enough for her right now - in her mind, even sure it was Patch he wanted, Diego was who she wanted. It was the worst heartache she had felt in her life - to be so in need of comfort and having the person you’d most seek that from in front of you and yet to not take that, to hold back, to try and save yourself further pain and maintain some dignity.

“Angel, c’mon. I’ve been out my head with worry, looking for you for hours. Talk to me”. The frustration was gone, all he had was relief that at least he found her and fear she wouldn’t let him explain, wouldn’t even listen.

For a long moment there was silence, nothing comfortable like the quiet that usually settled between them, but taut and crackling with emotion neither one of them could voice.

“Why didn’t you come and talk to me? Why’d you run off?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you used to date Patch?” Eve responded, turning her face and now he could see her cheeks, streaked with tears, her lashes which had dried into salty spikes, and her lower lip, bleeding and marked with teeth marks, the skin torn and worried at.

“Because it didn’t fucking matter anymore” he insisted, vehemence lending his voice more violence then he intended. “It was years ago”.

Eve shook her head, unable to meet his gaze, her mouth quivering. She had thought she was done with crying, but more tears threatened to fall as she was faced with the reality of him.

“No? Evie – it’s the past”.

“But you didn’t-”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I figured you’d prefer not to know”.

“Not to know that you’re in love with her…yeah…I’d have preferred not to know that” she admitted, with a bitter smile devoid of happiness.

“Wuh-wuh-wuh-” His old stutter returned, and his cheeks flushed beneath the stubble at the frustration. He hated the way his tongue betrayed him at the worst time. Grace always told him to slow down, to picture the word in his mind, but at times like this the concept of having to think before he spoke when emotions were running so high felt like the worst curse he could be saddled with. The more he tried to reach for the word the further away it seemed to be, the harder he tried the more impossible the task became.

It got her attention more effectively than any articulate word could have. Last time she heard him stumble like that it had been when he saw her scars.

Hurt as she was, the frustration on his face as he fought with his tongue had her heart aching and she lifted a hand to touch his cheek despite herself.

“Diego…” Her fingers dropped away from his skin, yanking back as though he could burn her skin as she realised, she shouldn’t do that. Fast as her automatic reaction was his own reflexes were sharp, and he caught her wrist. 

“I don’t love her now” he insisted, giving up on the previous sentence, the vowel easier to manage and force out.

“You didn’t tell me-”

“To save you getting upset. I didn’t wuh-wuh-wuh…to save you feeling... ...feeling jealous. I thought you’d wuh-wuh-wuh...that you’d wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh - SHIT for fucks sake”. The curse exploded out of him with anger aimed at himself and the noise that tripped him up. He rose to his feet in one smooth motion, hardly aware he was doing it, both hands lifting to his head for a moment before one yanked out a knife. It was to secure himself, trying to find the easy fluidity with which he could throw the blades and transfer that to his mouth. It didn’t escape his notice though the way she flinched and, spinning the dagger between his fingers, he dropped to sit beside her and sought again to speak. 

“I thought you’d stress over it and you’d be stressing over nothing, so I didn’t tell you”. Stress wasn’t in truth the word he meant or wanted to use but it worked at least - the hiss had never been his downfall. 

Evie understood his decision for the word choice, even if she didn’t understand the sentiment or the decision 

“If there was nothing to hide...you’d have told me”.

He could understand that way of thinking; Diego always found it suspicious himself when people were invasive during his ‘interrogations’ - but this had been nothing like that, it had been intended to protect Evie.

“I just...” she swallowed, struggling in a way that was different to Diego’s difficulty in this conversation as she tried to find the courage to speak the thoughts in her mind. 

“I don’t...if you love her, why...I don’t understand why you...I’m not...” she pulled her knees up to her chest, her forehead dropping down to hide her face entirely between her hair, the hood and her kneecaps.

The urge to interrupt and correct her thinking was strong and Diego forced himself to resist as he fidgeted with the knife, twirling it around to diffuse the tension in his body. Few things aggravated him more than people jumping in and offering the words he was trying to say when he struggled, so he tried to avoid doing the same to Eve, to give her the space to get out what she wanted to say without him interrupting despite the fact there were so many things he wanted to say. 

Hidden away it was easier for her to complete a sentence, but her cheeks burned with shame even as she forced the words out. 

“I’ve never...I’m not somebody who...Why did you sleep with me if you love her?” Her voice breaking and full of tears.

If she had been somebody who slept around regularly maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. But Eve found it hard to open up, to reveal herself, and to have done so to somebody she thought understood that - and to have believe he cared...there was a pain behind her sternum and her stomach ached, her cheeks red hot and her mind eager to remind her that this was her own fault. 

She should’ve known nobody like Diego would want somebody like her - nobody would ever want her. She was a mistake and a disgrace with her mother’s blood on her hands. 

“I don’t love Eudora anymore” he insisted, shifting closer to her, the hand not fiddling with his knife trying to take find a way to touch her she’d accept; he avoided her hands and her back given the state she was in, sliding his fingers beneath her elbow, his thumb curling to hold onto her. 

She shook her head slightly, unable to believe him and Diego tightened his grip slightly. 

The fact she wouldn’t listen, and had clearly intended to flee the city, was causing his heart to thud. Stabbing the knife into the bench beside him he shifted to crouch before her again, strong hands reaching out to grab her ankles and pull her legs down so he could see her face.

She couldn’t leave. The idea of not having Evie was...his stomach twisted, his palms slick with sweat and his throat tightening. 

“Don’t go”, the word strangled between his dry mouth and constricted airways. 

“I have to - I can’t - I’m sorry. I should’ve known-” Her own tears cut her off, choking her. She should’ve known better, should never have let herself believe in something better, to have hope.

“You think nobody could care about you and you’re wrong. I do. And I never meant to worry you. Look at me Evie”. He lifted his hands to her face, fingers along her jaw so she couldn’t turn away, feeling the wetness of tears against his own damp skin. 

His eyes were full of tears she could see that much, and seeing Diego hurting felt like all the pain and nausea inside her twisting and getting worse as a sob caught in her throat. 

“I want you. Nobody else. Don’t leave me” he murmured. She had no words and he watched her, seeing the way she was struggling in herself. Moving he half stood, bracing himself with a knee on the bench beside her, as he leaned forward and captured her mouth in a kiss. Part of him expected - feared - that she’d resist, but as his mouth closed on hers - tasting salt and iron - she tilted her face upwards and kissed him back. Eve wished she could have had the strength in her heart but truthfully - she was desperate to keep him in her life. Hating herself she opened her mouth to him, sure of her own weakness and how pathetic she was, and knowing Patch was more worthy of him - she couldn’t blame him for preferring Eudora - and yet so alone and crazy for him specifically that she gave in anyway. 

Breaking away from her he stroked his fingers down her face, searching her eyes.

“Come home with me”.

She nodded, even as fresh tears welled up in her eyes and the self-loathing made her mouth taste of bile. Even to him her agreement didn’t feel like a victory, this wasn’t resolved. At this moment though getting her home was a start and, stepping back, one hand yanked the knife out the wood and the other reached for her, waiting as she shook her fingers and cooled them before sliding her hand into his. Pulling her upright Diego pressed a kiss to her temple before leading her to the car.

At least he’d found her.

sad times continued

@lovinglydiego @klausbutgayer @reblogserpent @me125 @fatbottomedcurls @mrsdiegohargreeves @carryon-doctor-lock @rhymesmenagerie  @eleventhdoctorsangel​