#me the day after drinking way too much at the halloween function

[brandonxdylan]

[galaxyedging]

@sp00kymulderr I made a thing for your Dick Pronoun Fic Challenge.

Max Phillips x f!reader.

WC:1.3k

Warnings: some brief smut. Mainly rude words.

Summary: Max tried to tempt you into making a very specific appointment with him.

Coffee Cup Coupling

After Halloween, Thanksgiving and with the lead up to Christmas, the call centre was quiet. It was too early for last minute panic buying of the useless, overpriced tat that you were pushing. 

The peace in the office gave you time to work on some other contracts that you had been pursuing for the company in the hopes of getting the permanent manager job currently being temporarily filled by corporate’s hot shot, Max Phillips.

Max had won most of the team over, but you remain sceptical. Sure, he was charming and capable in his role. You could see how people may find him attractive. Maybe, if you were honest with yourself, you could find him attractive, too. Maybe the latent attraction was what prompted your late night confession to your best friend.

“I'm not interested in a setup.” You sigh, letting your tired body sag into your office chair. “I don't want a boyfriend. I could do with a casual fling, though.” You mused aloud. 

Your bestie’s response is lost to your attention as you hear something in the darkness outside your office door.

“I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye.” The phone in your hand is forgotten before you hear a response. “Hello?” You call into the darkness.

Anxiety and years of watching horror movies kick in as you approach your open office door. You mentally scold your active imagination as your throat tightens with each step. Just as you approach the threshold, someone steps forward and scares the shit out of you.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” Max laughs, standing in front of you with two mugs of crappy office coffee. “I just thought I'd check if you needed anything. Coffee?”

Once you swallow your heart back to its original position, you decline the coffee. “The coffee here sucks.”

Max smiles widely, showing all his teeth. “Yeah. I can think of better things to drink.” He set the mugs down on your file cabinet. “If I can't help you with that, maybe I can help with your other issue?”

“Other issue?” You search your memory for any issues around the office, coming up blank. You ask Max to elaborate.

“Your need for casual sex. I'm more than happy to schedule a dick appointment. After all, a happy workforce is a productive workforce.”

He says it as if he's offering to get you a new toner for your copier.

After a moment of being dumbfounded, you answer him. “No. I don't need a Dick Appointment with you, Max. If anything, you can get me a decent coffee in the morning.” You give him a tired quirk of your lips as you leave for home.

The next morning, a hot cup of black coffee is sitting on your desk with Max’s elegant scroll across it.

‘If you don't fancy a Dick Appointment, how about a Member Meeting?’. Catching his eye from his office on the other side of the hallway, you sigh and shake your head. 

Taking a sip, you fire off a quick email to him. ‘I take it with milk and sugar.’

He quirks an eyebrow before replying. ‘I figured you'd like to take it hot and strong this morning’.

The next morning, the smell of sugary sweet tinge bitterness hits you. The cup has ‘How about a Phallus Function?' scrawled on it this time.

‘No. Way too much sugar. I only take two’ is the emailed response.

On Thursday the perfect coffee is waiting with the less than perfect words ‘How about a Cock Cookout?’ on the side.

Friday’s coffee reads ‘How about a Weenie Weekend?’.

Saturday’s coffee says ‘How about a Pecker Party?’

Monday and Tuesday's morning coffees are message free and taken in your own home as you come down with a cold.

Wednesday’s cup is emblazoned with ‘How about a Peter Powwow?’. It is filled with hot, sweet tea with lemon.

‘No, coffee?’ you email.

‘Lemon helps with colds’ comes the reply that you think about for way too long that day.

Thursday cup is an immune system boosting blend with ‘How about a Shaft Social?’ on the side. 

‘Vitamin infused tea?’ you query.

‘You need to be in good shape to handle my massive cock.’ you see him shrug as he sends it.

On Friday, you doubt you'll see a cup waiting for you as the snow shuts down some of the local area. You are presently surprised to find a hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and cream. Less surprising and pleasant is the note ‘How about a Prick Parade?’

Saturday rolls around again meaning you are only in the office for a few hours yet there sits a cup. ‘How about a Shaft Social?’

Monday follows a night of drinking for a coworkers birthday. The coffee is a welcome sight. In your delicate condition even the message makes you smile. ‘How about a Tool Tea?’

The first sip burns in more ways than one. As you raise your head with a questioning look, your computer chimes. 

‘Hair of the dog. I told you, I need you in good condition. It really is a fucking huge cock.

The cup hides your second smile.

Tuesday's offering is a fancy caramel coffee. ‘How about a Johnson Jolly?’

‘Caramel?’ you type with one hand as you drink in the flavour.

‘You ate them from the chocolates in the staff room.’ comes the reply.

Wednesday brings ‘How about a Manhood Match Up?’ Along with another fancy concoction.

‘This isn't an Americano.’ You lick the foam from your lips.

‘I'm running out of euphemisms. I have to up my game somehow.’ His own tongue mirrors the movement of yours.

Thursday is another foam topped extravaganza. ‘How about a Schlong Shindig?’

Friday is the same with ‘How about a Willy Weekend?’

Saturday brings the office party and not one but two coffees. One when you arrive ‘How about a Wood Wooing?’ and another when you retreat to your office to freshen up for drinks. ‘How about a Length Luau?’

Max closes his door and removes his jacket. It gets tossed on his office sofa followed by his tie. His shirt is half undone when the knock comes at his door. He instantly regrets not putting the mistletoe up on the door frame as you stand there.

“Hey.” He greets trying his best to sound casual as his cock thickens at the thought that he has finally worn you down. He stops at half mast when he sees you have just brought him a cup of crappy punch.

“Here I was hoping you were here for you Massive Cock….er…” he struggles for a word he hasn't used before.

“No more Dick Appointment alternatives, please! Here.” you hand his punch in a red cup.

“Fine.” he lets out a defeated sigh before taking a sip of his drink. “Urgh. This might even be more disappointing than not getting laid.’ 

“Aw, maybe this will cheer you up.” you reach for his cup, turning it in his hand to reveal the note on the side. ‘How about a Vagina Visit?’

Cheap rum punch soaks into the carpet as Max tossed both cups so you can get your hands on each other. Your hands grab his ass and his thick bicep while he grips your thigh and tit through your dress. His full lips work their way up to that sweet spot behind your ear until he pauses. “Out of interest, which phrase did it for you?” 

“It was the beverage choices and how sweet they were. Maybe you're not a complete ass. Although pausing to ask that….” Max seeks to correct his misstep by kissing you deeply. Moments later, when you gasp finally taking his cock, and almost choking it in the process, Max is glad he didn't have to resort to Dang Dalliance or Erection Engagement.

[vulpine111]

I slept pretty much all day after I came home from my methadone dose.

I got up and enjoyed a burger I fryed myself not long ago. I wish I had someone to take me down the street to the dollar store now, but Grandpa can't at this hour. (I'm out of energy drinks.)

I don't feel like walking anywhere.

The DK station around the corner from where I live seems to have shut down. Maverick's is only a little further but they have some weird no bag policy which complicates everything. I just want to avoid Maverick's because I carry my wallet around in a little backpack.

The energy drinks at the dollar store are only maybe $1.50, but I don't have the executive function for the bus right now. I wish Dymond could/would take me, but I'm still mad at him for dismissing me as a "drug addict" when the pain clinic screwed me over.

So, now I want to avoid asking him for anything. He'll probably say something annoying like "take the bus" or tell me it's time to quit energy drinks anyway.

This sucks because I also want to look around TJ Maxx and maybe even ROSS for Halloween towels, more socks, etc. Maybe even splurge $20 on a hash chocolate bar from a dispensary that's too far up the street for me to walk.

I have $836 right now. My SSI hit yesterday and a lot of it is going to bills, though. I am just waiting on a utilities statement before I find a ride to the credit union to pay early.

I'm considering splurging the $40 + shipping on some Gamersupps, finally. It might save me money on energy drinks. The lychee flavor looks great.

I don't know how long it would take to get here, though. It also definitely won't solve my problem of having nothing caffeinated for the morning before I go to get my next methadone dose, sadly.

It's not exactly energizing, but I have a bunch of fresh ginger to boil on the stove and make "ginger water" I keep forgetting about. It would be better than plain water or nothing. I guess I'll do that soon.

I also want to finally order a copy of Recovery Dharma. I keep putting it off. That's going to be my gift to myself for making it to 3 years free from alcohol since it's cheaper than getting a cake to share with friends.

Maybe I'll find a way to AA to get a coin to mark this milestone too. I will touch base with my sponsor this weekend.

Anyways, I imagine my bills will come out to about $300 for rent and utilities, plus $15 for renter's insurance and $60 for my phone bill. That leaves me with $460 to get me through this month. At least half of that has to go to food because I only get about $100 food stamps a month.

[wandasmistress]

Only Mine

Synopsis- The yearly Halloween party is taking place and Wanda made the perfect outfits for you both, but will Natasha and Tony’s ramblings get in the way of you two? 

Pairings- Bottom!Wanda Maximoff x Top!Reader

Warnings- 18+ Content, and Drinking

Word Count- 6.9k

A/N- Been dyin to write this, it’s been in my ideas pile staring at me for the longest😩

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

It was October 31st, Halloween, at college. This was the day everyone could dress up in the most revealing skin-tight costumes, showing as much skin as possible while crowded together in a humid compact room that reeked of alcohol and hormones.

The frat house you were currently walking to in the depth of the night was booming, the loud pop music blasted down the street, and you could feel the vibrations on the very sidewalk you walked. Police did not come because the block was filled with students who are currently attending the biggest party of the year, and other residents were too afraid of petty college students t-ping their house or worse if they sent a complaint.

You were walking to the entrance of the sonorous house hand in hand with Wanda, she was about to combust on the spot from all the exhilaration she was feeling. The only reason she even wanted to go to this party was to show off the costume she had thoughtfully planned for you both. She was a homebody, she told you that she would rather spend the night snuggled up in the covers with you while binge-watching all the Halloween Town movies with a bucket of candy between you both. But because of her newly brought on matching costume idea and your constant grumbling about going to the ‘biggest function of the decade’ and ‘everyone is going, I can't miss out’ that's why you were currently walking deeper into the deafening commotion.

She clung to your right arm as you walked forward, you looked to your side with a wide smile on your face, admiring her beauty. You were lucky to be with Wanda and extremely fortunate to have her feelings be reciprocated, to have her be in love with you too. She had an enormous smile plastered on her face, all teeth showing as her cheeks were rosy from the cold wind blowing on her face. It's like she could sense you staring because in the next moment she looked up into your eyes with such adoration, her jade green eyes glowing in the moonlight as the edges of her eyes creased from her smile.

“If you see something you like don't be afraid to make a move Y/n.” She told you as a smirk settled on her face.

“Then I would have to take you right here, right now, in this heavily polluted front yard.” You joke turning around to look at your surroundings, red plastic cups scattered on the lawn and various pieces of clothing items.

She giggled against your front, slapping your chest as she shook her head in laughter.

“Why did we even come here in the first place?” She questions you with a raised eyebrow after she stops laughing, staring deep into your eyes.

You stepped back in a quick motion as you stuck your hands out and wiggled your fingers, with wide eyes and a goofy face, “Because of these god awful costumes!”

She knows that you are only joking but she can't help but wonder if that's how you truly feel, she shifts on her feet feeling regretful while you stood shaking your hands.

“I thought you said that you liked them… that they looked good.”

“Well-,” You tell her, advancing on her and placing your fingers on her clothed waist, “you look absolutely stunning tonight, dear. But I- I look like I got pulled right out of the 60s infomercial.” You conclude by gripping her waist tighter and reeling her into you.

She bit her lip to hold her laugh then released a huff of breath, “That means I did well.” She tells you bringing your faces closer, her nose brushing against yours for a brief second. You tilt your head to form a splendid sealed kiss with the dark-haired beauty before you. 

Her fierce lips feel perfect against yours, they mold together so flawlessly like they were made just for each other. She tasted like strawberries and cream, a divine blend, making you release a low moan into her mouth which granted her access to your calling tongue which has been silently awaiting her entrance into your mouth. 

Being this close to Wanda drowns out the boisterous noise surrounding you both. But you guys are in your own world for as long as you are in each other hold.

A loud yell from behind you brings you out of your trance, you look over to see what caused the noise and you find an already drunk Sam waving a beer bottle in the air as he stumbles in his spot on the porch. From taking one glance at him you can tell he is dressed up as a 90s fighter pilot, he always raved on about his grandpa was in the triple nickles and how he wanted to get his pilot's license so he could soar above the clouds.

“Would you love birds stop kissing for one goddamn second, you're making all the lonely people jealous over here!” He slurred in a shout as he held onto the porch rail for support.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You waved him off as you turned around to face Wanda.

Her lips were plump and red from being sucked on in previous moments, a smug grin growing on your face as you thought of all the things you wish you could do to her at the moment, its like she caught onto your thought because a knowing smirk crept up her precious face a few seconds later. You lowered your head to meet her face once again and gave her multiple sloppy kisses around the corner of her mouth and cheek. She basked in your warmth for a few seconds until you gently shoved her away causing her to let out a yelp.

Before she could comprehend what happened a beer bottle came whizzing past both of your heads, you turned back around to Sam in shock. She didn't know how your instincts were that good but she wasn’t complaining. You were a little angry knowing if that bottle hit either of you this night would be ruined, but he was drunk so you let it slide this one time. But you weren't gonna let him off the hook that easy.

“What the fuck Sam?” 

“I told you to knock it off, save that for the bedroom ladies. Although Tony might love to-” 

He was cut off by Wanda clapping her hands to shut him up quickly before he said another word to trigger you both.

Before Wanda could scold him he scurried back inside the house raising his hands in defeat as he snickered to himself, being the only one to find his drunk ramblings hilarious.

You rolled your eyes and looked at Wanda with a sorry expression. She didn't know why you were trying to convey an apology because she knew it wasn't your fault for your friend's drunk nonsense but you couldn't help it.

She took your hand in hers and shook off the past interaction with Sam as she marched over to the stairs, dragging you along with her until she was at the entrance of the door, the door is wide open and all it took was for Wanda to pull you past the threshold for the noise to really take a toll on your ears. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and turned to see Wanda’s miserable face, she was dreading this environment so much that you were quick to rub her arms with your cool hands, hoping to reel her back in.

“It's gonna be okay. We’ll stay here for a while and then we can leave and go do whatever you want after this, okay?” You asked her looking into her hesitant eyes.

“Fine, I hope you know I’m only doing this for you.” A small blush crept up your cheeks at her comment.

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” You replied to her comment giving her a quick wink as you looked on into the crowd.

Unexpectedly you heard collective laughter coming from the left of you both, you whipped your head around to find your group of friends doubling back in laughter. 

Your hands dropped down to your sides as Nat, Tony, and Steve walked over to you and Wanda, passing through the thick crowd of student bodies.

“Look at you! Finally decided to make it, huh?” Slurred Tony as he came up in your personal space, his breath wreaking of tequila and vodka. You tried not to heave as you scrunched your face up in disgust.

“We weren’t late, you just drank too much and lost the concept of time in five minutes.” You shot back feeling slightly annoyed, you felt Wanda’s hand rub your back as she hoped to ease some of your tension.

Before Tony could utter another word a loud obnoxious laugh came from Natasha, you rolled your eyes and put your hands to your face knowing exactly what was coming next.

“What the absolute fuck are you wearing Y/n?” She near hollered as she stumbled into Steve's side with the force of her laugh.

“Shut up please-” You groan as you kept your face in your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ! Did you steal clothes from Steve’s closet or what?” Tony joked as he let out a chuckle, Natasha’s eyes winced closed from her laughter as she slapped Tony on the back and held onto Steve’s arm for support.

What you failed to notice was Wanda’s disheartened gaze as she watched in on the interaction happening, feeling discouraged that she made a fool out of herself and you with these costumes.

“Watch it, Tony, you're lucky I don't swing on drunk people,” Steve warned Tony as he stared daggers into the back of his head.

Tony and Natasha burst out in another ensemble of laughter at Steve’s pretend seriousness. They both knew he was bluffing because he wouldn't hurt a fly if his life depended on it.

“It was Wanda’s idea,” You told them as a final resort, “She wanted to dress up as Laura Petrie and I agreed to dress up as Rob Petrie.” You mumbled the last line quietly, but enough for everyone to hear over the music.

“Who the hell is that?” Natasha cried out in a fit of giggles that were consuming her.

“From the- the Dick Van Dyke show,” You said a bit more confidently starting to get pissed off at your friend's reaction to your well-designed costume.

Wanda rolled her eyes at Nat’s behavior, she started to feel self-conscious about the costumes and her hand left your back as her arms wrapped around the front of her torso as a nervous reaction.

You stopped paying attention to your friends when you felt Wanda’s hand leave your body. You turned around to see her looking down at the floor embarrassed, and that was the last straw for you. She was so excited to put together these outfits taking hours out of her busy school week to make sure she had the exact measurements for you both and then put them together by hand. And you could admit you were being a shameful girlfriend by not sticking up for her and letting them rain on her parade.

You whipped your head back around to catch Tony and Nat whispering and laughing at what the other said. Subtle anger grew in you and you snapped.

“Shut the fuck up!” You yelled, no one in the crowd turned over to see the commotion because of the alcohol, blaring music, and possibly dimension altering drugs, “She worked hard on these outfits and I won't let you trash them for shits and giggles.” 

Natasha and Tony quickly stopped laughing from your sudden outburst and kept quiet till you were done with your rant, looking at you like deer caught in headlights.

“These costumes were creative and she’s by far the most lovely looking woman in this whole place. Nat, you came in a black cat leather costume, how original, wonder where you got that idea from. And you Tony, the terminator costume, you look like the least intimidating person in the room right now.” You scolded them as you started to run out of breath from your rant and how hot you felt, “God! Why is it so fucking muggy in here.” You ended airing yourself off.

You know you shut Natasha and Tony up for good because they mumbled a few incoherent words and wandered off towards the crowd, scratching their necks and glancing down at their outfits every few seconds.

Your steady breath started to come back to you after they left and you closed your eyes in brief relaxation before you turned around, hoping to apologize to Wanda. But she was gone, it’s like she disappeared, one second she was by your side and the next she missing. Your heart stopped for a second as worry overtook you, the need to find her and apologize for being such a dick prevalent. You ran your fingers through your hair, messing up the gelled style Wanda applied to it earlier trying to best replicate Rob Petrie’s look. You can still remember her face, she was so thrilled when you accepted her costume idea and she was even more cheerful handing you the overly loose suit, ushering you into the bathroom to get changed. She was even happier to see you in the suit, sitting you down to make your hair just right for the look, sitting in your lap as she bit her lip in deep concentration.

You tried to salvage the last of your gelled hair as you run your hand smoothly over the side of your hair, you closed your eyes shaking your head thinking how you managed to fuck up so badly not feeling as excited to have come to the party now.

“I actually like it,” Steve said assessing your costume, you stood awkwardly under his gaze as his finger came to his chin and his eyebrows raised in thought.

“Of course, you would Steve, no offense.” You added softy as you looked down at the floor playing with your finger, wishing you were anywhere but this stupid party right now.

Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he walked with you in a different direction, “Look I don't know where she went, but, I know if she heard that brilliant speech you gave she would be making out with you right now. Tongue down your throat, hands all over your-” You stopped him quickly as you pulled a grimace and waved your free hand in the air ushering him to stop speaking. You knew he was trying to help but he was just making it much worse, you craved the touch of Wanda, her smell, her laugh, her smile, her.

The next thing you knew you arrived in front of a large white table, filled with drinks of all sizes. Whiskey, vodka, tequila, rum, gin, and cold beer stacked in an overflowing cooler of ice. You thought to yourself that drinking something would ease off the stress of the night. 

Steve was like the red devil on your left shoulder, how fitting, because that was his exact outfit, he was a red devil. He was in a dark red suit, no undershirt, you could see his rock-hard abs peeking out the top and pushing through the fabric.

“One drink wouldn't be so bad. Here, I’ll drink one with you.” He said pushing a cold bottle of beer into your warm hands, the coolness relaxing you just a little. 

You nodded as you looked at him on your side, his smile making you let out a low chuckle at his enthusiasm. Parties weren't just about drinking and dancing all the time, you looked around the kitchen to see multiple people with their heads down as they were passed out and mountains of empty liquor bottles making your stomach clench. You took back your words about parties not just being about drinking booze and dancing.

“Yeah, one drink wouldn't hurt.” You told Steve with a fake smile, his face lighting up as he shimmied in his spot doing a little shake as he ‘raised the roof’ with his hands causing you to laugh at his antics.

»

One drink turned into five, and five drinks turned into ten. It's safe to say that you and Steve were drunk right now. But of course, that didn't cross your mind as Steve brought up an idea for a drinking game.

When you finished your last beer bottle with a chug Steve slapped you on the back causing some loose liquor to fall out your mouth. You coughed harshly as you scrunched up your eyebrows and looked at his drunken form. He had a hazy smile on his face as he came closer to you.

“Let’s do shots. One won't hurt right?” He asked already grabbing a full bottle of vodka that rested on the full table of drinks.

You shook your head in protest but your mouth betrayed you, “Why not!” You shouted, the effects of the alcohol not catching up with you yet. 

He started setting up the shots while stumbling in his spot, your drunken laughter filled the room as you saw him fumbling to pour the smooth liquid into the small cups. When he finished he gave you a quick shove and faced your way again. He could see the anticipation dripping down your face, you were both very competitive and loved winning in anything.

“Okay, so whoever finishes all the shots first gets to slap the other person,” He told you with raised eyebrows, bouncing in his spot, Steve drunk was something else, “Deal?”

You didn't even have to think before you agreed with a nod and faced the endless row of shots, a small voice in the back of your head telling you to abort and run away but it was drowned out by all the liquor in your system. 

Steve started a countdown, sticking his arms out to prevent you from starting before he finished, “Three, two… one!” He yelled the last number, his hands flying to the first cup.

You were about to yell at him in opposition to him blocking you but you stopped yourself as you saw he had already downed two shots. You didn't want to get slapped by Steve's big beefy hands, he would most likely slap you ten times harder from being drunk and not having that much control over his strength.

You snatched up two shots and opened your mouth wide, downing two at a time. In no time this technique got you down to four shots quickly. Steve looked over to your line of shots to see you were almost done while he had eight left. He let out a squawk in anger and turned back to finish as many shots as he could before you.

In the end, you won, the thick liquid sending a sting to your throat as it went down too smoothly. When the last shot cup dropped to the floor you let out a loud ‘yes’ and raised your hands in the air, happy you beat Steve.

You looked over to him, he was still on his last drink and the cup fell from his hands as he realized he had lost. He let out a loud groan, slamming the table with his fist in disappointment causing the scattered liquor bottles to shake in their place and cups to fall onto the floor in a heap.

You wasted no time in repositioning him to face you, you licked your lips as you brought your hand back. With a slick grin on your face, you swung your hand down, smacking Steve across the cheek. A loud clap echoed through the kitchen. You brought your hand up covering your mouth in laughter, slapping Steve was a highlight of your night something you definitely would never forget.

After that slap, Steve was feeling vengeful, he wanted to get you back so instead of filling up his cups all the way he would only pour a little in. But he overfilled yours leaving the liquid peaking out the top. You were still basking in your glory from beating Steve and the wandering crowd that had started to accumulate around you both was cheering you on, too busy dancing in your spot to notice Steve’s devious plan unleashing.

Steve slammed the empty bottle of vodka on the table, reeling your attention to him, a wicked smirk plastered on his face. 

“Ready for round two?” He asked sinisterly.

“You know it, Stevie!” You yelled, slapping him on the back as you slightly stumbled from your delayed movements.

Your hands planted palm down on the wobbly table as Steve started the countdown again.

“Three… Two… One!” He shouted slapping the back of your head to deter you, making you jump and lose focus.

The cheering of people got you back on track as you started to down the drinks that seemed endless, you weren't going as fast as you were previously and that brought your spirit down, these damn drinks were never-ending.

Still, on your third shot, you heard the crowd start to roar in mixes of boos and cheers, you looked up to see that Steve had magically finished all his shots. Your face dropped in surprise and that's when you saw Steve's evil smirk, your stomach dropped as you realized what he had done, it was too late to back out now as he gripped your shoulder keeping you in place as he proceeded to slap the living shit out you. Your soul felt like it was about to leave your body and then a burning stinging sensation came from your left cheek.

You were too drunk to notice Wanda in the crowd staring at you intently, she wasn't cheering or booing for the winner and loser. She looked at you with longing wishing you would step out of your immature drinking game with Steve and be with her. Her heart froze when she saw you get slapped thinking how you deserved it just a little. But she wanted so badly to go and rip you from his hold and put ice on your cheek to make you feel better, she was about to until you started uncontrollably laughing from the slap. Her shoulders dropped as she looked away and slowly backed out of the crowd, grabbing a full bottle of raspberry Smirnoff vodka. What was supposed to be a night full of fun, dancing in your arms turned out to be the exact opposite and she couldn't help but be dispirited.

»

As the party grew impossibly bigger the deeper the night got you and Steve had managed to gather a larger crowd around you both chanting for you both to keep going but that all turned around when Steve was about to win again and ended up projectile vomiting across the table. People trembled with anger, all the liquor that was now of no use and the vile smell that came. The crowd slowly dispersed back to the party.

You and Steve started in a fit of wild laughter, the alcohol has overtaken both of you severely. Then you felt a smack against the back of your head and you hissed at the feeling bringing your hand to rub the spot. The next thing you saw was Sharon popping into your field of view with a towel and bottle of water. She had a stern look on her face when you met eye contact with you and her features softened when she looked at Steve.

She grabbed his bicep as she redirected him away from the kitchen, away from you. She looked back at you with an annoyed expression and yelled.

“Nice job Y/n, real nice fucking job.” She exclaimed sarcastically as Steve let out a soft groan from his aching stomach, he most likely got alcohol poisoning.

You rolled your eyes and shouted back slurred, “He started it!”

You could hear her sneer as she walked out of the kitchen with Steve, you shrugged your shoulders sauntering out of the kitchen in the opposite direction, hopefully, you could find Wanda and attempt to apologize in your drunken state. Stumbling your way onto the dance floor, you looked around in a haze as you leaned your back against the wall for support. You brought your hand up to your face and ran it down, you were already exhausted and wanted nothing but to go home and call it a night, but first, you had to find Wanda.

It didn't take long to find her, her old-fashioned 60s dress making her stick out like color in a crowd of black and white. She was glistening from the sweat probably from being packed around a bunch of other bodies in a room that wasn't built for this amount of humans.

She held an almost empty vodka bottle in the air, she was drunk, beyond drunk. She was wiggling her hips wildly as she jumped up and down. Your mouth was agape as you looked on. Your heartstrings tugging because you have never seen her like this, you've never seen her drink this much alcohol ever and you couldn't help but feel responsible. You cowered in your spot wishing you could sink into the wall and never be released. The blasting music was beating on your eardrums the more you stared at her. Her hair was bouncing about and you remembered how she bumped her ends so she could look more like Laura Petrie, which made your heart ache more. 

In a room of people, she was the most bewitching, the way her skin shone in the neon lights, the way her dress hugged her curves tight, and the way her smile entranced you. She is your world, and you had to make it right with her because the guilt was eating you up. As you contemplated walking up to her and pulling her out of her frenzy a sweaty shirtless man with long black hair crept up behind her, your body froze in its spot and anger bubbled up within you. He slowly placed his hands on her hips dipping them lower until they rested on her pelvis. He started to grind on her, pressing his front into her rear. He was practically dry humping her in the middle of the dance floor. She didn't notice because the buzz of the alcohol distracted her from any presence behind her. They swayed together on the dancefloor and a grimace crossed your face. 

Your blood ran cold and your hands fisted as you seethed through your mouth. Still in your thoughts, as violent saying ran rampant through your mind you started to unconsciously walk towards the pair, trudging through the big crowd to reach your destination. People instantly moved out of your way, seeing your angry face as you whizzed past them.

Wanda was still in the moment, the music bringing her to a different dimension almost as if she was on drugs, then when she opened her eyes all she saw was you storming over to her. She tried to think of what she did wrong to see such revulsion mixed with distaste broadcasted on your face. She immediately brought her hands down from the air and stopped dancing to assess her surroundings to find the problem. And that's when she heard an unpleasant deep voice whisper in her ear, nothing like yours.

“Come on baby, why’d you stop. You were loving it so much.” She wanted to hurl at the pet name he called her. She stumbled as she turned around and backed away from him, not realizing he was behind her the whole time. Now she knew why you were advancing on her with your fist in a ball, thunder in your steps.

‘I-I didn't. No, I don’t like it, and don't call me baby!” Wanda stuttered as she reprimanded him tripping over her heels that she found at a vintage clothing store. 

Before she could scold him some more she felt a strong grip on her waist, when she looked over she saw your rage-filled face, but you didn't meet her gaze, you stared daggers into the man in front of you. You moved her towards you without sparing her a glance, sidestepping her and snatching the bottle from her hands. She let out a squeal from the power you exerted.

The next thing she saw was the basically empty bottle coming in contact with the side of the man's face, his screams shook everyone on the dancefloor as people stopped dancing to look at the occurrence. You took the opportunity at his weakened form to hop onto him sending punch after punch to his face, the shocked noises of people silence out the pleas of Wanda telling you to stop.

You don't hear her as fury has completely overtaken you, why was he touching your woman, who does he think he is? Wanda tries to pull you off but it's like you're planted on top of him and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t. She stumbles back, worried displayed on her features.

All it took was Sam and Bucky spotting what was happening on the dancefloor for them to pull you off of the man. He had a busted lip and swelling eye, you weren't even close to being done with him when they pulled you off. You kicked your legs angrily as strong hands pulled you back from your biceps.

The man could charge you for assault but this was Tony’s frat house and he could just tell the police that he was trespassing and causing trouble which would grant you in the clear, but you knew he wouldn't try because of the shame he had for being beaten by a woman. 

Once they pulled you off Wanda came into your view with worried filled eyes, her hands roamed your face looking for any sign of bruising or blood even though you were the only one who landed successful punches. She bit her lip harshly as she examined your face, your anger dissipating at seeing her in such distress. Her hands came to rest on your chest.

“Are you okay?” She asked sucking on the inside of her cheek as she held in the urge to slap you from being so careless.

You shook your head at loss for words as she dragged you away from the dancefloor and into a secluded hallway that was isolated from people.

“Why the fuck would you do that Y/n? You could've gotten yourself hurt.” She tells you.

“Because he was all over you, you didn't see the way he was touching you. It made me so fucking angry. I’m sorry, Wands.” You said shakily as her soft hands cupped your cheeks.

“I know, I know you're sorry. I heard that speech that you gave to Tony and Nat, I was just too pissed to come back and talk to you.”

A smile broke out on your face when you realized Wanda wasn’t totally angry with you. You shook your head, your nerves calming down finally. A beam erupted on her face, she held your cheeks in place as she came in for a kiss.

You weren't expecting her to break out in a kiss with you but you accepted it gratefully, savoring the taste of her lips. The tangy leftover taste of what you could tell was raspberry vodka scattered on her lips. The kiss started to intensify as your hands found their place on the sides of her waist. You squeezed her waist in satisfaction, she opened her mouth slightly to allow you entrance to her tongue. Your tongue automatically wrapped around hers as she let out a soft moan.

You pulled her closer towards you as you sucked on her lower lip, making her squirm in her spot. Butterflies erupted in her stomach as it twisted and clenched in need of you there.

You pushed her against what you thought was a wall but a door burst open and you both stumbled into the small closet that was surprisingly empty, you didn't waste any time in slamming the door shut with your foot.

You shoved her against the flat wall roughly which made her groan, the spot between her legs started to wet uncontrollably. You moved your head to her jaw sucking on it harshly making sure there would be marks, your lips then traveled to her aromatic warm neck that smelled of fresh roses with a hint of peppermint. Releasing a moan from the anticipation bubbling up inside of you.

She twisted her head as you continued to suck on the soft flesh of her skin, she was in heaven right now in your arms. She couldn't get enough of you as she brought her hands up to your shoulders and pushed you down. You knew what she was hinting at and a smug smile crawled on your face.

You stepped away from her as your hands came to her back, unzipping her dress from behind while keeping eye contact with her. She bit her lips in suspense and smiled, her nose scrunching up just a little which always made you go wild, that was enough for you to harshly bring the zip down. Her dress seemingly glided off of her body like dripping water, she brought her hands down to her side so the dress could fall off perfectly. She was perfect, way past perfect. 

She had on a dark red velvet matching set of lingerie, your eyebrows raising in surprise, maybe she planned this all along for you both to end up wrapped in each other's arms when the night ended.

Her pale skin contrasts beautifully with the set, the way her breast poked out from the top of the bra. The way her toned stomach flowed with her breathing, and the way her slim legs stood next to each other, slightly trembling from your presence. 

Your hands came down to her waist again as you connected your foreheads, breathing her in.

“Only I get to call you baby, no one else.” You whispered in the silent room, the music being silenced from the door.

She shook her head ardently as her hands came up to the nape of your neck, she squeezed lightly. You delivered a sloppy kiss to her plump lips, she craved them so much she felt like she was going to faint from the touch.

When you backed your head away she let out a little whine but that was soon stopped when you lowered yourself to your knees taking off your suit jacket. You looked up at her from the ground and gave her a gentle smirk, in return she gave you a shy smile.

You quickly grabbed the back of the thighs and lifted her up, she got the memo and placed her thighs on your shoulders, her hands moving to the wall of support. Her breathing became rash as she realized the position you were in. You pressed her back against the wall to ensure she wouldn't fall over by any means. You were now facing her clothed pussy, you brought your finger up to slide the fabric over and in no time you were met with her bare cunt, glistening in the darkness.

You stuck your tongue out giving a single lick to her folds making the brunette goddess above you squirm, her thighs clamping tightly around your head, she interlaced her ankles making sure her hold didn't waver.

You sent your tongue to lick around her buzzing clit, you played with it for a few seconds before you rubbed it between your teeth. She let out a loud moan and rolled her eyes shut, pressing her head into the wall. You attached both your lips to her clit and began sucking wildly, making her shiver uncontrollably from the pleasure. 

You bring your head away from her sparkling cunt and whisper, “You're mine, and only mine, you understand, baby?” 

She sucked in a quick breath and breath out an elated yes, nodding her head against the wall, messing up her perfectly ironed hair. A smug smirk rested upon your face as you reattached your lips with her aching clit. You continued to mess around with it as you grazed your teeth against her clit, making her release a low growl. Her hands were back on your shoulder now, her fingers digging deep into your skin, your tank top proving ineffective at protecting your skin.

Once you finished with her clit you ran your tongue through her wanting folds, making her writhe above you, her legs tightening against your head more as she pressed your head forward with her shaking hands wanting you to go deeper.

Your tongue pushed past her folds and deeper into her, she releases a throaty deep moan. Pumping your tongue in and out of her like clockwork. Her hips start rutting against your tongue and she jerks her hips down so your tongue can go deeper. You're lucky that your tongue is long enough to reach the collection of nerves at the base of her pelvis. Her hands squeezing against your hair as the fulfillment is too much for her, she is reaching her breaking point.

All it takes is for you to nudge your nose into her sensitive clit and pop your tongue out from her and slip it back in for her to reach the edge and fall over. A series of short and long powerful moans were emitted from her mouth. Her walls tightened around your tongue and the next thing you knew was liquid filling up your mouth, you hungrily swallowed it down, some of the escaped liquid falling down your face to your neck. You were covered in her and you didn't mind one bit.

When she settled down and released her tight grip on your hair you removed your tongue and backed your head away to take a deep breath. Her thighs go limp on your shoulder as she rests her back completely against the wall. 

You gently take her legs from your shoulders and stand up, with uneven breathing and a fast-beating heart. You looked at her adoringly and closed in on her with a kiss. She could taste herself on your lips and that made her giddy and made her stomach clench again.

You pulled back and pulled a wide smile staring dreamily at her. She placed a quick pet on your lips, “Thank you, baby.”

Your face lit up at her soft tone and you bit your lip, “My pleasure, dear.” She came in for the kiss this time and savored it, savored your warm body against hers, and savored the taste of her on your tongue.

»

You helped Wanda get back into her dress that was splayed on the floor, zipping her up from behind as your cool hands passed over her bare shoulders which sent shivers down her spine. When you were done you placed a soft and long kiss on her shoulder. She closed her eyes taking this moment in as you whispered sweet nothings in her ear, she turned her head to the side to see that your eyes were closed as you were taking her in, her heart couldn't help but beat ten times faster at the sight. Her hair was anything but neat now, but resembling a lion's mane as her thick hair ran in every possible direction.

 You both exited the small closet, your suit jacket splayed over her shoulders, you didn't mind the goosebumps that were scattered across your arm. You decided to leave out the back door of the frat house, wanting to avoid all your friend's questions about the fight, saving it for another day and time. On your way out you snatched a sealed water bottle from the lone cooler. Wanda had already made her way outside and you rushed to catch up with her, scolding yourself at the headache you were starting to receive from your alcohol intake.

As you guys made it to the sidewalk heading back to the direction of your apartment you put your arm around Wanda’s clothed shoulder, she bit her lips as a small smile came to her face. She was loving the gentleness that you always showed her. You popped open the bottle by doing a quick trick you learned from Nat to open it with one hand.

You ushered the bottle towards Wanda and she looked up from her snuggled spot between your arm with raised eyebrows.

“Drink, you’re gonna thank me later.” 

She silently thanked you and took a sip, you looked at her with soft eyes. The way her mouth formed around the water bottle, the way her plump lips wrapped around the plastic did something to you and you wiggled in your spot.

She gave you the bottle back, half-drunken. She told you how if she drank anymore she would pee on the spot and you let out a chuckle and redirected your gaze ahead of you, pulling her in closer. You finished off the water bottle and stored it in your large pant pocket.

The rest of the walk home was silent but you both didn't mind, being close to one another was all you truly needed. She rested her head on your shoulder as you continued to walk, a content smile lacing its way onto your face.

 Her company was what always kept your blood moving and your heart pumping, and you couldn't get enough of it. 

»

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Law of Attraction (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader cannot understand how Spencer is in a relationship with someone who is his complete opposite. 

A/N: Hello Everyone!!! Here’s another story from the secret-fic-swap in the Discord server. I tried my hand at a new genre and I like how it came out. A big thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for helping me make this real nice for y’all (this story was also written to her). Enjoy!

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: If you’re a fan of Max or Maxcer, this may not be the story for you. Sacrifices needed to be made for this story to be told. 

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The thought that the concept of ‘opposites attract’ was only true when it comes to physics. After all, the comparison of people to magnets doesn’t make any sense. If two people are together, there should be some similarities to build an established relationship, right? Without that foundation, the structure will surely crumble back into the fragmented pieces that created it, leaving them cracked and weaker for it.

Compatibility is necessary, yet there is none whenever I look at them. This is the fourth function that he has brought her to, and with each event, I find it harder to look their way. But when I do find them among the crowd, I can’t look away. Like a car crash or thunderstorm ripping tree roots from the ground.

It doesn’t make sense to me, why on earth would Spencer Reid be with a girl like her.

“If you keep staring at her, she might drop dead,” said a sarcastic voice, breaking me out of my reverie. I turned to see Tara with an amused smile occupying her face.

“I just don’t get it,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on the drink in my hand.

“What’s not to get?” she asked, glancing over at the couple in question. “They seem cute together.”

“They have nothing in common. He might as well be talking to some random person in this bar.”

I chugged the remainder of my beverage with desperate hope that the alcohol will somehow make things better in this situation. It didn’t.

“You sound bitter.”

“I am not bitter,” I bit back.

“I didn’t say you were, I said you sound.”

I didn’t respond to her because deep down I knew she was right. I just fiddled with the straw in my now empty glass as Tara continued, “Look, they both like coffee and going to the park, that’s something.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my throat at the thought.

“So do half the people on the administration floor, he might as well have a harem if those are the main qualifications.”

“So what type of person should Spencer Reid have?” she asked, an eyebrow arching up as she focused her attention on me.

“I don’t know. Someone who is family-oriented and loves kids. Someone who doesn’t judge him for his idiosyncrasies. Someone who listens to his rambles and actually responds to them. Someone who he can escape to when things get too tough. Someone who understands when to give him space but will continue to support him unconditionally. Someone who can challenge him and make each day exciting and interesting. Someone who can ke—”

“Whoa there, I didn’t think you were going to give me a whole novel.” If she thought that was a novel, then the rest of what I wanted to say would be considered an encyclopedia. The only one that Spencer would never read.  

“I just want him to be happy,” I relented.

It was the simple truth. Everyone deserves some sort of contentment in their life, but with everything that Spencer has gone through in the past, his happiness should be at the forefront. He always put others before himself. It was time that someone prioritizes his wants and needs for a change.

“And she doesn’t make him happy?”

Not in the slightest. 

But I didn’t want to say that. I was sure half of the team already thought, or knew, that I was infatuated with him. But I didn’t need to give them the satisfaction of a confirmation by talking about this any further. The looks that Tara had been giving me the past few minutes validated my belief that I didn’t need to dig myself into a deeper hole.

“Maybe,” I said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

But just then, I heard a laugh despite how noisy the place was. I knew without a doubt that was Spencer’s laugh – it was the only sound that would demand my attention that quickly. It was the one he used when he felt uncomfortable.

“Excuse me, Tara.”

I didn’t give her a chance to reply before I hopped off the barstool and made my way to where Spencer and his girl were as casually as possible. Jennifer and Penelope were also with them, and it seems as if the three ladies were doing most of the talking.

“….like kids someday?” I heard Pen say. I didn’t need to hear the beginning of the sentence to know what it was about.

“Ehh, certainly not. My nephew is a handful as is, I don’t think I need any more than that one in my life,” she laughed. She, of course, being the ever loving, ever annoying, Max. A quick glance at Spencer's face confirmed that he was bothered by the subject being discussed. If the rest of the ladies were a bit more sober, they’d probably have seen it too.

“Hey guys,” I interrupted, taking my previous seat next to JJ, “I ordered some water for us and some appetizers. Tara is going to bring it over when it is ready.”

Cheers and thank you were shouted across the small table, but there was only one face I cared to pay attention to. Spencer’s mouth was quirked in a sad smile that was meant to hide the discomfort that had already taken root in his heart like an invasive vine.

“Did you place my fries order?” Max asked, garnering my attention. As much as I wanted to ignore her, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t openly be a bitch to her, no matter how much she irked me. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than stealing the affections of a man I’d never actually pursued, that is. But I couldn’t really blame her for that one, right? I should’ve jumped on the opportunity before. It was my fault.

“Yup,” I answered quickly with a small fake smile before focusing on the wooden décor of the bar.

“So any plans for Halloween? Assuming we don’t get called in for a case of course,” JJ asked the table.

“There is this pop-up haunted house coming that weekend.” Spencer said, his voice laced with that childlike excitement that made my heart race, “It is near the annual fair, so I’m going to try and do both.”

“Awww, that’s a cute date idea.”

The table was silent for a moment before Max announced, “I probably won’t go. I am not a big fan of anything spooky or… horror. I’ll leave all of that to this guy.”

The table shared an awkward laugh in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Anyway,” I coughed out, attempting to save this poor conversation, “you guys need to hear this terrible joke the bartender told me. So basically, this screwdriver walks into a bar….” and just like that, the topic had been changed.

Tara joined us shortly after and the conversation remained lighthearted for the remainder of the evening. We later said our farewells and readied ourselves to go back home. While I should’ve been sad to leave him, I couldn’t help but feel a bitter joy from the fact that Spencer and Max didn’t talk directly to each other for the rest of the night.

●●●

It’s been a couple of weeks since the last team outing. Rossi must’ve missed us, because he decided to host a dinner at his place to celebrate the ending of a long and tough case. No one was going to pass up the opportunity of free food and wine, especially after dealing with a bunch of cops and detectives with entire tree trunks up their asses.

I was the last to arrive, which was not surprising since I live the furthest away from Rossi. Krystall welcomed and settled me in while informing me where everyone was. What I assumed was a team gathering turned out to be a whole party. There were definitely more than two dozen people occupying the space.

Good god. 

“What’s all this?” I asked as I greeted Rossi in the, thankfully, empty kitchen. Because, of course, Rossi wouldn’t be Rossi if he didn’t take care of all the hors d'oeuvres himself.

“Krystall wanted to celebrate our anniversary,” he sighed, as if this ordeal was somehow troublesome. I had to roll my eyes; he wasn’t fooling anyone. We all knew that Rossi would move mountains for his wife.

Their love was pure and genuine, a perfect example of two people meeting again at the right time and sharing something wonderful with one another. As I reminisced on their beautiful wedding day, a thought came to my head.

“Isn’t your first anniversary coming up in a few months?”

“That’s for our second marriage, this is for the first.” Rossi simply stated with a proud smirk, as if it was standard to celebrate any and all anniversaries in life. I supposed that for him, it was.

“Why do I get the feeling that this was more your idea than Krystall’s?”

“Guilty.”

Classic. Well, I wasn’t going to tell a man what he should celebrate nor how to do so. I wasn’t going to ruin any opportunities to eat some fresh crostini.

Once I made my way back out into the main room, I was able to find my team within seconds. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer’s tall and lanky form. And I would’ve been excited for that, if it weren’t for the familiar woman standing beside him.

Max was there. Hooray.

Usually, I was able to properly prepare myself for seeing her. It actually, unfortunately, took a lot of effort to not be openly hostile to someone I dislike. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was true. Typically in a situation like this, I’d avoid the person all night. However, I wasn’t going to allow her presence to influence the night, much less stop me from spending time with one of my closest friends.

“Hey guys.”

“Ahh, you’re finally here,” squealed Penelope, “I already grabbed your favorite drink!” She stepped aside to make room for me in the small gathered circle before handing me the glass.

“So what did I miss?”

They all caught me up on the harmless gossip circulating around the office and the new happenings emerging in everyone’s lives. Everything was going well until I heard the next words from Max, words that felt like a bucket of ice water and lead being poured over my head.

“Well, Spencer and I are moving in together.”

Time slowed down, I was sure it had. Because I was able to gauge everything in a matter of seconds. Tara’s concerning glance my way, her hand reaching out and retreating as if to hold me. Penelope’s joyful appearance over the news, her arms rising quickly causing her wine to slightly spill on Rossi’s floor. Matt expressing congratulations as he roughly patted Spencer on the back.

And Spencer….

Spencer looked like he rather be anywhere but here. His lips were drawn in a too tight smile that I knew was far from authentic. He was tapping his heel against the floor and wringing his hands together.

If this was merry news from the two of them, why did he look like he swallowed a spiked fruit?

The loud clanging of metal against glass brought everyone’s attention to the noisy source. Time returned back to its normal pace at Rossi’s call, thanking everyone for joining in on the celebration and announcing that the food was ready in the dining room.

While everyone cheered and made their way towards the ornate display, I headed to the balcony. It was too hot, too stuffy, too loud inside the house. There was one too many people there.

As soon as I passed through the double doors, I took a deep breath of cool, refreshing air. Everything around me felt muffled. Like I had stumbled into a small pocket universe that only differed from ours by a few notches on the volume knob.

I was thinking too many things, and none of them adding up or making sense in my head. How do you move in with someone you’ve only known for such a short amount of time? What was he going to do with his apartment? With his personal belongings that were scattered and settled on crowded shelves? Why did he look so uncomfortable when she announced it? Did he not want us to know? Did he want to say it himself?

“What are you doing out here?”

As if being brought back to reality by the very same hypnotist who enchanted me in the first place, I became aware that I was not the only one on the balcony. I turned to look at Spencer, taking in his disheveled and tired appearance.

“I just needed some space. I was feeling a bit crowded.” It wasn’t a lie, but my companion and I both knew there was a lot more than just that. Trying to keep the attention off me, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you. I saw you come out here dressed like that and wondered what would drag you out into the freezing cold.”

Now that he mentioned it, the breeze was hitting hard. I didn’t notice my body trembling until now. It is funny how you can’t feel much when lost in your own thoughts. The pain was a welcome distraction, I supposed.

Spencer stood next to me and shrugged off the suit jacket he was wearing. I opened my mouth to refuse, but he gave me a pointed look before I could. Instead, I accepted the warm jacket over my body. The scent of cinnamon and spice immediately enveloped my form and I tried to hide the way my inhales grew deeper. Trying to keep him as close as I could for however long he would allow. He kept his hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down the sleeves of the jacket to instill some heat in me.  

“So whatever happened to taking it slow?” I asked bluntly, keeping my eyes on the interesting speck of dirt that had ended up on my shoe. I didn’t feel bad about getting to the point -- There was no way I could subtly ask him what the deal was, and I’d rather not beat around the bush.

“Well, after the whole situation that happened, sh— we decided to pick up the pace of things,” he spoke lowly, as if he was unsure of the words coming out of his mouth.

“Has she even met Diana? Or know about her?” I instantly regretted asking, the angry look he shot my way had me feeling remorseful. But it also answered my question.

Max only knew the surface level of Spencer. She wasn’t aware of all the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly layers that comes with a man like him. She wasn’t the only one to blame, but I wondered how a profiler couldn’t tell that he was hiding those parts from her because he didn’t want to share them with her. He didn’t want her to know, because the knowing made it real.

“I just want the best for you.”

His irritated expression dissolved into a defeated one as he released the breath he was holding.

“I know, I know. It’s just…”

He stopped talking, appearing scared to share his opinions and feelings with me before he remembered that, unlike Max, he never had to hide things from me. He didn’t want to.

“It’s just…” I prodded, hoping he would continue with what he was going to say.

But he just stayed stuck there, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. I could practically see the cogs in his brain whirling as he properly tried to explain. “Well, the thing is that Ma—”

“Spencer?”

We sharply turned our heads to see Max and Tara staring at us. It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered our position. With Spencer’s hands rubbing tenderness heat onto my arms, his jacket over my shoulders and our bodies pressed together to keep warm.

It would be one thing if everything was settled, but this situation was anything but. Max had every reason to be angry. This wasn’t a new thing to her. So when she turned around, she stomped away fueled by the belief that she’d nearly caught her boyfriend committing adultery. Again.

“Fuck,” I heard the man in front of me whisper as he released me back into the cold night.

Still, as he left, he looked back at me. His eyes burned into mine up until he tore them away, making his final decision and hastily running from the balcony. Away from me. Towards her.

Tara and I shared the silence, but she looked at me with those inquisitive eyes, as if I was a client seeking out therapy from her.  

“What?” I hissed, “We were just talking.” I refused to feel guilty over something that I didn’t do. If anyone had done anything, it was Spencer. But at the same time, I didn’t think he was entirely wrong, either.  

“I didn’t say anything,” she muttered, holding her hands up high as a sign of surrender.

“You didn’t have to, I can feel the judgment from here.”

“Look, I’m not judging you. But I do want you to put yourself in Max’s shoes. You guys were gone for a while and she finds you two all over each other.”

“What are you talking about, Tara? Christ, it’s not like I was fucking him on the balcony!”

Although I didn’t intend for my words to be humorous, Tara laughed. I was conflicted on whether it was at me or with me, but it ended up amounting to nothing, anyway.

“Look, the night is young and you need to relax. Come back inside, enjoy the party, and don’t let them bring you down. At least for the next few hours.”

She was right, as she usually was. It was why I usually sought her out as the voice of reason; I knew that despite everything, she would always have my best interest at heart.

“Okay,” I agreed before following her back into the chaotic fray.

I heeded her advice and avoided the couple for the remainder of the night. Shockingly, it was pretty easy, but I was sure it was because they were avoiding me too. There were times, lots of times, where Spencer and I made eye contact, but we’d just as quickly look away, as if we were ashamed of what we have done.

All we did was talk. So why did it feel like something more?

There were also times when I made eye contact with Max, but instead of shame, there was anger and contempt. If looks could kill, like Tara had suggested, I was sure my heart would have given out.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that I saw Max take a cab home while Spencer was still inside the house. No one else but me noticed that they didn’t leave the party together.

●●●

I hadn’t seen Spencer since the incident at Rossi’s a few weeks ago. He had to take his mandatory sabbatical leave and I had to take an abrupt trip back home. What used to be almost daily texts between us became nonexistent in a matter of hours. It was a terrible predicament that I was hoping to fix soon.

As I arrived, I spotted him at his desk. For a long time, I stood there staring at him. If he wasn’t nose deep in a bunch of files, I was sure he would’ve seen me, too. I contemplated on how I should go up to him, but nothing I could think of was good enough to say. 

Hey, I have your jacket, I took it to the dry cleaner’s, so it is all clean. Rid of me like you wanted to be. 

Hi, how were the lectures this time around? Still have a bunch of teens crushing on you?

What’s up, it’s been a while, do you want to get lunch during the break?

I hated that things were awkward, even though I was pretty sure that I was the only one that was making it so. I should have just gone up to him, greeted him, and acted like everything was normal, because everything was normal. Right?

Just when I was about to do so, Emily called us in for a meeting. Impeccable timing.

We had a serial killer case in Louisville, Kentucky. My situation with Spencer was going to the backburner.

During our stay in Louisville, Spencer and I barely interacted. We exchanged notes and passed long messages, but that’s pretty much it. I wasn’t surprised. Our specialties don’t really correlate when we are working on a case. Anytime I did catch some free time, I’d look his way, longing for the opportunity to speak to him. He didn’t look back.

Then, just as the case ended, another chance presented itself. After five days of hardly any proper rest, we finally found the unsub. Everyone was in their respective room catching up on some much needed sleep. Except for Spencer, whose gangly body was tucked away at the bar by himself, a glass of what appeared to be soda in front of him.

Silently, I took the seat next to him, and for a few minutes, everything was quiet. But unlike the usual, comfortable quiet, it was torturous.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I stared at him, letting the silent communication denote the fact that I knew he was lying to me. Spencer released a sigh and looked at me with eyes more intoxicating than any whiskey that shared their color.

“Actually, no, I’m not okay.”

I was going to ask him what was wrong or if there was anything I could do to help, but before I had the chance to do so, he hastily answered the question I hadn’t asked.

“Max and I broke up.”

I stared at him, my face and mind blank as I tried to comprehend what he’d said. That Max and Spencer broke up. They were no longer together. Spencer was single.

I thought that if this ever happened, I would be happy, elated, jumping at the chance to take her place by his side. But I felt none of those things.

“What happened?” I didn’t want to appear nosy or meddlesome, but I needed to know.

“We were fighting a lot, and I couldn’t take it.”

“Oh.”

“We were… actually fighting about you.”

I sharply turned my head at him, both intrigued and disturbed by the implication that I had anything to do with the failure of their relationship.

“What? What about me?”

“She thought I liked you,” he said while staring straight back at me, daring me to scan through each fleck of gold and green to ensure that he was telling the truth. But his hazel eyes expressed nothing but honesty as he continued, “and she was right. I do.”

“Y-you do?”

All he could do was nod his head, lifting his hand and catching a loose strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear.

“Can I try something?” Spencer shyly requested.

Once again, the universe felt different. I held my breath, trying to wake from the dream. Although he didn’t say it, I had an idea of what he wanted. If the hand on the side of my face and the staring at my lips were anything to go by, I knew what was going to happen next.

I nodded back and closed my eyes. A few seconds passed, the sweetest kind of anticipation. But then I felt the gentle pressure of his lips against my own, sweet and tender. He moved his head to get a better angle while I brought my hands up to cup his face. The roughness of his stubble against the tip of my fingers was a perfect contrast to the softness of him. I could taste the soda he was drinking on his tongue and breathed in the cinnamon scent that seemed sunken into his skin.

When we pulled away, it was full of hesitation. All it took was one look for us to know we couldn’t do this. Not now, not yet. He was still healing from the recent break up and I didn’t want to be a rebound. I didn’t want us to resent one another for jumping into a relationship so soon. We weren’t ready.

We sat there in relative silence, taking in everything that has happened.

“Maybe one day,” he paused “one day we can give it a chance.”

“Yes. I’d like that.” I beamed at him, “And I look forward to that day. Until then, we remain as friends.”

He returned my smile and I realized that it had been a while since I’ve seen his real smile. I missed it so much.

“Friends,” he confirmed.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt relief and comfort. Because I knew everything was going to be okay. I had hope that someday Spencer will get the happily ever after he deserves and he’ll get it with me by his side. One day.

[jaysbestie]

ahshshdhsh this is my first time using the ask function in this app and i might as well take this as an opportunity. can you please write about jakey being a hopeless romantic (kinda like f2l thing) wherein they're also classmates and y/n is oblivious af? it would be very much appreciated, thank you~

hi this is a vERY late, I don't know if this is similarto what you wanted, I'm so sorry, but I hope you like it!!

Hoops and Love Letters

pairing ; f2l! basketball player! jake x gn reader

genre ; fluff

warnings ; food

summary ; jake, your best friend since you were children has started making your heart beat fast, little do you know, his is beating just as fast...

"yo jake!"

you were sitting on one of the park's benches with your best friend while eating strawberry flavored ice cream he got for you, when you heard someone call your best friend's name.

"jake!"

it was louder this time, meaning the person calling him was coming closer. Suddenly one of jake's friends, sunghoon, came into view trying to catch his breath while he sat down on the bench between you.

well now that was awkward.

he looked between you two, clueless to the situation you were in and asked,

"did I interrupt anything?"

he asked and to that question, your cheeks reddened as you turned to look at jake, noticing how his cheeks were also light crimson as he opened his mouth to answer his friend's question

"n-no you sure didn't" jake stammered. but jake never stammers?? and you just stood there, a little sad that jake answered sunghoon's question negatively and you just stood there, taken aback by jake's answer and by his stammering.

"it doesn't seem like it tho, anyways, heesung needs you in practice, jay was late and he almost got yelled at" sunghoon started talking without getting a breath, almost as if he was rapping.

you searched jake's face for a reaction and he didn't even look surprised by ths situation going on at the school's gym.

"well, y/n, I'll have to go, sadly, however, ill try to return you your book on saturday on our picnic!" he told you while he got his school bag, from the bench you sat on every day after school, and started walking behind sunghoon to the gym.

"I'll be waiting for my book!" you yelled and screamed, happy that he remembered the poetry book he borrowed from you, two weeks ago. you see, your and jake's bond was something unbreakable, being friends and classmates from a very young age and being lucky enough to be able to continue this friendship till now. you started packing your bag and put the cup from the ice cream in the park's trashcan while going to your house. there really wasn't anyone at home however you prepared your table fully and made yourself lunch. you sat down trying to find a boring enough movie so that you'll be motivated to stop watching it and study or catch a nap.

————————��timeskip♡———————

it was now 7pm on a friday afternoon and you were currently doing your homework so that you didn't have to do them during the weekend, when your computer started alarming you that there was an incoming skype call by jake. it made you instantly smile and you answered his call watching his face brighten once he saw you had picked up.

"hey"

"hi"

"are you doing homework on a friday night?" he asked, while he looked at me as if I was a weird creature.

"yeah, I don't understand your opposition on me doing my homework on a friday night" you said, the fake offended look on your face made jake laugh and that moment it was like you heard an angel laugh.

"have you prepared anything for our picnic tomorrow?"

oh shIT

you panicked

"I swear to god, y/n y/l/n, did you forget about one of the most important days of the month?" it was his turn to act offended now taking a dramatic pose acting as if he was crying.

you were about to start crying because, hoW. COULD. YOU. FORGET. YOUR PICNIC?!?!

"oH HELL NOH, how could I forget our picnic?!" you stated nervously hoping that he didn't notice the panic on your face when he mentioned the picnic.

"great, I was hoping you remembered about it because, well,,, tomorrow's picnic will be extra special, than just a day on the calendar" he said, he seemed nervous and by his sentence you became nervous too, hoping that something joyful will be behind this "extra special picnic"

"YO Y/N YOU THERE?" he yelled and then proceeded to slap his laptop's screen, just to make sure his computer wasn't the problematical one.

"yeah sorry, my laptop started glitching, see you tomorrow at the park!" you yelled at him and ended the call in a hurry.

you sat up from your desk's chair and walked in front of your mirror

"I now have to go down and prepare for tomorrow's picnic" you said to try and convince yourself to go down and prepare however your plan was interrupted when your phone rang, the name of your other best friend lighting up the screen.

"YANG JUNGWON YOU LITTLE MONSTER" you screamed as you picked up the phone.

" yo y/n what is your proBLEM?!"

"YOU OBVIOUSLY"

"what did I do this time bestie, explain to me please"

"well I was about to go prepare for my monthly picnic with jake but you decided that it was a good idea to call me".

"oooh, jake, the guy that likes you but doesn't know how to tell you"

"plEASE, he doesn't like me, we've been friends for a couple years and he sees me as a good friend"

"ok but like, since yOU like him, why don't you speak to him about it?"

at this point you are heading to the kitchen in order to get ready for tomorrow, since hanging up on jungwon wouldn't happen soon.

"if I tell him I might ruin our friendship, won"

"he likes you too tho, even sunghoon noticed!"

"since when do you hang out with sunghoon?"

"since you were too busy going on dates with jake"

"please, we had study meetings"

"yeah call it whatever you want love"

you tried to respond to jungwon but nothing came out of your mouth so jungwon continued,

"anyways, I'm hanging up so you can prepare for your picnic, by the way, wear those brown corduroy pants I got you for your birthday!!"

"yeah fine, I'll make sure to fill you in on what happened won, good night!"

"night y/n!"

with that you went to prepare some quick snacks for tomorrow and also got some of your favorite jellies from a seven eleven nearby, all because they were also jake's favorite jellies.

———————♡timeskip #2♡———————

you woke up by the sudden sound of your alarm, you didn't even remember setting an alarm but you find have time to worry about stuff like this as you wanted to get up and get ready quickly for the picnic.

your phone rang and jake's number lit up your phone's screen.

"yo jake, bro, homie, fella, how you doin" that was the weirdest thing you've ever, like eVER, said in your life.

"Y/N Y/L/N ARE YOU DRUNK THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING?!"

"of course no jakey, it's 11:29 am, the picnic is in two hours "

" uh uh uh- special picnic" jake emphasized special once again.

" oh well, guess I'll take more time to get ready since its spEcial" you said, mimicking the way he said special.

" I swear to our friendship, y/n, if you're not ready by the time I come to pick you up, consider yourself not my friend" he said sarcastically, adding a laugh at the middle of his sentence.

"oh well, it's your lucky day because I have just started getting ready!" you lied, you walked to your dresser and started searching for that one pair of brown corduroy pants jungwon suggested you wear.

"I'm hanging up jake, gotta go get ready, see you at 1 outside my house!" you hung up without giving him a chance to reply.

bingo

you finally found the pants, searching for a shirt now. you found a white blouse you had got last Halloween for a pirate costume but never wore it. It didn't look like a costume shirt anyway, you shrugged and got into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready afterwards.

You were done with your shower now, the time was 12 pm and you had an hour left before jake got to your place to pick you up.

You put on your clothes and matched a pearl necklace (which was, indeed, a gift by jake) with your outfit, you opted for some classic black converse high tops as for the shoe choice, and with that, your outfit was complete.

You headed downstairs to prepare your basket, full with snacks and fizzy drinks, also getting a light blanket with you, just in case.

You heard a car honk from outside and checked the time, it was 12 : 40, twenty minutes before jake should be here to pick you up. The same honking sound was heard again and you headed to the door to see if it was jake by any chance. It was jake indeed, you got your basket, your keys, sprayed some perfume on and left the house, not forgetting to lock the door behind you.

"well hello there, y/n"

you were ready to tell general kenobi literally at his face, the pun must've been intended as you had a star wars movie marathon some days ago.

"hello to you too, jakey"

You both got in the car and jake turned the music up, a song unknown to you playing on the radio. Jake seemed different today, he seemed nervous, something unusual to him.

"is everything okay jake?"

"yeah why?" he responded while he let out a small laugh.

"oh, nothing!"

The drive went by quickly, however jake had taken you to a place you thought you'd never see again, it was the place where you and jake had first met. A park filled with bushes and sunflowers, huge trees and benches along with wooden tables. You were on the verge of tears, left speechless, you opened the car's door, taking your basket and started running around the park laughing loudly. You were feeling truly happy.

Jake was watching from inside the car, deciding to open his door too, taking his own basket, locking the car and started running towards you.

After running around for some good minutes, you sat on bench and left your baskets on a wooden table, starting to set your food in order for your picnic to start.

You had started eating your second sandwich when jake interrupted you, making you put your sandwich down and turning your attention to him.

"yo y/n, do you remember those love letters you kept on receiving last year?"

"of course I do! I've been searching till this day! but what does that have to with our special picnic?"

"well, I'm the one who sent those letters" jake said, lowering his head and starting to fiddle with his hands.

"well, that was a good one!" you started laughing. Noticing the situation jake was in right now, it only meant one thing, "WAit, you're not joking?"

"not really" he said giggling sadly, lifting his stare and watching into your eyes. You extended your arms and reached out to hug him.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"wait, you really didn't know I liked you? The boys kept on telling that my crush on you was too obvious!" he said, looking annoyed by his friends that moment.

"I mean, you did throw a basket ball at me once that had, "let me take you out" all over it but I didn't think you meant thAT TAKING OUT" you said, laughing at the old memory you had remembered.

well, y/n, would you officially allow me to take you out?" he asked, a glowing happy slice on his face when he noticed your emotionless face, "on A DATE, I mean, not with a basket ball!" he added. With that, you burst into laughter and looked at him, showing him your brightest smile.

"of course I'll let you take me out, on a date, jake"

[reinersbb]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Five- Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy PT.1

Chapter Five Part One of Forget

Orange, black, and purple plastic solo cups littered the dewy grass along with other miscellaneous speckles of trash- some cups still retaining remnants of alcohol. Only ten o'clock at night and there was already a headache of a cleanup worth of mess outside on the front lawn. There was no telling how much worse it would be on the inside where the heart and soul of the party was. But it's not like after-party cleanup would be your problem to deal with.

Carved jack-o-lanterns that were once originally placed along the long walkway leading up to the front door of the frat house were smashed and overturned. Stringy pumpkin guts and seeds clung to the porous pavement of the walkway, some of the pumpkin innards in the grass. A collection of large oak trees in the front lawn were decorated with ominous purple lights. The flickering light cascaded across the grass, bouncing off the glass of littered alcohol bottles.

As you transitioned onto the property from the bustling street of roaming party-goers from different frat homes all around, the music and shouts from within the home ahead of you seemed almost loud enough to shatter its' windows. The base of your heels clicked against the pavement out of excitement as you trailed up the property.

A gust of wind hit your overly exposed flesh, and a chill of excitement tickled your vertebrae. While you were pulling the silk robe you wore over your body to cover yourself, short wolf-whistles from a group of drunk party-goers who'd barely managed to stand up straight caught your attention. The intoxicated faces that wore skewed face paint waved to you, catcalling you, wanting nothing else but your attention, but, you ignored them and continued onto the covered porch. Anywhere away from the blabbering drunk so-and-so's who were floundering in the lawn is a place where you wanted to be.

The front door that belonged to the home was left completely open, and you couldn't tell if the people passing through were coming or going. But you pushed your way through and sure enough, you were finally inside and one with the chaos that was the Halloween party. You already knew that this party was more hectic than the last one you attended.

Spirits were high, and the energy emitting from the room you now stood in practically zapped you.

One look alone at the hoard of people around you had you wishing that you would've at least asked Ymir to cancel her late-night movie date with Historia so they could follow along with you tonight instead. You weren't sure if you could handle a party like this all by yourself.

Managing to shuffle away from the front door, you stood aside and reached for your phone that you'd been holding in your small purse. Taking a quick look around at all the flashy details of costumes, your eyes dug down at your phone screen.

Today 22:46 Hey Jean, I'm here...

Though it wasn't out of spite or pettiness, a handful of hours is how long you left Jean's messages on seen. You decided earlier in the day to take it upon yourself and show up and surprise him with your arrival instead of messaging beforehand so that way he wouldn't expect a thing.

After your message was sent, all you had to do was find Jean. Or he had to find you. Seemed simple enough, but with one look at the crowd, you knew it wouldn't be such an easy task to tackle. Even if Jean was nearby, how would you be able to pick him out of the crowd?

There were many, and if not all, people wearing costumes. Even if by chance you were to know tons of people, they'd be hardly recognizable to you. So trying to catch a face would be worthless.

A singular buzz from your phone had you checking your lock-screen within an instant. Sure enough, it was a response from Jean.

Jean: Where are you?

Just as you were about to start at your reply, the chat bubble from the receiving end disrupted you. But as you watched and waited, the chat bubbles disappeared without any further sign of reappearing.

Then somehow you heard Jean's voice shouting your name over the crowd.

But where?

You couldn't help but look like a maniac as you scanned your surroundings. You were trying to recall which direction you heard his tenor voice last when suddenly two large hands skewed your vision. Instantaneously your hands went flying upward, dropping your phone mid-process as you felt at his wrists as he stood close behind you.

You yelped a response, "Jean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jean's hands lowered from your face, allowing you to see clearly once again. "Let me get that," you watched as his hand reached for your phone that was on the ground.

Jean fell into your line of sight as you turned on your heel to face him. Both of you went wide-eyed as both of you took each other in, examining each other's costume. Your phone that was now dangling at his fingertips was almost dropped for a second time out of Jean's surprise.

"Are you... a cowboy?" You managed to make the first remark.

Covering Jeans' head was a worn chocolate brown cowboy hat, along with a matching colored mid-thigh coat. His hair was tucked under the hat, only the ends of his hair billowing out. Though like always, the black studded earrings were still imprinted in both his earlobes. A red paisley bandana covered up the neck of his button-up shirt. Dark faded blue jeans covered his long legs and a large belt buckle hung at his hips. The cuffs of his jeans swamped worn down brown pointed boots. His cheeks seemed to be more defined while somehow his facial hair seemed to be darkened and unruly.

His ruggedness was hot.

Jean cleared his throat before attempting to speak with his best cowboy impressions, "you betcha', cowgirl." Jean paused for a beat, mainly to gather his words, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming you're dressed as a playboy bunny?"

"Bingo. How do you like my costume? Historia and Ymir helped me come up with the idea."

Promptly, you corrected your bunny ears that'd been pushed out of place from his surprise attack. Jean silently raked your appearance in from head to toe, his tongue caught on his lip as if he were about to say something but he hesitated, almost like he was nervous. Even if he was nervous, he most certainly wouldn't let you know that.

Eventually, he gulped, and through his parted lips he spoke, "I- I like it, your costume puts mine to shame. Also, I think the colors red and black suit you well."

If it weren't for the off-put lighting of different color hues, you would've been able to notice the radiating peach glow on his cheeks.

"Thanks, your cowboy costume isn't so bad either," you teased, tipping the front of his hat down over his brow line. "That's payback for making me drop my phone."

Jean chuckled, lifting the hat from his head, allowing the locks of his hair to fall across his forehead aimlessly. His long fingers ran through his hair, pushing his amber strands back before setting the cowboy hat back on his head.

After the quick readjustment, Jean's eyes were on you, "by the way, thanks for showing up tonight."

"Oh, it's no big deal," you admitted when in reality you'd spent hours getting ready, regardless of how nonchalant you'd made your previous statement out to be.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to look good tonight since you knew Jean would be at the party. You didn't care about the technicalities or the thoughts and ideas people would make of you from your attire alone.  But you wouldn't admit it.

You were uncertain for how long you had been staring at Jean for, that and you were also uncertain of close the two of you were standing next to each other until you were randomly pushed from behind by a passerby. Jean of course caught ahold of you as you went stumbling forward. Jean helped stabilize your footing by holding onto your arms.

There was a scowl on his face as he stared off into the crowd, searching for the person who carelessly bumped into you. The disgruntled look on his face was hardly noticeable if you weren't paying enough attention, but sure enough, there was a scowl on his face.

"Are you okay?" Jean's eyes were back on you, "they didn't even stop to apologize to you."

"It's alright, Jean, it's not like I got hurt or anything, and they're probably too drunk to function."

"You know you're probably right," even though it seemed like he didn't want to give up that easily, Jean carefully took ahold of your wrist, "will you follow me?"

You attempted to speak over the blaring background noise, "okay, where are we going?"

Jean turned his head back for only a second so he could respond as he began to walk, "you'll see."

The next room the two of you entered wasn't as packed as the entrance of the house, but still as lively. A table with solo cups at either side was folded out and there were two teams tossing ping pong balls back and forth, taking a drink from the orange solo cups when directed. A hoard of people surrounded the table, but you managed to get a vision of the action.

"Beer pong?" You talked over the commotion, taking a glance at Jean before back at the table.

"Have you ever played before?"

"Back in high school, I've played a handful of times but I completely sucked at the game. I haven't won, not even a single time."

"Let's see if your luck has changed any and see if we can break that losing streak of yours," Jean finally released your wrist to go talk to a man who'd been standing near the game table.

The unknown man was dressed in black pants and a white and black striped shirt, like one of those burglars you see in children's cartoons. Under a black beanie, he had blond hair and was built, his well-toned muscles were flexed as his arms wrapped around his chest while talking with Jean. Next to the blond was a much taller man, who was even taller than Jean by at least two to three inches, who wore a similar costume as the blond.

"Hey! Are you a friend of Jean?" An alto-toned voice called out from your right as you felt a knuckle tap on your shoulder.

A tall man with a freckle-kissed face and chocolate brown eyes beamed at you, his expression was laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His hair was parted and styled like a man from the eighties, and he wore a red puffer jacket over a denim jacket. Instantly you thought he was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future.

"I guess you could say that, yes," you said, unsure if a straight yes or no would be correct.

"Okay, cool! I'm Marco, Jean's best friend. I haven't seen you around before, where did you guys meet?"

"I met him through my mutuals at a party last Saturday-" you paused for a beat, remembering the first actual encounter you had with Jean. "Actually, the first time I ever met him is when I quite literally ran into him. It was horrible, I spilled my latte and everything."

You'd have Jean pay you back for that latte one day, even if you were the one that barged into him. And that was a promise.

Just then, those chocolate brown eyes of his flashed for a split second. His thick eyebrows rose and fell and the corners of his lips struggled to keep from lifting into a knowing smirk.

"Before I forget to ask, what is your name?"

Whenever you told Marco your name, his eyes darted over towards Jean's direction then back at you. There was a weird expression on his face that you couldn't put your finger on, it almost seemed like he knew something that you didn't.

Your eyebrow lifted, "what's the matter, Marco?"

"Marco!" Jean finally reappeared from the beer pong table, almost standing in between you and Marco.

Jean glanced at you and back to Marco.

"Wait, what were you two talking about?" Jean shifted towards you slightly, a shadow falling across his brow from the cowboy hat he was wearing.

His defensive side caused suspicion to arise inside of you. Had he been hiding something from you?

"We-"

You'd attempted to speak, but Marco beat you to it, "nothing, Jean, I was just introducing myself to your friend."

Jean stared at Marco for a few seconds, like he was carefully reading the man with chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer, almost like an explosion from the table. Then there was a harsh whistle that zipped through the other commotion which caught Jean's attention entirely.

"Jean! Come on, you're up against me and Bert," the same man that Jean was talking to previously informed.

"Come on," Jean motioned for you to follow him, "let's get you that win."

Across from you stood the same two men who Jean had been talking to previously. Apparently, the blond's name was Reiner and the other went by Bert, or Berty, however, the blond cooed. While Marco stood off to the side of both you and Jean, loaning you his friendly support and cheering both of you on.

As the game commenced, Jean stood close beside you the whole time, giving you a few tips and tricks here and there to help sink the ball. You noted how nice it felt when he held onto your wrist one time to imitate a fake swish. Or how nice it felt when you actually sunk a ball into a cup and Jean would congratulate you by pulling your body against him into a side hug.

You felt at the top of the world, soaring all high and mighty. There was a slight buzz kicking in already from the cups of beer you had to drink, and Jean even decided to help you out with most of them by downing the liquid. He'd pluck the cup up from the table, and before dipping his head back, he'd glance at you with a knowing look with his intense eyes over the brim of the cup.

Your fingers accidentally laced with his momentarily as you high-fived one another after Jean scored your team another point. Soon after your mini celebration was cut short, Jean rolled his eyes whenever Reiner's ball bounced into your team's orange cup. Reluctantly his slender fingers grasped the brittle material and downed the beer.

With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth, "we just need to score the last cup," Jean placed a hand on your shoulder, his excited eyes staring into yours.

"What if I mess up?" You kept your eyes only on Jean.

"You won't."

With that, you sucked a breath in through your nose and exhaled steadily. The music was continuously bumping in the background while you rinsed off your ball in the discard cup. Your chest was thumping, and there was a ringing sensation beginning to sound.

The game was currently tied up. One to one. Reiner and Bert stood adjacent to you and Jean. Both men waved their hands in front of the cup as you aimed for the center.

Once the ball was tossed and in mid-air after its' first bounce, their hands ripped away, and almost as if it were playing in slow motion, the ball landed in the cup. The contents sloshing around slightly on impact as your ball sank into the depths of the plastic. Reiner sighed and plucked the ball out and drank the beer from the remaining cup you happened to score.

An eruption of emotions spilled out of you and everyone else around you. To your surprise, you felt Jean ease his arms around you, swiftly lifting you and spinning you in a victory hug. Naturally, you melted into Jean's touch as he held you up from the ground.

"We did it, Jean! Thank you so much for believing in me."

"It's no problem, I knew that you could do it, but I do enjoy the praise."

If it weren't for Eren walking up and interrupting both of you, the moment of celebration with Jean would've lasted much longer.

You would've preferred that outcome.

"Jean, Marco," A slap on Jeans' shoulder came from Eren, "I've been looking for you two and everyone else, Porco wants us downstairs," Eren was practically already shit-faced.

When Eren's shiny emerald eyes caught ahold of yours, he stopped to smile and greet you. He couldn't believe that he'd overlooked you for that short moment.

"You- a playboy bunny? Damn, if I would've known you'd come dressed as that I would've come dressed as Hugh Hefner," Eren held a bottle pointed at you as he took your appearance in, "don't be a stranger, you should join us downstairs."

"Now, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's okay, Jean," you reassured the tall figure, "it sounds like it will be fun."

Your heels clapped against the hard flooring after stepping away from Jean who finally let you back onto the ground. Instead of walking with Jean, you stayed behind him as he walked with Marco, and Eren was already way ahead of the two men. You enjoyed watching Jean and Marco converse from behind, and also you noticed how lively they seemed to be when talking to each other.

Much to your Amusement, you immediately noticed out of the crowd of people in the basement that both Connie and Sasha were wearing matching crayon costumes. Connie was the color green and Sasha was yellow.

"Over here, you guys!" Connie practically fell over his own feet as he grabbed your small group's attention.

Though, another face, another painstakingly familiar face caught your attention.

'Why the hell is he here?'

Floch never showed up to parties, so why now of all times?

You stilled in your tracks, unsure of what to do. Do you approach the group and be awkward because of your ex-boyfriend? Or do you stop, turn around, and head back out instantly without another word spoken?

You noticed when Jean turned his head over his shoulder to look back at you, almost like he somehow noticed or felt a shift in the atmosphere around your group. His lips turned from a crooked smirk from talking to Marco into a slight frown as he gazed at you. Jean paused from marching alongside Marco to glide back and meet up with you.

Naturally, Marco turned on his heel to question what was up and why both of you stopped following, and all Jean did was encourage him to carry on and that the two of you would only take a second.

You appreciated Jean's concerns, but you didn't know what to say to him, what could you possibly say to him without making him uncomfortable?

"What's wrong?" Jean asked as he finally approached you.

"He," your eyes found comfort by staring at the ground you were standing on, "he's here."

"What do you mean?" Jean looked around momentarily before looking back at you, "who's here?"

There wasn't much time to waste, not if you wanted to make your conflicting emotions noticeable to the others who were waiting for all four of you to join them. You definitely didn't want Floch to notice how bothered you were by his presence.

What was he doing here anyway? He never was the one to attend parties, he even said so himself.

"My ex-boyfriend," you spoke dryly, almost unable to be heard if Jean weren't listening well enough.

Without another word spoken, you lifted your head, Jean took the cue to follow your eyes where Floch was seated. You watched as the redhead enjoyed a beverage from his orange cup, laughing at something with a man with short brown hair, whom you didn't recognize.

"Who? That guy is your ex?" Jean asked, paying close attention to you while gesturing towards Floch.

"Yeah, the redhead, I didn't think he'd be here tonight," you exhaled an uneasy breath of air, "he was never the one for parties. God, I don't want him to ruin my night, I've been having so much fun and-"

"So then don't let him ruin your night," Jean took ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, "I have an idea."

Your eyes flashed with excitement at the hand-to-hand contact with Jean, "what's your idea?"

Jean's stern eyes softened for a split second, almost like he were telling you to trust him. Without any debate on the matter, you swallowed your nerves and squeezed Jean's fingers with your own, embracing the comforting heat of his palm on yours. You could only notice how relaxed your hand was in his, the feeling was familiar and soothing, something you could get used to if given the chance.

"Hey guys," Jean spoke to the large friend group, taking a seat beside Marco on the couch.

The group of people was much larger this time around. You recognized some faces from previous encounters at the last party, while some faces you hadn't seen before, and some were completely unrecognizable due to their costumes. More people were standing idly by away from your group talking to one another, some were dancing, and there were others preoccupied at the wet bar. You noticed that there was a small group huddled around a pool table, but decided to_ ignore_ the pool table.

Without anywhere else to sit due to limited space around, you hesitated briefly until Jean pulled you onto his lap. With a squeal, you adjusted yourself, crossing your legs quaintly as you delicately sat on his lap. This whole time from holding hands with Jean till now you've avoided looking towards the direction Floch was sitting in, but you noticed that his lips had gone still, and movement of his had ceased.

Maybe he was jealous by seeing you and Jean together, hand in hand. But that was a good thing, right?

Jean's large palm draped on your hip delicately, no, hesitantly, almost like he was unsure to touch you. His palm hovered across the material of your silk robe, feeling the intricate indentations of the more risqué undergarments underneath. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by the way he was holding onto you, all he could do was hope you wouldn't mind. But, considering your past encounter with Jean, he thought something so simple as having his hand placed on your hip didn't match up to the extremity of the last personal encounter you two shared.

Connie and Sasha struck up a conversation with you as soon as you were comfortably seated. Jean and Marco casually joined in on the conversation and all five of you sat talking amongst yourselves out of the group of well over a dozen.

There were the occasional cut-ins from Eren or the blond whose name was Armin that you'd seen from yesterday, but you didn't mind. There was also a man who was named Niccolo that appeared from upstairs who joined in, he brought two beers with him and wiggled his way to sit in between Sasha and Connie, mostly leaning into Sasha though as he gave her one of the beverages he'd been holding. The more the merrier you thought.

As long as it wasn't Floch joining in, you didn't mind.

The conversation was cut to a halt when a man with dirty blond hair that was slicked back cleared his throat to speak. The blond wore a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans covering his legs. Sitting next to him was another male who wore a similar matching costume, sans jacket and his hair was only a little messier than the blonds, with his hair falling out of place but still kept back. They looked to be dressed like a character out of the book _The Outsiders, _like greasers.

"How about we all play a little game?"

"What kind of game, Pock?" A woman with thick black hair asked, her arm lazily dragged across the man's shoulder as she tipped her head out of curiosity.

"Pieck, I told you to stop calling me that," the blond seemed to be easily frustrated by the single comment.

Which only resulted in a soft laugh from Pieck, "alrighty then, Porco."

The irritate state seemed to blow over quickly, and Porco now was back on track with his original train of thought, "anyways, I was thinking of..." Porco glanced around the vast group for a moment, "a little game of truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare? Don't you think that's a little middle schoolish, baby brother?" The man sitting beside him with brown hair asked playfully, visibly striking a nerve in Porco.

"Shut up," Porco hissed at his brother, "it's my party, so I get the say in what we do, so if _you _don't like it, Marcel, then you can leave. It's as easy as that," Porco pulled a bottle of bud light to his lips before tipping his head back to take a drink. "And that goes for everyone else too, if you don't like it, then leave."

Though, with the invitation to leave if warranted, no one got up from their seat. And you could tell that Jean hadn't even considered the option of leaving since he made no effort to move, and neither did you. But, naturally, you turned your head over your shoulder just to ask him and make sure. What you didn't anticipate was the proximity that both of your faces would be to each other once you turned to look back at him.

You stilled on Jean's lap, the breath you sucked in practically caught in your throat at his closeness, "Jean," you almost asked in a hushed tone, "do you want to play?"

"Of course," his smile disappeared briefly, but not because he was unhappy, "I mean unless you don't then we can go somewhere-"

"No," you smiled, aimlessly turning back to face the crowd as you'd once been, "I'd like to play, all I need is a drink to start the pace," you admitted, eyes falling onto Floch after turning back forward.

————————

"You have to do the dare, Bert," the man from the opposing team you played against earlier, who you now knew as Reiner, spoke out, encouraging his tall friend and the girl he was with.

Currently, Bertholdt was to take a body shot off of the girl's stomach. The poor boy was flustered out of his mind, his tan cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he leaned towards the girl. Bert dipped down to her naval, sucking out the alcohol from her belly button. Whistles and cheers sounded out from the crowd when Bert pulled his face back, downing the shot of booze.

"Atta champ," Reiner slapped Bertholdt on his back, causing Bert to cough up a sputter on the alcohol that lingered in his throat.

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulder over his mouth, eliminating any residual of alcohol on his lips.

Currently, you were a few turns in of a modified version of truth or dare. But instead of truths, there were only dares, or you had to take a drink for bailing. The game and its' rules reminded you of the spin-the-bottle game you played last Saturday.

"Drink or dare," you scanned across the crowd, thinking of a victim to pick, "Sasha."

"Dare, obviously," she elbowed Connie in the rib playfully, waiting to hear the poison you picked for her.

A mischievous grin developed on your eager lips, you had just the dare in mind for Sasha.

"I dare you to go lock yourself in a room with Niccolo for ten minutes," you pointed to a room just a few feet away from your group.

Niccolo sputtered out of embarrassment, he was surprised that you'd dare Sasha to do something like that. But Sasha, she wasn't the one to complain over a dare. So, she hopped up on her feet and waited for Niccolo to follow.

Though you only crafted this dare mostly as a joke, you knew well that this dare would also help the two jump-start their relationship in the right direction. You came to that conclusion solely by observing how the two had been interacting with each other so far.

Niccolo seemed to be interested in Sasha but, of course, was hesitant, while Sasha on the other hand was oblivious to Niccolo's advances.

Before Sasha entered the nearby room, she shot you a glance, a glance that could read 'you'll pay for this later.'

After receiving quick congratulatory praise from Eren and Connie due to daring Sasha and Niccolo to do such a thing, both men signaled to Jean that it was now his turn to dare someone.

"Who's it going to be, Jean?" pulling your chin back over your shoulder, you stopped to look at the man you were sitting on.

His fingers that were slack against you suddenly gripped your body slightly. Jean's index finger vaguely tapped against you where he held onto, before combing all fingertips against your flesh in a soothing manner.

Without a second glance around the room, Jean spoke with his head slightly tilted, his eyes on and only on you, "I dare you to kiss me."

[touyota]

Catfish

☁ Summary: Tomura is hopeless when it comes to relationships, and soon that’s all subject to change. With the power of Tinder, Touya and one oblivious chick on his side, who knows what can happen. 

A/N: omgggg, i’ve lurked on my priv for the past year and finally decided to stop being a narc and post something. i haven’t written in forever and it shows lmao, but uh yeah pls give me feedback if you’d like. (also idk if this has been. done before, but sorryyy if it has)

☁ Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

☁ Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, manipulation, dumbfication (if you squint), slapping, yandere, catfishing 

"Fuck I'm horny." 

Tomura groaned into his pillow, conflicted with whether he should be agitated or turned on. Due to his third nap of the day being interrupted by the excessive lewd noises coming from the shared living room. Tomura's roommate, Touya, had no real understanding of boundaries and was often more bothersome than helpful. Still, without his portion of the rent, he'd be on the streets struggling to find an apartment within his meager budget.

"Keep fucking me, Touya-san!" The plea echoed through the thin walls of the shoddy apartment. At least someone was getting laid. The last time Tomura had gotten lucky was at an impromptu Halloween party thrown by Touya at the apartment. 

He went as Jason Vorhees using a dingy hockey mask he found in Touya's closet. The poor girl in question, who came dressed as an angel, was drunk out of her mind. She clung to Tomura's scrawny body incoherently, slurring about "How hot it would be to fuck a murderer." The fling hadn't lasted long before the young lady in question toppled over the side of his bed and hurled her entire cup of jungle juice onto the floor. Poor Tomura had to spend his night nursing her head over the toilet. Making a mental note to tell Touya that he couldn't invite any freshmen to their parties ever again.

Tomura ended up seeing her again in passing on campus, giving a small smile as she walked by. Only to be met with an eye roll as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. Fucking bitch... Other than that, Tomura had found himself too busy writing code, playing video games, and browsing Reddit to dedicate any time to dating. The polar opposite of his roomie Touya-san, a communications major whose schedule consisted of dating? If you considered fucking the same chick for a week before ghosting her dating, sleeping, and eating and drinking Tomura out of a house and home.

"You ready for my load? You're my little cum dump, right? Say you're my cum du-"

Speaking of fucking, Tomura's hard-on was starting to hurt, and what better way to relieve himself than to beat off to the action in the adjacent room. 

He started to palm himself over his sweats, erection already beginning to poke through. Figuring that he's teased himself enough, he lowered his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach, throbbing and angry. He slowly stroked himself, gathering the pre-cum spouting from the tip, and used it to lube the rest of his cock.

"Pleaseee fuck! I'm your little cum dump! I swear Touya!" 

Tomura started to stroke his cock faster, leaving a squelching noise with each stroke. He was barely managing to suppress his moans. Knowing how Touya wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he got caught fucking his hand to the sounds of their subtle lovemaking. 

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming!" Touya grunted, giving out after his final stroke.

Tomura followed suit, flicking his wrist with each stroke. As his orgasm finally took hold of him, biting into his shirt to stifle his moan as he came all over his fist. 

"Are you fucking serious, Touya?"

"What?" 

"I didn't get to cum?"

"Um… I'm sure you can take care of that when you get home."

"You're such a piece of sh-"

Tomura tuned out the rest of his roommate's performance. Really hoping he'd wrap it up cause he really needed to take a piss and couldn't make it to the bathroom without passing through the living room. 

After hearing a respectable amount of silence, he figured it was safe to leave the room. Of course, he was wrong; he was met with a staredown between Touya and a petite blonde woman.

"I'm sure your roommate Tenko wouldn't leave a lady hanging like that."

"It's Tomura," he muttered.

"Same fucking thing, my point still stands," The mystery woman huffed. There was a pregnant pause before Touya doubled over in laughter, clutching his chest.

"You think this cuck knows how to take care of a lady? Yeah, it's time to go, Tara."

"It's Toga, you shit stai-"her statement was abruptly interrupted, the door slamming in her face. Touya's back slid down against the door as he sat facing Tomura. 

"Chicks? Am I right?" Touya sighed, peering over at Tomura, who had just left the bathroom. "Speaking of chicks, when's the last time you had sex, Shiggy?"

"It's been... a while." Tomura shrugged, not wanting to indulge his roommate with the details of his sex life.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's make you a Tinder." Touya proudly announced, excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker for his roommate. Tomura reluctantly gave in, knowing once Touya was set on something, it was bound to happen one way or another. 

Two blunts later, Tomura and Touya were strewn over the couch, mulling over his profile's final details. It consisted of three pics, one from the Halloween party, another from their most recent function. The last pic is a selfie of him in a black hoodie with sunglasses on. The icing on top is the bio that unironically stated, "Freak in the sheets, gamer in the streets."

"You're gonna be a real pussy magnet shiggy. Just wait, you'll have to fight the chicks off with a stick after they see this." Touya chuckled as he took another puff of the blunt.

"Go to hell and stop hogging; you didn't put shit in on this anyways," Tomura muttered as he snatched the blunt away to take a pull. Maybe he would find some success, he entertained the concept of having a consistent fuck buddy, but sometimes he was lonely and just wanted someone to lay up with. He wanted to be optimistic about something for once, taking his final pull and ashing the blunt out. The smoky haze and intoxicating scent lulling him to sleep. 

Fuck optimism, Tomura thought. It had been three days with zero matches or messages, and he was starting to think there had to be a glitch in the system. The only time he had seen a match is when he accidentally swiped on Midnight's profile, a famous Only fans content creator who specialized in BDSM. The same Midnight that he happened to be a top donor for and occasionally bought panties from, but that's beside the point. The profile was poorly made with blurry, uncropped pics taken straight from her social media profiles. The lack of detail and legitimacy was apparent. Tomura felt terrible for the poor soul who probably fell for it, but it made him think… 

Why not see how different the response would be if he ran a profile under someone else's guise.  Someone more attractive, someone more affluent, and someone more famous. This was simply a social experiment; no harm would come from it of course. He would simply ghost anyone who wanted to meet, keeping all interactions virtual. Now who could he possibly pretend to be. without getting caught. Tomura's eyes finally settled on an Axe ad playing on tv featuring male model Keigo Takami. Mr. tall, blonde, and handsome would definitely attract the feminine masses.  

Ding ding ding, it was like a bell went off in his head; he had found his new look. He started to scour the internet for any pictures of Hawks that weren't already posted to his socials and be sure to crop any evidence out. A few hours later, Tomura gazed over his final product. He thought it seemed too good to be true; he was sure that anyone with a working brain would know the profile was clearly a catfish. It was too clean, too pristine, and too perfect, but Tomura was tired of the profile's nit-picking details and saved his last changes. It was starting to get dark, and he had to begin his Comp Sci homework soon so he'd have time to play zombies on Call of Duty later. 

Tomura woke to a multitude of buzzes notifying him of the several hundred matches he'd accumulated overnight on his Hawks profile. Apparently, no one had a working brain within the 15-mile radius. The messages were filled with tons of chicks he had seen on campus or in class. He even recognized the one from the Halloween party. He spent his morning smoke break, siphoning through the various contenders.

Too tall.

Too blonde.

Too ugly. 

Until...

He finally stopped scrolling when he reached your profile; he had seen you before in his Major classes. You were a somewhat modest girl, always working to be an overachiever and teacher's pet. You hadn't spoken to him before, only forcing a smile when Tomura was caught staring at you in class. You were talented, beautiful, quiet, and you hadn't encountered Touya yet. You were everything he had wanted, and more. He started to type a message awaiting your response.

Keigo: "What's keeping you up this late, love ;)" 

Tomura thought to keep it casual enough to fit his suave persona.

Y/N: "lol, just sum late night studying keeping me up."

Y/N: "won't lie im very nervous to texting you rn, i'm a big fan 

Keigo: "it's gud knowing i have fans as cute as you ;p"

The conversation seemed to flow from there between you two, texting for almost two weeks strong. Tomura had learned so much about you in a short time, your favorite foods, your favorite color, favorite music, and your dislikes as well. Touya often came by his room to check in on Operation: Get Shiggy Some Pussy, only to be met with a "Fuck off," and yet another door slammed in his face. 

You gushed over how lucky you were to be texting the one and only Keigo Takami. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but what kind of fucked up person would take the time to pretend to be another person? The conversation between you two was great and always kept you on your toes. Still, sometimes days would pass before you received a response; you chalked it to the fact that he was always busy as a celebrity and didn't always have time to respond to you. 

You were currently lying in bed and unable to fall asleep; you peered at your phone to see that it was 2:05 am. You let out a sigh, preparing to stare at your ceiling until you finally fell asleep, only to be interrupted by a chime from your phone. It was a message from Keigo. 

Keigo: you up? ;(

You instantly typed a response, scared that you had done something wrong.

Y/N: yup, what's wrong…?

Keigo: i'm so fucking hard rn baby ;(((

Oh shit, you hadn't prepared yourself for that response; maybe he injured himself at work or-

Keigo: you still there babe? send a pic ;p

You definitely hadn't prepared for that, but who were you to deny him. Keigo could've asked anyone else in the world, but he asked you. Not wanting to leave him waiting, you quickly shucked your shirt off and used your arm to push up your breasts, giving an illusion of the perfect push up bra. You promptly took several pics, taking the time to edit and select the ideal filters to complement your skin tone.

Y/N: 1 image sent

A bubble indicating him typing popped up instantly 

Keigo: 3 images sent

Keigo: fuckkkk babe, ur such a tease

You opened the pics, feeling your panties dampen slightly. It was a cock, well Keigo's cock, fat and engorged, leaking pre-cum against his toned belly. He was mostly well-groomed, but a prominent white tuft of hair appears in the picture, making you wonder if Keigo was actually a natural blonde.

Keigo: 1 video sent

 let me see that pretty pussy baby, 

It was a video of Keigo languidly stroking his cock, how romantic. It was only right for a gorgeous man like Keigo to have a pretty cock to match. What he lacked in girth was definitely made up for in length, complemented with a slight curve that could definitely reach that itch that none of your toys could scratch.  By now, you had ditched your panties and started to slowly start to fuck yourself open with one finger at a time. You started recording and angled the phone against your pillow, trying to capture you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, letting out a small whimper with each thrust.

Y/N: 1 video sent 

You began to fuck yourself vigorously, dragging the accumulated slick over your clit with slow, circular strokes. You felt your orgasm on the brink, growing more restless and desperate, humping reverently at your fingers, whimpering desperately; you were so close...There was a sudden surge of fluid from your core, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth as you kept carefully fucked yourself through your climax. The post-orgasm bliss lulling you to sleep, your eyes had finally fluttered shut, only to be awakened by another chime. 

Keigo: 1 image sent 

look @ all that cum baby, its all for you ;)

Y/N: when can we meet? my fingers can only work for so long :p

Read: 2:53 am

Aw man, maybe he fell asleep. You were definitely fighting sleep at this point as well, finally closing your eyes, satisfied for the night. 

Tomura struggled to catch his breath, reaching for his discarded shirt to wipe the sticky cum off of his stomach. That was the third time this month you'd ask about a meeting, and it was frankly starting to piss him off. He'd have to come up with something fast if he wanted to keep you around. Even though he didn't have much of a moral compass left in his body, the feeling of guilt was hard to ignore. You didn't deserve to be roped into his fucked up social experiment… 

A yawn interrupted Tomura's guilty thoughts. He could continue to feel guilty when he wakes up tomorrow.

 The following week your prayers had been answered, Keigo finally agreed to meet! It had been such a bittersweet feeling. What if he thought you looked nothing like your profile pictures? Would he reject you and run the other way, screaming? You tried to push your doubtful feelings down by distracting yourself with running errands. Finding the perfect outfit to wear, getting every inch of your body waxed, and picking up a lacy red lingerie set. 

Upon getting back to your apartment, you found a red bouquet of roses on the doormat. They were clearly store-bought and not of excellent quality… but it's the thought that counts! 

Lots of celebrities were frugal, and of course, Keigo was no different. After further inspection, a small white card with an address and time. You searched the address finding a mid-grade hotel on the outskirts of the city. Keigo was definitely a (cheap) frugal man dedicated to his discretion. Soon realizing that the time on the card was approaching, you quickly ran to shower and primp yourself for the evening. Not even thinking to question how he found your address in the first place...

You had finally arrived at the sketchy hotel, noting that there were little to no cars in the parking lot and noting that none of them looked like they belonged to Keigo. You wandered through the lobby until you finally reached the elevator, tapping the button for the 5th floor. You tried to shake off your pre-meeting jitters, you already knew everything would be fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong...

Those intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the chime that indicated you had reached your floor. You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, pacing yourself as you walked to your destination. 

Room 555 

How fitting, you thought. Your knuckles rasped against the door several times.

"Come in." A voice sounded through the door.

You peeked your head around the door before taking a step in the room, not being able to locate the owner of the voice. You gasped after taking the appearance of the room. The room had rose petals haphazardly strewn across the floor. Candles flickered on the dresser, a bubble bath was run in the bathroom, and to top it off, a too cheap bottle of champagne on ice. 

There was clearly an effort made, which made your heart swoon, hoping to put a real face to the man you've been speaking to for the past few months, you said out into the empty room.

"Keigo, I like what you've done with the place. You can come out now," you giggled.

"I'm glad you got the flowers," a raspy voice responded.

.......Huh?

Your joy instantly crushed, having heard Keigo's voice multiple times in the interviews you've seen, it sounded nothing like that. Unless he'd suddenly started chain-smoking within the past few months. A loud alarm started going off in your head. It was definitely time to go.

You twirled on your heels and reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand gripping your upper arm.

"Leaving so soon? The bathwater is still warm…" The mystery voice informed.

"Oh… I think I have the wrong room, so sorry about that." You squeaked, attempting to reach the door again only to be dragged into a bony chest. 

Your chin was tilted, forcing you to meet eyes with "Keigo." Who was actually a porcelain-skinned tower of a man with shaggy white hair that had an oddly familiar look to him? 

"Let me go! You're not Keigo!" You screamed, hoping to alert any other guests on the floor.

"Fucking took you long enough. I thought you were smarter than those other bitches on campus. Tomura balked, struggling to keep you still in his grasp.

Campus. That's where you recognized the face and voice of your captor, you were both in the same Comp Sci class, and you'd often caught him staring as you worked, chalking it up to you having something on your face or in your teeth. The realization caused tears to spurt from your eyes.

"Poor baby, didn't mommy and daddy teach you to not speak to strangers on the internet?"

"I-I thought y-you were K-Keigo," you gasped, struggling to control your sobs. 

"Well, I'm not. Get over it." Tomura slurred, placing sloppy kisses over your collar bone, slowly backing you towards the bed. 

You couldn't bring yourself to move or fight anymore, body stiff with fear. Your sobs increase in volume after feeling your legs make contact with the edge of the bed. You didn't know this man from a can of paint, and here he is about to assault you. 

"Stop crying before I leak those sexy little videos you shared with "Keigo." Imagine if everyone in the class knew how much of an easy slut you are?" Tomura hissed, shoving you unto the stiff mattress, springs squeaking as you bounced. 

You cradled your mouth, struggling to stifle your sobs. Why hadn't you recognized the signs sooner? You spent so much time looking at the situation through rose-colored lenses that you had utterly neglected your safety. But it wasn't the time to feign sympathy for yourself. You needed to take action, and soon—the shaggy haired stranger dragging your motionless body towards the end of the headboard. 

"Wait!" You gasped, hoping that you could possibly reason with your captor.

"What's your name? 

This was your final chance to escape. You suddenly kicked forward, aiming for his face, failing miserably as it was blocked. Both legs were then shoved into a mating press, granting Tomura the space to press himself even closer to you.

A groan left Tomura's mouth, frotting against your clothed mound, smothering your neck with sloppy saliva drenched kisses. You cowered at the feeling, curling away from his advances. The dry humping continued until a final groan of desperation was released. He was too grown for this shit and didn't feel like going home with stained boxers when your sweet heat was right in front of him.

The red bodycon dress you decided on was shredded down the middle, leaving you in your lingerie set. You added that to the list of things you were already regretting, moving to cover yourself the best you could. Your efforts to preserve the crumb of modesty you had left were futile, both hands knocked out of the way.

"You don't have to hide princess, I think Christmas came early.” “You're wrapped so pretty, baby." He chuckled, moving to fondle your breasts. Taking the time to pinch and pull at both nipples, drawing small hesitant gasps. 

"I'll play with these more later. You don't know how long I've waited to play with that cute little pussy in person." You felt your panties tugged to the side, embarrassed with the amount of arousal accumulated below. The feeling was soon replaced with horror after feeling the tip of his cock dragged between your slit.

Tomura used the residual slick to grease his cock, bypassing the need to stretch you out. He pressed forward, forcing himself inside, pausing to catch his breath. Damn... it's been a long time. 

You yelped in pain, closing your eyes in hopes of blocking out the situation at hand. You felt him start to pick up his pace, causing small tinges of pain to course through your body. 

"Mmmm, open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you." He gasped, realizing you hadn't complied yet, he landed a firm slap on your cheek. "Not only are you dumb, but you're also deaf too… open. SMACK your. SMACK fucking. SMACK eyes." 

Your eyes shot open, brimming with tears, finding yourself face to face with your captor. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, dainty white lashes framing the lids, traces of dry patches on his face. He wasn't ugly. You'd honestly give him a chance if he asked you out like a decent human being.

His pace had gained traction, hips crashing against yours. You found yourself slowly succumbing to the pleasure, discreetly fucking yourself against him. You wanted to protest and resist against him, but with your inhibitions lowered, you found it hard to comply. Each thrust pulling you further into the abyss that was your impending orgasm. Your lust-filled thoughts being interrupted by the stranger's incoherent mumbling.

"Tomura."

"Huh?" you whimpered, not fully understanding what he said. 

"My name is Tomura."

"Okay and mine i-"

"Shut up and say my name." Tomura's thrusts were sporadic, signaling his impending climax. "Beg me to cum…... please." 

You barely registered the final demand, not recognizing the soft tone of his voice.

"T-tomura, p-please let me cum!" you begged, right on edge needing something, anything to push you over.

Two nimble, callused fingers drew delicate circles over your clit, forcing you to writhe and sob as your orgasm coursed through your body. The feeling that followed was one of warmth as Tomura came, slowing his thrusts until he collapsed, encasing you in his arms.

Your eyes fluttered shut with your post-orgasm haze lulling you to sleep until a wet, sticky substance trickled along your inner thigh... 

What the fuck....

You nearly launched yourself from the bed, fighting to separate yourself from your captor's arms.  

"What is wrong with you?"

"You didn't use a condom," you wailed, tears perched at the corner of your eyes. You didn't have the time for a child, you were doing great in classes, your parents would reject you, you'd be stuck playing house with some stranger and-

"Stop muttering. You're fucking up my nap. I'll buy a Plan B when I wake up." Tomura mumbled into the pillow, dragging you back into his chest.

You continued to fight his grasp, pausing after feeling a firm pinch to your side. Fighting was futile at this point, and you couldn't fully assess the situation until you had some decent sleep. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds wouldn't hurt…right?

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.” 

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.” 

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.” 

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers. 

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred. 

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head. 

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining. 

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again. 

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table. 

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now. 

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.  

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.  

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.” 

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!” 

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support. 

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier. 

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now. 

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well. 

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.” 

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him. 

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist. 

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them. 

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.” 

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left. 

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping. 

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered. 

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers. 

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now. 

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure. 

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right? 

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.” 

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe. 

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone. 

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair. 

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while. 

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.” 

[jettingtothemoon]

Costume Party

➳ pairing: alucard x trevor x m!reader ➳ genre: fluff, modern au ➳ warnings: swearing, suggestive themes?, alcohol usage ➳ word count: 2337 ➳ rating: pg-15 ➳ summary: In which you and adrian throw trevor a surprise halloween party. ➳ a/n: a request from wattpad

What better place to throw a Halloween party other than Dracula's castle itself? Well, what used to be Dracula's castle. Now, it was your home but it wasn't like you lived here alone.

"Here?" Adrian questioned, looking at your for confirmation that he had chosen the correct place to hang the fake cobwebs.

You smiled, happy to see him taking this seriously despite originally thinking it might not have been a good idea, "Yeah, that's perfect."

It had been your suggestion to prepare a surprise Halloween party for Trevor when he arrived back home. He was in need of some fun, especially after such a long trip. Well, it was only a few days but those few days were very long without him. Both you and Adrian had missed him a great deal.

It's the 21st century so of course, you both called him while he was away but it just wasn't the same as seeing him in person. What better way to welcome him back other than with crazy costumes, fake blood and a keg full of beer? Well, he would at least appreciate the boose.

"Who did you invite again?" Adrian questioned, climbing down from the chair he had previously been standing on.

You finished putting up the last of the decorations in your hand and turned to him, "You know, a few people we know. The castle will be well filled out befitting a great party."

Adrian hummed and walked over to you, "Well, we better get you in a costume before they get here."

With a grin, you happily followed Adrian upstairs to the bedroom. He had already picked out a costume for you, although he made sure to keep it a surprise until this very moment.

"Is that a dress?"

Once again, he hummed and picked up the torn, tattered and bloody white dress, "Trevor will be Frankenstein and you'll be his bride."

After a very brief second of silence, you burst out laughing. It wasn't anything you would have ever expected from Adrian. Actually, you had expected him to make you dress up as a werewolf or a vampire-like himself but no, here he was putting you in a dress.

"Alright then, but doesn't that leave you out?"

"Well, I of course will be Dr Frankenstien himself. A vampire version, obviously. I think that makes me your owner." Adrian explained his idea behind the costumes and how he wasn't left out of it.

You raised an eyebrow and chuckled whilst eyeing up the dress he had prepared for you, "Our owner? I don't think Trevor will like that."

"No, but I'm sure he will be more than pleased to have you as his bride. Oh, and just in case you're not comfortable in the dress I brought some shorts for you to wear underneath."

You smiled and began to change, noticing how Adrian wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was eyeing you up. When you had managed to pull the dress on properly, you tried to reach for the zip only to find that it was out of reach.

As if on cue, Adrian circled around you and slowly began to pull the zip up, "Don't you look pretty."

"I feel ridiculous. You know most of the people coming to this party are my friends right? I will never live this down." You sighed, although you weren't going to oppose wearing the costume Adrian had specifically picked out for you.

"They'll simply be too stunned to care. You look beautiful my love. Now, time for the make-up." He clasped his hands together excitedly.

It was nice to see him enjoying himself. A Halloween party wasn't something Adrian agreed to immediately but the second you told him that he could pick out a costume for both you and Trevor, well, his thoughts on the matter changed entirely.

Make-up was a must for Halloween. Even if it simply meant some face paint and a bit of fake blood. For Adrian, however, it was simply another fun activity to do with you. With a look of complete concentration on his face, Adrian worked his magic and made you look like a bride befitting the undead Frankenstein.

"There, now just let me spray some temporary colour into your hair and we'll be done."

Once your costume was complete, Adrian instructed you to go finish off laying out the snacks and drinks. And so, you left him to change into his own costume and started by lugging the beer kegs into place.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

A familiar voice echoed from behind you as Trevor ducked under the spooky tunnel you had created at the entrance of the castle out of a few black sheets and lots of string.

You turned around with a smile, "We're having a Halloween party. I'm the Bride of Frankenstein."

"And where is this Frankenstein, huh? I might just have to duel him for his bride's affection."

It was embarrassing just hearing him say it but Trevor had always been a little possessive of you and Adrian. He was just like that with the people he loved.

"That would be you, actually. Come on, we don't have long and you need to get in your costume." Adrian explained, ushering Trevor up the stairs the moment he reached the bottom.

He was already in his costume, although he was only about halfway through spraying the white colour onto his golden hair. It was a simple costume. A white lab coat that was covered in splatters of fake blood, accompanied by the trail of red that ran along the side of his mouth. Of course, to top it off he was colouring his hair and donning a pair of long black gloves. Not to mention, his fangs were on full display for all to see.

"If you try to paint me green I swear to God Adrian..." Trevor grumbled as he followed after the blonde.

Not long after they disappeared upstairs, guests began to arrive. You were left to greet them all, laughing with them when they mentioned how great your costume was. By the time your lovers returned, the castle was flooded with a sea of people, all dressed up in gory costumes that matched perfectly with the decorations you and Adrian had spent the better half of the day putting up.

"I know what you're thinking, such a dashing monster. You know, I'm usually the one killing the monsters, not pretending to be one." Trevor chuckled as he and Adrian rejoined you.

He hadn't had much time to rest after coming back from his trip, if he had any at all, but he didn't seem the least bit tired. In fact, he looked ready to party. Music boomed through the castle, trembling through the very foundations and, like a leaf in the wind, Trevor was blown along with it. Well, blown over to the beer.

Adrian stood by your side, wrapping an arm delicately around your waist as he leaned into you, "You know, I think this is the best idea you've had in a while. Now, whilst he drinks himself into oblivion, why don't we have a little fun ourselves?"

Before you could ask what he meant, you were whisked away into the crowd of bodies. You certainly hadn't invited this many people but you weren't surprised that more people showed up. The news of a Halloween party in the haunted castle must have spread through town rather quickly.

Adrian took your hand in his and danced so slowly with you, despite the fast pace of the music. He wasn't dancing to the music at all. No, he was simply dancing with you. You rested your head against his shoulder with a smile, welcoming his embrace after such a long and tiresome day. Although, you suspected it would be an even longer night.

"Come on you two, stop being so boring and drink with me!" Trevor yelled over the music, interrupting you and Adrian as he grabbed both of you and pulled you over to where the drinks were.

Trevor was never one for romance, although he had his moments. Now, however, was not one of them.

He shoved a pint of beer into your hand and then passed one to Adrian, who sighed with a roll of his eyes and downed the drink in one. You soon followed suit. The pints soon turned into shots and, before long, the three of you were really rather drunk. With a hearty laugh, Trevor wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his entire weight falling onto you for a brief moment before he found his feet again.

"We should do this all the time."

You chuckled, "Do what? Dress up as monsters and party?"

"No. Drink, party and fuck to our hearts' content!" Trevor declared with yet another laugh.

It was nice seeing him having fun without any stress. He liked to stress. Too many monsters to kill, not enough monsters to kill. Not enough time at home with you and Adrian, too much time stuck at home. He was hard to please but always told the two of you how you made his life worth living, even if mostly when he was drunk or simply feeling extra sappy.

"You know, we haven't actually done that last one yet." You smirked.

Just because Trevor wasn't home for a few days didn't mean that you and Adrian hadn't, well, had sex. Of course you had but there was something about it when it wasn't all three of you, it just wasn't complete. Enjoyable, yes. But in the end you'd always wind up lying in bed wondering what Trevor was up to, amusing yourselves by joking about how he was probably lying in bed all grumpy because the two of you weren't by his side. He always missed you when he went on his trips and the two of you certainly missed him. Adrian went with him sometimes which meant that you were home all on your own until they returned, although they always made sure not to be gone for too long.

"That is true. Think we can ditch our own party and head upstairs?"

Before you could answer, Adrian stumbled past yelling out nonsense right before collapsing onto the sofa.

"Or not." Trevor sighed, although you simply giggled at the state Adrian was in.

Neither Trevor or Adrian were good at holding their beer but, when it came to Trevor at least he could function somewhat rationally no matter how smashed he was. Adrian, on the other hand, was and will always be a paralytic drunk.

"Let's get him to bed." You chuckled, dragging Trevor along to help you carry Adrian up the stairs.

The blonde grinned at you and extended his arms out towards you as if he knew what was happening, grabbing at the air between the two of you as he slurred, "Up, up. Let's gooooo."

You shook your head and went to help him up but, before you could, Trevor had beaten you to it, "Can't have my bride tugging this sack of potatoes up the stairs, can I?"

"Just get him to bed, I'll clear everyone out. What time even is it? One? Two in the morning?"

"Three. It's almost three in the morning." Trevor groaned and threw Adrian's arm around his neck as he gently picked him up.

With a nod, you headed over to the speaker, unplugging it before yelling at the top of your lungs that the party was over. You thanked everyone for coming as the left, sounding almost like a broken record as the swarm of bodies passed you and began heading home. There were a couple of people completely lying around but, after checking they were all still alive, you decided to just leave them to their sleep and sleepily began to head for your room.

When you got there, neither Adrian nor Trevor was anywhere to be seen. It didn't take long to find them though, you simply followed the sound of someone being sick until you reached the bathroom. And there they were. Adrian with his head down the toilet and Trevor, sweetly holding his hair back and rubbing circles into his back.

"This is your fault." Adrian sulked before throwing up what was left in his stomach.

Trevor simply continued to rub those soothing circles into his back and, once Adrian was done, allowed him to fall back against him, "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"Let's get you to bed." You yawned, crouching down beside Adrian before you helped Trevor get him back on his feet.

The three of you staggered along back to your bed. Adrian was the first to flop down into it, his hair splaying out on the pillow as he landed on his side of the bed. 

Trevor noticed you were struggling with the dress and came to help you unzip it. Although he didn't stop there and also went as far to push it over your shoulders until it fell onto the floor.

"You had to be wearing shorts under it." He sighed and buried his head into the crook of your neck.

You chuckled, "That's never stopped you before."

He hummed against your skin, kissing it softly before letting go and allowing you to step out of the dress. For tonight the paint, fake blood, hair colouring and make-up with have to say but there was no way you were going to wear that uncomfortable costume to bed. Trevor seemed to agree, at least to some extent, and pulled off his shirt before climbing in beside Adrian, carefully pushing his long hair over so that he wouldn't lie on it.

"Come on then." He spoke with a soft voice and lifted his arm so that you could lie against him.

You didn't waste a moment and crawled onto the large bed, squeezing up against Trevor as you rested your head against his chest.

Adrian, who you had both expected to have already conked out by now, rolled over and placed a hand on the other side of Trevor's chest with a sleepy smile, "We missed you."

"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too." He spoke with a slight blush, although you were certain that was because of the alcohol.

And so, snuggled together in bed, you finally fell asleep as three once again.

[dharc16]

10 WAYS TO CELEBRATE THE AUTUMN EQUINOX

The Autumnal Equinox is the time of year when daylight and nighttime are equal. After the Autumnal Equinox, the darkness will begin to win the battle, gaining an extra minute or so every day as we progress towards winter. Now is the time when nature begins to slow and the harvests become less plentiful. Though the autumn equinox can arrive as early as September 20th or 21st depending on solar patterns, this year it falls on September 22nd. So get ready to celebrate!

Like most Sabbats that are celebrated later in the year, the autumn equinox is about reflection and letting go of that which does not serve us any longer. It's a chance to slough off the old and prepare for rest. We clean out that which piled up during the business of summer and store up that which we will need for our winter rest. The colors of the Autumn Equinox are just as rich and warming as the colors of autumn—deep crimson, vibrant orange, lustrous gold, and earthy brown. If you're planning a feast, make sure to include all the fall bounties as well as late summer fruits and vegetables. Pumpkin, squash, berries, nuts, and corn are all fantastic inclusions. Looking for specific ideas on how to celebrate the Autumn Equinox without costing a mint? You've come to the right place! Here are 10 wonderful ways to celebrate for free or for little cost!

MAKE POPCORN

What's more cozy than snuggling under a blanket with a big bowl of buttered popcorn? Of course, you could always watch a movie, but why not take your treat outside to watch nature instead? Inhale that fragrant autumn air. Really take a few moments to appreciate the breathtaking hues of the trees. Watch the birds and squirrels as they prepare for winter. Simply take in the magnificence of the season. And if you're in a generous mood, leave a few un-buttered pieces of popcorn for the critters.

BALANCE YOUR CHAKRAS 

The Autumn Equinox is a time to find balance in your life. But while we tend to immediately think of time constraints as a place to find balance (work versus family time, family time versus self-care), when was the last time you balanced your spiritual centers?If you're not familiar, chakras are points of energy on the body that have spiritual as well as physical impact. When they are balanced, life is good. When they are imbalanced, we have unwanted manifestations, such as illness and financial troubles. The good news is balancing them is as simple as taking a few minutes for visualization! Like any visualization, chakra balancing gets easier with practice, so don't feel discouraged if you have trouble focusing during your first go around or two. A nice, simple chakra meditation can be found on YouTube. Get a blanket, find a quiet spot under a tree, and take some time to balance your chakras this Mabon! You'll be glad you did. Bonus points if you plant your feet in the soil and get your earthing on!

HAVE A PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE

Admittedly, this suggestion is a little self-benefiting. But what's autumn without a warm drink laced with cinnamon and nutmeg? You can certainly buy one at your favorite coffee shop, but why not make one? I'm betting you already have the ingredients on hand. Take the time to really savor the process. Inhale the nutty aroma of the coffee before you brew it. Watch as the creamer turns your drink into a rich caramel color. Savor the first sip without scarfing down the entire drink. Life is a lot more pleasurable when we take time to relish the things we enjoy. Sit outside with your homemade brew, breathe deep inhalations of that luscious autumn air, and simply BE.

FOCUS ON GRATITUDE AND THANKSGIVING

With Autumn Equinox being a time of reflection and balance, what better way to celebrate than to make a list for all that you are thankful for? Take a notebook to the park and make a list of everything you appreciate—from big things, like your family or health, to small things, like hot cocoa and fuzzy slipper socks. Feeling crafty? Make a gratitude tree! Simply find a funky fallen twig that has lots of little branchy offshoots to hold your leaves. Place the twig (or twigs) in a pot of stones so it's standing upright, like a miniature dead tree. Collect fallen leaves or cut your own from construction paper. Write something you're grateful for on each leaf. Tape on a loop of string or thread, and hang the leaves from your twig! Beauty and function— my favorite!And remember, crafts don't need to be limited to children. Our children are grown and gone, yet we make a gratitude tree every year for Thanksgiving by adding one leaf a day for each day in November leading up to the big feast! Festiveness isn't just reserved for those too young to drive. Embrace life! Live it with all you've got! And don't forget to be grateful!

BRING IN SOME NATURE 

If you're anything like me, you're just itching to get something decorative in your home this fall. We don't really get in to decorating for Halloween with ghosts and goblins because we don't celebrate the way that most people in America do. We celebrate it the Christian way, not the pagan way. Why not take a nature walk and collect whatever beautiful, natural treasures you stumble upon? Colored leaves. Acorns. Gnarled twigs. Pine cones. Cool rocks. Bring a bag and collect whatever catches your eye. Arrange it on a table or counter top when you get home, throw in a candle or two (maybe gold and red) and you've got yourself an instant natural Mabon altar! You can even leave your natural masterpiece up for a few weeks as a spectacular (and FREE!) fall decoration!

WELCOME IN THE DARKNESS 

As the sun sets on the Autumn Equinox, we welcome in the darkness of the coming season. Grab a blanket, some lawn chairs, and allow yourself to be fully in the moment as the sun sets this equinox. Once the orange globe has dipped below the horizon, breathe in the darkness of fall and honor the tranquil introspection this season inspires. With tea, of course!

BRING ON THE COZY 

Having spent most of my life in Texas, what I miss most about autumn is the coziness. Soft sweaters. Knitted throws. Hot drinks. Crisp morning air. Chilly noses on rainy days. Envelop yourself in the coziness of autumn, even if, like here in Texas, you are still running the air conditioner and suffering in 90 degree weather. Whether that means decorating your home in autumnal flare, lighting a pumpkin-spice candle, or baking a cinnamon-scented apple pie, do something special that puts you in that autumn state of mind.

TAKE IT IN

The best part of autumn is undoubtedly the simplicity. Life seems to slow down just a little, following the graceful dance of nature herself. Take the time to slowdown alongside her. Treat yourself to a pumpkin latte, head over to your favorite park or even your own backyard, and just exist. Watch the passersby as you sip your drink. Observe the colors of autumn, the slight crisp that's beginning to blossom in the air, the chatter of birds as they prepare for winter. Breathe deep. Slow your mind. Just exist. It's something we don't do often enough, but fall is most definitely the time for it!

FIND BALANCE

 Whether autumnal or vernal, equinoxes are the perfect opportunity to find balance, just like nature! If you've been doing a little too much of anything—eating, working, worrying, whatever!—now is the time to take a step back and evaluate how to change your behavior in favor of a more healthy approach. Remember, anything in excess is damaging. Even drinking too much water will kill you.I know! Crazy, right?!If you find it difficult to disconnect from work. If your vice is copious amounts of sugar. If exercise has become obsessive. If spending has exceeded income, take the time to make positive changes. NOT to belittle and berate yourself. NOT to feel guilty and swim among the self-loathing waters. Objectively look at the situation, find a reasonable solution, and make changes. Shame doesn't fix the problem. It's a warning bell that alerts us to the need for change. Nothing more. Take a deep breath of that fresh autumn air and start again. You've got this!

CINNAMON FLAMES

Autumn seems to bring out the craving for bonfires and campfires. If you're lighting one up this Autumn Equinox, toss in a couple of cinnamon sticks for good luck in the coming season. Plus your backyard will smell heavenly!

Whether you use this time to reflect or to indulge, I hope you have a spectacular Autumn Equinox celebration filled with love, coziness, and an extra dash of magic! BLESSED BE!

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

gently rings a little bell in your ear My fic updated with two new chapters when you weren't paying attention! but now i am tilting your chin up with the point of my sword, forcing you to look. its very villainous and cool. this is part three of an increasingly convoluted story, part one can be found all the way over here but if you just want the high school romance stuff and don't care about found family, that's fine, i guess, but like, what's your deal

The weekend is a welcome relief from everything at school. He’s tired of feeling like shit, so Saturday, annoyingly bright and early, he startles Lydia awake by flopping on her bed. It causes her to bounce, and she groans, pulling the dark purple blanket further over her head. “Beetlejuice…” “I was thinkin’, today we should spend th’ whole day outdoors, in th’ park or somethin’,” he grins, and she lifts the blanket just barely, to glare at him. “You only want to play outside because all your stuff was taken away,” comes her accusation, and she’s not exactly wrong, but he just wiggles a hand under her blanket and gives her nose a poke. “Let’s go get lost, somewhere. Come on, Lyds, please?” She tries to hit him with a pillow but her grip is tired from sleep, and all she manages to do is shove the thing at him.

Twenty minutes later, she’s dressed and ready, bouncing on the balls of her feet, as he mulls over which button up to wear, the highlighter yellow with purple bugs, or the dark green with orange bones. They’re two equally ugly shirts that kind of give him a headache to look at, and both are favorites. “I can’t believe you woke me up at eight so I could stand around watching you go through your wardrobe.” “This is important.” He settles on the bugs, finally, and pulls it on before turning to Lydia, but she’s gone. He blinks, and sticks his head out his door, in time to headbutt her as she comes back in. Both siblings reel back and hold their heads. “Beetlejuice…” she groans. “Lyd-eee-uhhh,” he mimics her. She huffs and throws what she’d gone to her room to retrieve at him. He catches it, then stares. It’s his hoodie, his ruined one from that disastrous Halloween. He can still see that faded dark copper stain in some places, but it's better than it was. Also, the holes slashed in the arms have been very sloppily stitched with a thick, black embroidery thread. He looks back at his sister. “You seemed like you were having a hard week,” Lydia says, shuffling her feet. “I never sewed anything before, I’m sorry it looks kind of messy, and I tried really hard to get the bloodstains out...” He slips his familiar stripes back on and feels much more at ease. “It’s cool,” he tells her. “I like messy.” He holds open his arms and she falls into them, pressing her face against his stomach. It's a nice moment, and for once, he doesn’t feel inclined to ruin it, just pats his little sister’s head. “Love you.” “Love you too.”

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Charles, ever an early riser, is surprised to see his children in the kitchen this bright eyed and bushy tailed on a Saturday. He’s pouring two coffees, one for himself and one for Emily, who is sitting at the table, head propped up on her hand, and still functionally asleep, when Betelgeuse and Lydia come bounding in to raid the fridge. “And what are you two getting up to today?” he asks, and the siblings pause to look at him. “Goin’ to th’ park.” “You think so?” Betelgeuse’s shoulder slump. “Seriously? You take all my stuff away an’ now I can’t even go out?” “You’re still in trouble. Why should you be allowed to go out and have fun?” “Cause that wasn’t specified!” Betelgeuse tries, and then turns to Emily. “Ma, tell him!” Emily mutters in her sleep, and Charles wordlessly sets the coffee down in front of her. The smell hits her nose, and robotically, she lifts the drink to her lips, eyes never opening. “Let BJ go do stuff,” she manages, maybe not as eloquent as she normally speaks, her voice gruff from sleep. Betelgeuse grins up at Charles. His father sips his own coffee, and then pats his son’s head. “Home before dark. No fire, no demon nonsense, no taking drugs from strangers.” “Home at midnight, commit arson, summon Satan, enjoy stranger candy. I gotcha.” Both his children receive a kiss on the head before stuffing Lydia’s little black coffin bag with snacks, and heading out.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s a big city, and there’s not a loss of things to do, especially with his powers, and there’s no adult supervision today. They find a café and enjoy a big breakfast, then he turns them invisible and they sneak away before the check comes, only reappearing a block later, Lydia grinning wildly. “Food tastes better stolen!” she says, and he pats her head. “There’s my little criminal.” They sneak into a movie, next, some horror thing Lydia had wanted to see that even Emily, the fun parent, had said she was too little for. It’s absolutely a gore fest, but not especially good, and they throw popcorn at the screen and cheer whenever the killer scores another victim.

“I think you’d die early in a slasher,” she says after, scattering their uneaten popcorn on the pavement in front of the theatre. She gets the attention of a whole flock of pigeons, which land and begin pecking at the kernels. “What’s your logic, there?” “You die on screen early and then the twist is you faked your death and were the killer.” “Ohh, classic. I love it.” “I’m a total final girl,” Lydia turns the half empty bucket upside down, much to the joy of the starving sky rats. “And then at the end, it’s like, I knew you were the killer the whole time, and I was just acting. Cause we’re in it together. You know, partners in crime.” He picks her up, slings her over his shoulder. “Always.”

He takes them to Central Park, next, holding her hand behind the theatre and apparating, accidentally, up a tree. She gasps and clings to him, and he digs his claws into the bark of the tree to steady them. “No worries, no worries. I just gotta..” They appear on the ground below, and Lydia looks dizzy. “Feels weird when you do that,” she tells him. “Like riding a rollercoaster, except your limbs are all asleep. But.. Kinda not that, at the same time.” It feels normal to him, but he regularly eats tin cans, so what does he know about normal to begin with?

Lydia takes her camera from her coffin bag, and readies it. It’s a little instamatic she got for her birthday, a few months ago, and she’s going through film like crazy, taking some pretty shitty pictures. He’s not that blunt to her face, though. It’s not like he was a rockstar on the ukulele when he first started, and she’s got a lot of enthusiasm for taking photos. He’s not going to be the one to squash that for her.

Also, he’ll bite off the hand of whoever tries.

“You think this can take pictures underwater?” she asks, aiming her camera at a random woman jogging by. The jogger makes a face, which seems to be what Lydia expects, because she snaps the picture as the woman continues on her way, and the little photo pops out the bottom. Lydia gives it an aggressive shake.

“I’m gonna guess no. Besides, it’s too cold for you to take a swim.” “So let’s go somewhere warmer. I’m thinking Hawaii.” “Good idea, genius, an’ how do you think we’re getting there?” “You can teleport us.”

He actually has to stop and think about that. “I don’t think I could do it in one straight shot,” he says at last. Lydia has moved to a different kind of voyeurism, because she’s on her stomach on the grass, following the movement of a trail of ants with her lens. “I’d probably have to do little distances, an’ get tired and need a nap in th’ middle.”

“Maybe through a mirror? Like Sam?” She adjusts the optic, an entirely useless motion, because this camera doesn’t have any kind of zoom feature. But she’s seen people do it in nature documentaries. “Never done mirror travel before.” He mulls that over. “I’ll practice when I get home, an’ see if I can even pull you through.” “You’re not allowed to go to Hawaii without me,” she gets what she considers her perfect shot, and then stands, brushing off her dark red dress. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They go bone hunting next, Lydia’s camera still at the ready, his keen nose leading the way. It’s easy to find owl pellets, and she breaks one open with her bare hands, as he teases her.

“Ew ew ew, Lydia gross, you’re touching it!” he pitches up his gruff voice to sound like a tweenage girl, and she rolls her eyes. “No skull in this one,” she frowns, wiping her hands on his hoodie.

“Maybe there’s a bodiless mouse head around here, livin’ it’s best life.” She looks doubtful.

Another, different smell hits his sensitive nose, just then. It’s death, new and fresh. His pupils dilate, and he follows it, her trailing after him, assuming he’s on the scent of more animal bones. What they find instead is an old man propped against a tree. He’s still warm, but the color is draining from his face, and rapidly. He doesn’t look hurt, he’s not bleeding. It’s like he sat down for a rest and died.

Lydia doesn’t get it, not right away. Death is a funny punchline in an overly gorey movie. She’s never seen the real thing, before. “Should we wake him up? It’s cold to be sleeping here.” He lifts the man’s arm, and it flops bonelessly back down. Her eyes go wide. “I doubt he’s gettin’ back up, kiddo.” She lifts her camera and takes a picture.

“Hello?” He hears a voice, and turns. The old man is standing next to himself. He looks back at Lydia, but she’s staring in fascination at the corpse, so he leaves her to it. “Hey,” he nods to the man, who looks relieved. “Can you call my grandson? My phone battery died,” he says, not seeming to understand the position he’s in. Betelgeuse tilts his head to the side. “You’re dead,” he says, a bit unkindly, and Lydia, who has been kneeling by the body, poking it, looks up at him. “I am?” “Wh- No, not you, Lyds, th’ stiff.” He gestures to the ghost, who has seemed to notice “himself” laying there. Lydia looks at her brother, confused. “There’s no one there.” “Sure there is. You just can’t see ghosts.”

“That’s me,” the old man says, not that anyone’s listening to him. “Should we tell someone about this?” Lydia asks him, and Betelgeuse shrugs. “Why? Someone will find th’ body eventually. You know. When it starts smellin’ like shit.” “I don’t want to leave him out here.” “Please, don’t leave me out here!” “I wouldn’t want to be left out here.” “Lucky for you, you’re never gonna die. You even try it an’ I’ll shove your soul back down your throat, if I have to.”

He smells the netherworld, and grabs Lydia, pulling her back, in time for another ghost to appear. A guide. The guide doesn’t even take a moment to look around, just instantly busies herself with getting the newly dead situated, and Betelgeuse picks Lydia up and carries her away. “That’s so sad,” she says, taking one last picture of the body from atop his shoulder. “I guess.”

They find the next official looking person they see, someone cleaning up trash, who doesn’t believe them, clearly, until he sees one of the photos Lydia took. The deathly pallor of the old man convinces him to go looking. Thirty minutes later, that part of the park is crawling with breathers, and the two of them are stuck on a bench, being talked to by cops. It’s a whole, boring process, and it’s drawing a big crowd. “Told ya, we shoulda minded our business,” Betelgeuse nudges his sister. Lydia is looking overwhelmed. Neither sibling ever gets this much attention. There’s even a news crew, though he can’t imagine what for. It’s just one old dead guy, and it’s not even a murder. Someone with a microphone tries to approach them, and he turns their mic into a black and white striped snake, forcing them to fling it away from themselves in a panic, and then he grabs Lydia.

They blink from existence and appear a ways away, and Lydia’s clutching his hand harder than she needs to. “Hey, come on.” His grating voice is soft, for her, as he kneels to her level, and she throws her arms around his neck. “How are you so calm? Doesn’t it make you sad?” she asks, softly, and he gives her an extra squeeze. “Happens to all breathers, Lyds. But it’s not somethin’ I gotta worry about, ever. So… no, not really.”

“Will you be sad when I die?”

He scoops her up, holding his little sister in his arms, and stands, her still clinging around his neck. “When you die at a hundred and twenty,” he tells her, carrying her along the path. “Wherever in the netherworld you end up, I’ll go too. Won’t even have time to be sad, me an’ you’ll be too busy causin’ trouble, even then.” She seems satisfied with that answer, and he doesn’t mind carrying her, so they enjoy the autumn leaves like that, her in his arms, as he follows the winding pathways of the park.

They don’t tell Charles and Emily, when they finally do get home, the sun just barely still peaking over the horizon. It doesn’t seem like a good idea, and Lydia doesn’t especially want to talk about it anymore. She pins her new photos up on the twine strung between the tall bedposts in her room. There’s a couple nice ones, and she lets him eat the ones she decides she hates. “Does it count as part of being grounded if you watch my tv?” she asks, and he grins. “Let’s find out.” She pops in Coraline, which he has to assume she’s got fucking memorized at this point, but they also talk through most of it. By the time the tasty looking bug furniture is on screen, her eyelids are drooping. “I dunno why they make her eatin’ bugs so evil. I wanna try beetles from Zanzibar,” he complains, and she just snorts in response “I’ll get you some fancy beetles, for your birthday.” “Kay. Sounds good.” She falls asleep on him a minute later, and he waives a hand, snuffing the lights, but lets the movie finish playing as he settles next to her, and sleeps.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` That next week is boring, but normal. Adam’s in the library every day, despite his earlier insistence that he had better things to do. Betelgeuse honestly just wheels the cart along and lets Adam shelf the books, now, which the nerd seems to unironically enjoy. He’s all smiles as he gets to put things away neatly. It’s embarrassing how endearing and cute Betelgeuse finds that. It’s Tuesday, Barbara isn’t there that day, at least, not right at that moment, so Adam is babbling about her. “Barbara and I aren’t really performers,” he’s telling Betelgeuse, returning a stack of history books to their proper places on the shelves. “But we thought it would be fun to try theatre together, and then we really enjoyed it, so we’ve been in the last two productions. She can really sing, she does this high note, and it’s-” “Angelic, I bet.” Both boys give a stupid, love sick sigh. Adam pauses, and nods, and then studies the other teen. “So.. You.. You like her?” “Yeah,” he says easily. “But that doesn’t mean anythin’.” “What do you mean?” “I mean,” he clarifies, flopping across the cart, stomach first, and laying on it, staring down at Adam, who is crouching to reshelf some more books. “That despite me being a hot piece of ass, I’m probably not her type. I imagine she goes more for…” he studies Adam, trying to think of a nice word for boring, plain and vanilla. “More stable guys,” he lands on. “Like you. I bet she even likes how cute your butt looks in your khakis. I know I do.” Adam flushes. “You think so?” “It’s a good butt.” He nods, and Adam goes redder. “I meant, you think Barbara.. Might like me?” “Well, don’t push your luck, or nothin’, but you probably got a better chance with her.”

“You’re not entirely unlikable,” Adam offers. Betelgeuse lets out a guffaw that’s too loud, because someone in the next aisle over shushes him. “You already forget what I told you Friday?” he rests his head on his hand, tone condescending. “I know no one wants me around.”

“You’re setting yourself up for failure, with that attitude.”

“You think so, huh? Think I just need to hold hands round th’ campfire and sing kumbaya with all you breathers? I don’t think anyone would even take my hand. Probably couldn't get away from me fast enough.” There’s a pause. He doesn’t realize what he’s said until Adam is repeating it. “Breathers?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, because he feels a push on the cart, and turns to see Barbara, hands on the handle. “You’ve completely given up even trying, haven’t you?” she says, and he thinks she means about the books, and smiles. “No point. Adam’ll just do it for me.” “I mean with talking to people. With making friends.” His smile falls quickly into a scowl, and he runs a hand through his wild mess of green hair. “Lay off me, Babs. I’m bein’ friendly right now, aren’t I?”

“Sure, it’s plenty friendly, letting Adam do your work. But you don’t try, and then you get your feelings hurt when no one does it for you.” That’s not laying off, and it’s irritating him. “You can’t imagine anyone being nice to you, so you’re rude and push everyone away the first chance you get, in case what? In case you make a friend? Kevin probably needs you, right now,” she presses, physically too, making the cart he’s still lying across lurch forward. “I told you what happened to his dad, and you just said he wasn’t even your friend, when everyone knows you spent the last few months holding hands and making googoo eyes at him, and only talking to each other.”

“S’none of your business,” he tugs at his hair, pulling a tuft down to watch the color. Still green. He’s okay, but he keeps it there, in front of his eyes, focusing on it and not having to look at Barbara. “I’m making it my business. What are you so afraid of? What’s with the barrier? I saw you with your sister, you’re normal and nice, to her. So it’s other people you’re afraid of?” “M’not,” he growls out, standing up off the cart. “Afraid of anythin’.”

“You are,” she says, letting go of the cart and stomping to stand in front of him. She’s got him cornered, his back pressed to the bookshelf behind him. He keeps his eyes on that green tuft, biting his bottom lip. “You’re afraid of rejection, so you don’t talk, or you’re a jerk to people. You’re so afraid of other people, you make yourself sit alone every day, even when there’s an empty seat next to someone else.”

“No one wants me around!”

God, that hurts. He can see purple forming in the tip of his hair.

“You think I haven’t tried?” he rasps at her, letting his hair go, and finally looking directly at her. “You think I like sittin’ alone, bein’ the weird kid in every class, not havin’ anyone to talk to? It sucks!” he hears himself being shushed again, and he expends a burst of power in that direction, knocking books off the shelves to hit the person who can’t mind their own business. The sudden noise makes both Adam and Barbara jump. “You ever noticed that anytime I’ve tried, people can’t get th’ hell away from me fast enough? I’m tired of bein’ alone, but every time I try, somethin’ goes to shit, or I'm ignored! So maybe it is easier to just be a jerk an’ not worry about gettin’ hurt, than to keep tryin’ and ache all th’ time.”

It’s the most honest he’s ever been, out loud. Barbara clenches her fists, but doesn’t say anything. He sees Adam push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Lunch isn’t even close to over, and he’s just made more work for himself by knocking those books off the shelf, but he doesn’t care. He grabs his backpack from the cart and pushes past the two of them, and he storms out, forcing the library door to slam, even though it’s a soft close door. It feels more final, that way.

He spends the rest of lunch invisible, to avoid any more trouble with adults, and slumps into his customary seat in the back of every class, for the rest of the day. No one talks to him. He doesn’t try to talk to anyone. It’s a system, it works. Stupid Barbara. What does she even know? Like she can somehow understand anything he’s going through. She’s pretty, and cool, and has a ton of friends, he thinks, absolutely bitter. She doesn’t get it.

He trudges to the drama room after school, and pushes open the door with his shoulder. The seats are in a circle, again, and he chooses a random one, pointedly, away from Adam and Barbara, between two other people. He sits there, silent, and after a moment, the two kids both move seats. How miserably predictable. Come on, he wills himself. No purple, no red. Just stay green. You can go home and freak the fuck out, but just stay green, he begs his hair.

He wipes his nose hard with his hoodie sleeve, and focuses on that, on the texture of the fabric and the way he rubs hard enough for it to hurt. Pain is as close to relief as he can get. Then the chairs next to him are scooted closer, and he blinks, and realizes that Adam and Barbara have settled on either side of him. He doesn’t.. Get it. He can’t understand, but then both of them reach a hand out, and take one of his, and give it a squeeze. It’s grounding. He takes a breath he doesn’t need, and then a couple more, shaky and painful, and he gives their hands a squeeze back, like he’s making sure they’re real. They are.

When the club starts, he tries, very sincerely, to focus on what’s being said, and not the bright hot feeling blooming like a flower in his chest. Read the rest here!!

[yandere-society]

The Ultimatum

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day has rolled around once again, and just like last year, you plan on spending it with none other than your emotional support dog. What you don’t know, however, is that you have an unexpected visitor awaiting for you at home.. and not only does he have a loaded gun on his hip, but he also has your beloved pet in his lap.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 6,000

Admin: @tatertotthethot​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, signs/mentioning of mental disorders such as: anxiety, depression, PTSD and dissociation; Mentions of gang violence; Depictions of gore; nonconsentual kissing (nothing sexual); no dogs were harmed in the making of this…

“Here you go, guys.” You said as you handed the couple across the counter their drinks. You returned their smiles and bid them a good day, but as soon as they turned away and linked their fingers together on the way out, your expression settled into one of disdain.

Baley, your manager, noticed it. But like always, she chose to ignore it. She’s very much use to your secretive, albeit bitter distaste towards romance. She’s been working along side you for two years now, and knows that you’re a big advocate for holiday decorations. You’ve decked the place out on Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas— even fucking Saint Patrick’s day. But for Valentine’s Day, all you did was slap some heart shaped stickers on the window and didn’t even look too happy to be doing that, either. But she’s never been one to push.

“Guess what I’m doing this evening,” She hinted, hanging the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

“Hm?” You asked, having zoned out while rinsing your shot glasses out.

“I’m gonna eat the rest of my edibles and read some alien erotica.”

Not expecting anything less from her, given her personality, you only choked out a laugh and shook your head. It’d be more amusing if you knew she wasn’t kidding. Baley has a weird obsession with aliens and you never took her serious about it until you bought her a tentacle dildo as a gag-gift on her birthday, and instead of laughing about it and going off into a banter like you were anticipating, she started screaming and jumping up and down like you just handed her the last Golden Ticket to the fucking chocolate factory.

“What about your boyfriend?” You asked, forcing yourself to engage in conversation to keep you from spiraling.

“He’s out of town. So I’ll be thinking of him as I read about the alien king abducting me and using my tenta-holes—“

“Never mind.” You cut her off, trying to let that lighten up the mood. You appreciated the effort, but it didn’t work. You just wanted today to be over.

It’d be a whole lot better if only you could tell her the truth and come clean about your past. But it’s not like she’d believe you, even if you had the guts. But in all honesty, her fantasy about alien abduction was more believable.

You’re a barista making $10 an hour, living paycheck to paycheck and inhabiting the house your grandmother left you in her will. You have no car, you rely on public transportation; all your clothes are from goodwill and when you’re not working at this shop, you spending your life in confinement of those walls with your dog, as a recluse.

If you even dared to tell Baley that, just three years ago, you were living in a million-dollar mansion in South Korea, and had a luxurious wardrobe from big-name designers and that you didn’t even own a pair of fucking socks that were under $100.. she’d look at you as if you were the alien. She wouldn’t entertain the bigger half of the story, about how you were engaged to a man who’s now serving a life sentence and could possibly be put on death row for committing a robbery that left one of the international banking systems short 23-million won— which would amount to be approximately 20 million dollars in America... you would’ve lost her at the word Fiancé.

It’d be easy to prove, though. Your associations to the crime may not show up in your background check, being as you’re back here in America and was never detained, and the news isn’t relevant enough to circulate here. However, a simple google search would reveal it all, even with pictures of you two in public.

But not even you wanted to look up his name to know what was going on with his case. You were still ambient to forget about him, in a way. You wanted to ignore his existence. You fucking loath that man.. you swear, you do.

You had fallen back into a brooding silence again without even meaning to, and although you were busily cleaning up off muscle memory, you were detached. He still has that effect on you. And truth be known, the first year you spent in lonesome isolation after leaving Korea was just a change of scenery but not very different from the lifestyle he had subjected you to. But even still, it was so much better than living with him at the estate. And now, with your dog Sweetpea there, you feel safe again. At least you were in the same place you grew up, and felt closer to your grandmother—

Fuck, you missed her so much. He wouldn’t even let you visit her in person before she past. The man owned his own private jet and it never had any maintenance problems until the one fucking night you needed to go back home. You only got to speak with her on the phone, and bawled your fucking eyes out and spewed out an incoherent apology just hours before her heart gave out. That’s when she told you that she left you the house, and how sorry she was for kicking you out of it because you didn’t pursue the career field she wanted you to go for.

If only they would’ve arrested Taehyung a month prior, you could’ve been there for her. You could’ve hugged her and the two of you could given each other the apology you both deserved.

“Hey..” Baley’s voice suddenly came to your left ear, the only one that you could actually hear out of. Your right one, despite being 80% deaf even with a functioning hear aid, was faintly ringing from the emotional tangent you had accidentally drifted into.

You looked over at her, and broke down. Although she could never fully understand, she still gave you an empathetic frown and was pulling you into a hug before you could sputter out an apology— not that there was any use for one.

You had secrets that still haunted you, and will always impair your daily life— much like your botched eardrum and this shitty device you spent way too much money on. That’s another thing you only had Kim Taehyung to thank for, along with your fucked up shoulder.

You had to carefully elevate your arms but eventually returned the hug and cried a little harder, not able to help it. Sweetpea was a great reciprocate for affection and did a swell job with distracting you, but as far as human comfort goes, you haven’t had so much as that in.. well, seven fucking years. Tae was always big on affection, and also comforted you when you needed it. But it was redundant and didn’t have a sincere effect, being as he was the very one that initially caused the hurt it derived from.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, I never do... but I want you to know that I can see how strong you are. You’re doing a great job at making it through each day...” she muttered, rubbing your back as it shook with each silent sob. You felt bad when you heard her own voice beginning to thicken, but that was no surprise. She was a sympathizer and a little bit emo in general. Seeing others cry was enough to jerk a tear out of her, and you loved that about her. She’s a weirdo, but she’s pure, and she’s very good hearted. You could even say that you may have deeper feelings for her as well, and they may even be mutual, but you were no good for her. Hell, you were already putting her in enough danger just by being an employee at her shop. If you were to let your relationship stem past being friendly coworkers, or even hung out with her outside of work, that could pose an actual threat to her safety.

So, even though you wanted to lengthen the embrace, and longed to tighten your arms around her even more, you pulled back and wiped at your face, giving her a weak grin and a nod instead.

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before taking a step back, recollecting herself.

“You go home. I got everything else.”

You sheepishly nodded again, thanking her one last time before collecting your things and booking it out of there. Had you not felt so broken and defeated in that moment, you would’ve refused. But her show of affection triggered a deep, dire need to give and be given more comfort.

Fortunately for you, though, you had a special someone for that. Your dog is the only living creature on this planet that can be trusted with the revelations of your past. She’s the only reliance you have for receiving unconditional love and support without any judgment... probably because she doesn’t even understand what the fuck you’re saying half the time, nor can she repeat the shit you say, but as far as comfort goes, it’s always a guarantee.

— That’s just in her nature, like most pets. Pitbulls, however, are very sensitive and attentive to certain emotions— especially depression and anxiety. They’re just as good with protecting their owners, as well as they are with babysitting them. Everyone knows pitbulls have a notorious and misguided reputation for being aggressive. But little do most know, before dog fighting became a popular thing and defamed their personalities, pitbulls were primarily referred to as ‘Nanny dogs’. They’re great with babies in general, and very domestic and charismatic by nature. But despite being big, loveable goof balls themselves, they can literally sense stressful emotions and will know what type action to take in order to sedate them.

Sweetpea may not have professional training and certification but it is by her true nature and personality that you call her an Emotional Support Dog. When you’re having another one of your episodes— panic attacks, senseless paranoia, nightmares— she’s running to your aid and doing anything she can to distract and get you to play with her. When you’re depressed and spiraling into another breakdown, she licking at your face and sitting in your lap, not even seeing the problem with her being three times bigger than the average lap dog—

“Kneehemplamaforseeking?”

You sucked in a breath and blinked over at the PetsMart employee, smiling a few away from you. You probably looked lost, and in a way you quite literally were. You hardly remember walking in the direction of this store, let alone entering it. But this a common thing for you, so you easily just went on about your way despite the sudden worry of missing your bus... again.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” You had asked, turning your good ear towards her and watching her lips move.

“Do you need help looking for something?” She repeated, carefully annunciating her words this time, now that she could see the device in your ear. In today’s age, most people mistake it as a bluetooth— which has unknowingly saved you from accidentally talking to yourself in public, more than you would know.

You shook your head in response to the lady, and checked the time on your phone. You had 30 minutes left, thank God.

“No thanks. I’m just here to get some treats and waste some time before my bus comes. It’s windy as hell outside.”

“Ah, it certainly is,” she agreed, making her way to the next aisle. “Be safe out there!”

“I’ll try.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing a bag of bacon strips off the shelf— the very thing you had ultimately came for. It should’ve taken you no more than 5 minutes to grab and go. But it wasn’t uncommon for you to take much longer and aimlessly wonder down multiple aisles only to get one or two things from the same aisle, though. You do it at every store you go to, if you can stand to be outside of your home or away from work.

After checking out, you made it a mission to stay present until your bus came. By the time you got home, you were more stable.. up until the bus driver— a sweet elderly man who’s been transporting you on this route for last couple of years, handed you a rose on your way down the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, young lady.”

You had the strength to give him a genuine smile, but as soon as you stepped off and the doors closed, and the bus engine picked back up and left you with a gust of wind, you broke again.

Taehyung always gave you a bouquet of blood red roses for Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sucker for them. And you still are, but sentiment wasn’t the only emotion to come now. They brought on an ache. A pain. A worry. A twinge of longing, but a fuckton of resentment.

You wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp at it.. better yet, you wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn while smoking a much needed cigarette. But first, you need to see your dog. You know she’s just as anxious to see you.

You trudged up to your door and was quick to unlock it... but frowned when you didn’t see her on the other side. Maybe it was because your ears were ringing again from how worked up you’d just gotten. But usually, the mere sound of your key twisting at the lock would have her running to the and practically beating it down, and you’d opened to see her gleefully wining out and wagging her tail.

But she wasn’t there.

“Sweetpea?” You called out, making it a point to swing the door shut behind you. Still, nothing—

Whimpering. You heard her whimpering and your head snapped over to the hallway. Your heart began to race. Your bed door was open, as always, and you could hear her in there but she wasn’t coming out. Only whimpering for you to come to her.

Fearing the worst, thinking perhaps she’d hurt herself to the extent that she couldn’t move, you barged down the hallway and listened with a sickening sense of uneasiness as her whimpering turned to muffled howls.

“Sweetpea, wha—“

You screamed. Sheer horror and white-hot adrenaline erupted through your veins and scorched your nerve endings, leaving you numb in the limb to the impact of the floor beneath your kneecaps. All you could feel was the volcanic eruption of despair in your chest and the strain in your diaphragm.

Sweetpea was okay, but very much in danger. She had a muzzle on, and her big, canopy-like ears were peeled back and her big, doughy eyes were wildly beading dead at you as she struggled and pawed at the carpet, watching you fall to you fall out. She was so worried to get to you but she couldn’t, do to the death grip of the man who was holding her by a leash. She couldn’t even interpret the lethality of the weapon that was also aimed at the back of her head— a glock you specially recall being the weapon of choice when Taehyung pistol whipped a man’s head open before emptying all twelve rounds in his magazine into his face.

Now, all you could envision was the same being done to that sweet face and big, bulbous head.

You screamed out and wailed even louder, not even looking at the intruder or registering who it was. Because you already fucking knew and in your mind it was too late.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, making you and Sweetpea flinch. You stopped screaming but your breath was ragged beyond your control. Your vision was bouncing between his fierce scowl and Sweetpea’s fearsome one. You dove forward, intending to crawl and beg but two pairs of shoes stepped out from where they’d been standing behind the door, and their hands gripped you by the biceps before hauling you up to your feet. You didn’t even try to resist them. You knew better than that. But fear still had you discombobulated and speaking out to yourself, feeling incredibly dizzy and disarrayed.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“You’re not dreaming.” Taehyung snarled, palm itching to slap some sense into you. But even within the three years he’s spent in bitterness, it didn’t change the morality he did have in relations to you. He’d never hit you out of anger.

But then he realized the real reason why you were saying that, when your knees suddenly gave out and the hold his men had on you became the only thing keeping you up right as you fainted out. He didn’t realize you still had that problem, and it hurt him to see that now.

Back when he had you in his possession, you had accidentally witnessed an execution down in the basement of his mansion. It was the first time you fainted, a d your body came toppling down a good ten-or-so steps, which were made of cement, and you were lucky to have only broken your nose and dislocated your shoulder.

Guilt crashed over him, suddenly. He meant to terrorize you in a way that wasted little time to gain submission, but he didn’t mean to trigger your PTSD— although he knew it was likely. Given the resolve, he put the gun back in its holster and stood up, beckoning for Yoongi to take the leash. Jungkook easily held you up by the waste and waited to pass you off to your fiancé before bringing your wrists behind your back. You slowly came to as he did so, and your head lolled back up only for your entire body to snap back into attention all at once, now that you were face to face with the Devil himself.

“Come on, you fucking idiot!”

Your head snapped over and you began to panic again as Yoongi fought with your, trying to drag her over to her cage by the leash. She was putting up one hell of a fight and audibly wheezing from the choke, her eyes now bulging as she looked at you.

You bucked against the both of them, your maternal instincts causing you to go feral as you saw red.

“QUIT! YOU’RE FUCKING CHOKING HER, YOU FUCKING PRICK! PICK HER UP!”

“She’s too squirmy!” He shouted back, the shock of your outburst causing him to lose tension and Sweetpea lunged the both of them forward. Tae was shouting at Jungkook to hurry with the restraints and squeezing you tighter, but you were kicking and flailing like a fish out of water now.

“MAKE HIM STOP!” You cried out, but was forcefully silenced by the gigantic hand that grabbled around the entire bottom half of your face— including your nose. Having been in this situation before, knowing his antics, you knew he wasn’t going to let you breathe again until you did as told. So you were forced to settle down but was still desperately pleading with your eyes, crying as your dog continued to heave against the menstruations.

“Yoongi, for fuck sake, the dog is 50 pounds. Just pick her up and put your in the kennel.” Tae stressed, eyes still locked with yours.

With a grunt, Yoongi tackled your dog and trapped her in a bear hug, snatching her up off the ground. You wanted to scream at him again but you were actually starting to struggle for oxygen, chest jolting with an involuntary attempts to inhale.

“Alright, they’re on. I just gotta link them.”

Tae’s hand finally dropped and you hacked out, swallowing as much air as you could. Now that Sweetpea was safely in her cage, you had time to worry about your own safety, but the look on his face wasn’t giving off such a merciful vibe.

“You do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I won’t fight back... but if you hurt my dog—“

“If I hurt your fucking dog, it’ll just be tough shit for you. I’ll still do whatever the hell I want and unless you need me to prove that, I suggest you stop with ultimatums..” he chuckled, but it sounded so cold and twisted. He was on the verge of snapping, and was fighting to keep as much composure as he could right now, for your sake.

But he was on a heist right now, you readied yourself for the unknown when he punctuated his sentence by grappling your throat with the same, vandalized and accessorized hand he just smothered you with— fingers digging in at the sides. Your breathing was once again constricted and your eyes reddened in strain, your voice dying out.

Tae may not beat you, but he knows your worse fear is dying by suffocation. Hence, why he’s so big in breath play.

“Can you?” He reiterated, snarling his teeth at you and revealing the top and bottom pair of golden, fang-shaped plates framing his pearly white canine teeth. Back in the day, you found them so extravagant and tasteful, but now you found them all the more threatening.

He waited until your eyes began fluttered back before letting go again, and Jungkook’s body was the only thing that saved you from falling back. You never understood why, but for some reason, Jungkook was the only person Tae allowed to be in closer range of you, even when it wasn’t necessary. He even reminded you of that when Yoongi had stepped a little too close and Taehyung shot a glare over to him that had him taking a couple steps back. But Jungkook was apparently free to stand there, holding you up even as you regained your footing. You feared that one day it will all make sense, but for now, you were thankful that he was there to at least to save you from collapsing.

It’d be great if they weren’t even fucking here, at all.

“Go put the kennel in the car— not on the seats, though. Hobi will kill me if I fuck up the interior.”

“Please let me rehouse her.” You begged, cringing as his eyes returned to you. They looked even more colorless than before. “I’ll come with you, but I don’t want her there with us.”

“She’s fine. As long as she doesn’t shit and piss everywhere and doesn’t chew any of my shit, or try to attack me, I’ll let you keep her.”

“You were just holding a fucking gun to her head, Taehyung. Please let me rehouse her. My friend Baley will take her. All I gotta do is leave her in the cafe with a note— I have the keys. I’ll even let you write the fucking note yourself and we can go...” It was significantly getting harder to speak, now that your airways were irritated and your unsteady emotions were only making it worse.

You had already accepted your fate, but had a twinge of hope left that he’d at least hear you out on that request. His features had softened into a crestfallen display of guilt, and remorse. But your faith in him shattered all over again when he stubbornly shook his head and reached for the gun again. You were just about to throw another fit until he pulled the magazine out and showed it to you.

It was empty, until he pocketed it and pulled out a fully-loaded one and clipped it into place, before putting it back in the holster.

He tricked you, and although it was still pretty fucking evil, you were relieved. He never intended to shoot her and wouldn’t have been able to, even if his finger applied enough pressure on the trigger. But you were still very much in the midst of an abduction, and you still hated this man for what he was doing to you now.

“Why are here?” You croaked.

“To come get you and our new pet,” he announced, faking the enthusiasm before reinforcing his glare. “I’m... incredibly pissed about the fact that abandoned me.. but even more so offended by the negligence to stay updated.”

His eyes then caught the flash of a blue light at your ear. Your hearing aid was dying and faintly peeping in your ear. The remembrance had his entire demeanor shift to a sullen one, like a switch.

“But at the same time—“ his voice had fallen into a lower pitch, almost to the point of being a whisper as he stepped closer and easily molded his hands around your face. You suddenly felt fragile, but not in a way that made you giddy, like it use to. Now, you had to swallow down the bile in your throat and fight against the nausea as his suddenly lips came near.

“—It’s really hard take that out on you, when I can’t even blame you for it. But It’s been three fucking years, honey. Three. How could you not even have enough concern for my well being, to not even send a fucking post card? Did you really think you‘d never see me again, and that you had snuck away from me? I knew what you were doing, and where you were going before you even boarded your fucking flight.”

“You’re suppose to be in jail. I thought you were letting me go.”

“First of all, you didn’t even know the original plan to think that it had failed. All my charges have been dropped and the suspicion of my involvement dismissed. Namjoon has been found guilty and is now serving that sentence, like I had initially plotted from the beginning. You never knew shit to fucking assume anything!”

You glared at him despite the jolt that came with his drastic notch in volume, and not your tongue as he went on.

“But I did allow you to leave the country, but only to give you space and to let you touch base with... whatever the fuck it is that you still find valuable here. I didn’t think I’d have to clarify the circumstances of your stay, but for you to not even reach out.. and the fact you got some shitty, minimum wage job on top of it all, when you still have access to the saving account I’ve put in your name.. You really thought we were over? You haven’t even checked the news articles to see any updates on the case. I’ve been out for a week!”

He was still holding your face but his hands were shaking and the pressure was increasing again. He always pulls back and regains control over his temper before inflicting harm, but it’d be foolish to not expect him to one day lose that control. He’s hurt you on ‘accident’ before. He’s slaughtered many people, more than you’ll ever know to keep count. Nothing is sacred.

But now, you are a lot more contempt and able to tolerate the fear of him hurting you on impulse, being as Sweetpea was out of harms way and no longer in the room. You were still shaking though and had closed your eyes, bracing for it. But the jerk of shock only came when his suddenly lips covered your’s, and Jungkook finally backed away.

The kiss only lasted about three solid seconds before he pulled back, and was heavily panting through his nose. You dared to look up and caught a glimpse of the physical pain marring his features. His eyes had gone watery and his jaw began ticking like a time bomb, nostrils flaring and chest rising. He pressed his forehead against your’s and snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, trying to fight off his own sobs and choking on them more and more with each second.

“You hate me.. you haven’t even missed me.” His voice was so thickened by his emotions that it deepened the natural richness he already had, making it sound contorted and almost inhuman. A tear dropped down his nose bridge and hit your quivering lips, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fight back the heart wrenching burn it inflicted on you.

How could you still feel anything for this man? It can’t be. It just fucking can’t be..

But it was. You were so bewildered and petrified by the oncoming sympathy that it stunned you into a froze state of shock. He kissed you again, thinking it was a show of fear for own safety— and he was right to interpret the fear, but it was with different cause. He was steadily conjuring up feelings that you wished you could’ve watched burn, like you had intended to do with the rose your bus driver gave you. But here you were, heart bleeding for him.

You still didn’t reciprocate the kiss but it brought on more involuntary anguish.. you cried harder and so did he, and as he leaned your head back to kiss at your neck, you stared in perplexing awe at the gigantic bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand.

“It’s okay. I‘ve missed you too fucking much to punish you now.” He calmed, and took a good 30 seconds to regain his composure. There was still a groggy undertone in his next words, but once again, he was back in his domineering mindset. “But I ain’t cutting you that much slack.”

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you back, straight into Jungkook for the nth time. He heatedly wiped at his eyes and stepped back, and it was the first time you took in how much more muscular and rigid he’d become over the years.

Before, he was a lot more slender and you’re certain that the very shirt he’s wearing now use to be at least 2 sizes too big on him before.. however, the black silk was skin-tight and clinging to the humps of his biceps, and straining around the buttons between his pectorals. His skin was more pale than ever before but now you could see a tattoo curving along his temple, arcing aside the edge of his pierced brow. The word that was written in elegant, cursive writing made your heart palpitate and your stomach twist even more.

Honey. That was your signature endearment. That was the name you’d given him in place of your real one the very night he met you, and asked for it.

This crazy motherfucker really is obsessed with you. How he can lie to you, deceive you, punish you and drive you fucking bonkers and stalk you down only in the act of what he calls love.. and for it to actually be a form of true—albeit dangerous love, was beyond you.

The scripture on his handsome, albeit matured face distracted you for a few seconds. You snapped out of it when Jungkook suddenly hauled you up by the midsection and slammed you down on the bed, pinning his hand down between your shoulder blades and rendering you defenseless.

“What are you doing? Taehyung! Please! Get him off of me!”

“If I could trust you to stay still, I would.” His voice was neutral again, despite a offhanded sniff. You struggled to look back, but it was no use as he was standing out of view.

“Stay still for what?”

“Do you still have your ring?” He asked instead, ignoring you.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. Now tell me—“

“Told you she kept it,” Jungkook finally spoke— and just like it was back then, it was a very rare occurrence for when he did speak on your behalf. That’s another thing nobody else dared to do, unless asked. But knowing that he was the one stalking you for Taehyung made you all the more disturbed with him.

“Fucking creep. You’re hurting me!” you screamed at him, and he had the audacity to increase pressure. Tae said nothing, nor did he stop his friend from retaliating.

“I also know about your little affair with your coworker. Since when did you start swinging both ways?”

“What are you talking about?” You growled, and he only snorted in response.

“She knows you like her. She knows you stare at her ass every time she bends over and that you bend over on purpose to make her look at yours. She knows you like it when she slaps it.”

You, one again, went unmoving.

Jeon Jungkook is her fucking boyfriend.

“What does Jk even stand for?”

“Jackson. But he doesn’t like to be called Jackie, and you know how I am about nicknames. So I call him JK.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Jungkook. You leave her alone. Tae, don’t you let him—“

“Don’t you worry about me.”

“BALEY?!”

Baley walked into view, an unreadable expression on her face. The mere realization of what was happening finally over filled your mental tolerance and you brain suddenly launched you away from reality.

The beach. You were at the beach with your cousins, all of you a little over the age of 18. You were on spring break your senior year in highschool and talking about the future. Graduation. Prom. College~

“She’s zoned out.” Baley said, and Jungkook finally let go. You were indeed paralyzed and had completely dissociated, talking to yourself. Taehyung, with a fully-loaded syringe in his hand, leaned over to look at your face. Your pupils were dilated, eyes stargazing in general, lips softly moving as you babbled nonsense. He hated knowing that it was coming to this, but he swore he’d earn your forgiveness.

“I’m gonna get your ear fixed.. or at least get you a better device. We’re gonna be okay. We’re so fucking rich now, I don’t even know what to do with all our money— only to turn it into more. I won’t have to work as much. We can get married, have the best fucking honey moon we can imagine. We can get started on a family. I’ll win your dog over, too. I promise.”

He sank the needle into your bicep, and you didn’t even flinch. Only blinked in rhythm as a tear fell.

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.” You incoherently muttered, having said that to your friend, Jessica, on the beach.

It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. Whatever memory you were reliving at the moment, was quite sometime before you actually began your classes for such profession. He bent down and kissed your cheek one last time as he injected the entirety sedation serum into your system and pulled it out. But you were oblivious to it all.

“I think I’m smart enough...”

”You’re very book smart, baby. But you’re probably gonna drop out after three semesters and become a bar tender at a strip club, because you’re not fit to be a homicidal investigator. You’re too soft.”

“I’m not..”

“You sure?”

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.”

“Well, you’re gonna become my wife before you become anything else.”

“Ew, don’t even play like that. You’re my cousin.”

“Jeez..” Baley muttered. “You really have driven her a little bat-shit, huh? This is way more disturbing than I anticipated—“

“Babe, lets go sit in the car. Come on,” Jungkook hurried, pulling her out of the room.

Taehyung continued to whisper sweet nothings into your deafened ear, but the last night you heard before it all went blank was the perfect, bittersweet saying that bidded you goodbye for the night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey.”

[sapphicscholar]

Fic Preview:

Charles breaks things off with Cat in October. She doesn’t think she even knows the exact date. It’s all a blur—one fall day after another, broken up by the long weekends she cherishes with Carter, and apparently no longer punctuated with dinner dates and breakfasts in bed and a guaranteed date on her arm at DC functions too numerous to count.

By Halloween, the press has figured out she is no longer attached. It’s not National City with throngs of paparazzi swarming her and shoving flashing cameras in her face, but news gets around just the same.

Kara shows up one evening in early November, a bottle of wine tucked under her arm and a resolved expression on her face—as if there exists a world in which Cat turns her away.

“I suppose you want to come in?” Cat opens the door wider and gestures at the hallway. She wishes she’d turned the light on before opening the door. It looks emptier than usual, desolate and dreary in ways she’d prefer Kara not see.

The living room is comfortable enough, traces of her work and Carter’s presence scattered here and there, and Kara brightens the space, adds signs of life to a half-occupied room in a rented house that feels much too large for one woman.

“Is Carter here?” Kara asks, glancing at some sci-fi novel he’d left on the coffee table.

“Next weekend,” Cat manages.

“Oh?”

She takes a deep breath, figures there’s only one way to stop this line of questioning. At least only one way that keeps Kara on her couch. “He wasn’t settling in here. He’s…shy, but this was more than that.” She swallows heavily. “He’s staying with his father for the rest of the school year.”

“Shoot, I’m sorry, Ms. Grant.” Kara inches closer to Cat, raises a hand toward her before dropping it back to her own lap and picking at the worn denim of her jeans.

Cat lifts her shoulders in a shrug and manages a tight smile. “Yes, well. He’s happy—or, happier. That’s what matters. And I think when you’re in my home you can manage to call me Cat.”

“Right.” Kara ducks her head down and gives Cat a soft smile when she glances up again. “And you?”

Arching an eyebrow, Cat gazes back at Kara.

“How are you? I, um, heard the news.”

“Mm,” Cat hums. “Charles wanted something else from a relationship. More, perhaps, than I gave.”

“Charlie’s an idiot.”

It nearly pulls a smile from Cat.

“I brought wine. I wasn’t sure if this was an ice cream and romcoms kind of breakup, but I figured a drink might still be welcome.”

“And here I was, so craving a good Nancy Meyers film.”

“Really? I can just run to—” Kara cuts herself off at the smirk pulling up the corners of Cat’s mouth. “It’s rude to take the name of Nancy in vain, Cat.”

Read the rest on AO3! And go check out the whole May Queen collection, too! Be sure to leave comments and kudos for all the creators!

[sunsetcurbed]

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie  Words: 3,355  Rating: T  Chapter Warnings: none  Chapter: 3/11  read on AO3 

Chapter Summary:  By the time he's done getting ready it's nearly 9:15, which gives him forty-five minutes to eat breakfast and get to Julie's.

He heads to the kitchen and freezes.

Scratch that.

Which gives him forty-five minutes to avoid his mom and grandmother, eat breakfast, and get to Julie's.

(*) 

He wakes up the next morning feeling particularly exhausted. He didn't fall asleep until sometime after two the night before which, for most people on a Friday night wouldn't be an issue but for Alex, was an issue because he has band practice at ten, so his alarm wakes him up at 8:30.

He groans when the annoyingly chipper ringtone starts playing from his nightstand and presses his head into his pillow. He stays like that for a minute before accepting his fate and reaches an arm over and grabs his phone off the table. He silences the alarm and turns over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. Yesterday had been one of the most mentally exhausting days he could remember, and yet, it had ended on such a high note that his mind was having a hard time categorizing it.

On one hand, the one and a half panic attacks were… not ideal. They took a lot out of him. And having to wrestle with the idea of him being a prince? That was a thought that didn't leave him alone. But on the other—walking around LA drinking tea with Willie talking about nothing, singing along to the radio in his car as he drove them around, calling out scores for his tricks at the skate park, sitting on the same side of the booth at Chipotle just because they're used to it from school, but most importantly, the face Willie made when he pulled into Alex's driveway. It was so happy and so reluctant, like Willie was thinking the same thing as Alex—that the day had been so nice, but that he didn't want it to end. Alex didn't get home until nine, and when he did, he simply gave his mom a raised eyebrow and went to his bedroom and locked his door. She tried knocking and yelling through his door multiple times the rest of the night, but Alex slipped in a pair of ear buds and put on Netflix and waited until well after midnight to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth.

So, yeah, Alex isn't sure where he sits with yesterday.

He sits up in his bed and throws his legs over the side, and goes about getting ready for the day. By the time he's done it's nearly 9:15, which gives him forty-five minutes to eat breakfast and get to Julie's.

He heads to the kitchen and freezes.

Scratch that.

Which gives him forty-five minutes to avoid his mom and grandmother, eat breakfast, and get to Julie's.

He walks past them without a comment to get a frozen breakfast sandwich out of the freezer and puts it in the microwave. Ava calls out a cheery hello from the living room and he calls one back as he gets a glass of water and grabs his anxiety medication, tipping a pill into his hand. He tosses it back and chases it down with water.

"Alex," his mom tries.

The microwave beeps.

Alex goes over and opens it, careful of the hot sandwich within the paper towel. He picks it up gingerly and unwraps it, but leaves it set to cool for a minute, grabbing a handful of almonds while he waits.

"Alexander," his grandmother commands.

Alex crunches a mouthful of almonds pointedly.

"Alex, they're calling you," Ava says from the living room.

"Oh, are they?" he hums, disinterested. "I didn't hear anything."

"Alex, please," his mom goes again. "Just give us a chance, okay?"

Alex looks at her and raises an eyebrow. He looks at the clock. It's twenty after nine. "I have to leave in twenty minutes. That's what you get."

His mom breathes out a sigh of relief. She jumps straight in. "I know you must be wondering why we didn't tell you. When your dad and I divorced, we thought we would both remarry, both have more children. You know how that turned out for him though. But… our number one priority was you growing up with a normal childhood. All I knew was I couldn't… I couldn't handle the primness and rules and I didn't want my child to have to grow up in that world and have to miss out on so many parts of childhood and Fred agreed with me. So we all agreed that distance was the best thing for all of us, especially when Mike came into the picture."

"Were you ever going to tell me, if he hadn't died?" Alex demands.

"We were going to tell you when you turned eighteen," his mom nods. "We even tried to wait, still, but… circumstances moved that up."

Alex frowns and turns to his grandmother. "And you? You were okay with this all?"

She flips her hands over so her palms are facing the ceiling but the way she holds her hands is still elegant rather than how most people would appear helpless. "It's not like I could disagree, now could I? I would be going against your parents' wishes, against my son's wishes. Of course I wish I could have known you, but I do understand their intentions, to an extent."

Right. He supposes she would be the most innocent party out of all of them. At least, that is, if she weren't expecting him to drop his entire life to go rule an entire country. He turns back to his mom and watches her. She crosses her arms over her chest and ducks her chin to her chest. "I'm sorry that our decision hurt you," she says slowly. "That was never our intention. We wanted to protect you."

"Right," Alex nods. He picks up his sandwich, which has cooled down considerably now. "Okay. Was that all, or?"

"Not quite," his grandmother says, holding up a finger. "I have something I would like to discuss with you."

He takes a bite of his breakfast. "Shoot."

She grimaces. "December 21st… there's an annual ball. I had the hope to present you as Prince Alexander at this ball."

From the living room, Ava gasps.

Alex swallows his bite of his sandwich and flicks his eyes towards where his sister is. She's holding onto her tablet, but it's completely forgotten in her hands as she stares into the kitchen with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He turns back to his grandmother and shakes his head. "I told you yesterday, I wouldn't make a good prince. Again, I'm barely a functioning human."

Footsteps come running into the kitchen. "Prince?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex huffs, ruffling Ava's hair. She's twelve now—right at the age where she's starting to care about him messing up her hair. She squeaks and ducks away from him and fixes her hair and looks at his grandmother.

"Did you say Alex is a Prince?" Ava asks.

"He is, my dear," his grandmother smiles and Ava shrieks. Alex's hands fly to his ears, nearly dropping his breakfast in the process and his mom is quick to yell at Ava, silencing her effectively.

"Does that mean I'm a princess?"

"I'm afraid not," his grandmother says apologetically. "Alexander is a prince on his father's side, and you two share different fathers."

"Oh—that's okay!" Ava turns to Alex. "You're a prince!"

"Not for long," Alex says, reaching over to tussle her hair again.

"That is… what I wanted to talk to you about," his grandmother says softly. "I already mentioned lessons once, but if we work with you until the ball… with some instruction, I really think you would surprise yourself as well, Alexander."

Alex shakes his head, laughing. "Prince lessons?" Next to him, Ava squeals again, but this time it's much softer. He looks down at her to find her beaming up at him, looking like she's a second away from clapping her hands together, too. Alex rolls his eyes.

His mom steps forward. "Yes, prince lessons." She looks between him and his grandmother and narrows her eyes. "Alex, why don't you give them a shot, okay? You're not committing to anything, you're not saying you'll be king of Beasiga one day by going to these lessons, they're just what they are at face value: lessons."

Alex narrows his eyes back at her. He knows his mom. He's gotten pretty good at reading into her unspoken words over the last sixteen years. He goes over her words again in his head and tries to find the hidden message—he's pretty sure it's a silent 'yet' added to 'you're not committing to anything'—but he can't be sure. "Okay… And?"

"And you keep your mind open." Yup. Yet. Alex holds back his scoff, because that'd be an immediate give away. "That's all. Lessons, and keep your mind open."

"Okay," Alex says, and takes another bite of his sandwich. It's cold now. He frowns, and looks at Ava who is next to him, now hopping up and down.

"Shall we start tomorrow?" his grandmother asks.

Alex scoffs. "No. Tomorrow's Halloween, I have a gig. We can start Monday. I have band practice Wednesdays and Saturdays though, so make sure you don't schedule anything on those days. I'll let you know if we book any other gigs."

His grandmother looks at his mom, confused expression on her face. "Gigs?"

"Uh… events. Shows. Where they play."

"Ah," she nods, looking back to Alex. "What sort of band do you play in? You mentioned the band yesterday but not your music."

Alex raises his eyebrows, surprised at her interest. Then he thinks—it could be because it could be considered a royal scandal. Oh, isn't that a thought. His life could be considered a royal scandal now. "Uh—we started out more as rock, but lately we've been more pop-rock inclined," he says. Then, because he can, he says, "We're actually playing a nightclub in a few weeks if you'd want to see us play. There's a VIP box that I doubt anyone has rented out for our show since we're still up and comers."

He's not expecting her to perk up. "Oh, I would love that. You'll have to give me the information and I'll see what I can have John do."

"O… kay." He glances at the clock as he takes another bite of his cold sandwich. Somehow, even though it feels like it's been an eternity, only six minutes have passed. He moves over to the kitchen table and takes a seat, finishing off his sandwich in a few bites, and just barely keeps himself from groaning when his grandmother takes a seat across the table from him. He picks up his phone and starts scrolling through it, when she asks him a question about his Rothfuss book sitting over on the coffee table. He looks over at her and frowns. "How'd you know it was mine?"

She smiles, gentle and kind, and not at all like a women who is out to ruin his life. "You mentioned yesterday that you were an avid reader, and that fantasy was one of your favorite genres. I assumed from there."

Alex nods. "Have you read it? I mean… to know that it was fantasy…"

"I have," she nods. "I make sure to spend at least an hour a day with leisure reading, though I must admit when I'm not very busy it usually ends up being more than that. How do you feel about Kvothe?"

Alex's first reaction is surprise due to hearing his grandmother say 'Kvothe' because she pronounces it completely differently than he has been reading it in his head. His second reaction is also surprise, due to her asking his opinion on a book he's reading. But then he supposes this… this is really where it had seemed their relationship had been heading. There was such an ease when they were getting to know each other yesterday, and she never made him feel like anything he said didn't matter. Yesterday she wanted to hear about his life, down to the smallest detail, and today, she wanted to hear about his opinion about an asshole Kingkiller. It was hard to reconcile that version of his grandmother with the version that told him he was a prince—that implied he'd be moving to Beasiga and ruling without giving him any say.

Sitting here talking about a book he was reading though, after just having agreed to prince lessons, the two were starting to merge. They were still different, but more overlapped now, rather than two completely separate entities. She was his grandmother, yes, and she had interest in his life. Yet she was also Queen Louisa of Beasiga, and had a duty to her country. Alex supposes he can't be too upset at her for wanting him to be prince—after all, if he declines, that means their family's reign is over. Of course, of course she'd want him to be prince. He can excuse her for being a little bit pushy at first. He relaxes into the chair, and the two images of his grandmother merge together even more.

And then he looks at the clock. He's in the middle of a sentence when he does, not having expected so much time to have passed, but when he sees that it's quarter 'til ten, he stands up so quickly that his chair falls backwards. "Shit!" he curses, bending down to pick it back up and then running to the door. "Sorry, grandma, gonna be late for band practice, gotta go! We'll finish this later!"

Alex skids his bike into Julie's driveway with a minute to spare and rushes into the studio. Reggie, Luke, and Julie call out happy hellos when Alex enters, and he echoes one back. Julie's watching him from her seat at the piano and he sends her a quick nod, telling her he's okay after their phone call yesterday. She had texted him in the evening, but he had been out with Willie, so he had told her he'd text her later and then… never did.

"Hey, uh, before we start," Alex says as he sits on his stool, "just so you guys know, my grandma is in town for the new few months, so I'll be spending some time with her. I told her no Wednesdays or Saturdays, and I told her no days we have gigs, but just a heads up, I'll be around a little less."

"Wait," Reggie frowns. "Your grandma? Didn't both your grandmas pass away?"

"Uh—my maternal grandma and then my stepdad's mom did."

"So…" Luke drawls. "Your dad's mom is in town?"

Alex swallows, then nods. "Uh, yeah. You know, I think I told you guys he passed away in July, right?" With three nods, he carries on. "Right, so, I'm the only family she has left now. So, I mean. It makes sense, right? She just… wants to get to know me, I guess."

"Aw," Reggie coos, "that's sweet. Have you met her yet? Is she nice?"

"No, yeah, she's great. Uh, she, uh, loves reading, just like me. She, uh, she's been great."

"That's awesome, man," Luke says, sounding genuinely pleased. Ever since he made up with his parents over the summer after his six month estrangement with them, Luke has put the value of family above just about everything else. (Just about. Luke's parents had to compromise that music was in their son's life and that it was there to stay.)

Julie, however, is quiet. She is staring at him with pursed lips, and he is sure she had plenty of questions—and he is sure she has connected his near panic attack yesterday evening to his grandma. He looks at her and pulls his eyebrows together, letting his head tilt slightly. Pleading and promise. Please don't let them know and I promise I'll fill you in. He sees the moment Julie gives in as her shoulders relax and she gives him a fake, but still warm, smile. "That's great, Alex. Will we get to meet her?"

Oh, shit.

"Uh," Alex squeaks, "maybe? She, uh, she—she might. You. You might. I'm really not sure? We'll have to see."

It's a testament to how long his friends have been around Alex and his anxiety that they don't think his rambling and stammering are odd or out of place here. Except Julie. She knows, but not because of his rambling and stammering. Sure, the guys know about his panic attack because Julie had texted the group, but Julie is too smart not to use that information now, while the guys had let it go once they knew Alex was safe. So Alex, seeing that Julie is still focused on him, gives her a shrug and suggests they get started on practice, which Luke and Reggie eagerly agree to, and Julie nods along to as well.

They practice, write, practice, eat, practice, write, practice, goof off, practice, eat more, and then practice more. By 4:15, they all lay on the floor of the studio going over the set list for tomorrow for what feels like the hundredth time, but they're nothing if not thorough with their sets. They're debuting Finally Free tomorrow, which they played through fully for the first time today, so they're all nervous about that, but excited, too. There's a current running through the entire group, like static electricity—he feels like if he were to touch one of them he'd be shocked. He always feels like this before a gig, there's just so much pent up energy within their group, only for it to explode on stage at their gig. He thinks it is part of what makes them so good. Through all of this, he can almost forget about… everything else. He does, even.

Reggie's mom comes to pick him up about ten minutes later, and Luke runs inside to play Carlos in MarioKart five minutes later, leaving only Alex and Julie. Alex rolls on to his stomach and pushes his torso off the floor, pulling his legs beneath him and hopping up, ready to bid Julie goodbye when she stops him. The look on her face is what brings everything rushing back. He sighs.

"What happened yesterday?" she asks in a quiet voice, standing in front of him, arms hanging loosely at her sides. She's completely open to him, and he feels his stomach twist knowing that he's about to lie to, or at least not be completely honest with, her.

Alex brings a hand up and runs it through his hair, sending his eyes to the chairs on the ceiling before looking back to Julie. "It—it really wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, I promise. I just… I got some news, that I can't share, that shocked me. Me, my mom, and my grandma talked about it before practice this morning, so… it's fine."

"All right… Are you okay, though?"

Alex doesn't answer immediately, because he learned a long time ago that if he didn't give Julie an honest, thought out answer to these kinds of questions then she would end up pressing. Gently pressing, but pressing, nonetheless. So he thinks—really thinks—about how he is. He thinks about how he felt getting the news, and how his heart lost its rhythm in his chest for so long, until Willie was able to set it right again. Until Willie was able to take all the panic and anxiety and hurt that Alex was feeling and flip it, take it and turn it into release and laughter and a sense of okayness. Then he thinks of this morning, where he made a deal, one that he can keep until he can confidently step back from his role as prince without a fight from his grandmother and then move forward with his life as if this entire thing never happened. And he thinks of being surrounded by Luke, Reggie, and Julie, and how everything else had just melted away, how it had been like yesterday hadn't even happened, how it had been like he wasn't even a prince, not even now.

And he, well.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

[puckyeahobx]

in the middle of the party b*tch get off of me

a/n: here’s some jj for you guys....this is a personal favorite of mine and very much so inspired by the one tik tok he posted where he had handcuffs O.o

summary: y/n and jj go to college together and celebrate halloween at his frat house <3 sexiness ensues

warnings: nsfw duh 

It wasn’t that you thought JJ was dumb, but it was moreso that you thought JJ was focused on other things like fixing cars, finding the best weed in a fifty mile radius, and taking care of his friends. His criminal record also didn’t necessarily lend itself to an academic lifestyle either, now that you thought about it...but JJ had never ceased to amaze you as long as you had known him, so I guess you really should not have been shocked when he showed up on your doorstep with an acceptance letter to North Carolina State. He said it had nothing to do with you thinking of going there too, but you knew better. 

High school ending had really been freaking him out even if he had tried not to show it. His friends were the one thing that had kept him grounded all of these years and he wasn’t sure what would become of him once you all went your separate ways. Luckily, though, you ended up choosing NC State. They had the best program for your major out of everywhere you applied and had offered you a decent chunk of cash. It had nothing to do with JJ going there...obviously. 

Kie was at UNC Chapel Hill, Pope at Duke, and John B was on a gap year, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do, which left you and JJ to your own devices your freshman year. It was a big school and you both found groups of people you liked, JJ with his frat brothers (also a huge shock to you, but the guys in his frat were actually really cool and pretty pogue-like, he wouldn't be caught dead in a kook infested frat) and fellow social services majors, you with your roommates and friends from classes, but you two always ended up spending the most time with each other anyway. It didn’t take very long into your freshman year to realize that old habits really do die hard. Whether it was walking to class together, eating in the dining hall, studying in the library, you guys were always together. Sometimes your new friends joined you guys, but more often than not when you weren’t in your dorms you were alone together. This wasn’t an issue for you, of course. Just like the rest of the world, you had been into JJ since you first met him. And lately, through all the alone time and leaning on each other, it became clear that he might maybe feel the same way.

It was the small things like how his hand rested on your back when he walked up behind you or when his arm fell on your shoulders when you sat on your shitty dorm futon together or how anytime one of his friends flirted with you in front of you his jaw clenched and he suddenly was at a loss for his usual sarcastic banter. But you were getting ahead of yourself, right? You two were each other’s rocks at this time. It was probably all platonic like it had always been. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t push the limits of friendship and have a little fun from time to time, did it? No, no it didn’t. So when Halloween came creeping around the corner, you made sure you had your fun.

JJ’s frat was obviously throwing a party in celebration of the holiday, because if there’s one thing frat guys love it’s alcohol and almost-naked girls - the true nature of Halloween. It was a costume party but that was pretty much code for “Show as much skin as possible”, so you went for the classic angel look. A white bra, a white mini skirt you found at the back of your friend’s closet, and Party City wings. It was truly innovative. You tried to make it look like you actually tried by hot gluing some rhinestones on your bra and doing your hair and makeup all ethereal and sexy, but you knew that as soon as you stepped into that disgusting, sweaty frat house you would somehow go from an 11 to a solid 7 and that was just something you were going to have to be ok with. It was always dark anyway.

You didn’t arrive at the party until a little after ten because your friend went a little too hard at the pregame and had already vomited all over her devil lingerie, so you all had to deal with that mess before tucking her into bed and escaping out the door before things could get worse. But after many texts and snaps from JJ harassing you for keeping him waiting, you were finally there and your stomach was flipping with nerves. JJ refused to reveal what he was dressed up as, saying it was a surprise, and you just couldn’t wait to see him as someone else, hoping he’d see you as someone else tonight too. Someone he wanted to be with. 

The music was heard from the front lawn as you stepped out of the uber and up the steps, waving to the pledge from your Comp 101 class, thankful that JJ had somehow weaseled out of his pledge duties for the night. Once you stepped inside you and your friends immediately scoped out your surroundings. There was a party going on in the main entrance and living room, but there was also lights and music coming from the basement, meaning JJ could literally be anywhere. Luckily, the ratio of guys to girls was positively halting so being able to single out a 6 foot man amongst a sea of girls shouldn’t be that hard.

And then, you saw him.

You almost fell over at the look of him. You could tell he had already started drinking and was a little sweaty by the sheen covering his face and the way his hair was standing up on its own, like it always did after he ran his hands through it. He was leaning against the wall, PBR in hand, assessing the crowd and laughing with the guy on his left. Your eyes travelled down from his hair and glowing skin to his neck and chest, both completely uncovered. He was in a navy button up that was incredibly tight around his biceps but only buttoned on the bottom two buttons. A gold badge was pinned over his right breast, and then it dawned on you. 

“You’re a fucking cop!” You punched his arm as you snuck up on him.

Startled and rubbing his arm, he softened when he saw who had just assaulted him. “Never thought you’d see the day, huh?”

“What happened to ACAB? Looks like someone’s all talk…”

He scoffed and threw his arm around your shoulder, walking with you towards the bar, “It’s called irony sweetheart. I thought a genius like you would understand that?”

You rolled your eyes and shook his arm off you, laughing at his remark (and trying to not focus on the “sweetheart” of it all), “So, what branch of the police force is it that allows their officers to walk around half naked?” You teased as you walked up to the bar, asking the frat brother in nothing but a cowboy hat and too short cut off jean shorts for a cup of whatever the drink was tonight. 

“Um the one with all the sexy stripper cops. They even gave me these,” You turn back around with your drink against your lips and you nearly spat it out when you saw what he was talking about. He had a pair of what looked like actual handcuffs dangling off his pointer finger, “Fully functional,” he finished with a wink.

You gulped and hoped he didn’t notice, “Very impressive, does the rest of the force know about the stash of weed in the loose floorboard in your dorm room?”

His face, and the handcuffs, fell. “You’re no fun, Y/N. It’s Halloween! You can be anything you want! And tonight, I’m the only cop that isn’t a bastard.”

You laughed at his mini outburst and put your hand on his cheek sweetly, still laughing. “You’re right I’m sorry. You make a very non-bastard cop. It suits you.”

“I always have looked good in blue.”

Lightly smacking him you rolled your eyes again and brought your hand back to your cup, looking at him as you took a big drink. He was looking directly back at you. You finished off the cup and tossed it at the overflowing trash can, “Let’s dance. I love this song.” This was a lie, you had never heard this song before in your life, but you just wanted an excuse to grab his hand and drag him on the dance floor. 

Everyone around you was dancing ass to dick, going absolutely stupid in a true intoxicated fashion, but you weren’t nearly drunk enough for that yet. So, instead, you and JJ did what you always did was just jump and scream at each other, throwing in some limb flailing every now and then. If you were really lucky, he would throw in the sprinkler every now and then. This was all fine and dandy, a couple of songs deep, until you felt your elbow accidentally collide with something rock hard, immediately followed by something wet splashing all over your back.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-” you said, spinning around, mortified. You were met with the biggest man you had ever seen in your life who did not look very happy to see you looking back at him. But, considering his eyes looked glazed over, you figured that had less to do with you and more to do with the fact that he was probably off something far out of your league. 

“Fucking watch where you’re going next time,” He gruffed at you as he jerked the arm you had hit away.

You were stunned by how aggressive he was, “I’m- I’m sor-”

But before you could stutter out an apology, JJ was pushing you behind him, puffing his chest out as he faced the roided-out gentleman giving you a death glare. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“She spilled my drink,” The giant said as if you had just murdered his dog.

“Yeah and this is a frat house, go turn on the faucet in the sink and I’m sure Captain Morgan will come out,” spat JJ.

Sasquatch scoffed and shook his head at JJ, “Just keep a better handle on your bitch, pledge. I don’t need some slut wasting all of our alc.”

“You son of a bitch.” You saw JJ’s arm wind back, his fist clenched ready to swing.

“JJ, no!” You grabbed his arm before he could do something seriously idiotic and didn’t let go of it until you had made your way off the dance floor and into the backyard. “What the fuck were you thinking, trying to throw a punch at that guy?! He looked like he eats whole goats for breakfast!”

His hands were running through his hair and he was pacing. You could tell he was trying not to punch the siding of the house - you had seen him worked up like this countless times over your near lifelong friendship. Loyalty was both his greatest strength as well as his greatest curse. “He called you a bitch, Y/N! And a slut! In the same breath!”

Looking at him now, his hair all messed up, his shirt still unbuttoned, and face as emotional as ever, you had never been more attracted to him. You closed the gap between the two of you and grabbed his face between your hands, “Thank you for trying to protect me, but I’d much rather be a bitch and a slut if it meant you weren’t pulverized by Bigfoot.”

At the feeling of your touch, his whole demeanor changed. You saw him swallow and take a breath, “Yeah, uh, well. You know. I’ll always protect you, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, ya know. I live to serve and protect you know,” chuckling half-heartedly as he tapped the badge on his chest. 

You tried to laugh along with him, but you were too busy staring from his lips to his eyes and focusing on the dizzying feeling of being so close to him. He made no effort to move out of your personal space and having him here, his back against the siding of the house, your hands on his strong jaw, you felt like maybe now was the time to bring up what you had been feeling these last couple of months. But before you could open your mouth to spill your guts, something in him snapped and he sprung forward at you. 

Suddenly, your hands were in his hair and his hands were on your waist and now you were the one with your back against the giant brick building, the bricks scratching deliciously against your exposed skin. You whined against his lips as he pressed against you, the sound apparently shocking him out of his trance because just as suddenly as it had started, he was pulling away, leaving you completely dazed, lips still half puckered as your eyes fluttered open. 

He was back to pacing, not daring to look at you. “God that was fucking stupid, I’m so sorry Y/N. You were just yelled at by some heavyweight douchebag and all I could do was not throw a punch and then I just had to go and kiss you like a fucking jackass,” he paused his pacing and looked at you, his face all screwed up with guilt, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

For a moment you considered the situation and didn’t move a muscle or say a word but then you just laughed. An eruption of manic giggles fell from your lips as you watched him go from guilt to confusion. “You’re a real fucking idiot you know that,” you managed to spit out between laughs.

“I mean, yeah, jackass, idiot...they’re one in the same I guess,” he seemed hurt by your words so you stepped closer to him again.

“No, God, shut up. You’re not a jackass. But you are an idiot. I don’t care that you kissed me,” you paused, “That’s not true. I care a lot, actually, because I loved it and I wish you wouldn’t have stopped because I was really starting to get into it after the, like, 12 longest, most torturous years of build up ever.”

He couldn’t believe the words you were saying, “Wait...so you- you like me?”

“What, you think I come to the frat parties for the mystery booze and trap music?”

Now it was his turn to laugh, his face completely breaking open in elation, “And to think I just assumed you were a party girl...turns out I’m just irresistible.”

“Oh shut up,” you sighed as you slammed your mouth against his again, pulling him down to your height. Once again his hands found their firm grip on your hips, holding on for dear life. 

And then he pulled away again.

“Stop fucking doing that. Kiss now talk later,” you tried to lean back in.

“No, uh, I just,” he cleared his throat, “I was just wondering if you wanted to take this inside maybe?”

You smiled up at him before kissing up his neck and whispering in his ear, “Whatever you want.”

He shivered and groaned, breaking away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside. You weren’t sure where he was taking you because, since he was a freshman, he didn’t live at the frat house or anything so it’s not like he had a bedroom. Not that it mattered. He could take you to a damn broom closet for all you cared. But he didn’t take you to a closet or even a vacant bathroom. You maneuvered around the sweaty crowd of people until you were back at the front of the house but this time going up the staircase where all the upperclassmen lived. 

“JJ what are we doing up here…” You asked with a slight edge of concern in your voice. 

His face was full of mischief as he looked back at you, smirk plastered across his lips. “Don’t worry about it baby, I’m just trying to find us somewhere a little more comfortable.” And with a wink, he was turning the knob on a door that definitely didn’t belong to him.

As far as frat boys went, you imagined this was a relatively well kept room. There were still some pizza boxes stacked on top of the desk and clothes spilling out of the closet but, all in all, it didn’t look infested or anything. 

“JJ, who’s room is this?” You asked as you saw him lock the door behind you. 

“Bigfoot’s,” he said with that same smirk on his face, complete and total pride practically bursting his seams. 

Your mouth dropped as you looked at him incredulously. JJ was always one for pranks and revenge, but this floored you. 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” You said in awe as he made his way back over to you.

“Maybe, but damn. What a way to go.” 

Then he was kissing you once more, but this time he had guided you back towards the bed and you were laying underneath him, his body hot and hard against yours, making it hard to breathe. His hands ventured from your hips to your hair and back down again, making sure to give your tits a squeeze on the way back down, pushing them back behind you to guide your ass up so he could get as close to you as possible. You were back to your gasping and whining as you felt the effect you had had on him through his pants, grinding against him in desperation. 

“Fuck you’re so fucking sexy, Y/N,” he moaned against your neck, leaving the slightest of nips along your jaw between kisses. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this or how many times I’ve thought of you exactly like this.”

“You can have me anyway you want. I’m yours,” You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying before the words left your mouth, but it didn’t make them any less true. 

He growled against your neck and grabbed you again, scooting you up towards the top of the mattress. His hands found yours wrapped around his neck and took them in his hands, pushing them above your head. 

“Anyway I want, huh?” He was sitting on his heels, looking down at you with hooded eyes. All you could do was nod. “Well, I do have these handcuffs, and it’d be a shame for them to go to waste.” You moaned at the implication and watched him unhook them from his shorts and attached them to your wrists, wrapping them around a bar of the headboard. “Told you they were fully functional,” he ended with a wink.

All you could do was whimper as he bent back down to kiss your lips and then your neck, taking a pit stop at your chest to move the cups of your bra aside enough for him to give plenty of kisses there as well, until he was finally trailing his tongue down your stomach. He looked up at you as he reached the waistband of your skirt. You nodded, “Please,” not even being mentally present enough to care about how desperate you sounded. 

“So polite,” he muttered as he pulled your skirt and panties down in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare to him. “So damn beautiful.”

Then he was on you like a starved man. JJ had always been popular amongst the ladies on the island and while you always assumed his looks and bad boy nature had been enough to seal the deal, you now know why they kept coming back. He was a fucking machine. Between the way his fingers fucked you skillfully, knowing exactly where your g-spot was on the first try, and the masterful way he used his tongue on your clit, it was no wonder he had a body count in the double digits. You felt yourself catapult towards the finish line at an embarrassing speed. All you wanted as to grab onto his hair and grind yourself against his face. You were so close when he took his mouth off you and replaced it with his thumb, his fingers keeping their pace inside of you.

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Maybe he’ll hear you from downstairs. He told me to control my bitch but I’m not quite sure this was what he meant.” He crawled back up your body, one hand bracing himself beside your face and the other inching you closer and closer with every second, “You look so fucking pretty, getting fucked by my fingers, Y/N. You’re so wet for me already and I know you want to cum. So just do it baby, cum for me.” You did not need to be told twice because suddenly your legs were clamped shut, and your body was arching so far off the bed that your wrists felt like they might break against the handcuffs. He kissed your neck as you came down, whispering sweet little praises in your ear. “That was so hot.” You smiled weakly as he looked at you from above.

“Please let me touch you,” You whined as you struggled against the handcuffs, desperate to get your hands on him. 

“God, yes, be my guest,” He laughed as he went to undo your handcuffs, kissing your wrists as he pulled them away. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about how these might hurt.”

“It was worth it,” You smirked as you grabbed his face, pulling him down to kiss you and then immediately pushing him onto his back. 

You mimicked his style from earlier, starting with the lips and moving down the neck before making your way slowly towards the waistband of his shorts. You unzipped his shorts as his hands went to your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. You both worked together to shimmy off his bottoms until you were face to face with him.

Immediately, you took him into your hand and marveled at the size of him and the way he instantly moaned and threw his hand back as you started to pump him. Needing more of those noises, you wasted no time in licking up his length and taking him into your mouth. He helped you set a pace by guiding your head with his hand in your hair, profanities falling out of his mouth. “You take my cock so good, baby. Your pretty fucking lips...driving me fucking crazy…”

He started shallowly pumping into your mouth before pulling out just when you felt like you were starting to get good. “You’re fucking amazing princess, but unless you don’t want me to fuck you we’re gonna have to try that again some other time.”

You moved your way back up his body, this time fully straddling him. “I’m an angel, not a princess.”

Smirking yet again, he grabbed your hips and grinded you against the length of him, “Sorry, but last time I checked angels don’t spend a lot of time taking dick in their mouths.”

“Well in that case I can just head out if you want me too-”

He flipped you over again before you could finish your teasing, “You’re not going anywhere.” And then his lips were back on you and his hands were everywhere all at once, guiding your legs to take their place at the side of his waist. Before long he was lining himself up at your entrance, teasing you against your clit, before he finally plunged into you hard and fast. You were still so worked out from his previous work that you didn’t need time to adjust, instead just able to focus on the feeling of him filling you completely. Before long you had your legs stretched over his shoulders, giving him even better access inside of you, making you scream his name over and over again as you felt yourself start to clench and flutter. 

“Your pussy is so fucking amazing, Y/N. So wet and tight for me. God you take it so good,” His eyes were screwed shut as he was trying so hard to focus on making you finish before he lost it. “Such a good girl for me, sucking my dick and fucking me like that. Oh, fuck.”

He leaned back, holding your legs in front of him, and started pounding you even harder. You grabbed a hold of the sheets next to you and screamed so hard your voice cracked in your throat as you came for the second time. You barely noticed him finishing after you, too far gone in your own bliss. When your soul came back to your body he was falling onto the mattress beside you and wrapping you up in his arms, both of you still panting. 

His hands found your hair as you rested your cheek against his chest, his heartbeat hard and loud in your ears. He lent down to kiss the crown of your head and he sighed against it. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit is right,” You laughed as you rested your chin on his chest so you could look at him, “Well that was fun.”

“I don’t think fun really begins to describe it. I’d go with life changing.”

“Life changing? Wow, I’m honored. I think we should write Bigfoot a thank you letter for making this happen.”

JJ scoffed, “Pssh that guy? No thank you. No one gets to call my girl a slut and get a damn thank you note out of it. I don’t care how good the sex is after.”

You smile slightly and your voice softens, “Your girl?”

He looks down at you with a smile mirroring yours, his one little dimple making your stomach do backflips and his fingers tracing shapes on your back, “I mean yeah, I guess beating around the bush is a lost cause at this point. Is that ok with you?”

You laid your head back on his chest, reveling in the gentle way his fingertips were barely touching you, “That’s more than ok.”

Trying not to seem overeager he cleared his throat, “Cool.”

Laughing to yourself you responded, “Yeah. Cool.”

Unable to help himself he scooped you up in his arms tighter and pulled you even closer, his head resting in your neck trying to hide his smile. Your fingers danced along his scalp and you smiled to yourself. Yeah, you could get used to this.