#my boy is racking up favors

[brilyyy]

Romance (Alastor x Angel Dust) 3/3

Hello there! 👋

Sorry for the delay, this truly took longer to write than I anticipated and then life happened. Hopefully this is worth the wait for you, I really enjoyed writing it! Again, I'm sorry Angel, its not my fault Alastor is deranged, ily.

Thanks for your interest in my fic, please enjoy!

Story warnings - disturbing imagery, horror

Softly, as if floating across his cheek on a cool summer breeze, “Anthony….” The voice drifted in and out, far away, “Anthony wake up…” it faded.

A forgotten dream pulled Angel from the nothingness he’d been bathed in, a woman he didn’t know giggling and chiding him for sleeping, just a bit more he thought, his body numb to any request for movement. The voice giggled in his mind again, Angel’s eyes cracked open ever so slightly. Who was that? A soft voice, pulling at him from somewhere deep in his memories. He could feel the air around him was cold and damp, but still, and it was dark now from what he could see. He didn’t know if he was alone, but he couldn’t feel his body either so what did it matter? Each breath was fought for and ragged, a strained exhale his only reprieve from the pain. Angel closed his eyes again, he was already so tired from keeping them open as long as he had… Even if there was someone there, he didn’t have the strength to go to them, or fight them off if they wanted to hurt him.

“Anthonyyyy, come on, we’re going to be late silly!” The voice pulled at him again. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it… eyes closed he began to drift back to the black unconsciousness, it was warm there and he didn’t hurt. Just a little longer he thought as he began to drift back into the darkness, his choppy, pained breaths becoming further and further apart.

“ANTHONY!!” The voice screamed, and suddenly Angel knew exactly who it was, he’d always hated hearing her scream. Eyes snapping open he sat up as quickly as he could, his body aching, a sharp pain in his chest stabbing with every breath he took, head spinning from all of the abuse he’d endured. His eyes slipped in and out of focus, the dark only making it harder to see, the ringing in his ears dulled only by the pounding of his head. He sat up as best he could and looked around. Although he couldn’t see the creature that had chased him there, he knew it was still out there somewhere, but he needed to find her, that’s all he cared about now.

“M-Molly?” Angel croaked out weakly, he hadn’t said her name out loud in so many years, the word alone sent a flood of emotions rushing through his already scattered mind. He strained to hear a response. His eyes welled with tears, “MOLLY!!” He cried again, desperation in his scream, please, he thought, please let it be her, let this be real. Nothing, and then from behind him, “ANTHONY!!” Angel whipped around and stared at the figure at the edge of the willows cover, eyes straining to focus on the figure in the dark.

Angel squinted hard and suddenly gasped. It was her.

Molly was there, peering at him through the curtain of leaves eyes wide and glossy. 

His breath caught in his throat. 

She gasped softly as their eyes met, “It’s you!” She cheered, relief and joy flooding her face as she ran to him. Angel locked eyes with his sister, and for the moment he couldn’t breathe. Painfully he clambered to his feet and moved as quickly as he could to her, the aching fire shooting through his entire body be damned. He reached out for her expecting to touch nothing, for it all to be a sick illusion, but when her arms wrapped around his waist and held him tightly, he began to shake and sob, throwing his arms around her, eyes wide in bewilderment. “It’s really you!” She sobbed into his chest, her two sets of arms wrapped fully around Angel’s thin frame.

“Oh Anthony, I’ve been so scared! I thought something had happened to you! I couldn’t find you and -” Molly sobbed into his chest, her words muffled and hard to understand through her crying, but Angel was frozen. He could barely understand what was happening. It was her, she was here, in his arms. The thought was too much for him and his head spun, legs giving out he fell into her lithe frame, “Anthony!” Molly cried as they both fell to their knees, Angel’s head foggy, ears ringing. He couldn’t even process why or how she was here. She hugged Angel again while chattering about something and pulled away, now fussing over his cuts and scrapes but he couldn’t hear anything save for the ringing in his ears. 

“Molly?” He looked at her and stared into her glossy pink eyes, afraid to breathe, “Is this real? Are you… Are you real?” His voice was like a whisper, raspy and emotional. If this was a dream he didn’t want to scare himself awake with the question. 

She looked different than when he last saw her, obviously she didn’t look like a fluffy white spider before, but he knew it was her, he could feel it, they were twins after all. She’d always had the biggest, most expressive eyes, always able to find his real thoughts and feelings no matter how well he thought he’d hid them. She stared at him for a moment. Here in the forest, her doe like eyes were wide, searching his face, but then she smiled warmly and grabbed his hand, bringing it to her face and resting his palm to her cheek. Her eyes brimmed with tears, taking a shuddering breath, a tear dripped down her fuzzy cheek and she let out a small huff of a laugh, “Of course I’m real, don’t I feel real to you?” Angel felt her cheek, she was warm and soft, and here and real. She looked just as he remembered her, before she… Before he…

Another wave of emotion hit Angel and he gasped, his body shivered with remorse, tears rolled from his tired eyes down his stained and bloodied cheeks and he lunged at her, wrapping her fully in all six arms and pulling her tightly to him. 

“I’m so sorry Molly! I never shoulda left you! I-I,” he gasped “I shoulda never let you go alone, I should *hic* I shoulda left with you or made you stay I-, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” He sobbed into her hair, body wracked with sorrow and guilt. Losing her had destroyed him, the sadness sending him into a downward spiral he would never recover from “I should have never let you go alone, It’s all my fault, I’m so sorry Molly.” He pressed his cheek hard against hers, holding her tight, desperate and unwilling to ever let her go again.

Molly’s eyes red with tears wrenched closed as she hugged Angel tighter and wept. “Oh Anthony, shhhh,” She cooed as she brushed through Angel’s hair with her fingers, rocking him back and forth while rubbing his back, “It wasn’t your fault,” She whispered as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “I’m here now, it’s okay, it’s okay.” 

They held each other and sobbed underneath the cover of the willow in the darkness, neither one willing to be the first to let go.

After a long while, both of them caught their breath and their cries turned to sniffles, slowly releasing their tight hold on the other. Angel took a pair of Molly’s hands in his, he never thought he would see her again, not after she had died. Turning her hand over in his, Angel found the scar on her left thumb from when he had fallen out of a tree and she had cut herself catching him before he fell to the ground. He’d been horsing around and lost his balance, but she had been there and cut her hand against the sharp tree bark as she held onto him, crying only because she was scared for her brother. The memory was so clear, but he scowled, I’ve always let her down… He shook his head and swallowed hard as he stared at her hands in his, “What are you doing here? You shouldn’ be here.”

“Pfft, I don’ even know where here is!” Molly chirped.

“No, but you shouldn’ be where I am,” Angel laughed wryly “You should be in the good place, not here.” 

Molly looked confused but just shrugged. “I was walkin home from the bar and cut through the woods. I ran into Richie, he was walkin me home… I don’t remember much after that, but after….” Molly trailed off, but Angel knew exactly what she was saying. He clenched his jaw, fist shaking in white knuckled rage, after Richie fuckin killed her. “I woke up and I was here. I’ve been lookin for you or someone, anyone,” She twisted her other pair of hands in her lap, picking at her fingers nervously and staring at the ground “I’ve been so lost and scared, and then there was this… thing….” She paused and Angel could feel her shaking through her hands. “You saw it?” He asked, Molly gasped and looked up at Angel “You saw it too? Oh Anthony it was awful! I’ve been running and trying to find my way out of here, but its so dark and nothing makes sense,” Angel pulled her into another fierce hug, she trembled in his arms but he held her tight. “It’s okay Molly, I’m never going to leave you again, okay?” I’m not going to be useless this time, he thought.

She pulled back and smiled sadly at him, wiping a tear from her eye, “Promise?”

Angel held her shoulders firmly with one set of hands and her face in his other “I promise Molly, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Molly beamed up at him through her tears, god it had been so long since he’d seen that smile. She always had the brightest smile, it never failed to cheer him up when he was down, and now it was like a salve on every wound he’d ever had. He studied her face and began to inspect the rest of her - she was just as ripped up and dirty as he was, though it looked like she had better luck keeping her face away from anything sharp, save for a single cut across her left cheek. He had no idea how she had gotten trapped down here but he was going to give his life if it meant getting her out of here. “Oh!” She gasped suddenly, “Here…” she turned around and dug through a bag that Angel just now noticed. After a moment she produced a water bottle, and unscrewing the top, handed it to Angel “Drink up, you look terrible.” He chuckled and grabbed the bottle “Thanks Molls, where would I be without you?”

“Pfft, here.” She waved a hand around her at the forest and cocked a smile at Angel. He smiled and laughed as she giggled, he’d missed this. Missed her. He stared at their hands and rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. She covered her hand on top of his and smiled warmly, she reached out and ruffled his hair and he feigned annoyance, he’d missed that too.

Angel took another drink from the bottle when he heard something. It was faint, barely audible, but over the ringing in his ears he swore that he’d heard something from the forest… music? Angel lowered the bottle and looked around, then looked at Molly. She was sitting still, wide eyes locked into the distance where Angel had heard the noise, “Did you hear that?” She whispered. 

“You heard it too?” Angel strained to hear more, but it was too far away, he only caught a stray note here and there. The ringing in his ears made his head ache the more he strained to hear and he winced in pain. Molly nodded and stood up, eyes still locked on the tree line, “I’ve never heard it before….Maybe it’s someone who can help us!” She turned and looked at Angel, a hopeful cheer cutting through the dirt and exhaustion on her face. Angel stared at her for a minute then back at the place where the music was coming from. What if it was a trap? What if that creature was luring them out so that it could rip them apart? It had been right on top of him, screaming that it knew where he was, taunting that it could reach him at any time, the rancid cries ringing deafening in the air… 

“What if that thing is still out there?” He shivered, not wanting to push their luck. He knew they couldn’t stay but he didn’t trust the music, he couldn’t risk losing her again. Molly stood for a long while staring into the woods, then turned to Angel and grabbed his hand, pulling lightly to get his attention. His eyes quickly met hers, he hadn’t noticed he was trembling until she grabbed the sides of his arms and gave them a small but firm squeeze. She smiled kindly at him and his heart skipped a beat.

“We gotta try, right Anthony?” She looked at her brother, eyes soft but hopeful, the same look she used to give him when they were kids. He was always a worrier when it came to Molly and now this? It was his job to protect her so he always erred on the side of caution when she was concerned, but she was usually right when it came to making decisions, and Angel knew they couldn’t stay there forever. Locking eyes with her he smiled back and braced himself to stand, legs shaking like a newborn. Taking as deep a breath as he could, Molly pulled him up and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, snaking her arm around his waist to help support him. The stabbing pain in his chest worsened and he gasped, he was pretty sure he’d broken several ribs now, and at least two in different places were threateningly close to piercing his lungs, but he steadied himself against Molly’s small frame and resolved to ignore his body’s cries of anguish for as long as he could.

She looked at him with great concern, eyes searching his face again to see how she could help, but there was nothing she could do now and they both knew it. “Ready?” She chirped with genuine optimism, securing her bag over her free shoulder and smiling at him. Angel looked into her pink eyes and smiled back, his body was throbbing and even standing felt like torture, but as long as she was here, he would try, for her. “As I’ll ever be.”

Slowly they walked to the edge of the willow’s protection and Molly reached out with a free hand to part the curtain of leaves. She peaked out into the darkness and looked around. From what Angel could see it was pitch black, no longer the bright vaguely green sky, now just unnerving darkness surrounded them. It was dead silent, no chirping or hum of insects, no gentle coos of night time birds. Though it was unsettling, there was also no sign that the beast was still there, only gouges in the earth showing it had once been. Angel shivered at the memory of the creature, but resolved to be strong for her.

“I think we’re okay,” Molly spoke quietly, “but it’s so dark out…” her voice trailed off, she had always been afraid of the dark, and this was no normal dark. Angel squeezed her waist where he was holding for support and she turned to look at him. Smiling, he opened his mouth to speak, but the jazz drifting through the air caught both of their attention and he paused. It was still faint, but hearing it again renewed their resolve and Angel could feel Molly take a deep breath. Letting it out she turned to Angel with a small smile and nodded. Turning to the woods once more, she stepped out into the dark forest, Angel limping bravely by her side.

—

The pair ambled through the darkness and reminisced for what seemed like hours over what felt like miles of endless, uncaring forest. At some point, over the rivers of twisted roots and slick rocks begging to catch their feet, the trees had begun to space out, now larger, more gnarled and sinister looking than before. Instead of the more tightly packed evergreens reaching far above, they now walked among larger gaps in thick towering trees, trunks twisting and reaching at strange angles, wide arms overhead, long finger-like branches fanning against the sky. Thick branches held up draping curtains of wide canopy, vines falling from the large overhead supports that held up the scattering lacework of leaves. If there was any moon out tonight, you would have seen its light dappled through the intricate patterns of foliage, but now, it only served as a beautiful background to the dolls scattered hanging amongst the branches, watching over the two as they stumbled through the brush. 

Angel and Molly had been resting, braced against one of these trees for what felt like the hundredth time over the past few hours. The two had tripped over many twisted, vine like roots sprawled over the forest floor, the cover of heavy, bone chilling fog making them impossible to see and avoid. It was just as well, Angel had decided. Early in this new terrain he had tripped over a root and was sent tumbling to the ground, coughing violently as he fell. He had braced himself and caught his breath against the earth, but noticed a squirming, writhing tickle against his fingertips as he panted. Slowly opening his eyes, Angel had examined the fog and realized that underneath its smooth curls of drifting air, it looked like it was moving. 

A deep sickness had run through Angel and with a defeated tear in his eye he blew a small puff of air to clear the fog from his hands. He had wept pitifully, tears streaming down his face in endless sorrow and defeat when he saw that the ground he was resting on was a rug of millions of wriggling worms, millipedes, spiders and other endless bugs, climbing and scrambling over one another in a hurried, writhing mess of knots across the forest floor, all moving hurriedly away from the direction they were going. He sobbed in horror at the realization and sensation, Molly grasping at him to try and calm his cries of distress, when a sharp chirping of birds cut through the stillness of the sky. The sharp cries of the birds sounded metallic and eerie, fake and louder than ever before like a warning. Molly had dragged him to his feet, away from the writhing floor and held him close, whispering soothing things into his hair to calm him. She had held his face in a pair of hands and held his hands in her other and managed to calm him down with some deep breathing, but the horror of that moment made them both check their shoes and pants before they set back out again. 

He was now so disoriented from what was surely a concussion and the ringing in his ears was driving him more than a little insane. His body throbbed and ached so deeply, but they were making progress, the jazz was getting louder.

 Several times through their hours long trek he had slipped and twice had managed to pull Molly down with him as he fell. The second time he hit the ground he fell into a violent coughing spell. As he hacked into his fist, Angel could tell that he was coughing up blood. Though it was dark, he could feel the sticky wetness on his hand as he coughed and shuddered. Quickly he wiped his hand off as best he could before his sister could see. Molly immediately had given him the water bottle again and rubbed his back, offering soothing words to calm him. Angel shivered with the sickness he felt running up through his stomach, it was long since empty, but now beginning to fill with his own blood and it was making him sick. He could taste the metallic richness at the back of his throat and from the corners of his mouth, the constant coughing and swallowing was making him more nauseous as time went on. The idea almost caused him to retch, but he had to keep it together, and settled for another weakening coughing fit.

“Anthony…. Look!” Molly stilled her soothing ministrations and whispered, her voice so small with disbelief. Angel looked up, panting and squinting through the dark trees he saw what she was looking at - a light coming from a small cabin. A log house nestled in a small alcove surrounded by trees, distant, but not very far from where they were. The roof was a little slanted and the logs forming the walls were dark with age, but the windows glowed with the promise of a fire and the jazz they had followed through the trees drifted warmly out of the window. Angel stared for a long moment then turned again to Molly, she had been putting on a brave face but he could tell how tired she was. She shivered in the cold air, and even if he was suspicious of the cabin, he knew she needed rest. He himself was in no condition to keep moving. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his injuries caught up with him, and he needed to make sure that she was at least safe before anything worse happened to him. At least here they would be safe from that thing, even if that house did give him the creeps. Still, everything, all of this felt off and scared him more than it brought comfort.

“Molly… I don’t know….” Angel started, but she cut him off “Come on Anthony, maybe they can help us! Besides, don’t you smell that?” She looked at him and then back to the cabin. Angel took as deep a breath as he could: food. He could smell food. Just the distant scent sent his mind reeling and his stomach growled deep and painfully, a cavern inside of him aching for something other than blood. He could feel his mouth watering at just the idea of eating, and he knew that if he felt this way, Molly felt it more, he had no idea how long she had been lost in the woods before he arrived or even how long he’d been here. Angel turned to his sister and looked deep into her pleading eyes, “Okay, we’ll check it out, but we leave if even one thing is weird, got it?” Molly smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand, kissing his cheek, “got it!”

They managed down the slippery hill that the cabin was settled beneath, tucked between two towering trees at the end of a small clearing, set a bit away from the rest of the dense tree line. It was hard to see anything through the dark night and the dense fog, but Angel could see the light of a fire dancing through the windows. Like moths to a flame the pair stumbled closer, the jazz filling the air now, a gentle trumpet melody welcoming them, the smell of the food enticing them to push further. They crossed the small stream that ran near the front of the house, eyes glued to the refuge.

His eyes scanned the tree line surrounding them looking for the creature, but he couldn’t see anything, save for a nearby stump with an axe wedged into it. They passed near it as Molly quickly but cautiously pulled them to the porch that surrounded the perimeter of the house. He couldn’t see much of the axe, or what was left over on the ground behind the stump, but just the outline of something slumped against the black night sent a shiver down his spine. He turned back to the cabin and surrounding trees, scared to trust the warmth they sought. 

“Almost there,” Molly whispered, she helped him up the small steps onto the porch and after helping Angel find purchase on a nearby post, moved quietly to the door. The smell of the food was so distracting, he was terrified but the smell invaded his mind with the promise of warmth and comfort, sending what little moisture his body had left to flood his mouth in hunger. Angel swallowed and looked around, weary of how relatively easy this had all been. He leaned against the outmost post of the porch sand cast tired eyes to the forest, knowing something was watching them from out in the darkness.

A gentle breeze floated through the wind chimes hanging from the aged wood frame above his head. The wind chimes sounded cheerful yet off somehow, sickeningly hollow, and when angel looked at it he saw why. They were made up of small… animals bones? ribs mostly, and some pieces of differing leg and arm bones, strung together on twisted sinewy thread. The top of the chime was what looked like a fox or a coyote skull, with strange symbols carved into it. What caught his attention though were the strings, they were the same wiry, smooth threads he’d seen securing other unsettling decor around the forest. 

The strings he noted were different colors, a deep black, a black with highlights of brown, a bright orange, blonde… Angels stomach dropped and suddenly he felt nothing but deep dread and sickness. The fear made him instantly retch and shudder - this place wasn’t safe, they needed to leave. 

The sound of Molly knocking on the door ripped him from his thoughts and he jumped, eyes locked on the door as they both held their breath waiting for a response. Angel’s heart was beating in his ears, straining to hear through the ringing and the soft lilt of the music in the still air. He held his breath, begging to hear nothing. A long moment passed, the pair exchanged a glance. Angel reached out to stop her but she knocked again, gentle yet firm, “h-Hellooo?…” Molly squeaked, barely able to contain the shaking in her voice.

Angel limped quietly to her side, grabbing her hand in comfort and fear. They waited for what felt like an eternity, expecting to hear the scuffs of footsteps or creaking floor boards or to hear anything at all, but there was nothing, just the muffled jazz and the stillness of the air. Molly looked back at Angel, hopeful and questioning, but Angels face read nothing but doubt and fear. He shook his head gently pleading, tears pooling in his eyes for her not to open the door. She met his eyes with a worried yet determined stare. 

He whipped around and checked their backs, feeling the eyes of the forest crawling over him, sending a haunting shiver through his body. The forest remained black and unmoving, no life, no sound, save for the now mournful and sinisterly warm music ringing through the air from the nearby window. Angel panted and scanned again, his eye catching the stump from his periphery and - he stopped and snapped his entire head down - the axe was gone. His eyes rang in their sockets, hands deftly grabbing for Molly’s hand for comfort, unable to look away from the now clearly blood soaked stump, void of the axe he had seen before.

He turned to Molly to tell her they needed to go, but to his horror she was in the cabin, standing by the fire in the middle of the room, “Anthony come on!” She chided. “Molly no this place isn’t safe! We gotta go now!” Angel begged trying to be as quiet as possible, but she was already wandering in deeper towards the smell. Angel ambled to the doorway and peered in, “Molly!” He whispered sharply, but she was already poking around what looked to be the kitchen area at the back of the room. 

He huffed. Angel looked over his shoulder again into the darkness behind him and cracking the door only wide enough to squeeze through, he slipped into the house, closing the door silently behind him. He pushed his body against the door and anxiously looked around, horrified to find it was warm and charming inside. The jazz came from a gramophone, set on top of a small desk by the window to his left, cracked only a bit to let some of the cool night air in. The desk had a few letters scattered lightly over the smooth, worn dark wood. A small clear glass vase with some small blue flowers sat next to a black and white photo of a beautiful woman in an ornate gold frame, a drawing of the blooms sketched lightly on the corner of a nearby envelope. 

He stood pressed firmly to the door panting in fear, exploring the room with his eyes, straining for the threat he knew was hiding. He looked past the gramophone to find a large bookcase, filled and overflowing with books. Angel was in awe of just how many books there were, the wood of the shelves reaching to the top of the roof, bowing slightly under the weight of its many reads. The case was filled neatly with rich colors of spines, but for as many filled the shelf, there were still stacks of more littering the nearby floor. The volumes shared the floor spaces between the desk and the nearby leather chair with records and pressings of long since forgotten songs. A beautifully ornate red and blue rug with pops of bright emerald threads framed the space and gave it a warm and cozy feeling. It was clearly old but well taken care of, a bit faded and thread bare in some areas showing the habits of whoever lived here, a clear path between the books on the shelf, the desk, and the chair. 

Angel wearily and hungrily looked at the chair, his body pleading and begging for rest. It looked plush and comfortable, a high back and over stuffed arms, a deep purple knit blanket draped lazily over the arms and low back, a small pillow pressed with wear against the chairs right corner. Angel swallowed, sitting there he knew would feel like a warm embrace, one that would hold onto him and pull him under. The chair sat comfortably between the book shelf and the fireplace along the same wall, angled so that the warmth and light of the fire illuminated the chair entirely but not so far from the book case that one couldn’t grab for the lifeline of a book to save them from the promise of a cozy fireside nap. The fire crackled and sputtered lazily, offering a warming glow that sent a shiver through angel’s frozen and broken body. 

He pulled his eyes away from the spell of the fire and looked back to the promise of the chair. The piles of books sat on top and at the foot of a small side table. It was very petite, only space for a small lamp and an even smaller pile of books, the corners of which hung slightly over the edge of the table. There was also, he noticed, a small tea cup set a top a book, a pair of round gold framed reading glasses placed neatly beside the steaming cup and saucer. Angel squirmed in fear as his stomach clenched “Molly, maybe we should get out of here, what if they come back?” He was worried, no one was there now but it looked like they might be back soon.

“MMM! Oh Anthony look!” Angel looked over toward her voice and saw her standing at a large pot settled on top of a wood burning stove. There was a table between them where she had grabbed a ladle and holding the lid with one hand, she dipped the large spoon into the pot and took a sip of the steaming hot soup. She closed her eyes and let out a deep contented sigh, “You have to try this Anthony, it’s delicious!” Opening her eyes again she found Angel still standing at the front door, his arms both crossed and splayed out, holding himself tightly and bracing himself worriedly against the door. “Come on Molly, we can’t eat someone else’s food!” Angel pleaded, “besides, I think they’re gonna come back soon, we gotta get outta here, this place is beyond freakin me out,” but Molly scooped another ladle full of broth out and held it up for Angel to see.

“They’ll understand, I promise. Come on Anthony be reasonable, you need to eat somethin to gain back your strength!” She turned around and grabbed for a bowl from a nearby shelf. Turning back to the pot, she scooped a ladleful of broth into the bowl and held it out to Angel, “Come on, just a little, please….” She begged him with her eyes. 

Was she seriously out of her mind? Absolutely not! There was no way they were just going to wander into this random persons house and then steal their food. What if they came back and got pissed and cut them up into pieces like he’d seen hanging from the trees? The rich scent of the soup caught his nose again and sent his stomach tumbling into a deep gnawing pull of hunger. Angel stared again at the chair, and looked around the room to see more quaint touches, pictures on the wall of an older woman and a young man who Angel figured was her son, framed pieces of art, scatterings of playful taxidermy… He glanced at the bookcase again to see framed photos scattered among the shelves, another small bundle of blue flowers set lightly a top of the leather chair.

He did admit that it was nice and warm in here, and it would be good to regain their strength… As long as it wasn’t that huge creature that lived here, chances are they could outrun whoever lived here if they turned out to be hostile. Well, Molly could. I’ll give her a head start, he let out a small huff of a laugh, might as well die with a warm belly he thought.

Slowly, Cautiously, Angel limped across the room past the fireplace and the chair towards the kitchen using the wall as a crutch. He glanced up wearily at the wall to see black and white photos of people other than the old woman and her, admittedly, very handsome son. There was another photo of the woman from the desk, though this time she was singing on a stage surrounded by a crowd of cheering men. A large portrait of the older woman set in an ornate wood frame nestled between two complimentary paintings of rabbits and foxes dancing in pastel play clothes. He walked further along and saw a couple of old victorian photos, a beautiful young woman with bright white hair and dark eyes, so pale she almost looked grey. 

In one photo, she stared blankly into the camera while clutching a small white bundle, which Angel realized was a baby. Her face was soft with no expression, but she held the infant with care, gently but firmly for the camera to see. His eyes found another photo with the same woman, standing in the same beautiful gown. She now stood next to a handsome man in a black tuxedo, decorated with military badges and pins. He was seated, dressed in what Angel could tell were expensive clothes, with a top hat and bow tie. He had a large but meticulously maintained mustache and beard covering his face, no emotion showing on his handsome features. The woman stood beside him, barely resting her hand on his shoulder, her black eyes reflecting no light, her features statuesque. He shivered. Angel peered deeper into the photo and noticed that the mans eyes were closed. Confused, he looked back at the photo of the infant and realized the infants eyes were closed too. Confusion crossed his brow, but then he pulled away from the wall, his eyes welling up with tears - they were both dead. 

“Hurry Angel, quit stalling” Molly called sharply. Lip trembling, Angel quickly turned from the wall and grabbed for the table, shuffling quickly to where Molly was standing and clasped her hand in his. He stared at their hands for a moment, fear soaking deeper and deeper into his bones, the need to run away twitching in his legs. He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath, just keep it together a little longer, he thought, do it for her, she needs you, Anthony.

He looked up from their hands and into Molly’s eyes, her kindness and patience reflected in her pink orbs. “Here,” She said gently, putting the bowl down in front of him on the table and gently brushing his hair with her free hand. He stared at the bowl, the steam rising and dancing for him, offering its savory aromas and causing his resolve to tremble. Swallowing guiltily he looked up at Molly, “I don’t know Molls, really… I-I think we should jus go, please….”

With a huff, Molly grabbed the ladle and scooped a fresh spoonful of soup from the pot. She turned to Angel and held the steaming ladle full of broth in front of his face, her lips pressed in a determined line.

Angel swallowed deeply while staring deeply into Molly’s eyes. The smell of the fresh broth pulled his eyes down and he stared into the spoon she was holding out to him. The rich brown broth looked just as delicious as it smelled, and he could feel his mouth flood in hunger. He looked up again at Molly, pleading with his eyes, but knowing that she was right and he needed something to replenish his broken body, he leaned in and took a long, slow sip from the spoon. The warmth of the broth slipped past his lips and invaded his entire body, warming and scorching his frozen core as the liquid poured down his throat. He could feel it dispersing its healing warmth, instantly curing his pains and awakening his body into deep, raging craving for more.

His eyes opened and he stared at Molly again, she smiled at him knowingly, “It’s really good right?” She grinned. Angel smiled sheepishly, good was an understatement, more like incredible. Maybe they could finish their soup and then leave in a hurry. As if reading his mind (or just hearing his stomach), Molly grabbed the bowl from the table and adding a fresh ladleful of soup, handed the bowl back over to Angel. 

The young spider smiled weakly taking the bowl and looked warmly at Molly as she ladled more soup into a bowl of her own. The pull of hunger controlling his body now, he brought the bowl to his lips and let his eyes drift closed with comfort as he took another long slip. The meal felt like sunshine running through his body, reminding him of childhood, sitting at their small dinner table during cold winter nights and eating with his sister. The broth was delicious, rich and comforting with herbs and spices, his lips and mouth tingling with what he imagined was a pepper sauce. He tilted the bowl higher, draining the soup of its broth and only stopping when he felt an ingredient in the bowl bump against his lips.

His eyes drifting open in contentment, he lowered the bowl and sighed happily staring into the pottery in his hands. Having drunk so much of the liquid, he could now see the solids of the soup, some greens and onions, red pepper flakes, a potato, and…. Angel squinted. His eyes immediately shifted from innocent curiosity to cold horror, staring down blankly, body frozen. Mind broken, his hands forgot their task and Angel dropped his bowl, the glossy pottery shattering on the ground revealing the remaining contents of the soup - an ear, and two small toes. Angel stared at the floor, the ringing in his ears louder than the jazz filling the small space. He couldn’t breathe, the pounding of his heart ringing throughout his entire body. 

“It was people,” the words slipped out of Angel’s mouth, barely audible, eyes unblinking in shock. 

Saying it out loud, no matter how silent sent him reeling. Hearing it caused his body to retch deeply, the realization of what he’d eaten forcing him to spew the contents of his already weakened stomach on the ground. He doubled over, throwing up what little was in him, his sickness renewed with each glimpse of the broken bowl on the floor, the ear dangerously close to his left foot. “Mol-MMolly!” he weakly called between waves of retching, reaching out weakly for support, pulling at the bottom of his now empty stomach to force bile and saliva out of his burning throat. “Molly!” he called weakly, bracing himself on the table, he looked up to where she had been by the cooking pot, but a new dread filled his emptied stomach when he found she was gone.

Eyes wide in terror, he spun frantically, searching around the room for any sign of his sister, but in the instant it took for him to realize she was gone, the room had changed from a quaint little cottage, warm with the welcoming glow of the fire to exactly what he had feared. The small room was now lit a murderous red, dark and almost black in places, only brighter because of the barely controlled fire raging against the wall. The fire was white hot and green - the crackling of the lime flames dancing off of the edges of hundreds of razor sharp weapons mounted to the wall that was once lined with memorabilia. Where had just been photos and artworks moments before, now housed knives, chisels and blades, scythes and straight razors covering any free space between knots and holes in the broken panels of wood. Each instrument of suffering was polished to a mirror like shine, placed carefully and in an order, obviously well cared for. 

“MOLLY!” He cried out desperately, “WHERE ARE YOU??” 

The jazz from the front of the room blared through the gramophone's bell, the sound breaking in places and becoming more distorted and off key as the record played.The books on the shelf were gone and replaced with jars filled with body parts floating in shades of pink or blue liquid, hands, hearts, and a few heads floating lifeless in the jars. The once siren lounge chair now sat ominously, the leather of the chair clearly patched together with different pieces of differing colors of leather… different sizes and shapes… Angels eyes drifted in horror to the fire place, eyes shaking, climbing to find a small bundle of legs, and another larger bundle of arms hanging from the ceiling with different herbs to dry. 

Angel heaved in an open mouth sob, the once cozy lilt of the jazz now a raging upbeat tempo, squalling and crying out, trumpets and saxophones slicing through the mounting terror. The record player glowed with the same sickening green magic that the fire raged with, sending small sparks of fire drifting off into the air. They floated and danced on the distorted melodies around the room, alive with magic, charming despite the scene. He stared in awe and fear as one of the little fireflies buzzed up to his face, flying in an intricate spiral, and then landed on his cheek, singeing the hair on his face. He grabbed his cheek in pain and stared on in horror as the room filled with the lightning bugs, burning him with sharp pain as they lazily bumped into him. 

Suddenly, a loud, metallic screech ripped through the wailing of the jazz, the piercing cut of the scream sliced through Angel and stoked the deep fear writhing inside of him. Every hair standing on end, Angel turned around and locked teary wide, insanity filled eyes with the terrible, smoldering red of the creature. The room had changed again, the roof of the small cabin now much taller than it had been, allowing the smaller, but still massive demon to take up almost the entire cabin, its upsettingly thin and long legs crouching brokenly. Its giant white buck skull dripped black sap as it ran razor sharp black claws against a grinding stone now placed in front of the fire place. Long high pitched screams over powered the cries of the piano chords from the record player, the Wendigo twisted its long, broken neck towards Angel, bright red pupils boring into him from blackened sockets, the screaming and trumpets rioting in the air between them. 

Angel stared back trembling, screeches from the grinding stone echoing the ringing in his ears. Angel shook in defeat, whimpering in terror as he clutched his head with his hands. The strange birds. He knew they hadn’t sounded right, but now he knew the chirps and calls hadn’t been birds at all, it had been the grinding cry of knives and claws being sharpened all along. His knees gave out and he buckled into the table grabbing tight in fear, frozen in place, shaking and sobbing, eyes darting between the wall of blades and the creature, begging to find his sister.

 w̸̙̗͝h̸͙͋ǎ̸̡̋t̴̮̥̍̋'̴͔̑͜ś̷͇͈͠ ̷̠̉͘t̴̬̗̃ḩ̵̱̄͝e̵͓͒͘ ̸̖̝̌m̸̹͋̈́ã̷̢̝t̴̨̠̒̇t̵̲̼̿ĕ̶̞͗r̶̼̔̃

the creatures voice was a layered and distorted guttural growl, shaking the inside of Angels head. All at once his hair stood on end, his body erupting into gooseflesh. He hadn’t heard it from his ears, he heard it from inside of him, inside of his mind. The concept made Angel grab his head and cry out in fear, screaming as he could hear the monster laughing in his mind. Reaching a clawed hand forward, the creature leaned toward Angel, neck stretching, head turning at broken angles. Lumbering over him, the creature twisted its head, bringing the tip of its bleached skull inches away from Angels and stared deeply into his eyes. Angel took a deep shuddering breath and turned to look up at what he knew was watching from the forest all along. Angel stared into the bright white skull of the haunted creature, eyes burning red radio dials, mouth dripping with dead blood and chuckling out loud and in his thoughts. He knew it was him, Angel’s body wracked with a sob, it had been him the whole time. His body trembled in fear, too scared to be angry as the Wendigo hovered above him, titanic and horrifying, crawling with maggots and death.

a̷̢̗͓͗̉̓r̴̳̩̀͋ę̴̬̟̝͛̃̄̃̅̇̎͘ ̴̛̛̙͖̆̋y̸̦̹̖̝̖̣͛̀̾̉o̴̗̠̖̲̽̄͂̊̅͗̌ͅͅư̸͖̳͍̞͇̲̗̇̏́͂̑̑ ̴̢̞̟͕̦͚͐̏̀̂̄͝ͅs̶͚͕͒͂̃͒̚ć̸͖̺̙͌ḁ̶̢̼́̈͐̓̅̚r̶̡̢̳̣̫̪̈́̀͆͒̽̓ę̴̽̽͌̆d̴̡͕̮̺̠̋̈́̀͘͝?̵̨͙͚͔̼͇̟̥̽̃̈́̐̚

A dark rolling laughter rang out from a radio suddenly appearing on the mantle at the same time as it rang out in his mind. The creature in front of him let out a screaming bellow, a shaking rancid cry of sorrow deep from its core ringing out in the small cabin, the beast cackling in his mind as it sharpened its claws against the grinding stone. The screeching, now obvious cries of the claws against stone, reverberated through his entire being, his eyes wide, tears stinging his cheeks as they streamed down his face, jazz joyfully wailing in the air. Angel’s mind was beginning to break, the pounding of his heart keeping time with the horrid jazz. He needed to find Molly, they needed to go before it was too late.

“MOLLY!!” He screamed, the Wendigo shifted and screamed too, mocking Angel and laughing louder in his mind. He cried out for her again, stepping back from the kitchen table, wrapping his arms around his body, bracing his head with his other hands, clamping his red eyes shut tight. The creature screamed in delight, his gravely laughter ringing inside of Angel’s head while the radio cackled violently through its static. Eyes desperate and tired, he searched the kitchen for anything that could help him find Molly. His head swam with all of the different sounds and exhaustion, his mind blank with shock and fear, but determined to find her. 

He searched the kitchen, eyes finding a large jar nearby that hadn’t been there before. He wept as he saw it filled with hundreds of gold and silver rings. He stared brokenly at the jar, there were so many rings in it, it was almost full, wedding rings, so many people…. Shaking, he turned his head to the scene in front of him - where there had been nothing now there was a bloody cleaver and a human leg sitting on the table. Mind reeling with the discovery, the screams of the creature faded into the blaring of the jazz and static from the radio as he stared at the new setting before him, ears ringing loudly in his head, the audio of the room shaking his body. The leg had been cut into two pieces at the knee, a tattoo of a naked woman and a rose high on the thigh. There were scraps of carrot peel and onion ends, a few leafy stems, but Angel’s eyes drifted to a large blood spot in the middle of the cutting board. Angel gulped heavily and stared down at the cut of what he recognized as the leg calf. His eyes followed the limb and noticed the foot had been cut off at the ankle, and was no where to be seen Angel realized with a pitiful whimper.

“The foot is a wonderful ingredient for adding bold flavor without wasting prime cuts,” Alastor’s static voice cut through the terror and filled him with a new fear. 

“Tons of cartilage and fat for flavor,” a slow thumping came from in front of Angel, not as earth shaking as before, but it still filled him with the same dread. The sharp thumping of footsteps came closer, but he was too shaken to look up. 

“Some muscle, some marrow…” His cheerful tone drawled across the room and wrapped softly around the lively jazz. Angel’s eyes were locked on the blood stained cutting board, he shook in terror and rage, clenching his fists so tightly his hands began to bleed. Alastor’s foot steps stopped right in front of the table, and Angel glared down through tears in his eyes at how his boots were immaculate, perfectly shined to reflect the green fire’s raging glow. 

Alastor lunged forward with a black clawed hand and grabbed Angel by the throat, squeezing his fingertips into his neck and pulling Angel’s face to meet his snarl, “LIKE A HAM HOCK.” He growled excitedly through a grin, static distorting his voice, strained and unhinged. 

Angel was livid among other things. 

Shaking with rage and terror, the pale spider mustered his strength and looked into the demon’s face with pure rage but let out a shaking breath in dread when he actually saw it. Alastor’s features had been distorted and exaggerated, his shark teeth enlarged and razor sharp, dripping with fresh blood. Eyes bright red with burning green dials for pupils, his antlers loomed dangerously, black and jagged. Each bone ended in a sharp point, twisting and contorting around each other, sharp and dripping with acid green magic that burned. The demons crown was adorned with jewels - strings of limbs and cloth dolls, a macabre decoration that only served to make the Radio Demon more terrifying. 

His face however scared him the most - Angel could see bits of hay and dried grass peeking out between stitches on his face and neck, straw coming out from under his hair, a thread by his grin hanging loose. He looked like a doll, sewn together with bright acid green magic, coming undone, burlap skin hiding wriggling worms and beetles that squirmed beneath the surface. He could see the demons neck and limbs were longer and more twisted than normal, bent at impossible angles, Alastor’s body looming larger than usual. 

Panicking in his grasp, Angel’s eyes scrambled to see that he was much larger than usual, now taking up the same space as the creature before, Alastor’s legs twisted in a looming crouch, hands turning into large bleeding black claws. The titanic Radio Demon rest his free hand on the table that had separated them, cracking and breaking the wood beneath his weight. His suit was sharper and more ripped, bloody and gushing a black ooze from his pockets and collar that made the air smell rancid with stale blood and rotted meat. Angel could see bugs crawling from underneath his suit, running between his lapels and into his breast pocket, an unflinching smile plastered sharply on his burlap face. 

Alastor leaned in too close to Angel, the green glow of his eyes lighting the spiders features dramatically “So what did you think of my gumbo?” He grinned, manic laughter ringing from the radio and inside Angel's head. Alastor was holding the spider entirely in his razor sharp grasp, fingers like a cage of swords holding Angel back, cutting painfully into his flesh whenever the cackling demon tightened his grip “Delicious, don’t you think? I’ll give you the secret if you promise not to tell.”

Angel screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists harder, “WHERE THE FUCK IS MOLLY??” Angel screamed, eyes set with determination,  “GIVE HER BACK!”

Alastor fell into a tumbling cackle of deep, gut wrenching laughs at the spiders boldness. With a final squeeze, Alastor tossed Angel to the corner of the room, his body slamming into the kitchen shelves against the wall, before falling limply to the floor. Angel cried out in pain when he landed, a fallen knife slicing cleanly into his side. He winced and grabbed the handle, pulling the blade from his gut as he whimpered, weakly checking to see the extent of the damage as the room spun with magic. Alastors laugh rang throughout the cabin, the angry jazz and echoes of the creatures screams in the air suffocating him. Stitched together in a grotesque smile, long since dead blood now dripping from the cracks of his fangs, Alastor’s burning red eyes with piercing green glowing dials twisted with delight, “My dear, whatever do you mean?” The demon taunted, mirror sharp knives for fingers grasping for him, ripping cleanly through any flesh it encountered, a renewed roll of manic laughter flooding from the radio.

Angel winced as the claws sliced cleanly through him, clutching his side, Angel screwed his eyes shut and screamed as loud as he could, “GIVE HER BACK ALASTOR!” The demon turned its hideous head at a sickening angle with a large bone snapping crunch, “Who?” The demon jeered, eyes smiling, truly enjoying their game.

“Ohhhhhh,” Alastor taunted as he cocked his head in the opposite direction, another nauseating deep crack of bone, “Her?”

As he spoke, his eyes glowed brighter and the room immediately began to burn with his putrid green magic. Instantly, the ground between them fell away into a deep, fiery pit, a white hot inferno licking the edges of the sinkhole, the eerie red of the room giving way to violent purple and blue. The newly formed chasm radiated with the sickly green glow, the flames of Alastors magic sending fireflies swarming out of the pit in the earth and pelting Angel with singeing burns as they attacked him. Symbols and spells of Alastors magic in bright green and fiery white spewed from the fires, spinning around the room and popping at random, sending painful bursts of flies at Angel like little bombs. Inky black tendrils of shadow covered the walls, shaped like hoards of raging demons, all laughing and cheering, claws begging for bloodshed and violence - the shadow behind Alastor the biggest and most blood thirsty of all, jagged mouth dripping in anticipation.

“ANTHONY!!” Mollys screams rang through the cabin, Angel snapped up to see her clutching tightly to a threadbare rope, hanging from one of the colossal Radio Demon’s deadly antlers. Angels eyes widened somehow further in terror as he watched Molly twisting helplessly, fighting to grab a more secure hold on the rope, dangling like the other dolls that littered his branches of antlers. Her own eyes were screwed shut in fear, crying and begging for rescue. Angel sobbed as she screamed and whimpered, clawing for purchase while Alastor laughed, swinging her wildly around the room as he laughed, dangling her over the dancing fires of the abyss. The large demon cackled violently as he swung her around, Alastor now a magenta and acid blue titan looming over Angel as he stared helplessly at his sister. 

Alastors burning eyes watched Angel’s face in delight, the spider desperate and frantic, scrambling weakly to try and find something to help his sister with, but there was nothing left in the room save for the four of them - Alastor, the twins and the chasm. The great demon shifted an eye over to Molly hanging from his antler and lifted a brow smiling wider, a terrible giggle coming from the static. Alastor reached up and held his dripping claws up to Molly, poking sharply at her side with his index finger and earning a pained squeak from the girl. Angel raged at the offense as Molly sobbed, swinging precariously from his antler, “STOP IT ALASTOR!!” Pupils shifting back to Angel, The Radio Demon splayed his fingers around Molly as she squirmed and dangled helplessly, the demon somehow smiling wider and more murderous. He flexed his clawed hands again and placed a razor sharp finger delicately against Molly’s rope.

“Oops!” Alastor quirked his shoulder with surprised delight, flexing his index and slicing the rope Molly gripped in a single swift motion. Eyes wide in terror, Molly grasped for anything and screamed, eyed locked with Angel’s, her slender frame plummeting towards the fire.

Angel’s heart stopped. 

“MOLLY!!” He screamed as she fell, the shriek ripping what was left of his voice apart, the green flames of the chasm reaching up to break her fall.

Fueled by adrenaline, Angel ran to the edge of the pit and reached out for her, all 6 of his arms stretched wide, watching her fall, straining to get closer to her. Molly’s screams rang out in his head, louder than the jazz or the monster or even the ringing in his ears. He watched as she fell, bracing himself to grab her, he wouldn’t let her die again.

“ANTHONY!!” She screamed as she plummeted, her hands out stretched towards him, eyes wide in terror as she fell, she was so close… Angel reached up and out further, the tip of his boot hanging over the edge of the pit, brushing his fingertips against hers, he could just barely touch her… she was too far away….

“Not again,” Angel muttered, and throwing himself over the edge of the chasm, he grabbed a hold of her wrist, fully wrapping his hand around her and holding her tight. 

He grabbed for her other hand as she fell but missed, causing him to hold on to her wrist tighter, only death could make him let go. He grabbed again for her as they fell, finally managing to secure her other two hands in his. Angel’s free hands grabbing for anything to anchor the pair to the cliff, anything to save them from the burning hell of Alastors magic. As they fell into the burning pit, Angel desperately grasped for anything, fingers finally managing to catch onto a crag in the side of the chasm, the sudden jolt of their abrupt stop jostling the twins, the pair clinging tighter as they settled.

Using all of his remaining strength and the three arms that weren’t wrapped around his twin, he held them securely over the pit, the rocky cliff cutting into his fingers and hands. Angel panted in panic and looked deep into Mollys eyes, the green fire raging in his sight behind her, “Don’t look down Molls, jus focus on me okay?” He yelled over the screaming of the Wendigo, the soul wrenching screeches steeping them both with dread.

“Anthony,” Molly whimpered pitifully, her eyes flooded with tears. The young spider sobbed in fear, wrapping tightly around her brother she trembled, knees clenched around his leg. Angel was quickly loosing his hold on the side of the cliff, the rocks so sharp that they threatened to slice his hands in two, but he wouldn’t let Molly down, not again. 

“Hold on tight to me Molly! Don’ let go!” He yelled, voice raspy and hoarse, fear emphasizing his words. Looking up they weren’t too far from the opening, but with his strength already failing, he feared they wouldn’t make it. Mustering everything in him, Angel turned fully to the rocky side of the pit and slowly began to pull them up to the edge. Hand over hand he pulled them up, straining as he climbed, hands bloody and raw, cuts filling with gravel. Sweat dripping from his pallid face, he could hear Molly cry out in pain as the fire crackled higher against her hip. The rancid violin screams rang out hollow and louder above them, the cackling radio and angry trumpet filling the air, laughing in pure joy at their torment.

Anger surged through Angel, fuck his pain, he wouldn’t listen to her screams anymore, he needed her safe. Pulling harder, Angel climbed up the cliff and finally reached a bloody hand up and over the edge of the pit, grabbing firmly to the broken floorboards that signaled their salvation. Pulling with all of his strength, Angel threw an elbow over the lip of the abyss and pulling himself up, reached to find another anchor point with his other damaged hands. His fingers splayed for a hole in the floor, anything to help him pull the two of them up when the board supporting him snapped. Angel gasped, panicked eyes wide he scrambled to find anything else to hold onto as Molly and the Wendigo screamed, the pair slipping back down into the fire. The Radio Demons cries of laughter rang out renewed, louder than before, splinters littering Angels broken hands as they begged for purchase.

“FUCK!” Angel screamed, a bloody hand finally grabbing ahold of a wide crack in the wood inches from the edge, stabbing a broken splinter deep into his fingertip as he held tight. He trembled and panted weakly, pulling them up again, begging his adrenaline rush to get them to safety. With both elbows above the ridge again, he braced against the floor and clenched his torso, pulling himself back over the edge of the hole. He swung a leg over the lip and onto the splintered wood, scrambling to pull the rest of his body up while keeping a firm hold of Molly. Dangling over the acid green flames, she curled into herself away from the fire, sobbing weakly in fear as Angel pulled her up, her small hands reaching up to grab the edge of the chasm.

Straining against his own fatigue, Angel dug his heels into the cracks in the floorboards, pulling Molly over the side of the pit, her eyes bursting with tears. “Come on Molly, its okay,” Angel reached out a hand smiling, the screaming of the Wendigo refreshed in the air, “Jus’ look at me, jus’ focus on me.” Molly stared deeply into his eyes as Alastors howls of manic laughter rang loud through the room, vibrating the air in their lungs and sending the fire of the chasm high into the air. Molly screamed out in pain as the green flames raced up her body, her arms and upper torso the only parts of her above the fires grasp. 

“MOLLY!!” Angel cried, straining hard against her wrists, begging to bring her to safety. Somehow through the distorted bellows of the creature and the mocking jazz in the air, Angel heard the sound of fabric sheering and ripping as he pulled. He stared into his sisters face as it contorted from fear into absolute confusion and panic, her screams shrill and pained. His own brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled her towards him, much lighter after the sound of the ripping had cut through the air. The colossus Alastor loomed large over head, mouth and eyes wide in twisted delight, fangs dripping rancid black blood, his disfigured arms caging them in. Abnormally large eyes wide, acid green dials lit the pair from the demons insane gaze, his cackling unhinged through the radio waves and Angels mind as a ring of shadow demons cackled and jeered in delight.

Molly’s screams rang out in the tiny cabin and shook Angel to his core, ripping him back into reality from the daze he had been in since hearing the sound. 

He scrambled towards her, pulling her to him as she screamed out in agony, his confusion and fear causing bile to pool at the back of his throat, blood running cold as he forced himself to her side. “MOLLY WHAT IS IT? TELL ME Wha-“ He stopped when he noticed the reason for her cries, she had no legs. She screamed out again, “ANTHONY!! OH GOD MAKE IT STOP!” “She thrashed and shrieked, her brothers eyes locked on where her legs would be as he held her. 

“IT BURNS!! OH GOD ANTHONY PLEASE!!” Angels mind went blank, fireflies singeing his face and arms, eyes locked on the hem of her shirt and the void beneath it “IT BURNS!!” Molly screamed.

Angel pulled her into his arms, hands shaking he secured her in his lap as she sobbed in agony. “Molly let me see…” Angel managed to say, words detached and hollow, a trembling hand reaching towards the edge of her shirt near her waist. He swallowed hard, the noise of the cabin all blending together and failing against the ringing in his ears, the pounding of his heart throbbing through his frame. “ANTHONY PLEASE!!” She sobbed again as he gingerly grabbed the singed hem of her shirt and pulling up slightly, exposed the burnt ends of hay and dried grass sticking out from under her shirt. 

Angel stared at the sticks and reeds, unable to blink or breathe. His eyes mutely wandered to Molly’s beautiful face distorted in terror and agony, arms flailing in fear, begging and sobbing for the pain to stop. His eyes stung with tears, as her screams cut through the fog that had covered his mind and the cacophony of torment and horror came flooding in again, reigniting his dread. His body moved on its own, the need to comfort her the only way he could react. Weakly he reached up to brush Molly’s matted and dirty hair, voice trembling as he tried to sooth her. “Its…i-it’s gonna be ok-kay Molly… I’m…” 

H̴̝̩̫͉̀̏̄̂ơ̸̢̼̞͗w̵̥̫̦̆͘ ̴̝̣̉w̷̝̱̃i̸̬̙̰̓̉̋͛l̴͇̈́l̶͚̯̦̈́̾̅͗͠ ̵̼̀̽̄̐y̶̼̏͛̚͠o̵̪̙̣̣̫̍͗ṵ̶̥̭̪̋́͜ ̵̿̃͝ͅf̶̛̪͖̣̀̕ĭ̸̪̰̀̋x̴͈̏͂̀ ̸͔͔̬̞̀̾t̸̘̍h̷̳̜̩̳̾́i̸͇̣̒̓s̶̻̭̪̐̊

“I’m gonna make it okay…”

Ḫ̶̛̛̘͕̘̞͉͚��̍̅͛͑̿́̑̇̋̉Ơ̷͇̖̮̲̲̣̣͙͙̱̞̙̅W̴̜̻̜͗͗̋̅̒̕͝ ̵̧̤̰̜̩̫̱̯͚̹̼͓̍͌͛̕͜ͅẄ̸̨̛͔̟̘̮͉̮͓̻́́̾́̀͆́͛̏̋̽̈́̽̏̎͜I̶̢̛͉̊̿̂̽ͅḶ̷̛̜̠͔̞̦̠̫͓͛̀̂̃͛̌͆̒́̎̕L̸̨̦̱̠̜͎͇̭̦̗̭͈͔̭͈̈́͋͘ ̴̛̛̼͇̄̿͗͑͗́̚͝Y̶̻͆͛̓̒̈́͗̽͒̔͆͋̓̕͘̚͠͝O̴̺͖̼͖̣̙̤̲̱̍͌͐U̷̝̯̬̓̔̓̔͘ ̴͓̺̣̲̹͆F̴̧̫̠͔̜͙̖͍͍̼̞̭̓̉͌̋͂̏̎̈́̈́̕͠͠͝I̴̧̢͕̹͎̺̲͙̰̤̭̱̿͋͑͗̄͐͒͒̋̅̊̚͝X̵̺̣̣͔͔͙̹͊͘ ̸̬̳̰̝̭̦̹͕̣̺̅̎̂̅͂́͜͝ͅṪ̸̡̤͓͚́̓̄̉͗̚̚͝Ḩ̴̹̮̤̝̭͉̹͎̠̱͓̻͑̔͛̑͋͑̉̇̄̉͝Į̶̧͍̜̰̮̦̙̠̺̰̻̪̦̳̯͂̀̈́͋͝͝ͅS̴̛͎̠͎̐́̆̿̓͆̀͛̀̉̈̕͝͝?

“I CAN FEEL IT BURNING MY SOUL!! ITS BURNING MY SOUL!! ANTHONY PLEASE HELP ME!!” Angel whimpered and muttered hollow reassurances rocking them back and forth, eyes still staring at the hay coming out of her ribs, too scared to admit the truth to himself, afraid to look deeply at his sisters features. 

“MAKE IT STOP!! PLEASE HELP ME!! IT’S BURNING MY SOUL ANTHONY, PLEASE!!” Her hands pulled at his sweater, begging him to end her suffering. Angel let out a choked sob, deep anguish contorting his face, he held her close and threw his head back letting out a rage fueled cry of agony. He screamed until he had no breath left in him and slumped sobbing against Molly’s now smaller frame, her shrieks of pain muffled as he buried his face into her neck. He grabbed her close and screamed again with her. The Wendigos voice called out in Angels mind.

w̵͙̰͇͎̄́̄́͌h̸͇̜̻̤̀̿y̴̫̗͕͌̏̓̒͠ ̸̜͎̀͊͆̚͝w̶̧̟̦̓̓̊̾ͅǫ̶̡̘̙̇ň̶̨͚͝'̸̰̊̓ť̷̺͂̎̽ ̸̡͂̄́̌y̷̱͆̒͝ò̵̬̬͚̼̒͂͐͜ů̷̱ ̴̪͔̳͖̿͂̇̈́ͅļ̴̜͆ȏ̸̡̱̟̭ǒ̴̖̙̥͋͠k̵̼̗̱̰̓̈̄ ̶͈̳̦͍́̈́á̵͙̘͎̺̘t̴͉͝ ̶̘̯͙̼͛̿́̾͝h̵͕͔͙͕̄́ȅ̸̫͈̟̙̯ŗ̶͎̠̗̀̏̓?̶͙̺̘̳̀

“SHUT UP!!” Angel screamed, clenching his eyes tight, Molly shrieking for death in his ear.

Ļ̷̢̨̢͈̯̦͍̗͕̝͙͂̒͛̉̓̔̓̑̌̀̋̀̆̌̅̿̏̓̂͊͛͝Ö̷̢̻̭̟̳̖̹̱̟͆̽̾͋͐̀̊͗́͌͊͜͜Ȯ̴̢̧̤̺̰͕͓͙͛̊̀̓͑̈́͛͘ͅͅK̷͉̪͚̲̰̟̗̀͊͐̇͂́̂̏̄̎̌̄́̚͝ ̵̧̦̬͎͔̰̙̓̽̓̊̃̓͒̓́͆̓̇͑̚̕͝͝Ä̸̢̡͓̳́͋̎́̌̈̈́̿̎͠T̷̨͚̯̜̫̀̒̎͑͊͊̑͊ ̶͉͎̫̣̱̬̈́͋͂̿̄̋̿̏͊̀̉̂̓̽͐̀̂̚͠H̸̛͇̎͂̾͐͐̓̈̄̆̀͋Ë̷̤̺͕̪͈͖̘͉̙̭̱��̔̃̐̇̎̾̔̽͊̕͜͠͝ͅͅȐ̵̨̛̞̩̲̣̻͙̻̳̬̖̪͍͛́̾͌͂͛̈̔

The voice commanded loudly in Angels mind and reverberated throughout his body startling him, causing him to open his eyes with a sob, tears running down his chapped and raw cheeks. He screwed his eyes closed again and biting his trembling lip, turned his face towards his screaming sister and opened his eyes slowly.

Teary red eyes looked down into her horror and pain filled face, acid green stitches lining her features and holding together the seems of her skin. Angel shook his head in defeat and sorrow as he noted the singed burlap of her cheek, her arms and neck seems bursting with reeds and dried grass. “No…” he whimpered, Molly screaming out in agony, “ITS BURNING MY SOUL ANTHONY!! PLEASE!! MAKE IT STOP BURNING!!” An arm seem ripped fully and her arm slumped to the ground, landing brokenly on the floorboards with a small thud. She writhed in pain, hay splaying on the nearby ground as Alastors manic laugher blared from the static of the radio.

w̸͔̩͍̹͇̣̻͑̎̐͂h̷̨͉͈̯̯̝̲̩̄̊͜y̴̢͔͈̥̪̤̜̑͆̄͊͆̃͒̚̕͜ ̸̬̹͚̟̓̂̚ͅẁ̵̺̭͎͎͖̱͆̈́ò̵͈͓̯̱̯͂̊̈͜n̶̲̖̗̩̪̘̜͌͒̈́̍͛́͊̆̈̚'̷̛̻̺̟͓̺̘̩̮́̒͂̓̓̊͑͜t̴̛̺̙̹̗̃̌̏̓̅̓ ̸͓̩̾y̵̧͓̺̲͕̺͍͚̲̅̊̂̋̅̿́̇̏o̸̰̞͙̐̋̓̊͂̕͠ȕ̷̺̯͔͈̦̯̑̃͊́͊͝ ̴͎̘͔̯̰̪͔̝̆͘h̵̢̼̭̺̪̜̤̋̿̐͜ę̶̡̞̪̟̟͍̣͕̘͗̀l̷̡̥̱̟̳̇̏͜p̸̲͎̘̰͎͖̥̳̱̽ ̸͈̪̜̘̭̲̭̻͑̾̌͌͐̂h̵̨̡͍̰̲͍̪͇̆̈̋͋ế̵̡͈̬̜͙̮̼͚̼̯̇̿͒̽͝͠ŗ̸̠̠̩̥͌̽͝?̴̛̳͍̯͈̤̞̲̒

Angel shook as she begged for death, shrieking cries begging for him to stop the fire from burning, that she could feel the fire burning her soul away. Angel sobbed and sobbed, clutching Molly’s body to his chest, her cries of pain muffled only when he buried his face in her hair and screamed himself. The jazz wailed along with Alastors roaring laughter, the static of the radio buzzing with the ringing of his ears. The Wendigos hollow pulling screeches served as a background to Molly’s own cries of anguish. The noise was too much, it was all too much. He clutched his screaming twin closer and sobbed harder. 

“Anthony please….” She whimpered, a sharp gasp and cry of pain renewed as her body fell into further decay, the tear on her wrist ripping further, seems in her face popping, dried grass peeking through her hair and eyelashes, “Please Anthony kill me,” She sobbed, “I can feel it burnin me away from inside of me, Please… kill me please….” she begged, crying like when she was 6 and had broken her arm falling off of the countertop. She was so small then… She gasped loudly in pain and cried looking into his eyes. Angel looked down at his sister with tears spilling through his lashes, her stitched mouth contorted and twisted in pain “PLEASE ANTHONY!” she convulsed in pain and begged, truly, deeply, begged for him to kill her.

W̶̛̙͈̝̰̜͚̳̫̻̟͈̦̏̒̾͒͋̊͌͒̇̾̕H̸͕͙́͌͋͜Ỳ̷̧͈̜̬̩͕͈̙͉͇̊̊̄͌ͅ ̵̧̡̨̹̦͙̠͊̃̆̊̈́͐̓͛͗̋̕ͅW̸͉̟͖̗̦͔̉̄̊̾͑̊��̃O̴̡̦̯̦̹̱̥̮̺̙͙͙͂͠N̴̯̫͔͚̻̑̽̈̓̆̀̈̋̊͜͠T̶̢͈̀̈́͛́̀̈́̚͠ ̴̛̤͈̦̠͎̬̭͓̂͗̃̓́̇̈́̈́͋͜Y̶̧̢̛͈̟̻̜͗̊͑̀̄̈͌̆̅̍́Ȏ̸͓̗̳̲̆̈̔̋̇͛͠ͅU̷̡̮̺͓̞̱̳̺̖̹̣͐͗̾̈́̑̀̐̇̅͒̄ͅͅ ̵̢̞͕̮̩̗̤͗Ḧ̴͍̳́̀̀̎̃̕͠È̶̫̲͎̉̽̚Ļ̸̢̛̼͇̟͉̭̯̟͎̱̭̹͛̈́́̌̇́̈̋̈͛̾̚P̴̧̱̱̤͓͇̲͑̍̇͑͠ ̷̲̗̳͚͔͖͎̯̗̲͎͓̣̍̽̈́́̌̃̈́̔͗̐Ḧ̴͔̗̋̂̅̇́̉̃͛̕͠Ë̶̗͔͍̪̜̙̘̲̫́̎̓͊̏͛̈̅R̸͖̜̪͚͇̰̮̥͒́͌̿̅̍͜?̶̢̭̘̺̲̗̗̾͑̒͜

“STOP IT!!” Angel screamed, Molly screaming anew. “STOP! Just… Stop it- I…” Angel’s body wracked with sorrow. 

He pressed his forehead to hers, tears streaming down his face and squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not her, not again.

Angel let out a choking sob against Molly’s hair as he tucked her under his chin, not again. The beasts screaming echoed deep throughout Angel’s body, Molly’s cries of pain somehow louder. The ringing of his ears, the static laden laugher still screaming from the gramophone. 

“What’s the matter Angel?” Alastors silky voice asked in his ear as the spider sobbed.

Angel rocked back and forth with his burlap and hay sister in his arms, her cries of agony cutting through the torment of the creature and the jazz. His tired and burning red eyes burst with tears, digging channels in his chapped and matted cheeks, pain coursing through his entire body. His ragged and pained gasps for air between sobs chipping further away at him, sanity long gone at this point, the horror of losing his beloved sister staring him in the face again, taunting him.

A̴̢̬̫̤̮̗̙͉̬̐̃͗͐ͅṘ̷̯͋̊̏̈́͑͆̎̋͝É̶̛̥̥̭̥̜̙͎̦̭͔͗̽̓ ̶̲̹̖̓͂͌̈́̌͋́͑̓͜Y̴͚̗̼̘̰̬̏́͌̿̔̄͌͘͘Ȍ̸̢̯̥̟̲̗̈̓͋̂̾Ụ̵̦̹̣̹̱͔̞́̀ ̷̼̄̉̉̍͌͐̈͘͝S̷͕̼̜̙̮̃̋̽̋̾̈͠͠Ç̵̪̙̜̞̫̠̯̊͆̎͜͠͝Ḁ̵̡̮̭̪̼̌͜͝Ṙ̵̨̝̘̻͖͇͔̆͊̆͊̽̓̋͜E̶͉͕͙̘̟͕̭͒͑̆͝ͅͅD̸̢̼̰̗̟͍̗̈́̑͗͜?̴̯͉̻̂̏͑̋̅̌̉͘͜

The question booms out in Angels head, sending shockwaves through his body and causing him to cling tighter to Molly, her shrieks of pain loud in his ear. Yes, he whimpered helplessly, he was terrified. He was so close to loosing her again he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except cling to her. 

W̵̧̥̹͎̖͌̎̌̍́̀́̌̆̽̈́̑̔̕̚Ĥ̶̢̧͙̮̻̯̭͎͕͇̣͓͉̱̋̒͊͜͠͝͝ͅÂ̶͖̣̰͓͖̔͑̔̀͐̆́̀̚͘̕͜͝͝T̴̛̛͈̮̮̲̪͎͓́̆͌͊̄̔͘̕͜ͅͅ ̸̲͐̂̈́́͂̍̇͝Ẃ̵̜̝̺͛͊͋͒̆̽͗̃͘͘̚͠Ȉ̷̩͕͙͕̦̪͙͚̟̫̻̙͖͍̋̊́͒̾̉͜L̵̢̟̩̾̿ͅL̶̨̨̝͈̤͙̺̯̗̳̪͖̑͒͗́̿̄̋̓̀̔̉̑͘͝ ̶͔̰̣͓̩̥̙͙̩̺̠́̓̿̽͊̋̃͛̀͐̎́͌͜Y̸̮͎͍̥̮̻͉͆̿͂̾̋̊͛͊̔̄̉́͘̚̚͘ͅO̸̡̖̱̗͎̬̙̼̗̒̈́͋̇͆̉̀̆̊̍͘̚͜Ư̶̩̦̺͖̲̽͗͌̏̔̀̀̿̃̀͂́̚̕͝ ̵̳̳̜́̈́̓͊̈́͂͂̇̃̈͗́̎͂̊͂D̵̘̤̼̙͓̼̼̑̅Ǫ̶̻͍̽̌͐̑̓͛̆̚͠?̴̘̹̳̻̰̝̗̻͖̉̐̑ͅͅ

To save Molly? Anything, he thought instantly. He would do anything to stop her pain and see her smile again, anything to hear her laugh and end her tormented cries. He would give anything, do anything to end this, to stop hearing her terror filled and anguished cries of pain. As it was, her screams would haunt him for the rest of his life, her screams were etched deeply forever in Angels mind. What remained of Molly’s body twitched and writhed in pain in his arms, “ANTHONY PLEASE!! ITS BURNING AWAY MY SOUL!! KILL ME PLEASE!!”

“Anything?” Alastor crooned, his cognac smooth tone a gentle kiss. The demon wrapped his standard solid frame around Angel, the back of his hand gently brushing against his cheek, the other wrapped around Angel’s shoulder under his arm, fingers toying lightly at the exposed skin of his shoulder through the rips of his sweater. Angel didn’t even react as the buck pressed his chest firmly to Angel’s back, too broken and traumatized, only able to focus on Molly’s screams, “ANTHONY PLEASE!! OH GOD ITS BURNING!!”

Angel gasped and turned his head into his own chest, jaw and eyes clenched in a body wracking sob. “MAKE IT STOP!” He yelled out, Molly and the Wendigo screaming, the jazz violent and wild in the swirling green magic that surrounded them, popping and burning against the fabric and flesh. Alastor leans in closer, nuzzling the spiders cheek, pressing his lips to Angel’s bloody temple, “Say it,” The Radio Demon lowered his eyes and caressed the spiders wet cheek, his free hand slowly wandering up Angel’s chest towards his throat. 

Angel’s body was numb with pain and grief. His mind was blank, he could barely breathe. The screams, the ringing of his ears and Molly’s shrieking cries of pain echoed in his bones, her body twitching and screaming to die, the hollow call of the creature and the laughter of the shadows of demons blaring through the static of the radio. Angel stared defeated and broken into the eyes of his sister, her red eyes bursting with new tears with each wail of agony. 

“I’ll do anything….” He rasped out, broken and hollow, “Just help her…. Make her stop hurting…” He curled into himself, eyes clenched, tears streaming through the cracks, his body rocking slowly as he sobbed, Molly screaming in his broken arms. “Make her stop…” he gasped weakly “M-make her stop….Make her stop…. ” He rocked back and forth sobbing, Alastor rest his cheek against Angels temple, a lecherous smirk plastered wide on his face, clawed fingers gently brushing through his hair, his free hand delicately clasped around his throat as the screams of the Wendigo suffocated the air.

In an instant Angels eyes snapped open, locked on the demon standing feet before him in the doorway. Alastor was standing still before him, staff in hand, arms folded behind his back, a syrupy wicked smirk on his face. Angel exhaled and looked down. He’s shirtless, no cuts on his hands, no bruises or scrapes or Molly in his arms. He’s fine, standing a few steps into a medium sized bedroom, a small fire crackling warmly to his right, a bed covered in purple velvet linens to his left.

Angel stared at the demon, panting, eyes wide in confusion, what the fuck…. What was happening…. It had all been so real, her screams still ringing in his ears… Other than some other random pieces of furniture, and some paintings, there was nothing out of the ordinary about where he was now, it was just a bedroom at the hotel not so different from Angel’s own further up the hall. Angels eyes darted around the room as he panted in confusion, this didn’t make any sense, what…. What the fuck had just happened…. His mind raced with fear and chaos, it felt so real, he looked down at his hands, they had just been soaked in her blood, he had just been holding her, sobbing as Molly begged for him to kill her… and now, they were clean, no cuts, no scrapes, no stabbing pain when he took a breath or ringing in his ears or screaming in the air….

Alastor tilted Angels head up ever so slightly with the tip of his claw, staring at him with the softest eyes. Angel jumped and gasped weakly in fear, he had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Alastor approach him at all, “Darling,” The Radio Demon cooed, his smouldering gaze meeting Angel’s terror filled eyes, a crystal tear already tumbling down his cheek, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Alastor leaned in closer, brows twisted in concern, fingers gently tracing the line of the spiders jaw “you look a bit pale.” He tilted his face in closer, lips grazing Angels.

Angels eyes snapped wider in terror and he quickly retracted, turning quickly on his heel and pushing past Alastor, he launched himself off of the doorframe and down the hall, sprinting for the safety of his own bedroom. He had no idea what the fuck had just happened, but he never wanted it to happen again.

Alastors gleeful cackle rang after him down the hall, the demon tumbling over himself in hysterical laughter as Angel ran quickly away, fear etching a vow to never even look at the radio demon again. Alastor laughed in devilish delight as he considered what favor he would ask of Angel for ending his sisters pain. “He did say anything,” The Radio Demon mused, another wave of chilling laughter darkening the halls of the Hazbin Hotel.

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

check out my buy me a coffee!

[lumibuns-blog]

Simon Riley x reader

Idk what to call this but I made a fic where Simon "Ghost" Riley falls for Johnny's female roomie cuz it's been clanking around in my head for days. Also now I can finally use the time I've spent in the UK having to listen to stupid slang and banter to use💪

Also reader is a girl that's like a main plot point👍Okay enjoy!

"Ya sure this is okay mate?" Kyle asked, slightly apprehensive as he entered the apartment

"'Course it's okay!" Johnny beamed, closing the door behind them "asked 'em 'forehand anyway"

Simon just grunted and started to remove his boots. The boys had a week off from being stationed at base and though most would use this time to go home and visit family, that option wasn't really in the cards for the three.

Kyle's family had gone on vacation, he had grumbled something about "lef' me 'ta holiday in the tropics". And Simon...well his family situation was...something, so Johnny had very graciously offered to host them at his apartment for the week. Just one problem, he had forgotten to let his friends know the roommate he lived with was a girl. Not only that, but he hadn't actually checked to see if you read his last minute message. Not that he had actually had the foresight to ask if you were okay with 2 men you had never met sleeping in your apartment for a week. He texted something along the lines of "omw back" quickly followed by "bringing the boys with"

You had been napping and hadn't seen his text, and you were too groggy as you woke up and shuffled to get dressed to even notice the sounds of footsteps in the front room.

"Just set ya shite by the couch 'fer now" Johnny commented as he walked into the open kitchen

Simon took a moment to scan over the apartment. There were the obvious signs of Johnny's presence scattered all around the room. A couple of empty chip bags, an X-box with the wires of the controller's tangled into one big mess, his army green sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch, his preferred brand of cereal stood haphazardly on the counter, even those stupid Crocs he bought a year ago were by the front door. But something felt off, he knew his friend lived with a roommate but there was something strange about the other items in the flat he couldn't put his finger on.

A hairbrush was set on the coffee table, the cups that he caught a glimpse of as Johnny opened the cupboard seemed a little too nice, a small tube of hand lotion was set on the counter, and a pair of shoes that seemed a little too small and a little too clean were (unlike Johnny's) placed on the Ikea shoe rack by the door.

Kyle's voice suddenly broke him from his thoughts, "thought ya 'ad a roommate soap? Where they at?"

"They're 'ere" Johnny chimed, closing the fridge door with his hip and pouring himself some juice "probably just in 'they room" he took one sip from the glass "hold on lads let me get 'em"

He rounded the corner into the small hallway and disappeared from Simon and Kyle's line of sight. Kyle looked over to the blonde, who had (for once) forgone his usual balaclava in favor of a simple black face mask, Simon just shrugged.

They heard the turning of a doorknob at the end of the hallway, the hinges squeaking as it began to open.

"Aye come out 'ere a sec-"

A high pitched, startled noise could be heard before..."JOHNNY WHAT THE FUCK MAN GET OUT!" your voice rang through the apartment clear as day.

Simon and Kyle's head's whipped around to face each other, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in Simon's head. Johnny's roommate was a chick.

"Sweet Jesus! Sorry lass didnae know ya were 'gon tae changin' in 'ere" Johnny blurted out apologetically.

"YEAH THATS WHY YOU KNOCK FIRST DUMBASS!" you continued to berate him as he stood in the door way with his hand covering eyes.

"Well how the 'ell was I 'sposed know what'chu was doin' in 'ere?" he fought back

"MAYBE BY NOT BARGING IN HERE OUT OF NOWHERE?!" Your voice strained with frustration and embarrassment

There was a brief moment of silence before-

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" A small thud could be heard as one of your shirts collided with the side of his head.

"Okay, okay I'm goin'!" he closed the door "creepin' Jesus..." he sighed

He slowly rounded the corner back into the kitchen, holding your oversized T-shirt in one of his hands. He looked up to see the gobsmacked faces of his two friends

"Wot?"

"Could've at least told us 'yer rooming with a girl" Kyle muttered, looking sheepishly towards the tile floor

"Thought I mentioned that?" Johnny said plainly

"Well, ya didn't" Simon grumbled, pausing a moment before continuing "she certainly seems...spirited"

"Nah 'hat's nothin', you should see 'er when I eat 'er scraps" he smirked "just 'bout killed me last time"

Simon couldn't help but notice the glass Johnny had poured earlier, it seemed to be some sort of fruit juice cocktail, something his friend probably wouldn't have bought for himself...

"Well-" Johnny swung his arm out dramatically as he attempted to fill the silence. Yet in that moment, the bra that, unbeknownst to you, had been tucked within the shirt he was now holding, flew to the floor.

"Shit-" Johnny went to quickly pick it up as his two friends respectfully averted their gaze from your undergarments.

"Wait..." Johnny paused to look up at the both of them "is it weird fer me to go grabbin' at it?" He asked in full honesty

Disappointed looks are what greeted him,

"Mate-"

"Bruv..."

They heard your door open suddenly and all embarrassment was forgotten as your roommate quickly picked up the bra and folded it back into the shirt before setting it on the counter

"Seriously man what were you thinking? Going to have to get a lock if you keep this up. Anyway what were you-" you stopped as you rounded the corner to find not only your roommate, but two other large men in your living area.

"Oh!" You started "Hey..." you trailed off apprehensively

Simon and Kyle both got their first proper look at you. A tight tank top clung to your figure and loose sweatpants hung from your hips, your hair haphazardly tied up with strands poking out in every direction. It then became clear to them at that moment you had not been expecting any company.

Kyle cleared his throat, ready to introduce himself, but his friend beat him to it

"These are the lads 've told ya about" Johnny began with a boyish grin, gesturing widely to his two friends, as if he was showing them off.

"From work?" you questioned

"Yup"

You then looked back to the two men in question and they both instinctively stood up a bit straighter "Ghost and...Gaz? Right?" you asked, pointing from one to the other, tilting you head in a way that was undeniably adorable to all three of them.

"'hat's us" Kyle responded brightly "Soap 'as talked 'bout you but I never caught ya name"

You gave it to them with no hesitation, before turning to Johnny "soap?" You teased, cocking one eyebrow

"It's ma' call sign lass, didnae be makin' fun of it now" he shook his finger in your face

"Yeah sure it is" you brushed him off before your eyes met the cup on the counter, you slowly turned back to him,

"What did I say about drinking my shit?!" You questioned with an accusatory tone.

"Is' just a glass" Johnny whined

You delivered a a harsh slap to his bicep "if you're going to be drinking it tell me so I can buy more, I'm tired of runnin' to the store every other day" you sighed

You moved through the kitchen closer to Simon and Kyle, opening the fridge and scanning its contents before turning to the both of them "I'll be going out, you two want anything?" You asked

They both just looked at you completely speechless and slightly confused.

"What? I assume you are probably going to be staying this week while that idiot" you gestured with your thumb to Johnny "has time off, so ya want anything from the store?" Your intuition had to be applauded.

"No we're jus' fine" Simon finally spoke. His deep voice, though not shocking, still made your hair stand on end.

"Alright then" you clapped your hands and maneuvered yourself through the small space in between the two men, a shiver ran down their spine as your front and back brushed against each of their sides, respectively

"I'm going to the gym then I'll hit the store on the way back" you say over your shoulder, grabbing your shoes "you need anything Mactavish?"

"Get some-"

"-More of the juice and the butterscotch crisps?" You finished his sentence for him and he waved his hand dismissively "you're so predictable" you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips

Simon watched as the Johnny's mouth began to form a smile of his own "I 'ave to do the washing, you got any thing ya need cleaned?" He threw back

"Lights or colors?"

"Lights"

"Then wash that shirt I threw at you"

The wicked smile now fully formed on Johnny's face as his friends watched on in surprise and burning embarrassment.

"What 'bout this 'ere?" Johnny teased, now holding your light blue bra up for everyone to see, pinching one of the straps as if it were contaminated

"What are you-" Simon and Kyle watched the confused expression on your face turn into horror then very quickly into undeniable anger

You stormed back across the flat and snatched you bra from his hand "John Mactavish you disgusting little prick" you growled "I am going to kill you one of these days and let me promise you, it will be slow" you leaned over him and pointed a finger in this face, your hight difference forcing him to bend over backwards slightly.

You threw your bra back in your room and quickly stomped back to the door "I'll be back in a couple hours" you called over your shoulder "do me a favor and kick his shit in while I'm gone eh?" You smiled towards Simon and Kyle before shutting the door behind you.

A moment of silence fell over the three,

"So how long has she been 'aving to put up wit' yer ass?" Simon asked plainly

"Little over a year now...-- oye? Whatchu mean 'put up wit' me' I'm a delight to live with"

"Clearly" Kyle rolled his eyes

"Too bad she's got such an attitude" Johnny sighed "she'd be a bonnie lass if she quit yellin' all the damn time"

"I'm sure you give her plenty of reasons to" Kyle groaned and Simon just nodded in agreement

"Ay haud yer wheesht" Johnny bit back "'member who's puttin' you lads up for a week"

The banter continued but Simon could agree with his friend on at least one point, you were bloody stunning. He just couldn't get the quizzical look you had given him out of his head, nor the way you had said his call sign so plainly. 'What had soap told you 'bout him?' He really couldn't help but wonder, wonder and pray it was the good stuff. Though knowing soap, it probably wasn't. His call sign had sounded so sweet when it came from your lips, he needed to know how it would sound when you called him by his given name. What sort of faces would you make if he poked fun at you like soap did? what if he were to be sweet to you? Did you cook? If so he needed to taste it immediately. What kind of expression would you make when you're all relaxed? How would it feel to take those pouty, pursed lips against his own and-

'Nope nope nope', Simon physically shook the thought from his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. You were his friends roommate and who he would be living with for a week, he had to be respectful.

"You good mate?" Gaz asked

"Fine" he replied flatly

He couldn't really understand why but he wanted you to get home from whatever you were doing immediately, it was like a burning fire had suddenly started inside him and it could only be dowsed by seeing you and having you close to him.

Johnny knew that look in his Lieutenant's eyes, recognizing the faint emotion they betrayed

'Damn smitten bastard' Johnny huffed before showing them where they would be sleeping.

Uhhh I probably will make more for this soon so stick around<3

@yumethefrostypanda for the visual I used🫶

[occamstfs]

Slice of Italy

After an accident outside a local Italian restaurant, Jonathan finds himself itching to hop in the kitchen himself.

Bear TF with all that implies! In other news I think I'm going to go down to one story a week, been spending a little too much energy here. May open commissions if there is an interest there? Who knows! At any rate, enjoy this story! -Occam

It wasn’t even Jonathan’s fault the statue was broken. His clearly too drunk friends were jacking around and not listening to his voice of reason. The poor DD was just standing closest when it was inevitably knocked over and shattered. If he had followed their lead and fled, it’s likely they’d all be off scot-free, but his need to atone for his friend’s actions in whatever paltry way he could led him to start gathering the scattered pieces.

Hearing the shattering plaster, the hostess runs outside with a gasp as she takes in the scene. She stares in shock at Jonathan before retreating inside to surely grab someone more important. Jonathan is again left with the all too desirable option of flight, staring at pieces of the stereotypical Italian chef he sighs and keeps to his principles, slowly picking up pieces.

Really he did them a favor, he’s always hated the thing. Creepy little thing. He’s been coming here all his life and it’s always seemed like the eyes have followed him. Seeing them lifeless and cracked on the ground doesn’t make them any less eerie though. Nor does the disembodied plaster smirk lying askew to their side. Before he can shudder Jonathan jumps as the door to the restaurant slams open and out comes a burly manager, “Ah c’mon kid, now why’d ya go and do that?” 

Jonathan drops the shards of the statue he still held in shock as he stammers to explain that really he’s not at fault. Never especially good at doing anything but ceding ground to authority figures he immediately folds, “I well, um it wasn’t really my fault um. It was, uh- I’ll do whatever I can to make this right. I-” Looking in the young man’s eyes the manager sighs and waves him off, “No no kid don’t you- Accident’s happen. Hmph Cavallo loved that statue though hah!” There’s a sadness in his eyes as he looks at the shattered man once more before returning his gaze to Johnathan with a squint.

“You’re the youngest Clark boy eh?” Correct, though now well an adult, there remains a tinge of irritation any time it’s brought up that he will always be the youngest, the smallest, no matter how long time treks onward. Still, not the time, “Yes sir.” The manager scratches the back of his head and motions the younger man inside, “Why don’t you come in, I’ll have one of my hosts sweep up the mess later.” Jonathan furrows his brow as he’s ushered inside, any attempts he makes at offering his hand to do the dirty work are met with hems and haws from the manager as he is instead led into an office in the back of house.

“You just sit here Jonny and I’ll uh- Hm?” He pauses and looks at Jonathan, no, past Jonathan. As if he’s staring through the young man and seeing something beyond. Something different. Seconds pass and a pit grows in Jonathan’s stomach as the manager twitches soundlessly, wanting the moment to pass he calls out to the man, “Romeo? You alright?” 

Focus returns to the manager’s eyes and he laughs, “Hah! Of course, sorry about that sir! You just let me know if you need anything Mr. Clark.” With that he does a nod and closes the door behind himself, there’s the click of a lock but Jonathan doesn’t notice as he instead hones in on the fact that he just called the manager by his name.

He racks his mind to remember if he introduced himself, the manager did recognize him after all? Perhaps they’ve met before. He chews on the idea and tries to ignore the feeling of pulling the man’s name from some place in his mind he doesn’t have access to. Maybe he was wearing a name tag. Of course, with a sigh of relief tension fades from his chest before he even realizes how tight it had become from anxiety. He has all employees wear name tags after all, helps the customers feel at home.

After a second of rest he is struck with the implications of that flitting thought. He what!? Tightness in his chest returns with a furor as memories or meetings with teams of people he doesn’t recognize flash through his mind. Planning a culture, running shifts, designing a restaurant. Clutching at his chest with one hand and his head with the other Jonathan worries he’s losing it and goes to sit down. Reflexively opting for the cushy desk chair behind the desk rather than either of the two by the door. “God it was just a tacky statue, why am I having an episode about this!?” 

Sitting in the boss’ chair Jonathan finds himself growing unreasonably warm. Sweat drips from his brow as he tries to bring to mind strategies one would use to soothe a panic attack. Looking for something solid in the room to focus on Jonathan sees a photo of the owner standing next to the gaudy statue. Grimacing, through grinding teeth he grunts out a “not helpful.” Even less helpful is the ensuing migraine, as it pangs he blinks concertedly and upon reopening his eyes he finds the image has shifted to one of himself standing next to the statue, a too large smile plastered on his face just like that of the god-awful statue. Somewhere repressed within him the phrase ‘happiest day of my life’ pings, though his conscious mind resounds with an image of his college graduation.

Clearly unable to find peace in this room he fights against his perpetually pliant instincts and stands to leave despite Romeo’s request. Now standing, he realizes something bizarre has seemingly begun to happen to his body. It’s like he’s bloated? Looking down he sees buttons on his shirt suddenly straining. His indisputably slim waist has begun to expand. The sensation of being starved and sated paradoxically rise at once within Gionathan as he feels the sudden urge, an otherworldly need to burp. He chokes it down at first but as his waist continues to strain, now revealing skin in between buttons as his chest too begins to bulge he is unable to stop the rising gas.

Polite young man he is, even as it erupts he tries to at least quiet his burp, which only causes it to burst with more force. Louder than those performative burps that blare from his less than couth cohort, his face burns with embarrassment despite being alone in the room. His body doesn’t stop at one either, he belches uncontrollably as body inches larger with each release. Quickly bursting buttons off the front of his shirt and freeing a torso that, alongside growing a healthy layer of weight, has begun to itch.

His blonde treasure trail has slowly begun to thicken as his fingers furiously scratch into his new weightier gut. Not noticing the definitive muscle hiding beneath he instead balks as he feels his light body hair spread out and upwards. Sticky sweat still covering his form as the heat has not abated in the slightest he looks down to observe the unfamiliar curves sticking out from his chest as his few nearly invisible chest hairs begin to thicken in the center of his chest, meeting the still rising furry patch on his stomach. 

The movement of his arms bring a new change to his mind as they too have not been spared from these must be imagined changes. New biceps breach the open air as they bulge large enough to tear the sleeves into tatters, not obscene but simply too large to be restrained by his usually loose fitting button-up. Gionathan has never been especially proud of his figure, but looking down and seeing something more akin to the countless forms of men he’s masturbated to throughout the years brings a new, less terryfying emotion to whatever this nightmare is.

Gionathan feels butterflies in his chest as he clutches at definitive pecs that now lie on top of it. He bites his lip as the idea that there’s now something you can grab there shoots a wave of static into his mind. Knees almost giving way as he takes time to explore his changes, Gionathan returns to sit in his chair and feel himself up. As he continues to chew on his lip to avoid moaning, his eyes remain shut to allow his imagination to flourish. 

This leaves him unaware of the tan that has begun to tint his changing body. Having not been exposed to sunlight in well over a decade, pasty is almost too generous a word to describe his pale torso. And yet, as his thickening hands trail across his meatier waist and play with a chest still growing weightier, his skin darkens to one naturally sun-kissed. 

Wider palms smearing sweat across an expanding torso, his mind begins to drift. Playing with chest hair as it grows thicker his fingertips almost accidentally come across nipples that have grown extensively as his pecs begins to bulge larger. Beginning to play with them his changes begin to accelerate. His mouth scrunches up as itches begin to burn across his face. Stubble that has been kept off his face from a once-a-week shave rapidly rears its head before it thickens en masse. Sideburns shove themselves wider to cover the whole of his cheeks before expanding under his chin as each follicle surges larger and darkens.

Green eyes flicker brown as Gionovan’s suddenly dark stubble quickly leaks upward, staining his pert blonde coif dirty, then brown, before finally turning as black as the curls that have begun to overtake his chest. Each strand changes as his hands continue to dance and delight in his bulkier body. His mouth scrunches as a mustache he’s never dreamed of growing begins to bulge out of his upper lip. Thicker than the hair on his head as memories of his hairline retreating over the years begin to assert themselves into his memory. Coffee dark eyes twitch while remaining closed, his hands trail up to his neck and come across scratchy stubble as he realizes that something is happening beyond skin deep changes. 

Pausing his reverie, the young man no longer’s eyes open to see a name plate on his desk, Gionovan Clarvallo. “No, tha’s not-” He clutches at his throat as his voice rumbles deeper. Gionovan stands with a start and the sound of the seat of his pants tearing open resounds in the room. He groans and leans on the table as thighs grow wide and his ass expands into quite a powerful cushion. Clenching his stubble hidden jaw he can barely even realize that he lost something when he languished in his changing form. The label young man doesn’t quite apply anymore as smile crinkles crack around his eyes. His mind races once more to find things to hold onto.

He’s Gionovan Clarvallo. He’s lived in this town for most of his life, or no he lived in the city for a while didn’t he? The man groans as two lifetimes crash into each other like a fusion reaction. His studies evaporate to be replaced by prodigious years at culinary school. His gap year fades as recollections of traveling New York City to find hidden gems and expand his palette grow increasingly vivid, and unknowingly vital to who he is. Once more Gionovan feels a rising need to burp. Hand curling into a fist he covers his mouth and he sees dark curls bathe down his fore arm.

The forest of hair that had only just begun to decorate his chest and stomach rapidly begins to thicken to cover every inch of his form as he struggles once more against pressure rising up his throat. Gionovan launches into a fit of belching once more. With each release his body changes further, jungle of chest hair spreading further, expanding and thickening, growing dark enough to completely hide tanned skin beneath it. His whole body grows wider, taller, heavier. Sweat trails down the side of his torso as his wildly increasing haven of pit hair drips with his new heady musk. Pants burst to shreds as his thighs grow to a size that can scarcely be covered while newly hairy shoulders grow bulkier to match his thickening neck and the weighty arms they are charged to maneuver. 

Clutching at his stomach as it expands and grows fluffier with both darkening hair and comfortable weight, Gionovan realizes something. He tastes food more delicious than he’s ever experienced before dancing across his tongue. Flavors unfathomable and unfamiliar make their home in his mouth as his body continues to morph with every heaving release. Pesto sears his sinuses as the waistband of his underwear begins to struggle against his expanding ass and the suddenly monolithic testament to his masculinity bulging in his crotch. Airy gelato cleanses his palate as his stomach begins to hang over said waistband as his legs grow thick enough to send tears in the elastic and curls grow thick enough across them to be a pelt. The aftertaste of rich creamy fresh tomato pasta overwrites more and more of who he once was as memories of his time in the kitchen and traveling the world for new tastes chips away at whatever edges of Jonathan that remain.

As he sits in the office, his office, rubbing at a torso that is rapidly becoming a hairy musclegut, he scratches at his thickening beard as a strange instinct rises as the aftertastes, or memories rather, continue to ephemerally rise. He could cook better than that. It’s why he opened his restaurant after all. To offer nothing but the best to this little town. To help ensure that every inch of the world has to experience the heavenly flavors he’s been so fortunate to enjoy. It’s why he opened his Slice of Italy. Standing with a grunt, there’s a knock on the office door and he realizes that he is almost completely nude. With a gasp, Giovanni clears his throat and calls out, “One minute Romeo!” 

He goes to a cabinet in the corner and pulls out a change of clothes, well-suited to his massive form. He’s learned that a man of his size, and passion, should always keep an outfit on standby, after all it’s impossible to predict what any odd day will hold. Quickly struggling into the clothes he figures it’s about time to go up a size as gets the snug clothes on. Smiling at a picture of himself with the statue out front, Giovanni Cavallo goes to unlock his office door and greet his manager. Romeo smirks knowingly at the restaurant’s owner and executive chef before directing the massive man’s attention to a couple of younger men standing uncomfortably near the entrance.

“Evening Hon. Those two over there are the ones that uh, broke the display.” Giovanni puts his meaty hand on Romeo’s shoulder and with a wink rumbles out, “Thanks Rome. Know I can always count on you.” Matching silver bands appear on the fingers of both men and Romeo rolls his eyes before heading off to manage the front of house before the dinner rush is to begin. Giovanni then turns his attention to the hellions awaiting his reprimanding. Sizing them up he imagines what retribution they are to undergo. They could just pay for damages but where’s the fun in that. After all he was always quite fond of that little guy, almost a spitting image of himself he thinks with a smirk, not nearly as hot though. Flexing involuntarily he meets the pair and they immediately squeal.

The pair toss each other under the bus before Giovanni even has a chance to open his mouth and the massive chef scowls. No, these two need to be taught a lesson. At the clearing of his throat the bickering rats are struck mute and stare up at the owner. The kitchen could use a couple new junior chefs. Imagining the two men before him shaping up to fine young professionals under his tutelage, he has no recourse but to offer they work off the damages, “You boys any good in the kitchen?” Shiftily looking at each other the idea seems easy enough and in no time at all Romeo’s tossed them aprons and they’re in the back of house working up a sweat.

They find themselves more at home prepping vegetables and decorating dishes than they do in their actual homes. Quickly do they become acclimated enough to the kitchen that doing anything else is anathema to them. Their light hair rapidly shades darker and their outfits adapt to become suitable to the jobs they enjoy so much. The pair of once ruffians shift and stretch as their physiques become impressive as Giovanni’s was way back when he was their age. Wandering about his restaurant, the executive greets guests and compliments his staff, driving them to strive even harder to make him proud. 

When he gets to his two newest hires, Alessio and Angelo, Giovanni watches them sprout taller as beards race to thicken and hide their shy smirks from his praise. Patting them on the back both men struggle to focus on their tasks at hand as his attention brings them more satisfaction than they could imagine. Commenting on their impressive figures he offers to show them the ropes at the gym in their free time and the junior chefs make eye contact as their biceps bulge larger. Giovanni laughs heartily, bringing a smile to everyone within earshot as they continue to craft the perfect slice of Italy in this small town. “You boys remind me of when I was younger heh, Keep up the good work!”

With that Giovanni goes to stand sentinel at the entrance and welcome guests in. In lieu of his little standee someone’s gotta be the first smiling face that guests see, and given how smooth nights at Giovanni’s Slice of Italy always are, his presence is superfluous. He’s just happy to be here and every day the titan strives to make sure that every guest and employee is as well.

[hyperballart]

last nite

art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader !

art and patrick aren’t exactly subtle, and you are the push they didn’t know they needed.

(18+ pls!!)

author’s note: that one bitch (me) who doesn’t play about homoerotic friendships… this is mostly artrick but they all get nasty trust!

the swishing of the cheap beer from art’s mini fridge overlaps the song playing from the radio. it was something you recognized from this new york band you really liked—your friend had gifted you that record for your birthday a few years prior—you hummed out the tune as you sat on the desk chair of your friend’s dorm room, periodically lifting your gaze to the two boys also sharing the space.

you and patrick met at a local band’s show, that same night ended with you being pushed into the dark bathroom of the bar it was held at and you nearly swallowing each other’s tongues. he whispered into your ear about how good you tasted, how nice your ass felt in his hands, how fucking sexy you looked dancing out there. and after he bent you over the sink to get a taste of your sweet cunt and you returned the favor, the brunette gave you his number—it surprised you, that he wanted to continue seeing you and maybe take it further. it wasn’t until a couple hangouts that you met art.

he was by definition a good boy. always respectful and cordial around you, sweet, and even bashful at times. you coincidentally attended the same university—even shared common friends other than patrick. the three of you became well acquainted quickly. movie nights in art’s dorm when patrick came to visit, night drives to the beach, it was all simple and fun.

of course you and patrick hooked up whenever he came around, which seemed to frequent as he was on a month-long break from tour. on one of those particular nights, as you were riding him, somehow the topic of art came up.

“saw him at practice last week,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and slightly tug, “he’s really good.”

patrick stutters his hips and unwillingly twitches inside of you, as if images of his best friend playing flashed through his brain in those few seconds, “fuck, yeah he’s always been good.” his brain is too foggy to comprehend that he’s given away something you’ve been suspecting for a while—and you’ll keep digging to find what you really want.

you look down at him on the bed and notice how his mouth has dropped a bit further and his eyes become more slanted, you push your fingers into his mouth which he automatically starts to suck, and you ride him until he’s whimpering around them and filling you up. you’ll get something else out of him soon.

the next time happens to be the night right after, you’re at your favorite ice cream place and decide it’s the right time to keep prodding.

“you and art—you seem pretty close—how long have you known each other again?” you scrape the sides of your cup from the melted treat and look at him eating his.

“well, we went to boarding school together,” patrick speaks with some waffle cone bits crunching in his mouth—a horrible habit of his you have come to detest from the few months of knowing him—“we shared a room since we were 12, i think i’ve mentioned this,” he swallows everything in his mouth down and continues, “we are pretty close. we’d get teased for it a lot in school—i never really gave a fuck but you know art. he takes things to heart.”

“right, i can see that,” you didn’t exactly plan out how you were going to lead him to where you wanted but you get an idea, “i wanna know more. tell me some fun stories, i can imagine you two got up to a lot of trouble,” you fully turn to face him in your seat.

he racks his brain for a while and eventually, “one time i got caught with porno magazines under my bed and i blamed art. it was this whole thing—his grandma gave him an earful over the phone—god she was pissed,” a chuckle leaves him as he recalls the story, “anyway, we almost got kicked out and he didn’t speak to me for weeks. can’t remember how we made up or how i even got in possession of those magazines but we definitely learned our lesson.”

you’re giggling, “god you’re awful, what else have you put poor innocent art through?”

he turns to face you now, “i taught him everything he knows,” a smug smirk slowly takes over his expression, “ taught him how to kiss and how to jerk off. poor thing didn’t even know how to handle morning wood before i showed him.”

and there’s your chance, “so you two have like…”

he pauses and takes in your assumption, “oh god no, not like that,” a hand runs down his face quickly as a laugh of disbelief leaves him. “we’ve never—would never go there, you know? no shame to anyone who does we just—it was practice before we started dating and all that. was just helping him out.”

and well, that gave you enough of an incentive.

now you’re all in art’s dorm, a little buzzed from the alcohol and tired from a day at the beach. patrick sits on a small couch with his legs spread. both boys have decided to forgo their shirts, only in their swim trunks—patrick’s much shorter than the blonde’s. you still in your bikini top and tiny jean shorts.

“what about that girl you were seeing, what’s her name again?” patrick interrogates a clearly agitated art who sits on the floor rolling his eyes.

“i told you that’s over, she wasn’t looking for anything serious and i found out the hard way.”

“he means he saw her making out with one of his buddies at a frat party,” you add smirking over your bottle.

“okay, fuck off first of all—“

“hey, man calm down, look—“ patrick interjected, “there’s lots of chicks that would bang you, i’m sure a pretty boy like you has no problem getting laid. go charm up some nice girl that volunteers at the soup kitchen on her free time and—“

“fuck you patrick.” there’s no malice behind his words though—and you can spot the blush that takes over his pale complexion at the previous remark as he shakes his head. “it’s easy for you to say,” he looks up at you as he says it, “you guys fuck like rabbits any chance you get.”

“is that what it is then? you being pent up?” you cut in. “there’s lot of girls here who would love to fuck you, artie. you’re telling me none have caught your eye?”

art is silent, looking to see what patrick was thinking, but the latter simply looks curious—excited almost— and so he just sits picking at the hem of his shorts.

“oh i get it,” you continue, “you’re jealous. you think i’m taking your precious best friend away, don’t you?” you slide down from the chair to take a spot right next to him and whisper the next thing so only he hears, “you are jealous. don’t worry, we can share him.”

you pull back to see his pupils dilated and his mouth slightly parted, in shock and arousal—maybe even in acceptance. you can’t help the small grin as you look from him to the other still sitting on the couch, you can see his chest rising a bit heavier now.

you feel that as an agreement from both as you perch on the bed and call them both to follow at each of your sides. you can feel them eyeing you and for a split second, you see them staring at each other in a way that surpasses anything platonic they insist on having.

when you feel them both lean in to opposite sides of your neck you halt their movements. a look of confusion passes through their faces as they wait for you to explain.

“i think you guys have some making up to do,” the look on their faces creases further, “art, aren’t you curious to feel what his lips are like again? i have a feeling he has improved greatly since you were 13.”

art’s face falls, he looks at patrick in annoyance, “you said you would never tell, dude what the fuck.”

patrick just shrugs, still wanting to proceed. “i told you, that was only for practice. we’re grown now.”

“sure,” you pretend to let it go and you have on a stupid smile that he just wants to kiss off your face. you start leaning towards patrick and grant him that wish, using your hand on his jaw to give you access to his tongue. it quickly becomes heated, you land on his lap and grind yourself on the hard bulge in his trunks. his big hand gropes your ass and he moans greedily in your mouth. you pull away and let him suck and nip on the length of your neck before looking at art, who looks pitiful with his mouth hung open and his eyes lingering on the spot where patrick is occupied. a smirk returns to your swollen lips.

you tug on patricks hair and swivel even harder on his dick, leading to him groaning out a fuck me baby, and you swear you see art’s cock twitch under the layer of thin clothing. you leave patricks lap despite his efforts to keep you there, now sat on the pretty blonde who can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. you stop his stressing when you place both of his palms on your hips, trailing them up to your barely-covered tits where he gives a soft squeeze and lets out a little whine. you finally lean down to kiss him and it’s as you’d expect from him—tentative and soft. a kiss you’d get from a boyfriend after a nice dinner date—not from whatever this was.

he lets out hums and low moans, but you can tell he’s getting desperate. god knows how long it’s been since he’s fucked something other than his hand. you pull away and return to your spot between them. they instantly both try to catch your lips, it’s messy with all three of you licking and sucking and kissing. at this point no one knows whose mouth is whose, and it doesn’t even matter because suddenly you’re pulling off. you lean back to catch your breath and then you see them.

they lick into each other’s mouths, art is mewling and patrick grips his curls to hold him in place. they seem to catch on after a ridiculous amount of time but when they do, they stare at you while they’re heaving breaths.

“are you guys gonna take care of that?” you look down at their laps, both having matching leaks of pre bleeding through their shorts. “come on get them out, you’ve seen each other plenty before right? nothing to be shy of.”

they both listen, each erection slapping up and standing on its own. it’s obscene and you dont think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. art’s cock is so pretty—you think—pink and curved. he is smooth, you always had assumed he would be anyway. you can tell he takes good care of himself, his balls the same flushed pink he gets on his cheeks when you tease him. the tip of him is so red, a dribble of white streaming down when he notices your attention on his cock—you almost coo at it when it twitches.

then you look at patrick. that same cock you love and worship. he’s thicker in girth, your pussy pulsates when your mind trails to the stretch he gives you. his balls are heavy, and he doesn’t ever fully shave them. you like them like that—the musk and how they give friction to your clit when hes fucking you. he’s also drooling from his tip. you decide to start off slow.

you scoot forwards and extend your arms to their laps. each one of your hands holds them and at the contact, they can’t help but buck their hips. you think it’s adorable to see them synchronized like that.

“ah, shit!” patrick throws his head back and looks down at you jerking him off, then looks to his right at the other cock in your hand and shakes his head in disbelief, “i can’t—fuck—i can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“i see the way you look at him, pat,” you quicken the speed of your hands and both of them cry out, “i gave you both what you wanted, handed on a silver fucking platter. i think you should be a little more grateful. in fact, my hands are getting tired,” and with that, you cut all contact with them and you can quite literally see them wilt.

“wha- no, please,” art manages to get through a whine, “my hand doesn’t—it doesn’t feel as good i’m so hard it hurts, please—“

“who said anything about using your own hand?”you cut him off.

patrick hesitantly stretches his arm over his friend’s lap, “we’re just,” his fingers make contact with art’s dick and he almost drools, “helping each other out.” an experimental tug has his back arching and makes him shut his eyes tight.

“pat-patrick—oh fuck.”

one would think art already came by how much he’s wetting his friend’s hand, and patrick seems to be mesmerized by the sight. “holy fuck art, look at how much you’re spilling,” as if on cue, that makes him squirt out more. art is gripping his sheets and his eyes dart from the hand stroking him fast and the boy in front of him.

“i’m—don’t go so fucking fast,” art tries to get out, “it’s been a while if—nghh—if you don’t slow down i’m gonna—fuck!” patrick clearly enjoys this as he can’t help laughing at his state.

“don’t tell me you’re a virgin, artie,” he slows down but continues teasing, “thought i taught you how to hold off better than that.”

and while you’d love to keep watching art squirm under his torture, you stop him, “i got an idea.”

patrick reluctantly pulls away and they both now stare expectantly, “push both of your cocks together, here like this—“ you direct them to sit with their legs spread in front of each other, overlapping and then you position them how you want them.

they can’t even speak, they’re just panting and looking down at the contact until you continue, “come on pat, hold both of them together,” you watch as he does so and grimaces trying to hold off, “look at that, your tips are kissing—how cute.”

they both whine and patrick mutters a shut up under his breath.

after a minute of heavy breathing, patricks large hand slowly strokes down on both of their cocks. it’s so wet, the sound of the slicking lewdly filling up the room but the sound of their cries is almost enough to drown it out. art is almost sobbing at this point, you’ve never heard someone sound so desperate. they almost can’t bare the friction of each other, their tangled legs twitching and shaking.

you almost start to get annoyed at how slow patrick is going for the sake of making the feeling last, but in a way you think it’s sweet. the years they’ve held off on each other finally leading to this—they deserved it. you’re still annoyed tho.

“go faster,” as the words leave your mouth they both mewl and shake their heads, “you look so hot like this, i’m so wet. i’m thinking of letting you both fuck me—at the same time. just like this, both in my cunt,” patrick’s hand loosens his grip he is almost shivering now, he has to hold off, “why’d you let go, hm?” you pull his hand back on, “i want you both to imagine it, it’s gonna be a tighter fit than this,” you pull your hand over patrick’s and tighten the grip hard, “there you go.”

art can’t even make out words anymore, the second he heard you say you wanted them both at once, his ears started ringing. as if that wasn’t enough, the tightened grip made him moan out pleas over and over. when he looks down, he knows he can’t hold longer and he lets you both know, “i’m gonna, i can’t it’s too much, too much, too tight i—“

you take this as your chance to do what you wanted since you saw the tent in his shorts, you lean down to where they are connected and suckle on his tip and that does it. he sobs out a curse and starts twitching, he cums all over your lips and patrick, you can’t believe how much is coming out of him.

patrick just about loses his mind when he sees it all happen. it’s a miracle he lasted over two minutes like this and he’s about to pass out, “oh fuck me, yeah fucking soak that dick—oh god— you’re so wet—how do you get this fucking—“ he suddenly yanks art by his neck and fucks his tongue into his mouth again, and even tho he is still dizzy from his orgasm, he kisses back just as messily. that’s the final straw for patrick to cum all over them and squeeze their tips together for the last time that night.

you watch it all happen with a lazy smile. they both lay down, still out of it while you scratch their heads gently and murmur sweet affirmations to them. you’re between them and it feels just right. you don’t need to talk about what happened just yet. just sleepily kiss each other until you knock out.

they’ll make up not making you cum tomorrow, you can picture them both licking between your legs and when they take turns suckling your clit, you’ll pretend not to notice how they’re jerking each other off out of your sight <3

[stepbrorafe]

Devil May Care - RC

summary : after getting a small taste of your stepbrother, you crave more. desperate times call for desperate measures.

warnings : stepcest, swearing, jealous!Rafe, rough sex, choking, slapping, spit kink, breeding kink, that’s all i can think of

a/n : Movie Night continuation, sorry 4 the wait 😔💪🏼

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

A very long and excruciating week of teasing has passed; subtle touches, suggestive comments, sexy smirks. You were slowly losing it. Rafe knew exactly what to do to leave you desperate for more. And boy were you desperate.

The way he made you feel last week has been on your mind nonstop. You’ve never been touched the way he touched you, no man ever comparing to him. He made your body burn with an overwhelming pleasure, one that you’ve been craving ever since.

No matter how bad you want it, you can’t bring yourself to act on it. The thought of taking initiative the way he did struck you with vicious anxiety. You know he wants it, and that he’s just getting off on teasing you, but the fear of being rejected is far too strong to make you step out of your comfort zone. Especially with your stepbrother.

To say you’re frustrated would be an understatement. You’ve been craving his hands on you, inside you. You know it’s wrong, but fuck, it feels so right.

You can’t help but be snappy with the people surrounding you, you’re just yearning for something you can’t have and it’s exasperating. Rafe can see the effect he’s had on you and it strokes his ego entirely too much for your liking.

You rack your brain, trying to come up with something that will make him cave and give you what you want. You’ve never been so needy for a man before, and it makes you internally scream at yourself. Rafe’s awoken something in you that won’t seem to go to rest.

After a while of thinking, you find yourself in front of your mirror, admiring the sight. Your body sports a thin white dress that hugs your chest perfectly, showcasing your taut nipples. The bottom flows just under the curve of your ass, in which one wrong move will flash your pretty pink thong.

Your devious and impulsive mind decides to do what you think will work best—make Rafe jealous. As he’s the very jealous type for whatever the case is, you think it’ll work in your favor. So, that’s why you rub your plump lips together, rubbing your shiny lip gloss in. Flashing a satisfied smirk at your reflection, you make your way downstairs where you can hear Rafe and Topper chatting.

It takes you all of thirty seconds to make your way into the living room where the two reside. They’re both sat on different sofas, and you choose to sit right beside Topper, eager to get on with your little plan.

The second Rafe’s eyes take you in, his face hardens. He’s instantly tightening his jaw, already suspicious of you.

“Hey Top, Rafe.” You greet them with an innocent smile.

“Y/N! You look—wow.” Topper marvels, his eyes raking over your entire body.

You grin, leaning even closer to him. “Thank you. You look pretty delicious yourself.”

“What are you doing?” Rafe cuts in, his eyes shooting daggers into you.

You turn your head in his direction, a fake frown pulling to your lips. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head, slightly squinting his eyes as he reiterates, “What are you doing?”

You bite back the smirk that threatens to plaster itself on your face, innocently shrugging, “Just figured I’d come hangout with my brother and his friend.”

“Stepbrother.” He grits, correcting you with a sharp gaze.

Topper tosses an arm around your shoulders, leaning back into the couch. “You’re welcome to chill any time.”

“Don’t touch her.” Rafe bites, unable to help himself.

You and Topper share a look of confusion before landing on Rafe, staring incredulously. Though, you have more of a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What?” Topper chuckles.

“Get your hand off of her.” Rafe snarls, acknowledging the look of suspicion from his friend and continuing, “You already went through one sister, you don’t get another.”

Topper slowly retracts his arm from you, taking in how serious Rafe suddenly became, and not wanting to endure any of his wrath. He crosses his arms, avoiding eye contact with Rafe.

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes, placing your small hands around his bicep. “We’re just having fun, right Top?”

If possible, Rafe’s glare hardens as he watches you. He knows you’re up to something, and though he doesn’t know exactly what, he’s becoming more and more agitated with your antics.

“You boys want anything to drink?” You question, quickly standing, not bothering to readjust your risen dress.

“Ye-“

Rafe cuts Topper off, “We’re fine. Quit being sick and leave us alone.”

You pout, turning on your heel to face him, swiveling back and forth, “What am I doing?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, “Shut up, you know what you’re doing. Go on now.” His eyes dart to Topper, “Keep your eyes off her ass, dude.”

You smirk to yourself, knowing your devious little plan is working, and saunter off to the kitchen to grab a water that you don’t even really want. You’re quick with grabbing the bottle from the fridge, eager to head back into the living room.

Rafe’s eyes are instantly on you when you return, almost as if he’s anticipating your next move. You shoot him a little smirk, causing him to narrow his eyes. You ‘accidentally’ drop your water in front of Topper, and slowly bend over to pick it up, showcasing your plump ass.

Rafe’s breathing grows ragged, his body tensing up with lust and anger. He sees right through you now, knowing exactly what you’re doing. Unfortunately for him, it’s working.

Topper has to tear his eyes away from you as you return to your seat next to him. He’s completely oblivious to what’s going on, he’s just painfully aware of how good you look, and it’s almost impossible to avert his eyes.

The two continue their conversation, you paying no mind as you twiddle your fingers. You pull your hair tie off of your wrist and pull it back and forth, occupying yourself as you think of what to do next.

You can see that Rafe is tense and riled up. He’s mad at you. You grin to yourself at knowing it’s working. You want nothing more than for him to fuck your brains out. He gave you a little taste the other night, and now you’re starving for more.

You sit and wonder what all he’s going to do to you, and the endless thoughts get you hot and bothered. You catch yourself clenching your thighs, attempting to soothe the building ache between your legs with even the slightest friction.

Your actions don’t go unnoticed by Rafe. His hands rest on his groin, tugging at his pants and shifting slightly in his seat in an effort to hide his growing bulge. You can do the bare minimum and it still gets him going. He just wants to bend you over the couch and fuck you silly, punish you for acting like a brat.

Biting your inner cheek to keep yourself from smiling, you flick your hair tie at Topper’s knee and it falls between his legs.

“Oops, sorry.” You pout, sliding down to grab it.

You position yourself in front of him, kneeling between his legs as you lean forward to retrieve it. You notice his breath hitch as you’re so close to him and it makes you smile to yourself.

Rafe is furious. He doesn’t want you on your knees for anyone other than him. He’s grown sick of your little act.

Just as you place your hand on Topper’s knee to lift yourself back up, Rafe’s hand is in your hair as he pulls you up himself. His eyes never leave you as he grits his teeth, “Go home, Top.”

His eyes widen as he looks up at you two, confusion washing over his face. “What?”

“Go. Home.” Rafe repeats, finally breaking his stare from you and glaring at his friend.

With a few small swears of bewilderment, Topper’s standing up and heading out the door. Once it’s closed, Rafe’s hold on your hair tightens, straightening you up.

“You think it’s cute? Hm? Touching all up on Top?” He sneers, his opposite hand gripping your jaw as he lifts your face up to look at him. “Make you feel good?”

“I don’t want him.” Is all you can get out before he’s pulling you towards the stairs.

“I’ll give you something to touch.”

You both get to his room within seconds, and he’s eagerly locking the door and turning towards you with dark eyes and a clenched jaw.

“You just can’t keep that pretty little mouth shut, can you?” He tsks, pushing you onto your knees as he undoes his belt. “Open it up then.”

Your insides are burning with desire and excitement, beyond pleased with the outcome of your plan. You can’t stop clenching around nothing, longing to be filled by him. Just the simple thought has your entrance seeping with arousal.

He slowly removes his belt from the loops of his pants and steps closer to you, “Hands.”

Your eyes widen as you slowly give him what he wants, your heart racing as he wraps the belt around your hands, tightly securing them. You let them fall in your lap as he undoes his pants, pulling them and his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection.

Your mouth waters at the sight. His dick is long and thick, such a pretty pink tip, veins running along the shaft. He looks painfully hard, and knowing it’s because of you makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.

He brings his hand to your jaw, softly running his fingertips over your skin. The pad of his thumb rubs your bottom lip before roughly poking into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. The way your plump lips wrap around his thumb makes his cock throb.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” He rasps, “I’m going to ruin you.”

He removes his thumb, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. His hand wraps around his thick member, sighing from the pleasure. The thought of what he’s going to do to you fills him with an excitement he’s never felt before.

Tapping the head on your lips, he smirks, “Open.”

You do as he says, your tongue slightly protruding. He slowly shifts forward, his cock entering your salivating mouth. The second your lips close around him, his breath hitches and he’s fighting the urge to toss his head back. It feels so good, but he can’t take his eyes off of you.

He places his hands on the sides of your face, holding you steady as he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth. His groans fill the air, encouraging you to take him. Wet gargles and gags emit from you as he fucks your mouth deeper and deeper.

Tears brim in your eyes as he glides down your throat, dribbles of drool falling from the sides of your mouth.

“Look at you.” Rafe grunts, removing his hands from your face to pull his shirt off, before grabbing you again. “So desperate for my cock.”

His thrusts grow faster, the wet sounds from your mouth become louder. He’s full on using your throat as a toy to get him off. And you love every bit of it.

He takes his bottom lip into his mouth, his teeth gnawing down on it to prevent his moans from slipping. You look so pretty on your knees, cheeks coated in mascara stained tears, slobber running from your mouth, luscious lips wrapped around his dick. He could cum from the sight of you like this.

His grip on your face tightens as his cock abuses your throat. He shoves himself all the way in and holds it there, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone. He can feel your throat repeatedly opening and closing around him, instantly sending him into a euphoric state.

His abdomen flexes as waves of pleasure flood his body. His thighs twitch and his cock throbs, finally emptying his hot load down your throat with a loud moan. He gives a few more pumps before he removes himself from you, leaving you to swallow his cum.

After doing so, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him that you took it all. He grins, his hand encasing your face as he squeezes your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker in a slight pout.

“Such a good little slut for me.” He huskily breathes.

You nod as best you can with his grip on your face. He licks his lips and pulls you up to your feet, staring down at you with a look of utter desire.

“Hm.” He hums, brushing a hand through your hair. “Bet you want more, don’t you, Sis?”

You frantically nod as your heart pounds in your chest, your pussy throbbing with a carnal craving for him. “Yes. Please.”

He gives you that infamous smirk, one that should scare you away because you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, but it only drawls you in more.

“As much as I love it.. Take it off.” He declares, nodding towards your little dress.

Your hands instantly grab the hem of the dress, swiftly pulling it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your pink panties. Your nipples harden from the cool air, and you bring your arms to your sides to provide warmth.

His eyes trail over your entire body, his semi hard cock already growing once again. His hands reach the sides of your thighs, warm fingertips trailing over your skin. They glide upwards, tracing over the strap of your thong. Dipping his fingers into the waistband, he pulls it out and lets it snap back against you.

Your breath hitches in anticipation, your core saturating the small fabric between your legs. His hands make their way up your body, touching every bit of skin. He firmly fondles and caresses every curve, memorizing every dip. Prominent goosebumps arise on your skin as his hands roam over it.

Your big doe eyes haven’t left his once, taking in the way he seems to be soaking you in. His palms softly engulf your tits, squeezing them tightly and massaging them in circles. His actions pull a soft moan from you as your head tilts a bit to the right.

“Fuck.” He whispers, stepping closer to you so that your bodies are flushed together. “You’re so perfect.”

Your face heats up at his compliment, burning beneath his touch as he places a hand on your cheek. His lifts your face up, his thumb delicately brushing over your cheek. His touches are so soft as if he’s not about to destroy you.

Leaning down, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, almost as if testing the waters. He places a few more. Then, like he can’t get enough, his mouth is on yours in a feverish kiss. He kisses you so deeply as one hand holds your face, and his opposite trails around to your ass.

He squeezes it harshly, pulling a moan from your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in between your parted lips, exploring the wet softness of your mouth. Your tongues dance together, moving perfectly in sync.

Rafe can’t believe it’s taken this long for you guys to kiss. He’s tasted you, buried his fingers in you, and his cock in your mouth, yet you’re only now kissing.

He’s never felt this way before. Kissing is usually just something he does to keep his mouth busy when fucking someone. But right now, with you, he doesn’t want to pull away. So, he doesn’t.

His hand moves from your cheek down to your neck, squeezing tightly as the kiss grows sloppier. He walks you backwards to the bed, falling on top of you when the back of your knees hit it.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and leaves wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and bites your sensitive skin, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

He continues lowering himself on you, his lips leaving trails of saliva along your collarbones. His teeth nip your skin, tongue flickering just to taste you. His mouth meets every sliver of skin shown, none of you going untouched.

Your body is hot beneath him, and your insides feel even hotter. Your chest heaves with every deep breath you take, small pants and moans emitting from your mouth as he works on you. Your forehead begins to glisten with sweat, the air now hot around the two of you.

Rafe’s hands grasp your tits, thumbs instantly flicking over your hard nipples. He groans against your chest, inhaling the way you smell. His tongue pokes out, traveling to your boobs, his mouth marking the plump skin. He takes your right nipple in his mouth, sucking it and the skin around it as his hand words your opposite one.

You can’t help but arch into him, loving the feeling he’s giving you. You’ve been wanting this so bad, and now that you’re finally getting it, you’re on cloud nine.

“Rafe.” You whimper as he moves to your left tit.

“Mhm. I know, baby.” He moans into you.

Leaving your boobs wet with his saliva, he keeps going lower and lower, peppering wet open mouthed kisses along your stomach. He reaches the waistband of your panties and places a soft kiss.

You’re practically shuddering beneath him. The fabric between your legs is absolutely drenched with your arousal.

Rafe’s lips trail over the wet cotton, humming in satisfaction, “So fucking wet for me.”

His nose brushes against your clothed clit, causing your body to jerk from the feeling. He smirks against you, and deeply inhales, taking in the scent of you with a hungry moan. His tongue pokes at your covered entrance and trails up your core, flicking over your bundle of nerves.

“So wet I can taste you through your panties.” He smirks, his finger grabbing at the side of the fabric.

He looks up at you, licking his lips at the way your mouth is slightly parted, heavy breaths emitting from it. He pulls the side of your panties over, revealing your glistening folds. With a watering mouth, he dips his tongue into your entrance and drags it up through your lips, right over your clit. You can’t help the lewd moan that’s pulled from your throat.

Not stopping there, Rafe drags his tongue up your stomach and through the valley of your breasts. He breathes you in deeply as his tongue glides up your neck, making his way towards your lips. He smashes his mouth onto yours, moaning into you, knowing he’s about to have so much fun and make you feel so good.

Your lips dance together in a sloppy kiss, tongues fighting, teeth clashing. Your hands meet his broad shoulders, running down his muscular biceps. His hands run from your rib cage down to your waist, grinding his groin on yours. You pull away with a gasp, moaning at the sensation.

He leans back up on his knees between your legs. You watch as he wraps his hand around his shaft, slowly pumping it up and down. You roll your hips, needing some sort of friction as you’re desperate to be filled by him.

He puckers his lips and blows a kiss at you as he places the tip of his cock on your covered pussy. He begins rubbing it over the wet fabric, gliding up and down your slit, pulling soft moans from both of you.

“Feel good, baby?” He coos as you lean your head back.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, unable to form words with the trance he’s put you in.

He pulls your panties to the side once more, sliding his dick through your folds. The second he runs over your clit, your legs quiver. He lets go of your panties, holding them down over his member as he thrusts back and forth.

His head lolls to the side, taking a deep breath through his nose. The feeling of your soaking core and the wet fabric surrounding him is pleasurable enough to bring him close to the edge. Except, he’s not ready to cum again.

He pulls away, leaving you whining at the loss of contact. He grins and lets out a breathy chuckle, before his hands are gripping your hips and flipping you over with ease. You squeal at the sudden rough movement, but quickly get on your knees, arching your back as you lay your cheek on the pillow.

“Fuck.” Rafe groans, gripping your plump ass. “You’ve no idea what you do to me. So close to bending you over the couch and fucking you right in front of Top.”

A moan slips from your mouth as he kneads the fat, spreading your cheeks as he massages you.

“Yeah.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He snickers, “Love to act all innocent, but you’re really just a desperate little whore, begging to be filled by her stepbrother. Hm?”

You can only whimper at his words.

“You wouldn’t even care if everyone knew, would you? No… You wouldn’t.. You’d walk around a party with my kids dripping down your legs if I told you to.”

“P-please.” You beg, pushing your ass further into him.

“So needy.” He teases, finally pulling your thong down.

He stops at your knees, deciding to rip the thin fabric off, so he can keep you in this delicious position. A pout forms on your lips at the sound of him tearing your panties, but you don’t say anything because you know it’s going to be worth everything he’s about to give you.

He places his member at your slit, rubbing it through your folds to coat it in your fluids. Your breathing is erratic, and your stomach is flooding with excitement. You can’t help but push back into him again. His hand falls down on your ass with a loud smack, leaving a stinging sensation as you yelp.

“Be patient.” He orders.

His hand is instantly rubbing the red handprint, soothing the pain he left behind. Leaning over your ass, he puckers his lips and spits, watching the jewel of saliva trickle down your core. Just as it meets the tip of his cock that’s placed as your entrance, he’s slowly pushing into you until he bottoms out.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, your breath suddenly ripped from your lungs.

You feel so full. Fuller than you’ve ever been in your entire life. There’s a burning sensation, but it doesn’t compare to the pleasure you get just from him being buried inside you. You can’t help but clench around him.

“So fucking tight.” He groans, “Squeezing the hell out of me, sis.”

He slowly pulls back until just his tip is in you, and roughly rams back in, pulling a scream from you. He groans in pleasure as he begins pumping in and out of you with slow, deep thrusts.

“R-Rafe.” You whine out, repeatedly clenching around him.

His cock slides in and out of you with ease, the sound of your arousal squelching around you. His hands grip your ass, pulling you hard against him to meet every thrust.

“God, you feel so good.” He moans, picking up the force in his strokes.

Your ass jiggles in waves with every time he buries himself in you. The sound of your skin slapping is loud. His thrusts become fast and hard, digging into you so deep. Your hands clench the sheets beneath you, and you bite your arm to prevent yourself from screaming. It hurts so good.

The sound of your muffled noises bring Rafe’s attention from where you’re both connected to the back of your head. His hand instantly wraps around your hair and roughly tugs your head back.

“Nuh uh. Wanna hear your pretty little moans.”

As if it’s possible, his cock digs deeper into your spongy walls, pulling a loud pornographic moan from your mouth. Your whole body shakes with every movement of his.

“Yeah.. That’s more like it. Sound so fucking sexy.” He groans, smacking your ass as he pounds you.

At this point, you can’t help the continuous cries and moans that fall from your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, and your mouth is stuck slack. Drool falls from your lips, creating a small wet spot on the pillow below you.

Rafe pushes on your back, arching you even more as he leans over you. He’s so deep, it feels like he’s fucking your throat. He kisses your back, licking up your spine until he gets to your neck. His heavy pants and moans fill your ear, his hot breath leaving your hair standing up.

“What if mom and dad saw you like this?” He taunts in your ear. “What do you think they’d say? Hm?”

With every word he says, he digs deeper into your cunt. So deep that you’re almost crawling away. His grip on your hair tightens and he’s yanking your head back, keeping you still so he can fuck you as deep as he wants.

“Don’t run. This is what you wanted, right?”

Incoherent words fall from your lips, being overtaken by your loud moans. Rafe’s reveling in the fact that he’s damn near fucked you stupid already.

“S’too much!” You cry out, finally able to string words together.

He instantly pulls out and flips you over onto your back, before burying himself in you within seconds. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as he fills you back up.

“This better for you? Hm?” Rafe grunts as he thrusts into you, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. “Yeah. Missed your pretty face anyways.”

He watches as your face scrunches up in pleasure. Your brows knit together, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth stuck open as continuous lewd noises emit from it. You look so fucking perfect. He wants to have you like this forever.

“Your pussy feels so nice around me.” Rafe moans into your neck. “So good. Whose is it?”

You don’t respond with words, causing him to pull away and roughly grip your jaw. He stares down at you, his hand coming down on your face with a rough smack as he reiterates between hard strokes, “Whose pussy is this?”

“Mm. Y-yours. Rafe’s. F-fuck, it’s yours.” You cry out as the knot in your stomach becomes increasingly tighter.

His lips slam onto yours as his hips rut into you, the two of you molding together so perfectly. He kisses you like you’re the oxygen he needs to survive. It takes your breath away and you love every second of it.

Pulling away from your lips, his fingers replace his tongue and are shoving into your mouth. He pulls a gag from you as his nose brushes against yours. Using his fingers to pull your mouth open, he spits in it, then fiercely kisses you as his hand travels down your body.

Just as he brings his hand down to rub your clit, you hear a door slam downstairs. You immediately tense up, but Rafe doesn’t falter. He continues to relentlessly pound into you, making it so fucking hard to be quiet.

“Uh-oh.” He feigns fear, “Someone’s coming.”

Despite his words, he doesn’t let up on his thrusts or his circles on your clit. His taunting eyes bore into you as he watches your entire body quake.

“Do you want me to stop?” He teases, instantly slowing his strokes.

“No!” You cry out, “No, no! Fuck. Please-please don’t stop.”

He picks the pace back up, causing your insides to twist. “You sure? We might get caught.”

His tantalizing words push you over the edge. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back, your pussy clenching around him so tightly. Euphoria floods your veins, and white stars dance in your eyes. Your juices pour out of you faster and harder than they ever have before.

He loudly groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, “Fuck, I knew you were a slut. Getting off at the thought of being caught with your stepbrother. Such a naughty girl.”

You can’t help the moans that leave your mouth as he pumps in and out of you. His strokes grow sloppy, indicating he’s close. His hands meet your tits, gripping them and using them as leverage to keep you still while he fucks you.

You clench around him once more, coming down from your high, and it makes his hips stutter as he fills you up with a loud moan. He keeps fucking into you deep, emptying his load so far into you. You moan from the warm gushy feeling of him painting your walls.

Very slowly, he comes to a halt, but before he can pull out, loud knocks ring through the door and Sarah’s voice is heard from the other side. “Rafe! Who the fuck do you have in there?! You guys are loud as fuck, it’s gross.”

Your eyes widen in fear and Rafe just smirks down at you, calling out to her, “Oh, just my favorite slut.”

Her words of disgust fall on deaf ears as she walks away, leaving the two of you to bask in the pleasure you both received. Your doe eyes staring up at him, his warm eyes gazing down at you, filled with adoration.

“I mean it by the way.” He whispers against your lips. “You are my favorite.”

You roll your eyes as a blush paints your cheeks, “I better be your only.”

He chuckles and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, “Of course you are. That’s why you’re my favorite. Now let’s go shower, I’m not done with you yet.”

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

taglist : @sunkissedrafe @wickedtactics @bunnycvnts @butterflyoceandreams @rafesgiirl @yourenogoodforme @marvelfanfics1recs @cini-mini27 @pinkribboncoco @drewsphswife @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | two.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—WORD COUNT: 8.8k

—CHAPTER WARNINGS: cussing/mature language, ponytail wooyoung !!!, alcohol consumption / intoxication, party at the winery!, dancing, sweet affectionate moments, songs mentioned are in the playlist, wooyoung is very sweet and will take care of his date 10/10 recommend 🥰

"Wait, wait, wait." San shakes his head in disbelief. "You're going to your sister's company summer party? With Y/N?"

"Mhm." Wooyoung responds nonchalantly.

"I thought her car was already getting fixed at the shop though, what does that have to do with you?"

"You think my sister is gonna leave it at that?" Wooyoung cocks a brow before putting down the navy button-up shirt back on the rack. "I'm just doing her the favor so she can let me be. I know she'll continue to hang it over my head if I don't."

"Wow, you're strong."

"I only agreed cause it's one night. And cause of the whole thing with my sis. Believe it or not, I don't always want her finding reasons to nag at me."

"Wouldn't that be weird, though?"

"What?"

"Being Y/N's date."

"Sure, but it's whatever."

"What're you even gonna talk about all night?"

"I don't know? Am I supposed to have a list ready and check it off as I go?" He gives San a weird look. "I'll figure it out. Who knows, it might not even be that bad."

"I'm not gonna lie, she did look pretty cute at your parents' bbq."

"She's always been cute. She's just shy as hell."

"Mm, yeah." San starts to eye the sweaters on the rack, pulling out a few and hanging it against his chest to see how they'd look on him. "So, what are you guys wearing?"

"I'm not sure." San's forehead crinkles when he turns to look at Wooyoung.

"Aren't you supposed to be sure? You're going together. You have to match."

"Well, we don't really have to. We're not dating, we're just going to a party together as friends."

"Acquaintances."

"Yeah, okay Merriam-Webster." Wooyoung scoffs and pulls out a black button-up shirt that he probably already has in his closet— but it wouldn't hit the same as buying a new one for a summer party. "Stop trying to make it seem like it's super complicated when it's not."

"I'm not. I'm just having a hard time imagining it."

"Then, don't. She's really not that bad."

"Wish she wasn't so shy." Wooyoung turns to San.

"Or.. what?"

"Maybe I would've tried getting to know her more."

"Fuck outta here, Choi San. You're only saying that shit because I'm taking her out to a party." Wooyoung points towards the front of the shop. "Wait. You see that right there?"

"What?" San leans over to try and get a good look at what Wooyoung is pointing at.

"Look closely." He ushers him to get closer. "If you look straight ahead, you'll see the front door. You can take your exit there."

"Fuck you."

"Shut up then. Don't start saying that stuff about Y/N." Wooyoung rolls his eyes as he continues to flip through the racks, trying to spot more clothes to buy and fill his closet with. He's not really sure why he feels the sudden need to be protective of you, especially with San. Hearing him say things like that rubs Wooyoung the wrong way and he's not sure if it's because he's known you for years, or because of something else that he doesn't really wanna think about right now. In the end, Wooyoung doesn't deal with feelings. They're too complicated, and they tie him down. 

"Oh my god! Those dresses are so cute, you'll definitely find one here!" Wooyoung overhears from nearby.

"Whoever that is, sounds exactly like my sister." Woo does a slight head tilt and pretends to shiver. "Can't escape—"

"Because it is your little sister, dummy." San nods his head towards your direction, the both of them watching as you, Jiwoo and Hongjoong walk into the same store. It's almost like the sibling radar goes off for Jiwoo because it doesn't take long before her eyes meet his.

"Why are you here?" She asks, slowly approaching them.

"Waiting for security to take your ass out." Wooyoung looks at the security guard and pretends to call him over. "Excuse me. The nuisance is right here, sir. Please escort her out." Jiwoo rolls her eyes and walks closer to him, giving Hongjoong the opportunity to greet him and San. "Whattup!"

"Taking these girls shopping for the party." Hongjoong responds.

"Me too!" Wooyoung points at San, causing him to click his teeth in response. "Hey Y/N." He smiles down at you and pulls you into a hug before San does the same. 

"Are you wearing black to the party?" Jiwoo holds out the shirt Wooyoung has in his hand.

"And if I am?"

"It's a summer party."

"Black goes with everything?" Jiwoo gives him a look that he reciprocates. "You know, now that you're here Y/N, maybe we can shop for our outfits together."

"Sure, okay—" You respond softly, about to step closer to him when Jiwoo holds your hand and tugs you back.

"I'm shopping with her."

"I have better taste than you."

"I think not." She looks down at the shirt again before looking back up at her brother. "Anyway, we'll be off to find our dresses." She links her arm with yours as you quietly continue to shift your attention between Jiwoo and her brother. "Byeeeee!" She swings you around and drags you towards the dresses in the back corner of the store. Hongjoong lingers around the boys for a little longer, shopping for new shirts himself. The boys talk about their upcoming plans before the summer party, also throwing in some guesses about how the summer party is going to turn out.

Meanwhile, when you and Jiwoo head to the dresses, your eyes automatically land on a strapless corset midi dress— it has a simple black and gold abstract print on it, the fabric mainly mesh. It'll be a little tighter than you'd like, the side slit a little higher than you'd like, but you thought it'd go with the vibe best. There are a few other dresses that caught your eye, and Jiwoo encouraged you to try them on in order to decide which one worked best. 

You could like the way one looks, but it could be completely different when you put it on.

But, your decision remains the same; the abstract dress fits you well, and you can't lie, you feel the sexiest in it. The corset bodice, along with the bodycon fit, provides enough support and shape to hug you in all the right places. Jiwoo squeals when she sees you in the dress, completely agreeing with your decision [she would've any other way]. She jokes that her brother better keep his hands to himself with how good you look and all you can do is shyly shake your head with a tiny giggle before heading back into the room to slip it off.

"Did you find your dresses?" Hongjoong comes, eyeing the dress Jiwoo has in her hands.

"Mhm! Is my pain in the ass brother still here?" Hongjoong shakes his head.

"Him and San just left."

"Good. The dress Y/N has is to be kept a secret until the party. She's gonna look so good, I might have to tell Wooyoung to keep his hands to himself." You come out of the dressing room with the dress tucked closely to your chest, hanging the rest on the go-back rack.

"Hongjoong, please tell her she doesn't have to do all of that." You look at him and he chuckles. "Remember? You're the one who put your brother up to all of this just so I could go to the party. I'm quite positive it's just a favor and nothing else." You all walk towards the register to pay for your items. 

"Still, okay? You're gonna look amazing. I gotta give him a little warning and make sure he doesn't get super handsy with you." She shivers, making you playfully roll your eyes in response.

"Jiwoo, are you gonna help me with hair and makeup? Cause I literally won't know what to do that'll go well with this dress."

"Of course, bae! We'll make it pop, but keep it simple. Trust me on this." She squeezes your wrist just before handing her card over to the cashier. Once her and Hongjoong finish paying, you follow them down to the food court, ordering some friend chicken to munch on before sharing a huge bowl of bingsu with the two. You catch San and Wooyoung passing through the food court, now accompanied by two other girls. They don't look familiar, at least you don't think. In any case, it doesn't make you feel any better knowing Wooyoung simply agreed to go to the party with you as a favor to his sister.

The harsh reality settles that this meant nothing more, nothing less.

You were just a favor.

The day of the party comes quicker than expected. Work had been so busy that the days had flown by, bringing you to your present:

Which is, Jiwoo helping you pop in some hazel colored contacts before doing your makeup and hair.

"Keep your eye open!"

"Ugh, I hate contacts. Jiwoo, you know I hate the feeling!" 

"I know, but I promise it'll be over quick! Just keep it open and don't blink. The more you resist, the longer it'll bother you!" You groan again, gaining the last bit of courage to keep your eye open for Jiwoo as she aligns the contact and gently places it in. "Close and blink for me?" She watches and claps. "Perfect, now do the same for the other eye."

"Jiwoo." You whine.

"I know you can't do it yourself!"

"I can go without them!"

"But, the colored contacts give you a pop and it's cute!"

"I'm literally crying." You point at the tear strolling down your cheek.

"Beauty is pain, my dear! Just for one night! Now, keep still—" She pauses, the both of you holding your breaths while she pops in the last contact into your left eye. You flinch the moment it settles, dabbing at the tears that stream down your cheeks.

"Never again. Wooyoung is literally not gonna care."

"Who said this is about Wooyoung? It's your first summer party, forget my brother. You're gonna be the hottest thing to walk that winery." You shake your head, letting Jiwoo dab some powder onto your cheeks. "You look good, girly! Look at you!" She shoves the mirror in your face. Jiwoo did some loose curls on your hair, and a very natural look for your makeup. Fake lashes, a shade of blush that pops on your cheeks, clear gloss, natural eyeshadow— just enough razzle dazzle, but nothing too extra, as Jiwoo says.

You don't really recognize yourself, though. But, in a good way. You like the change. You normally don't wear makeup, you don't do your hair. You like to think you're simple, maybe too simple, but you don't mind it one bit. That was you, and you've come to embrace it. The change, though? It was nice to see on you once in awhile.

"Thank you." You smile at her and she squeals before checking her phone.

"Okay, my brother should be here in a bit. We're gonna take off and meet you there?"

"Why are you going so early?! You're not gonna leave at the same time as me and Wooyoung?!"

"Nope. We gotta get parking and get first dibs on the wine." She snorts before flashing her phone, screen signaling a call from Hongjoong. "You'll be fine, okay? Granted, as long as Wooyoung doesn't fucking text and drive again but I'm sure he won't with you in the car." 

"Jiwoo!"

"I'll see you in a bit! I love you, mwah!" She says, grabbing her things and rushing out of your studio; heels click-clacking away on the pavement before she squeals even louder seeing her boyfriend. You shake your head, dabbing a bit more highlighter across your collarbone just like Jiwoo taught you.

Within the next 25 minutes or so, you munch on some apple slices you already had in the fridge, somewhat satisfying both your hunger and sweet tooth. Just as you're re-applying lip gloss, Wooyoung's call comes through on your phone, startling you and causing you to drop the wand onto the floor.

"Oh shoot." You grab the wand and blow it off, submerging it back into the tube. "Hello?"

"Yo— everything okay?" He laughs a bit hearing the rustling in the back. "I'm downstairs."

"Sorry, just dropped my lip gloss." You whine a bit away from the phone. "I'll be down in a second."

"Ah, hate when that happens. See you in a bit!" You hang up the call and spray on another spritz of perfume before grabbing your purse, shutting off your lights and closing up your studio. You slowly climb down the steps, Wooyoung probably questioning why you're taking each step 2 miles per hour and sideways. 

You make it down in one piece. Slowly, carefully.

You shyly slip into the passenger's seat, and you almost pause mid-way when you glance at Wooyoung in the driver's seat. As promised, he's in a simple black-on-black fit— a crisp black button up with the sleeves rolled up ever so slightly, black dress pants and black boots. His hair is tucked back in a ponytail with a few strands framing his face. The car smells like his cologne, and he's chewing away at some gum while waiting. You've seen Wooyoung formally dressed before for special occasions, but there hasn't been one time you found yourself ogling at him the way you are right now.

You've never seen him like this, or maybe you just never paid attention? You didn't really have a reason to until tonight. Well, you didn't really have a reason because he was your bestfriend's brother.

"Hi." He says, setting his phone down in the middle console. Thank god he didn't catch you staring at him the way you were. But now, he's doing the same and you're not sure why he's staring. Do you look weird? Is something on your face?

"Hi." He softly smiles, eyes still exploring your body from head to toe and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.  "What? Is it cause my eyes are kinda red?" You pout, immediately looking through the passenger mirror. "I swear I'm not like, high or anything. Jiwoo helped me put the contacts in earlier—"

"She, what?" He chuckles before shaking his head. "No, nothing. I just— you look beautiful, Y/N. Was taking it in, that's all." 

"O-oh." You tuck a strand behind your ear before settling back into your seat. "Thank you, Wooyoung."

"Of course. You ready?" He glances at your seatbelt and you give him a nod to drive off. "Alright, lehgo." He says, shifting the gear and turning up his music a bit. The familiar voices of Blaque comes through on the speakers, Wooyoung softly singing along to JC Chasez's part in Bring It All To Me. You knew Wooyoung could sing, but it still blows your mind every time you hear his voice. He has one hand gripping tightly onto the wheel, the other resting on the gear. "Do you know if my sister and Hongjoong left already?"

"Yeah, they did about 30 minutes ago."

"She's deadass gonna be the first person there." 

"She said she wanted dibs on parking and the wine."

"Gonna be the first person there and drunk. Free entertainment." You chuckle. "Your dress." He points at your dress before shifting his attention back to the road. "It's pretty. It looks good on you." You smile.

"I picked it."

"I figured. You've always had better taste than Jiwoo."

"Stop." You chuckle. "She did my hair and makeup."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." He nods in approval, bottom lip poking out. He really does think you look incredibly pretty— he's always thought you were cute, beautiful. But tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you and that'll be bad news for him as the evening continues. First and foremost though, his goal is to keep you comfortable and happy tonight. His goal is to make sure you have fun, and that's what he'll do with your pretty little self.

"Okay, I'll give her that. But, that stays between us." You snort. 

"Sure, Woo." He chuckles.

"Warm enough? Music too loud?"

"No, it's all fine. I'm good. Promise."

"Okay, cause we still have about another 30 minutes to go before we get to the winery."

"I'm fine." You reassure him with the prettiest smile before returning your attention outside the window.

"So, does Yeosang know you're going?"

"No."

"Mm, okay. Definitely not prepared for him to beat my ass tonight. I did wear my good socks though, so.. he can try it if he wants." He shrugs.

"He's not like that." You respond softly with a giggle. "Besides, it's my fault. I withheld it from him intentionally."

"Well, what's the deal? If you don't mind me asking." You sigh. "My sister said it'd be weird for you two to go to the party together so I'm suspecting it's a one-sided thing."

"I just.. don't see him that way."

"Why don't you just tell him?"

"I don't know. I'm not really good at these things. I don't know how to say it and I don't wanna hurt his feelings."

"You'll hurt him more by letting it slide like this, you know?" Wooyoung shrugs. "It's okay if you don't feel the same. No one can ever force you to feel a certain way and he'll understand that. But, it'll make it easier on everyone if you're just honest from the get."

"Mmyeah."

"I promise. It'll be tough to get it out, but he'll appreciate it."

"I know, I know."

"In the meantime, are we avoiding him tonight? Lemme know the plan." You shrug.

"If he comes up to me, I'll just explain. Then.. go from there. Wherever that is." You pout a bit.

"Hm." Wooyoung hums when he sees the worried look on your face. "Don't worry about it too much, okay? We'll have fun tonight."

"I feel bad that you're here."

"Ouch, why? Don't want me here?"

"It's not that. You were basically forced to be here so Jiwoo wouldn't get on you for her car."

"Eh, well. Her car is fixed. She can't always force me into things. Besides, it's free entrance to a winery with unlimited wine. Why would I say no to that?" You chuckle.

"You say that now."

"We'll enjoy it together, yeah?" He looks at you and you meet his eyes, nodding quietly in agreement. You hope you'll be able to enjoy with Wooyoung, but as of right now, you're a bit anxious and scared for what the night will bring.

When Wooyoung pulls up into the main lot of the winery, the parking attendant signals for him to follow the rest of the cars into the extended lot. He jokes under his breath that maybe, he should've followed his sister's lead with this one and left earlier. But, it doesn't last long when he's able to snag a spot right by the back entrance near the winery's lawn area— aka, where the party would mostly take place.

"Alright. If we ever need to dine and dash, just say the word. We'll leave." He says, hopping out of the car while you laugh to yourself. He swings your door open and holds out his hand for you to take, shutting it close after he's gotten you out of the car. He looks at you up and down once again, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks— this time, at a new intensity. "Yeeeesh, I gotta say, you look fine, 'lil mama." He smirks. Cause yes, that dress falls along your curves, your body, so beautifully. That dress pushes up your tits so nicely. 

And that dress hugs the curves of your ass so, so perfectly.

"Wooyoung." You whine a bit before playfully [and very softly] punching his bicep.

"Ah—" He laughs, holding out his arm for you to take. "I'm just being honest as your date." 

"You're making me shy."

"Am I?" He looks down at you with another shit-eating smirk. "What else can I do in the next few hours?" You squeeze his bicep as you enter through the back door, greeting familiar faces. To your surprise [or not], Wooyoung immediately introduces himself as your date and Jiwoo's brother, causing your colleagues and everyone around you to hype you both up as a good-looking couple. You don't even know how to respond besides a 'thank you,' letting Wooyoung take on most of the work with his 'yeah, i know we do's' or 'i know, she's just a little shy about it though's.'

"Shoulda left 30 minutes earlier." Jiwoo says, pulling you into a hug before Hongjoong follows suit. "The baddie herself has finally arrived!"

"Shoulda left on time 30 minutes later." Wooyoung retorts, still properly hugging his sister and greeting Hongjoong. 

"Time to catch up!" Jiwoo raises her glass and taps it. "The wine is pretty good, can't complain."

"Coming from the person who likes Svedka Vodka." 

"Hey! It's cheap and does the job quick!"

"That's why my bar closed a long time ago for you." Wooyoung winces before turning to you. "Wanna go find the right wine for you to sip on?"

"Charcuterie board was just replenished, too!" Jiwoo yells, just as she watches her brother hold your hand and lead you into the winery. "It's so weird to see him doing all that with her."

"Well, he is her date." Hongjoong says with a laugh, sipping on his wine while he holds her by the waist. "He's taking good care of her. Let 'em enjoy it tonight, hm? Just like we will." He hums as she giggles, placing a kiss on her temple before whisking her away to the other finger foods that were just set out. 

As you approach the table with endless different wine bottles set on the surface, you keep yourself close to Wooyoung especially with how packed the room has gotten. Wooyoung sets himself in between a red wine, a white wine and a bottle filled with some sort of pink-ish liquid, his hands grabbing two wine glasses and setting them down on the edge of the table.

"There's so much wine."

"Yup. It's nice that you don't have to pay for a dime. These things get costly."

"Which one is good?"

"Hm, let me check. I've heard of this winery but I've never tasted their wine before." He says as you continue to keep close behind him, looking over his shoulder. He picks up the bottle of red wine and takes it to his nose. "This smells hella bitter." Wooyoung says, smelling the red wine. "You probably won't like this one." He sets it back down and picks up the bottle of white wine. "Chardonnay might not be too bad." He pours a bit in his glass and hands it to you. "Taste it." You take the white wine into your mouth and make a face. "No?"

"Kinda bitter still."

"That's okay." He laughs and points to the pink bottle. "That might be good! Can never go wrong with Rosé. Wanna try it?"

"Can you taste it first?" Wooyoung nods, pouring himself some rosé— enough for a little sip. He nods in approval, shifting his attention back to you.

"It's good! You'll like it. I'll pour you a bit again and you can let me know if you want more or not." You nod. He hands you the glass, watching intently as you take a sip and nod in approval.

"Oh, this is good!"

"Yeah? Glad you like it." He pours some more in your glass, a little more heavy-handed than you like but you'll go along with it for tonight.

"What're you gonna drink?"

"I'm just gonna take some of this Cabernet and babysit it for the night." He reaches over to grab another bottle of red wine a couple of buckets away. He pours himself about half a glass before he's sipping it and humming in approval himself. "Yeah, that's pretty good." He sets his glass out, giving you the opportunity to taste his wine of choice. You take a little sip, shaking your head after giving him his glass back.

"Yeah, no." He laughs.

"It's okay. Red wine is tough to work with. At least we found you some good rosé, though. You gotta take those drinks for the both of us."

"Just one glass will do."

"Mm, a couple sounds better, though." He teases, lacing his hand back with yours as you both walk towards Jiwoo and Hongjoong, sharing a table with your other coworker and.. Yeosang.

"Y/N?" Yeosang looks up at you in confusion, and it almost breaks your heart the way he looks at you. You catch his eyes dart from you to your hand that's currently intertwined with Wooyoung's. "Wooyoung."

"What's up." Is all Wooyoung says as he looks at him over the edge of his glass, taking another sip.

"It's nice to see you—" Yeosang pauses and looks at you; you can't help but give him a pursed smile in return. "Together?"

"Mmyeah—"

"I see you went with the rosé! Nice choice!" Jiwoo cuts in, giving you a look to go along with it. "It's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. We tried the others, wasn't a fan of them."

"They can get kinda strong." She says, downing the rest of the Chardonnay in her glass. "Welp, it's a good thing we have refills right at the table! Seems like we're gonna need it." She pours herself more Chardonnay before pouring you a bit more rosé.

"Jiwoo! I haven't even finished the first glass yet!"

"It was getting warm, you needed the refill." She smirks. You squint your eyes at her before briefly scanning the table, Yeosang now occupied with your coworker. He doesn't seem to want to make eye contact with you any time soon, and that particular unsettling feeling hits you in the gut. You're scared you've already ruined your friendship for pulling this stunt, for not being honest in the first place. You're scared you might've lost your other bestfriend because you were too busy hiding.

"Good?" Wooyoung leans forward to look at you, his soft eyes trailing over your features. He can already sense the shift in your mood and he doesn't want you to start overthinking and getting in your head, especially tonight.

"I think so." 

"You sure? Got my good socks on." He points down to his boots. You smile at his reminder and it instantly eases him. 

"I'm sure." He nods, slipping his arm behind you to rest on the back of your chair. Luckily, the CEO kicks off the dinner portion of the evening. He starts off his speech that lasts about a good minute, thanking everyone for their hardwork and dedication this point in the year. Once finished, he calls on a table to begin lining up for dinner. You, Wooyoung, Jiwoo, Hongjoong, Yeosang and your other coworker patiently fall in line for the buffet-style catering. Wooyoung makes sure to slip in behind you, creating a barrier between you and Yeosang even if there's no obvious hostility. It does help knowing he's creating some distance and you appreciate him for it. You fill your plate with a good scoop of food before settling back down in your seat.

The table enjoys dinner; thankfully, everyone is in good spirits and is cracking jokes despite the awkward moment that fell between you and Yeosang earlier. Even if he was upset, he'd never show you [or anyone] how he was truly feeling, and that could very well become an issue, too.

When it's time for the dance portion, Jiwoo fills your glass along with hers. Even though you had eaten a good amount of food, the alcohol was quick to seep back into your system and loosen you up. But, even with the liquid courage, you couldn't help but still feel shy around her brother.

He just looked so good tonight, you were afraid of looking like a damn fool in front of him. 

In your favor, all Wooyoung cares about is making sure you have a good time. He can see how much you're trying to hold back, even when Jiwoo drunkly throws her arm around you and starts vibing to the music. At some point, the crowd splits you and Wooyoung from Hongjoong and Jiwoo, leaving you to your date to enjoy you all to himself. The DJ starts spinning familiar songs from the 90s, bringing a huge smile on Wooyoung's face.

"Come here." He says, pulling you closer to him as you dance around with him. "It's just me. Don't worry about anything or anyone else." He gives you a reassuring look, his hands loosely laced with yours. You start to feel more comfortable with his reassurance, singing and dancing along with Wooyoung. You find yourself laughing and playfully teasing Wooyoung when he shows off his dance moves and pulls you along into his shenanigans. Your worries seem to be a distant thought at this point, no longer being concerned about every little thing, every little detail.

You're having tons of fun with Wooyoung. You're no longer trying to control what can't be controlled, letting the night take care of the rest on its own.

In between, Jiwoo ends up finding you in the crowd, shoving more rosé your way to get you at a good drunk. And sure as hell, the trick works. Wooyoung finds himself smiling in pure adoration over you, letting you lazily wrap your arms around his neck while singing along to the songs and keeping you close—

Until there's a shift in the air and you feel the liquid courage finally kicking in the way it should.

Wooyoung takes your hand and turns you around, a hand resting on your hip as you dance against him. You don't even care that you've backed yourself up against him and are dancing on him the way you are, thoroughly enjoying how he grips your hips and pulls you flush against him.

It's a little much for someone like you, but you find that it gets you going. Almost has your brain going on overdrive, fixating on the fact that Wooyoung has you like this— wants you like this.

You continue to dance against him, loving the way he holds you and keeps up with your rhythm perfectly. It goes on for a few more songs, Wooyoung shifting to the side to get a good look and hype you up. He's had his fair share of dancing with women at clubs, but he can say hands down, he has never had as much fun as he did tonight. You didn't dance like you were out to prove yourself or something to anyone, to forcefully catch his attention or be someone you're not for all the wrong reasons— you just danced to have fun with him, trusted him to take care of you and help you loosen up. It was all genuine fun and good vibes; he's at the point of wishing the night would never end just so he could stay right here with you.

There is literally no care in the world; just you and Wooyoung, enjoying each other's company at this summer party you didn't even wanna go to. In the end, you're glad you ended up here with Wooyoung because it truly was one of the best nights you've had in such a long time.

"Woo." You turn, tired from all the dancing you've been doing with your handsome date. 

"Yeah, babygirl?"

"I gotta pee." He snorts.

"You should definitely break the seal if you wanna start sobering up."

"I should, huh?" He laughs and nods. 

"I'll wait out here for you, okay?"

"Mmkay." You part from him and it almost aches you to leave him for a second to relieve yourself. The need to pee becomes urgent, your feet rushing you along to the bathroom for a release. Good thing there isn't a line, and that the bathrooms are practically empty— you can sigh away in peace before washing your hands and freshening up a bit. You're excited to get back to Wooyoung, and it shows with the way you giddily pace out of the bathroom and down the hall—

Only to be stopped in the process by none other than your other bestfriend, Kang Yeosang.

You turn and find him there, a small smile plastered on his lips. Your heart immediately drops seeing him, and the guilt comes rushing back. You can't help but frown a bit, pursing your lips together before responding properly.

"Yeo, hi." You look at him with doe-eyes and he isn't sure if he should be more upset over the situation or sad. Maybe sad, because it's clear where you stand with him. And it sucks, but what is he to do? If you're happier elsewhere, who is he to prevent you from having that happiness?

"Hey you." He says softly. "I've barely seen you all night."

"Yeah, just been on the dance floor. My feet kinda hurt now that I think about it." He chuckles a bit.

"Sounds like you're having a good time."

"Um, yeah. Yeah." You repeat. "It's been good. Hope you're having a good night?"

"Can't complain, I guess?" There's a pause before you break the silence.

"Yeo, I'm sorry. It all happened last minute, I really wasn't trying to go but Jiwoo asked her brother and—"

"It's okay, seriously. It's fine. You don't have to explain." He says waving it off, probably trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal when yeah, maybe it isn't. But, you know he's still hurt. You know he still feels a hint of betrayal by the way this all went down— for saying no, for turning down the party, for not telling him you were all of a sudden gonna be here with Jiwoo's brother. For brushing his feelings under the rug.

"Is it?" You ask, still pretty drunk. If this were any other circumstance, you'd probably run away and hide. 

"Uh, yeah, it will be." Yeosang shrugs, unsure of what to say because he is sad about it, now that he truly thinks about it and lets the situation settle in his head.

"I'm sorry." Is all you say as a small frown builds on your lips. Just as you're about to turn to get back to Wooyoung, Yeosang catches your wrist and gently tugs you back. You look up at him, eyes full of curiosity as to why he's holding you back. You're scared for what's to come next, but you give him the opportunity to tell you whatever it is anyway.

"Maybe we can talk about this over dinner? Just me and you?" And as much as you should stand your ground and say no, you can't help but feel like you owe it to him. Maybe this would be it— the doorway to being honest, to telling him the truth. Maybe you two could have a good, friendly dinner and get past this without ruining what's already there; as friends. 

As for Wooyoung, he sees the whole thing with Yeosang. He can't help but watch, either. His eyes were scanning the crowd tough, a little too eager to have you back in his arms on the dance floor. When he finally caught your figure, your dress, standing in the main hall talking to Yeosang, he felt his heart drop. He's not sure what's going on, can't really make sense of what's being exchanged between the two of you. Yeosang still hasn't let go of your wrist, but Wooyoung catches you nodding before he does. Whatever it was, he's hoping you aren't hurt or anything along those lines.

"Hi." You smile toothlessly at him and he has the sudden urge to cup your cheeks, to pull you into his arms and hold onto you. At least you're smiling at him, that's all he could ask for.

"Hey." He smiles back. "I almost thought the toilet swallowed you." You laugh and shake your head.

"What if it did?"

"Then I'd have to go in there and save you, right? Who would I be if I didn't?" He holds out his hand as the next song plays, a little bit of that Jon B. with his They Don't Know. "Mm, I really like this song. Can we head back to the dance floor? I mean, if you don't wanna it's fine but please don't make me slow dance by myself." You giggle, taking his hand and letting him lead you back to the dance floor. He gently wraps his arms around you while you wrap your arms around his neck, his hands firmly keeping you pressed close to him. 

"Wooyoung."

"Mhm?" He maintains eye contact with you as you sway to the song, following along to the beat. 

"Thank you. For tonight. I've had a lot of fun."

"I'm glad. That's all I wanted." He smirks. "Assuming I'll get a free ride to next year's party, too?" You laugh.

"We'll see."

"No seriously though, I'm glad you had fun."

"I did. I really did." You tilt your head ever so slightly and the lighting from the string lights, the moon, hits you perfectly in this angle that Wooyoung feels his heart skip. The highlighter on your collarbone provides an extra layer of glow to everything about you and he honestly doesn't know how to act right now. You feel his hand gently rub at your lower back, his eyes moving from your nose, down to your lips. You catch his Adam's apple bob in an attempt to swallow this sudden nervousness down.

And you could be wrong, you don't really know what's going on in his head and vice versa. But, the moment his face starts edging towards yours, you can't help but follow his motions. In a sudden turn of events, you find yourself wanting, even needing to kiss him; you really hope to—

"If I didn't know any better, it actually looks like you two like each other a lot annnnd iono about all that." Jiwoo says, carrying the rosé bottle in her hand while Hongjoong tries to tug her away. Wooyoung rolls his eyes and tries to move you two away in tiny steps, fighting the annoyance within him when his sister [of course] butted in at a very pivotal moment. Cause yeah, he would've kissed you, and he would've genuinely enjoyed it. He wanted this, too. "Babe, I got the bottle. Open up—"

"Baby." Hongjoong says. "Stop, put it down. Let's go! Leave them alone!"

"Jiwoo, the hell. Are you trying to poison her?! She's good." Wooyoung says lowly with his brows furrowed, subtly brushing his sister off.

"Ew, fun police!" She looks at both Wooyoung and Hongjoong.

"Can you like, get yourself together? What's fun about drowning my date in rosé?"

"All of a sudden he cares." She snorts.

"Baby—sorry, sorry." Hongjoong has a sympathetic expression on his face while looking at you two. "I got this." Hongjoong whisks her away and grabs the bottle, successfully placing it down on another table before bringing her to get water.

"Jiwoo." You laugh, resting your head against Wooyoung's cheek, his grip on you only tightening as you softly sway back and forth to the music.

"Literally couldn't have been the worst time." 

"It's okay. Hongjoong's got her now."

"Sorry." He says, placing a gentle, feathery kiss to your cheek. "Just know that was not how I wanted that to play out." He rubs at your sides as you giggle, continuing to slow dance with Wooyoung under the starlit sky.

When the event officially concludes, the CEO and leadership team come back to the stage to thank everyone for the successful event, wishing everyone safe travels back home. Jiwoo runs to you and hugs you, asking if you had fun tonight. You tell her that you did and that you owe it to her and her brother for all of it. She laughs, happy everything turned out well and that her brother took good care of you.

"Take care of her." Jiwoo glares at Wooyoung while Hongjoong chuckles to the side and shakes his head.

"Okay, go."

"I mean it."

"I do, too!"

"Babe, text me when this big head brings you home. I might not answer though cause I'll be at Joong's but still—" You nod, completely ignoring what she's insinuating.

"Ew, no one fucking asked Jiwoo. Just go." Wooyoung mumbles under his breath, giving her a look. Your eyes widen when you feel Wooyoung slip his hand into yours and grip it tightly, leading you through the crowd of people building around the back of the winery saying their goodbye's. You both head into the car with ease, giving Wooyoung the opportunity to catch a minute before driving off.

"Hm, how do you feel right now?" Wooyoung spreads in his seat, scrolling through his phone.

"I'm fine."

"Not too tired?"

"Not really."

"Still kinda tipsy?"

"Still kinda tipsy." You reaffirm and he chuckles.

"Wanna get some food and hang out somewhere? No pressure. Can take you home if that's what you prefer."

"Um, yeah sure! Let's go."

"Yeah?" He smiles and buckles up, shifting the gear to drive. "Sick. I know just the place to get you some good snacks."

Said place ends up being a convenience store nearby that has the best egg sandwiches, spicy tuna onigiri, and Wooyoung's favorite grab n' go corndogs.

You enjoy the experience nonetheless. Wooyoung parks his car right at the front of the store, helping you hop out of the car before slipping his hand in yours. It almost feels way too natural for two people who were merely attending a party together as acquaintances, [per Choi San] but Wooyoung likes the way your hand feels in his. The way it fits perfectly, and how you seem to put all your trust in him this way. He shuffles towards the back and tosses a few things into the basket you're holding with your other arm, giggling when he debates between a regular corndog or a flaming hot cheeto corndog.

"I don't want my ass to be on fire though, so." He says out loud in the very empty convenience store.

"Wooyoung!" You whisper, more embarrassed on his behalf than himself. 

"I'm just saying Y/N, sometimes that shit is outta my control. I don't want it to be one of those nights." You laugh as he looks into the basket. "Is that all you want? A corndog?"

"Mhm. I'm still pretty full."

"Okay then." He takes the items to the register and quickly pays for it, giving you zero chance to slide in some cash. He smirks when he grabs the bag and heads back to the car, letting you know that he'd never let you pay anyway.

The drive to Wooyoung's endpoint is about 20 minutes away from the store, and up a dark hill. If it had been any other situation, it would've looked incredibly scary and suspicious. But since it's Wooyoung, you trust him wholeheartedly to bring you somewhere you'd enjoy.

"It gets better, okay. I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?" You squeak.

"You're probably wondering why my punkass is taking you up a dark hill. I promise the view up there is worth it. You trust me, yeah?"

"I do. Don't disappoint me, Jung Wooyoung."

"Nah, never that." He takes you further up the curvy road, finally pulling into a small lot off to the side. There aren't any other cars parked besides Wooyoung's, so it makes it easy for him to back into the spot. He leaves enough space to pop open the trunk freely, allowing you two to sit and enjoy the sideview of the city. "Careful." He says, bringing you to the trunk and making sure you're seated comfortably before grabbing the snacks. He plops into the space next to you and hands you your corndog, the both of you indulging in your snacks in pure silence.

"There's a path down there. You get a better view of the city." He covers his mouth while chewing on his corndog.

"Hm." You hum, looking up at the sky. "The stars are so bright tonight."

"I know, I don't remember the last time I've seen so many stars." Wooyoung points to the right. "Look! There's the big dipper." You chomp on your corndog as you look up to where he's pointing at.

"No, it's not?"

"Y/N. Please. That's the big dipper."

"I'm looking! I don't see it." He scoots closer and points again. At this point, Wooyoung is only inches away from your face. If you were to turn at the wrong time, you'd land a kiss on his lips unintentionally. 

"There!" He says. Lo and behold, Wooyoung's right. You finally see the shape of the big dipper up ahead, even if you're slightly distracted with Wooyoung's face being in such close proximity again. 

"Okay, you're right. I see it, I'll give that to you." You respond with a tiny smile.

"Haven't seen one in a long time." He smiles proudly before digging into his other snacks and powering through them. Wooyoung doesn't even move away from you after showing you the big dipper, but you aren't complaining. You've come to learn that you enjoy having him near, close. "You're done eating?" You nod, tossing your trash into the bag.

"Mhm." You hum contently. "Wooyoung." He looks at you with a brow cocked up, shoving the last bit of the onigiri in his mouth. He shouldn't like the way you say his name so softly, so delicately, but he does. Especially after tonight, he really, really does.

"Yeah?"

"I wanna walk down the path and look at the view." You stand and start walking towards the path, where it'll take you to a beautiful view of the city.

"Wait, hold up!" He says, grabbing his jacket and locking up his car. "Why does she walk so fast? Miss Quicksilver." He mumbles to himself. When he catches up to you, you feel him drape his jacket over your shoulders before coming to your side. "It's getting kinda chilly out." You look up at him with a small smile on your face, hugging the jacket closely around your frame.

"Thank you."

"Course." He holds out his hand. "It's dark, let me lead the way? You've got your pretty heels on and everything. You sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah, please?" Wooyoung almost buckles at the knees when he hears you plead the way you do, instantly locking hands while he walks in front to lead the way. You stay close to him, especially when the path has lower visibility than you expected. He tightens the grip on your hand, carefully navigating around the bushes along the way. When he finally reaches the end and brings you to the view, you take a few steps forward toward the edge of the overlook. There's a small board off to the side that outlines the history of the city ahead and when the overlook was created. You let go of Wooyoung's hand completely to rest on the edge, taking in the city lights. The crisp night air. The sound of the stream nearby. You rest your elbows on the stone, chin resting on the palms of your hands. Wooyoung smiles to himself as he admires you from behind, coming right by your side to enjoy the view. "It's so pretty."

"Yeah, it is."

"The crickets are loud. Kinda soothing to listen to, though."

"Louder than Jiwoo, that's for sure." You laugh, continuing to look at the view. 

"How'd you know about this spot, Woo? Do you take girls here on dates?"

"God, no. I just come here to chill when I need to get my mind together. I don't really share this spot with anyone." He rests his chin on your head and you don't budge, appreciating the extra body heat from behind.

"You shared it with me."

"That's cause I genuinely wanted to take you here. I know you'd appreciate it."

"Can I start coming here, too?" You look up at him with a smile.

"Only if you let me tag along." Wooyoung teases. "I am heavily equipped with the exact location details and everything."

"Mmkay, fair enough." You let out a content sigh. "I wonder what everyone's doing in the city. What their stories are like and what's happening in their lives right now. Do you ever think about stuff like that?"

"I do."

"It's crazy to think about, isn't it? Being in one place at the same time with all these people, filled with millions of different stories."

"It is." You look at the view with a small pout and Wooyoung feels his knees getting weaker over that damn pout. "Anyway." You turn to look at Wooyoung, who is very much still staring down at you in adoration. "What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" 

"What, can I not? You're just really cute, shit, sue me." You roll your eyes playfully before a yawn comes out, and Wooyoung frowns a bit.

"Yikes." You say just as you shake off the yawn.

"Tired?"

"Mm, it's hitting me now."

"The post-drunk crash." He sighs, cupping your cheeks and looking into your eyes. "Come on, let's get you home." 

"What if—" You cover another yawn again. "I don't wanna?" He drops his hands back down before grabbing your hand, slowly trailing back to the car.

"Then babygirl, I dunno. I definitely do not recommend sleeping out here, though." He jokes. He could technically take you back home and do all the things he would normally do if this were any other circumstance, any other person. He could have you right where he wants you and have you stay the night.

But, he won't. 

He won't do that to you because that's not what you are to him. You aren't just a body, and you aren't a temporary thing. On top of that, he probably should sort through his feelings, his emotions because he's not sure what the fuck he's been feeling all night; he just knows it's kinda different and kinda alarming for someone like him. 

Feels serious, too vulnerable.

"Yeah, I agree." You say sleepily, clinging onto Wooyoung's arm as you walk back to the car.

The ride home is quiet, and exhaustion almost completely consumes your body that you barely realize Wooyoung's thumb gently caressing the surface of your hand. You shouldn't get used to the feeling so much, knowing this is might all be for show especially over a summer party. It hurts to think about, but it's not like Wooyoung willingly wanted to be here. Maybe a small part of him did, but at the end of the day, this was purely a favor for his sister. You didn't think he'd catch feelings over one night, no. It wasn't in his nature to. You didn't expect that whatsoever, either. But, you also couldn't help but feel things after the way he treated you tonight. After the way he took care of you so, so well. 

Was it wrong to feel infatuated? Was it wrong to feel happy, giddy, after the time you shared? Being in close proximity all evening, sharing little subtle affectionate moments together?

The voice in your head tells you yes, and that you should know better than to think it'd last past this night. 

You are you, and Wooyoung is Wooyoung. 

"Y/N?" Wooyoung softly taps your thigh. You turn to face him, recognizing the awfully familiar neighborhood behind him. You had been deep in your thoughts, along with the mix of exhaustion, that you didn't know you've already made it home. "Thought you fell asleep. We're here."

"Already?" You give him a tiny, soft smile that he reciprocates before running to your side and helping you out of the car.

"You don't have to walk me."

"Y/N, please. Don't start spitting out nonsense." He says, unbuckling his seatbelt and running over to your door. He tucks a hand into his pocket while waiting for you to step out, shutting it gently behind you. He walks you up the steps to your studio, silently trailing behind even as you fiddle with your keys to open your door. Once you get it open, you turn to him with that angelic smile he's mesmerized by, causing him to smile in return.

"Hope you had a good time tonight."

"I did. I really, really did. Thank you for.. you know? Accompanying me and what not. Everything, really."

"It was fun." He pulls you into a hug, squeezing you gently. When he pulls away, he keeps an arm wrapped around your neck, planting a kiss on your temple. It lights a fire within you, the heat rising to your cheeks when he pulls back and looks down at you. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"You too. Drive safely." You feel the need to reciprocate the kiss somehow, and it doesn't help that Wooyoung lingers around for a second— mainly to make sure you make it inside your studio. With all your thoughts, you still find yourself reasoning with the giddiness you're feeling. You find the courage to tippy-toe and place a chaste kiss on his cheek, rushing into your studio with a soft: "Goodnight!" before shutting the door. Wooyoung silently laughs to himself as he digs his hands into his pocket, nibbling on his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big at the action.

But, his heart is damn near beating out of his chest, another thing that feels pretty unfamiliar but familiar at the same time. The only thing he knows for certain is that it probably can't be good for him—

To feel this way. Forcing himself to walk away from your studio after spending a good evening together. To want to call you even though he's just in his car downstairs. To keep you company until the next morning.

After all, you were starting to feel more than just a favor to him.

Those feelings can't be good for him.

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav

[chososchalupa]

I LOVE UR BULLY MEGUMI X READER CAN I HAVE JEALOUS MEGUMI

Thank you sm <3 ! I wrote this super quickly so im so sorry if its not the best! I've had the worst writers block lately. Hope you like it!

Training / Megumi Fushiguro

No warnings, Megumi is jealous bc Toge exists basically. not proofread + wrote this when i was half asleep but i had the urge to write after not having any interest for like a week so here it is

WC - 595

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

12:23

Seven minutes until class was over and you hadn’t heard from your boyfriend, Megumi, since 9:00 this morning. 

✧.*

You had tried catching up with him after training was over but he had mumbled something about being busy and left. Your friends Toge and Maki watched as he gave you a small smile before turning and heading back toward the school.

“What was that about?” Maki asked as you walked back over to them

“Yeah, he’s usually attached to you after training?” Toge laughed, “Wonder if he’s going to check on Yuji, It’s not normal for him to miss training”

You nodded, it was unusual for Yuji to miss training but you remembered him talking about a mission Gojo had assigned him for today. You racked your brain for reasons Megumi could be acting odd today. You met up for breakfast as usual and he was fine, the two of you walked onto the field and everything was fine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

✧.*

“Still haven't heard from Megs?” Nobara asked as the two of you walked out of your classroom

“Nothing. He hasn't even responded to my tex-” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the spiky haired boy walk into the cafeteria. You said a quick apology to Nobara and ran towards Megumi.

“Megs! Wait up!” you called as you caught up to him, “What is your deal today? You haven't talked to me at all since training this morning”

“I’m fine” he responded, not looking up from his phone as he continued walking

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked

Megumi took a quick glance at you before responding with a simple, “No.”

You sighed in defeat, choosing to continue walking in silence beside him.

The two of you sat at a table alone, not speaking until Toge, Maki and Nobara sat down with you. 

You noticed the quick glare Megumi threw towards Toge and then it hit you, the mornings training was different. You were usually paired with Nobara but since she skipped, Gojo had decided to pair you up with Toge and Megumi with Maki. You didn’t see the change as a big deal but Megumi must have felt otherwise.

You made small talk with your group of friends before excusing yourself and grabbing Megumi by the arm, forcing him to follow you out of the cafeteria. 

“Is this about me being paired with Toge this morning? You know I didn't choose to be partners with him!” You crossed your arms as you looked up at Megumi.

He sighed before nodding, “I know, it's stupid. You just looked like you were having a lot of fun training with him. You guys spent more time joking around than you did actually training.”

You rolled your eyes before wrapping your arms around his waist, “So you’re saying you're jealous?”

Megumi returned the favor by wrapping his arms around you, “Shut up” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head.

“You have nothing to worry about, Megumi. Toge is a great friend but I love you and only you. Nobody could ever compare, especially not Inumaki” you giggled

Megumi pulled away after giving your head one last kiss, “I love you. I’m sorry for getting jealous, maybe I could make it up to you?”

You giggled at his question, “And how would you do that?”

“Let’s skip the rest of classes today and watch movies and cuddle in my room?”

You smiled brightly up at the dark haired boy before grabbing his hand, “What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

[lushrue]

frozen hearts pt 8

simon gets his time in the spotlight! just a heads up, updates may slow down a little bit more since my semester starts next week, but i'm gonna try my best to stay consistent! feel free to send asks in between chapters if you want more of these boys!

cw: angst (if you squint), simon's got issues

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, keep pushing, 4, 3, almost there, 1.

simon groaned as he re-racked the barbell, wiping some sweat from his forehead and sitting up on the bench. these morning workouts were sacred to him. they were a chance for him to clear his head, think about nothing for a little while. with the heavy metal blasting in his ears, there was nothing else to worry about. except today, it wasn’t working quite as well as usual.

“struggled a bit at the end there.” price’s voice came from behind him. john was his dedicated spotter, always hovering right behind him. simon hadn’t been able to convince him he didn’t need one, not after he got lost in his head once and nearly crushed himself under the weight of his worries and the metal bar. he grunted in reply, grabbing his water from where it sat beside the bench. “jus’ havin’ an off mornin’,” he muttered, taking a swig from the bottle. as open and honest with john as he was, he didn’t want to admit just what had thrown him off.

it was you. beautiful, irresistible you that he got to have all to himself tonight. his thoughts hadn’t stopped since he sent you that text, all but demanding you go on a date with him. he’d never considered himself as having a felicity of expression, but that had felt more brutish than his usual offhand comment to you. he’d agonized over that text for hours, writing and rewriting and asking kyle for advice and then rewriting again. it still hadn’t quite come out how he’d wanted it. you’d responded favorably enough in your usual cheery manner, but he couldn’t help but worry about what your true thoughts were. did you hate him? did you think he was an ass for being so direct? or did you like the more direct approach? do you want to be with everyone else and not him?

the truth was, he wasn’t sure if he deserved you. he’d had to overcome that roadblock with all three of his men, placing trust in them that made his skin crawl to think about. his bloody, beating heart laid in all of their hands. he was just lending it to them for a while. it had taken him so long to give them that privilege and they’d always treated it with the reverence and care it deserved. simon wasn’t ready to hand himself over to you like that just yet and tonight would be the most vulnerable he’d ever been with you. it had kept him tossing and turning all night, eyes red-rimmed and bleary when johnny rose to kiss him good morning. price had tried to convince him to take his workout easy today, the exhaustion hanging heavy on his bones like a winter coat that was two sizes too big. pushing himself felt good, though. if he pushed himself, he could focus on the ache in his muscles rather than the tightness in his chest.

john walked around the bench, kneeling in front of simon and placing a gentle hand on his knee. price knew him best, knew what he’d been through better than anyone. they were the original two, together longer than johnny and kyle had even known them. while simon revealed pieces of himself to his partners in his own time, john had the full puzzle, a mismatched mosaic of loss and pain and suffering. simon flinched at the touch, his eyes darting from a speck of protein bar on the floor to his lover. he cleared his throat, running a hand over his face. “‘m fine,” he murmured, setting his water bottle back down. his fingers were stiff from how tight he’d been holding it.

john shook his head, raising a hand to hold simon’s chin. “y’r not,” he replied, his tone even and matter-of-fact. he’d learned early on that simon wouldn’t suffer anyone’s pity. “our li’l skater gotcha all out of sorts, hmm?” he huffed, almost frustrated that john could read him so easily. that was all the answer price needed, nudging simon’s thigh to get him to make room on the bench. he sat down beside him, keeping a grounding hand on simon’s arm. touch from a trusted person helped, he’d found. “they already like you, simon. they wouldn’t have agreed to any of this if they didn’t.” 

there was that pesky trust again. john couldn’t truly know what you were thinking, so simon just had to trust his assessment of the situation. sometimes he wished he was a mind reader. it would take so much of the guesswork out of it. no chance to fail, no chance to get it wrong. “yeah,” simon muttered, resting his arms on his thighs and clenching his hands together. “‘m tryin’ to believe tha’.” a long moment of silence passed. john sat patiently, his eyes trained on the sweaty man beside him. simon would speak in his own time, once he gathered his thoughts and translated from his own internal language to something others would understand. 

“i wan’ to be with ‘em,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “haven’ liked anyone this much since kyle. they’re…” he hesitated, his voice trailing off as his mind started working again. “they’re lovely and beautiful and so fuckin’ kind. don’ wanna fuck it up.” john reached down and grabbed his phone, turning off the music and letting silence fall over the gym. iron maiden didn’t feel like the appropriate backdrop for this conversation. “you did jus’ fine when we were courtin’ kyle,” john said, squeezing simon’s bicep. simon scoffed in response, his knuckles turning white under the force of his grip. he remembered the same sleepless nights and paralyzing worry, the fear that he’d have to watch his partners love a man that didn’t love him in return. wouldn’t call that “jus’ fine”, he thought.

“you did,” john insisted, tilting his head so that he could look simon in the eye. “you migh’ not believe it,” he started, “but y’r a pretty handsome bastard.” simon blushed at that, running a hand through his damp blond curls. “y’r funny when you wanna be. made me laugh within a minute of meetin’ ya. and y’r gentle. off the ice, anyway.” john let out a laugh, taking simon’s hands in his and stroking over his knuckles. “you don’ have to tell ‘em everything, si.” simon raised his head, looking at john. he hadn’t intended to tell you anything yet, didn’t want to scare you off, but it felt better to hear someone say it. it felt like permission. “jus’ give ‘em a little bit, yeah? show ‘em there’s a heart under all tha’ muscle.”

at that, simon chuckled, the tightness in his throat easing until swallowing felt like less of a chore. “yeah. think i can do tha’.”

you put your car into park and cut the engine, slinging your skating bag over your shoulder. you’d almost been surprised when simon asked to meet you at the rink. everyone else so far had taken you somewhere that had nothing to do with your sport. something besides the ice. that’s what johnny had said that night at the bar, and they’d seemed to take it seriously. this was simon’s element, though. this was where he felt most comfortable, where he seemed the most himself. you wondered what it was exactly about skating that loosened him up. when he was on the ice, he didn’t seem to care about how much space he took up or how other people perceived him. he had a role to play, and he played it well.

you stepped into the building, the cold air hitting you and making you shiver. the temperature change always sent a shock through your system no matter how much you tried to brace yourself. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you walked through the doors to the rink. the benches were empty, devoid of the crowds that usually flocked for free skate in the evenings. the only sound was simon’s skates scraping against the ice as he skated up and down the length of the rink. as you took a seat on one of the benches, pulling off your boots and changing your socks, you could see the glint of a rough-hewn figure eight on the surface of the ice. it looked like it’d been passed over many times, simon’s version of pacing on skates. you waved to catch his eye, and he gave you a nod as he passed you.

he finished his rotation before skating to the edge, leaning against the wall in front of where you sat. “get here alrigh’?” he asked, resting his arms on the ledge. you nod, pulling your skates on and starting to lace them up. “yeah, it’s always a pleasant drive.” the small talk felt stale with simon, completely different from johnny and kyle. it didn’t come naturally to him, which made you draw into yourself a bit. interacting with simon alone had always been a bit difficult for you because of how closed off he was. he didn’t share as freely as the others did; you knew nothing about his family or childhood, only that he grew up in manchester. you weren’t even sure you knew his favorite color. simon seemed to notice your hesitance and stiffened up, shifting on his feet and staring down at the ice.

as you pulled the guards off of your skates and moved to step onto the ice, simon held up a hand to stop you. “grab us a couple of sticks first,” he said, motioning to the tub of equipment that sat beside the hockey benches. you looked at the sticks, then at him, slowly putting the pieces together. “you’re gonna make me play hockey, aren’t you?” you asked, a small smile on your face. he shrugged, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “nah, thought we’d toss the sticks ‘cross the ice ‘n see how far we can get ‘em to slide.” you snort, shaking your head in amusement as you step over and grab two sticks. with your back turned, you missed the way simon smiled at your laughter.

you grab the one that was wrapped in his tape color, a dark purple that suited his personality perfectly. you pull out one without tape for yourself, stepping onto the ice and passing him his stick. “i’ll warn you, i’m much better suited to figure skating,” you said, brushing the stick across the ice to get a feel for it. simon hummed thoughtfully, turning his stick in his hand and leaning against it. he could only imagine what you’d look like swallowed up by all the pads and gear. a more possessive part of him envisioned you wearing his jersey, cheering all of them on from the stands. he swallowed down the thought, turning his focus back to the matter at hand. “‘m sure you’ll be great,” he said, skating closer to you.

you smile up at him, mischief in your eyes. he knew that look well, had seen it on johnny so many times when his partner was going to ask him to do something outside his comfort zone. he froze, cocking an eyebrow at you. “i’ll do this on one condition,” you say, flipping the stick over in your hands. simon scoffed, shaking his head. “you been this pushy on all y’r dates, lovie?” he asked in amusement. you laugh, the sound echoing in the empty rink. “no, i saved this all for you,” you joke, the interactions feeling easier the longer you stood there. “if you’re gonna teach me hockey stuff, i get to teach you some figure skating stuff too.”

simon hesitated, his eyes widening a little bit. he wasn’t graceful like you. he was all hard muscle, built for speed and physicality. he’d trained his body to be a wall, an immovable object that he could throw in between his teammate and an opponent. walls couldn’t figure skate. still, john had urged him to give into you. show a bit of vulnerability, give as much as he was comfortable giving. while the idea wasn’t entirely appealing, the smile on your face was too convincing. “fine,” he grunted, which made you smile wider. “but i go first, yeah? i’m runnin’ this show, after all.” you nod your head, bowing in acquiescence. “whatever you wish.”

he couldn’t help the soft smile that curled the corners of his lips. you were so easy, just like johnny. he could get used to you. he skated behind you, tucking his stick under his arm. “first things first, you gotta know how to hold the stick,” he said, grabbing your elbows and tilting your arms to position the stick against the ice. his hands slid down your arms to your hands, making you shiver. goosebumps followed his touch, both from the temperature of his fingers and the proximity of him. none of them had gotten this close to you on your dates. “ya righ’-handed or left-handed?” he asked, and you hold up your right hand. he shifted it towards the top of the stick, putting your left hand lower down.

“this one’s y’r control hand,” he said, covering his right hand with yours. you hadn’t realized until now how much bigger he was than you. “it’s the one that’s gonna keep the stick steady ‘n guide it where you wan’ it to go.” he repositioned your left hand, loosening your grip. “you wanna keep this hand loose. needs to be flexible so you can move the puck around better.” he skated back, giving you some space. you moved the stick across the ice again, feeling the difference in how easily you could maneuver. simon smiled, a hint of pride flickering across his face. he’d never considered himself a particularly good teacher, but you were certainly proving to be a receptive student.

as you got a feel for the new grip on the stick, he grabbed a puck from the wall, tossing it down on the ice. he nudged it over to you, adjusting his own grip and leaning forward a little. “hit it to me,” he said, his eyes shifting between you and the puck. you turn towards him, flexing your fingers and tapping the puck with your stick. it glided over to simon, who hit it back to you. you smiled as the two of you passed the slab of rubber back and forth. it reminded you of the games you’d play with your friends as a kid, hitting a balloon back and forth to see how long you could keep it in the air.

“y’r a natural,” he said, so softly you almost missed it. when you passed the puck back to him, he kept it, controlling it with surprising ease as he skated towards the blue line. you followed, watching as he positioned the puck for you. “wanna try ‘n shoot?” he asked, flashing you an amused smirk. you nod and he beckons you over, holding your hips to position you. despite the cold, heat flares up under his fingertips. your body feels warm, cheeks heating up as you take in his proximity. standing there in that moment, you realize that you quite like his touch. he’d barely so much as brushed fingers with you up until now.

it took a moment for you to realize that he’d been speaking to you, coaching you on how to execute a slapshot. you blink as you look back at him, a slightly dazed look on your face. he stopped speaking, taking in your expression before scoffing. “weren’t listenin’, were ya?” sheepishly, you shake your head. even though you know you have nothing to fear from him, he’s still intimidating at the end of the day. he’s big, broad, tall. you’re sure he could bench your weight on the worst day. instead of the scolding you expected, he just smiles in that non-commital way he does. “alright, i’ll say it again. but pay attention this time, yeah?” you nod, letting him coach you through it.

it took you many, many unsuccessful attempts. your shots were too wide, or too slow, or your grip wasn’t right. watching the puck soar over the net, you were almost beginning to think you’d never get it right. but then it happened. your momentum was just right, your swing had just enough power, and the puck hit the back of the net with a satisfying thwack. you squeal in delight, beaming with pride and excitement as you look up at simon. to your surprise, he’s looking right at you. has been the whole time, really. he could watch a puck soar through the air any night he wanted. it wasn’t every day that it was you hitting it. “perfect shot,” he praised, a brightness in his eyes that you were unfamiliar with. “if there was a goalie there, ya woulda blown a hole right through ‘em.”

you weren’t sure you entirely believed him, but it felt good to hear nonetheless. there’s a moment of awkwardness between you. if you were closer with him, the slot would’ve been filled by a hug or some kind of tender affection. simon shifted on his skates as if considering his next move. you tried not to be startled when he held his fist out to you. you’d seen price do the same to the boys when they scored a goal. it made your chest warm, made you feel like you were part of their world. you smile wide as you bump your fist against his.

the two of you take a few more shots at the net before you insist on switching gears. you were far too eager to show simon some of your tricks and feel the pride of successful teaching. simon grumbled a little as he put away the gear, but inside, he was bristling with excitement. this was intimacy and closeness that didn’t require vulnerability. sure, there was always the fear of falling on his ass, but it was just you. no one was watching, no one was judging. it was part of the reason he’d bought out the rink for the night. all that hockey money had to go somewhere.

you anxiously pick at the ice with the toe of your skate, practically vibrating as he skated back over to you. “this is gonna be so fun,” you say, almost like a promise. simon raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was unconvinced, and you smack him playfully. “i went along with your hockey stuff, so now, you have to go along with my stuff. deal?” begrudgingly, he nods and you clap your hands, unable to contain the energy. you grab his hand and pull him back towards the blue line, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. “i won’t make you do anything crazy. just some simple stuff, okay?” he nods again and you take up your place on the line beside him. “okay…um, crossovers. i don’t think you do those a lot in hockey,” you say, almost as if you’re talking to yourself.

“just step and cross your feet along the line first so you know how it feels. use the inside edge of one skate and the outside edge of another.” you demonstrate first, eyes trained on your feet. you’re reminded of being a little girl, taking lessons from your coach and learning your basic skills. it’d been a long time since you’d broken them down like this. simon’s first steps are unsteady, unused to using his skates like this. it didn’t help that hockey skates weren’t exactly built for the same delicacy that figure skates were, but you were both making do. eventually, though, he’s moving at your pace, watching his feet more often instead of yours.

“good, that’s great,” you praise. he seems to blossom, opening up to reveal a soft center the more he spends time with you. the small glimpses you’ve gotten up till now have been beautiful; what would it look like when his walls were completely torn down? before you can think any longer on it, you take his hand again and skate with him to the center face-off circle. “now we’ll try it moving. think you got it?” simon laughs, letting himself drift slowly around the circle. “i didn’t learn to skate yesterday, lovie. think i c’n handle myself, yeah?” he stares down at his feet and starts to skate around the circle. 

you stand in the center and watch, a hand on your mouth stifling your laughter. he’s crossing his feet over, but barely. he’s skating like a hockey player. you suppose you can’t be too surprised; it’s in his nature, it’s what he knows. but it lacks the grace, the gentleness of what figure skating is supposed to be. he catches you out of the corner of his eye and stops, shrugging his shoulders. “wha’? though’ i was doin’ a fine job.” you laugh at that, skating closer to him. “you were, simon. it’s just that…it wasn’t very delicate.” he scoffs, crossing his arms defensively. “y’seen me? not exactly delicate, am I?”

you have to concede, he’s not the most dainty thing on the surface. “figure skaters don’t have to be,” you counter, skating around the circle to demonstrate. you lift your leg as you push off and switch your weight, every move a delicate balance between your upward force and gravity’s downward one. you’re pushing just enough to propel yourself forward, to lift your leg from the surface of the ice, but letting gravity do enough work that your leg rises slowly. it looks effortless when you do it, simon thinks. it’s like you were built for it, hand-sculpted by God for the purpose of creating beauty for people to enjoy.

you stop yourself, using the leftover momentum to skate back around to him. “you just have to move like you are. pretend you’re floating on air. imagine how weightless you’d feel.” simon wasn’t sure it made sense to him. a person couldn’t be weightless. but for you, he’d humor the thought. he started to skate around the circle again, this time with you following him. he closed his eyes, drifting off and pretending to be a cloud. it was hard to see himself as some white, fluffy, soft thing. he was anything but, all hard corners and jagged edges. still, you watched breathlessly as he began to glide across the ice, like his skates were barely touching the surface. you skated around with him like that for a while, watching the weight seem to lift off his shoulders. you’d never realized until now how world-weary he looked.

when he opened his eyes, he was met with your smiling face and your hand in his. and to his surprise, he smiled back.

simon walked you out to your car with a bit of a limp. you’d tried to teach him how to spin, which had resulted in many spills on the ice. you were sure his hip would be black and blue in the morning, but not once had he complained. there was laughter, levity, lightness that you hadn’t felt from him before. he always seemed to hang over the rest of the group like a distant stormcloud, not unsettled enough to rain thunder and lightning down but plenty darker than the rest of the group. you’d managed to bring out some new side of him, something that he’d never let you see before. it felt like the keys to the kingdom.

you place your hand on your door, turning to simon with a smile on your face. you’d both exhausted yourselves, but somehow you felt you could go for hours more. “it was really nice skating with you,” you said, clutching your coat a bit closer to your body. the winter air was brisk, and part of you was glad the season was coming to an end. “i had a lot of fun.” simon nodded to you, keeping a respectful distance just like the others had. “yeah, thanks f’r teachin’ me how to figure skate,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “think i still prefer watchin’ you.” you laugh at that, a bit of humility bubbling in your chest.

the two of you seem to hesitate again, caught in another awkward moment. you’re waiting for him to move, and he’s uncertain of you. he’d heard johnny and kyle talk about kissing you. your lips were soft, you tasted sweet, your body melted so deliciously against theirs. his hands balled up in his pockets, flicking his gaze down from your eyes to your mouth. he could imagine the feeling. you swore he was leaning in, and you leaned in too, but he pulled back. you tried not to be hurt by it, but the way he looked at you proved that your face wasn’t as good at hiding it. he cleared his throat, turning toward his car across the parking lot. “text me when you make it home, lovie,” he said, giving you an almost apologetic wave.

you murmur a goodbye and wave back, climbing into your car and the blessed warmth of your heater. he hadn’t kissed you. the others had all kissed you, but simon hadn’t. it made you worry. perhaps he didn’t like you. perhaps he was just doing this because the others were. you tried not to think too deeply about it as you shifted your car into reverse and pulled out of the lot. simon watched you go, his phone held to his ear as it rang. his chest felt heavy, regret seeping in. “simon?” john’s voice crackled through the phone speaker. “couldn’t do it, john,” simon said, his voice soft and melancholy. price let out a sigh. simon could almost hear the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, a sad grimace on his features that only came out for his longtime partner. “come ‘ome, si. we got takeout.”

simon pulled out of the parking lot, watching your tail lights disappear down the road before turning towards home.

taglist: @cadotoast @jupiternighties @hxnneydew @kaoyamamegami @lolly145 @linaangel @bestbookfriends @callsignang3l @livingoutsidethetardis @msecho19 @aylitgirl @vvs-dlxodyd @bollzinurmouth

[inkbybambi]

simon "ghost" riley/john "soap" mactavish/f!reader words: 4.2k warnings: mmf, threesome, fingering, anal fingering, finger sucking, riding, creampie, doggy style, pet names (kitten, bonnie, angel, etc), dirty talk, breeding kink notes: this was written as part of the valentine's exchange from @bunnyreaper ♡ this is a gift for @auspicioustidings ♡ this is my first time writing a threesome, but i loved every moment of it ♡ header image is coral charm peony ii by mia tarney

The light of the dying sun slowly drains from the horizon, hues of blues, pinks, and purples following in its wake. There’s a gentle breeze coming through the open windows of the cottage; a little haven tucked away for you and yours. A smile plays at your lips as a small cow-shaped timer trills from its perch on the kitchen counter. You slip on a pair of oven mitts decorated with highland cattle, taking out your shortbread from the oven lest it bake for even a moment too long. 

Your boys were due to be home soon and this sweet treat was the last on your to-do list. 

They had left you earlier that week with a messy amount of kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead and lips and anywhere they could reach, really. You had similarly returned the favor, finding your favorite lipstick to press marks onto Simon’s mask and Johnny’s glove before pressing other faded marks elsewhere. 

Before letting them cross the threshold back into the world — one that had tried to take them from you more times than you could count — you spritzed your favorite perfume on their wrists, sealing it with a kiss. The scent may fade with the mark, but they’ll know. 

Your heart ached the moment they left and its felt more numb in the days since, waiting dormant for them to return, to let you breathe fully knowing they’re there, that they hadn’t been taken from you. 

You inhale sharply to disperse your lingering worries. They’ve always, always come home to you. Today will be no different.

You leave the shortbread to cool on a rack as you gather your sugar and butter for the caramel next. 

The one perk of solitude means the abundance of time you had to practice. Johnny isn’t necessarily known for his patience — not when it comes to you or Simon — and he would’ve been quite the distraction. You burnt enough caramel without him, thank you very much. 

The soft, warm lights of the kitchen accompany you humming Simon’s favorite song, staring patiently at your pan as your sugar melts slowly, pulling you into a sugary-sweet trance. 

You lose yourself to your very serious task of making sure your caramel doesn’t burn, the melody of the song lost in your throat as your humming softens, concentration on anything outside your little kitchen waning. 

The click of the front door doesn’t phase you, and neither does the muffled thump of boots and bags. The sugar has started to dissolve and you can’t bear to lose your concentration now. 

“Bonnie!” 

You barely have time to register Johnny’s excited shout, head snapping up only moments before strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you up to spin you in a hug. 

“Johnny!” you laugh through your startled yelp, squirming in equal parts because you want to hug him properly and to get back to your caramel. 

“Johnny, the caramel!” you exclaim when his grip on you only tightens, his face pressed between your shoulder blades. 

“Ach, we dinnae caramel,” he says almost petulantly, voice lost against the fabric of your shirt. He does put you down — albeit reluctantly — but all you do is turn in his hold to lace your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than before. 

“Missed ye,” he says as a soft kiss is pressed to your temple and you bury further into the crook of his neck. You’ve missed his warmth, and his scent, and the comfort of him and being his. 

You feel like you miss him all the time, but it’s the moments when they’re first back when you realize just how much, and the knot of worry slowly unfurls the longer you spend in his arms. 

He cradles the nape of your neck gently and you can hear the angry bubbling of your sugar — too far gone now to save — but you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself away from him for even a moment. 

“Where’s Si?” you ask against his skin when there’s a very distinct lack of your other half from the kitchen, craving his touch just as badly. 

It’s not real until you’ve seen them both, until you’ve touched them both, to know that they aren’t the phantoms that will sometimes accompany your dreams, your memories. 

“Think he went to the shower, hen,” comes Johnny’s soothing reply, pulling you back from your hiding spot to cradle your face in his hands. 

You used to hate how small you felt with them; how it felt like you were an accessory to them rather than part of them. 

Now you feel nothing but protected, cradled carefully in their hold, their own way of keeping you safe. 

You pout, glancing over his shoulder, down the hall to where the bedroom lay, seeing the faint hint of light from the bathroom spilling out. Johnny’s calloused thumb rubs over your bottom lip, before he crowds in close enough to give you  a soft kiss. 

“Without us?” you ask, and he snorts in reply. 

“Go on, then,” he says as he herds you towards the bedroom, a gentle pat to your ass to urge you along. “Go join ‘im.” 

Your pout deepens, holding out your hand for him. 

“Come with me,” you don’t whine, but you wiggle your fingers enticingly. You’ve been without them for so long, you don’t want to go another second without either of them. 

You’re selfish in very few ways, but are unapologetically so when it comes to your boys. 

Johnny steps into your space, a soft kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, before nudging your cheek with his nose. 

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promises with another lingering kiss, and you nuzzle into him momentarily before nodding and releasing his hold. Like a moth to a flame, you follow the path to the bedroom, seeing Simon’s clothes already tucked into the basket that’s specifically meant for their work clothes. Anything to separate who they are out there to who they are with you. 

You shed your own clothes, placing them in the empty hamper before stepping into the bathroom, the tile cold on your feet. 

He stands just beyond the glass, new scratches and bruises littering his skin. You’re going to kiss each and every one before you fall asleep tonight. You take a few moments to appreciate him; the broad expanse of his back, the slight layer of fat that surrounds his tummy, thick thighs that you love to bury yourself between, muscles moving like water. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” comes his teasing lilt as he turns to face you, a smirk plastered on his lips as he tilts his head in invitation. You bite your lip to hide your excitement, hurrying over to join him in the shower, taking his hand as he reaches for you, drawing you under the spray of the water.

“I have plenty of photos, actually,” you tease back. He tilts your chin up with a tattooed finger, leaning down to kiss you, before he moves to hold your throat delicately, keeping you in place. You inch up on your toes to press even closer, nipples pressed against his broad chest. 

“Not nearly enough, love,” he replies, not giving you a moment to answer before he draws you back into his mouth, licking into you and swallowing your gasps. You hum and lean into him, lacing your arms around his shoulders. One of his large hands splays against the middle of your back, the other trailing down your spine to the curve of your ass, pulling you in close. 

“Missed you,” you breathe out between kisses, as you cup his face to kiss him deeper, desperation thickening in your veins the longer you’re in his hold. “Missed you so much,” and your nails dig into his skin, adding a collection of your own marks to the others on his body. 

A warm body at your back makes you shiver, pulling away from your kiss to lean your head back on his shoulder. Simon cradles the back of Johnny’s head, kissing him softly. 

“You two need to clean up,” you murmur into Johnny’s jaw, lips grazing the stubble that’s been growing for a few days. It burns your lips, but you’re thankful for any reminder of them. 

“But you’re so comfortable,” Johnny practically whines as he leans further into you, arms tight around your waist, thankful Simon was there to provide stability or else you absolutely would’ve lost balance. 

“Johnny,” Simon admonishes gently, a bite to his ear in reprimand. Johnny squeezes your tummy tighter in reply, but turns to brush his nose gently over Simon’s. 

You wriggle from his grip, a hand on each of their forearms for balance, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s mouth before pressing one to Simon’s. 

“The quicker you get clean, the quicker you can join me on the bed,” is your parting words as you grab a fluffy towel from the rack, drying yourself before sauntering to the bedroom, diving into fresh sheets. 

You hear the soft murmurs of their conversation curtained by the fall of the water, rolling onto your back and arching up as you stretch, feeling as the tension seeps from your body, relaxing further into the mattress. 

“MacTavish!” comes Simon’s warning bark before a very excited, very wet Johnny launches himself into the bed at you, burrowing his face into your neck as you giggle, feeling the bubbles of body wash that he hadn’t bothered to rinse all the way off. 

He peppers your throat and jaw with kisses, teeth scraping every now and then before he reaches your mouth for a breathless kiss, and you cradle his head gently, nails grazing along the nape of his neck, feeling how his shaved sides have grown just a little since they went away. You’re sure he’ll let you clean him up proper tomorrow, but you don’t want you or either of your boys to leave the bed for the foreseeable future. 

“Simon’s grumpy,” he says against your cheek, and you can’t help but snort. 

“Can’t possibly imagine why,” you tease in return, gripping a longer part of his mohawk and giving a harsh tug, hoping Simon brings an extra towel or two with him because the bed is damn near drenched — and not in the fun way. 

“Absolute menace, that one,” Simon says as he comes from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips showing the tantalizing line of his tummy that you love so much. 

“Aye,” Johnny agrees with a cheeky smile, removing himself from you and sitting on his heels, settling himself over you to turn back and look at Simon. “But ye love me.” 

Simon comes forward with a fresh towel in hand, motioning for Johnny so he can dry him off. 

Simon doesn’t say anything in reply — he doesn’t have to, and both you and Johnny know that your declarations of love will never go unrequited — instead stopping at the edge of the bed and reaching for him. 

“Be a good pup,” you say as  you push him back with your foot, pressing him back into Simon’s hold so he can dry him off, ruffling his mohawk and wiping away the lingering drops that cling to his tanned skin, Johnny’s own marks and scars adorning his body. The intensity of the blue of his eyes feels like a shock of electricity, his gaze unwavering from yours as Simon tilts his head to the side to press a gentle kiss to his jaw, a soft I love you pressed to his skin. Simon’s lips graze over to his ear, murmuring something too low for you to hear. 

Johnny turns enough to catch Simon’s mouth in a rough, dirty kiss, teeth nipping his bottom lip before a tap to his ass pushes him into motion, crawling his way over the bed back to you. 

You arch up into his body as he slinks closer, a hand on your jaw pulling you into for a filthy kiss of your own. You whine against his mouth as Johnny pulls you up from where you lay on the bed, moving to take your place. 

Johnny settles you over his hips, blue eyes sparkling in the lingering light of the bathroom, a fond smile painting his lips. As cute as he looks — and he looks adorable — the thick heat of his cock resting between your legs makes you ache, makes you want him to take what he wants. His nails dig into your calves as he anchors you against him, rocking his hips against yours, cock moving through your slick and catching on your clit. 

“God, we missed ye,” Johnny sighs out as he digs his nails into your skin, and you bite your lip against the sting of his possession. 

“Never heard the end of it,” Simon says as he comes around the side of the bed, one leg braced on the mattress, the towel parting enough to show his aching cock. 

“Did you take good care of our pup?” you ask through a gasp as you turn to the blonde, eyes fluttering as Johnny’s cock catches at your entrance. 

“Always, love,” he promises, Simon crowding in close as you pull his towel loose, blindly tossing it from the bed as he kneels on the bed at your side, swallowing your next gasp as he presses his lips to yours. 

“Don’t like it when you leave,” you pout against his lips as he moves to kiss down your jaw and throat, trailing his lips over your shoulder. Your head tilts to the side, wanting his teeth in your skin. 

“We’re here, darlin’,” Johnny soothes as a hand grazes up your side to grip your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple until it hardens under his touch. You lay above him, arms braced by his head as you catch him in a kiss, happily letting him take control as his tongue licks deep into your mouth. “We’re not going anywhere,” is his whispered promise and you just nod in agreement as you press your mouth back against his, unable to get enough of his touch, of his taste. 

“Missed your cock,” you whimper with a sharp roll of your hips, Simon settling behind you, hands on your waist as his chin tucks over your shoulder, watching your slick soak Johnny’s cock. 

“Gorgeous thing,” is Simon’s soft purr of praise, one of his hands slipping down the line of your tummy until he can press two fingers against your clit, his other hand grazing up to hold your throat, tilting your head back against his shoulder. 

“Dreamed of your cunt, bonnie,” Johnny pants from beneath you, feeling his cock pulse with each of your thrusts. His fingers grip your hips tight, and Simon tuts at him from his perch over your shoulder. 

“Don’t cum, pup,” and Johnny only whines in reply, nails biting into your skin. “Wanna see your cum spill from her pretty pussy.” 

You’re breathless, need and want coursing through your blood, desperate for something more. 

“Please,” you mewl as you try to paw for Johnny’s chest, but Simon’s hold on your throat keeps you in place. 

One of Johnny’s hands grip you hard enough to lift you from his lap, his other fisting the root of his cock so he can guide you down onto him slowly, your pussy fluttering as you sink deeper in his lap until he’s completely sheathed. 

“Fuck,” he bites out, and you feel the way his legs shake as he holds off his release. He looks gorgeous beneath you, head thrown back against the pillows, the line of his throat exposed and mournfully free of marks from either you or Simon. 

“How’s she feel?” Simon asks, dipping his fingers lower to feel for himself  where you and Johnny are connected. 

“L-like a fuckin’ dream,” comes his panted reply. 

“You wanna fuck ‘er?” he asks, like you aren’t even here. 

You feel like you aren’t, lost in the pleasure of Johnny’s cock nestled deep inside you, stuffing you full. You don’t think Johnny is capable of words after a week without you and your touch, but soon he starts a slow grind of his hips up into you, the crown of his cock pressing against your cervix. 

You cry out in pleasure as he continues the slow roll of his hips, fighting the urge to beg him to fuck you rough. This is for him just as much as it is for you. 

Simon’s grip on your throat remains, thick fingers collaring you, keeping you safe. The two fingers he used to rub your clit, to feel where Johnny was plugged into you, grazes your lips. You willingly open your mouth, swallowing down his fingers as best you can with him behind you. 

“Did you miss me too, darling?” he asks, though you can feel his smirk pressed against your skin, knowing you can only gurgle your answer around his fingers, spit spilling out from the corner of your mouth. 

“I know, kitten,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder, pressing his fingers even deeper, causing you to choke, your throat working around his digits. “I missed you too.” 

He withdraws his fingers as you gasp for breath, losing it the next second when Johnny snaps his hips up hard against you. His soaked fingers trail down your spine to your other hole, the tight ring of muscle fluttering as he circles it, just pressing the tips of his fingers against it. 

“Johnny couldn’t stop talking about your ass,” Simon says against your skin. Your eyes flash to Johnny’s, glazed and dark, but his eyes are locked to Simon’s. “Told me how warm it is,” he continues, very carefully pressing one of his thick fingers against your rim as you beg yourself to relax. “How every single inch of you,” he says as he slowly begins to pump his finger deeper and deeper with each word, “is meant for us.” 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus, Simon,” comes Johnny’s choked moan, “she’s squeezin’ me so tight.” 

Simon hums in reply as he continues his leisurely pace of fucking his finger into you. “Wonder what my cock would feel like in here,” he muses, continuing a line of kisses across your shoulders. He digs his teeth in deep into your shoulder, a shaky moan rising in your throat as he wiggles a second finger into the tight ring of muscle. 

“T-too much,” you whine out, asshole fluttering desperately around his fingers. Johnny’s cock was bigger than Simon’s two fingers — but it had been well over a week since either of them had touched you there. 

He stills as Johnny leans up to kiss along your collar and chest, tongue licking across your nipples. 

“Give me a color, love,” he asks gently, the fingers around your throat loosening so it’s easier for you to breathe. Johnny’s soft pants ghost against your skin as he holds your waist gently, ever so patient with you. 

“Bonnie?” comes Johnny’s soft prompting, laced with concern when you didn’t answer. 

“Green,” you whisper out after another moment of pause, and Simon’s answering good girl makes you melt further into their touch. 

Sweet, precious girl Johnny whispers against your collar, one arm laced around your waist as his other hand reaches for Simon’s hip. 

You bite your lip as tears thicken your throat. Your head is muddy with pleasure and love for your two boys, not realizing how much you’ve missed them until now, their soft praise spoken against your skin, kisses and devotion pressed to each exposed inch that they can reach. 

Simon carefully begins to thrust his fingers into you, sinking deeper each time until he’s able to curl and thrust without any resistance. Heat licks deep in your belly, broken moans catching in your throat with each expert thrust of his fingers. 

You vaguely hear him ask Johnny for the lube, hearing the pop of the cap as he squirts a generous amount into his hand, coating his length before smearing whatever is left over your hole, empty now without his fingers. 

He drags the tip of his cock over your hole, teasing the relaxed ring of muscle, watching as it looks like your hole is trying to draw him in, desperate. 

“Think you can take me, love?” comes his question pressed against your cheek, and you lace one arm back around to hold the nape of his neck, a soft yes falling from your lips. 

One thing you’ve learned from your boys is they always want to hear you. They love how vocal you are — Johnny especially — but hearing how badly you crave them, need them makes something primal in them snap, wanting to give you everything you beg for and more. 

“Slowly now,” he says as he pushes the crown past your ring of muscle, and you swallow thickly, nails digging into any part of Johnny you can reach. Johnny does his best to distract you with soft praises as Simon slowly sinks into you, pausing halfway when he feels you trembling under his touch. 

“Fuckin’ hell, darlin’,” he groans out, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“Feels good, don’t she, Si?” 

Simon inhales sharply, raising his head enough to pull Johnny in for a kiss as your nails scratch at the base of Simon’s neck, leaning back against him as you watch your boys indulge in each other. 

“Incredible, just like you said,” he agrees with one more kiss, teeth nipping sharply at Johnny’s bottom lip. 

Johnny leans back down against the sheets, pulling you forward. Simon follows carefully, allowing Johnny to adjust your hips so it’s easier for him to sink the rest of the way into your hole. 

“Angel of our lives, ah swear,” Johnny says as he begins to carefully thrust up into you, knocking the wind from your lungs when his sharp thrust catches that squishy spot deep inside you that makes you keen and clench around them, Simon’s moan reverberating against your back. 

Simon carefully ruts into you, timing himself with Johnny’s thrusts, until you can’t think of anything more than the heat coursing through you, sparking and igniting like a wildfire. 

You can’t think of anything other than their names, but after a few minutes, Simon braces one of his feet on the bed so he can thrust in harder, rougher, and your voice cracks with how hard you cry out, lost to the pleasure. 

“Wanna stuff you full,” Johnny babbles beneath you, his thick thumb moving down to rub your clit, touch electric and causing you to moan and shudder in his hold. “Watch our cum drip from you until you’re full of our babe.” 

Simon’s free hand settles over your tummy, thumb stroking in surprising gentleness compared to the absolute filthy mess they’re making of you. 

“You want that, lovie?” Simon asks from behind you, his question punctuated with a sharp thrust, the obscene sound of his balls slapping against your ass accompanying the sounds of Johnny’s cock drenched in your slick. 

You’re helpless and reduced to nodding and whimpering, clenching hard around them as you whine out about giving them a baby. 

“Christ, love,” Johnny grits out before he’s spilling deep inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. He grips the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss, a mixture of panting his moans against your mouth and swallowing your own. 

Simon’s fingers are back on your clit, your nub hard and sensitive, sensitive to his touch. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant out as you reach your peak, Simon buried deep inside you as his grinds, cock pressed deep inside you. 

Johnny’s cock pulses with your orgasm, walls fluttering and spilling your release over him, the force of it causing his cum to spill out from where Johnny’s still plugged deep. 

“Atta girl,” Simon snarls as he buries his teeth in your shoulder with his own release, your eyes rolling back as you feel each thick pulse of his cum. He growls as he minutely thrusts into you, his own cum spilling from where his cock is nestled in your ass, making a mess of Johnny beneath you two. 

Simon draws his teeth from your shoulder, soothing  over the wound with his tongue as it pulses with your heartbeat. Soft kisses are placed along the line of your shoulders and close to your throat as you settle into their touch. 

He gently draws you to him, pressing a significantly softer kiss to your lips as your breathing evens out. You press your forehead to his to bask in his warmth, his nose pressed to your cheek as his nuzzles into your skin before carefully pulling out, his cum slipping from your hole. He helps keep you in place for Johnny to pull out as well, before Johnny is gathering you into his arms, cradling you against his chest and running his fingers delicately along the line of your back. 

You hate how empty you feel without them, but they’re right there, close enough for you to touch, for you to know they’re here with you, home, finally. 

You nuzzle into Johnny’s hold, already the edges of sleep drawing you deep. Simon settles behind you, a thick arm around your waist, anchoring you to him, to them. You murmur something about ruined caramel, but the press of their lips across your cheeks and forehead are all you need, finally allowing you to rest in the comfort of their arms. 

[pleasoflove]

love grows best in little houses — lee jeno

roommate jeno x f reader

fluff, friends to lovers, pining, close proximity … >:)

7k words

summary: love grows best in little houses with fewer walls to separate, where you eat and sleep so close together you can't help but communicate. if we had more room between us, think of all we'd miss... love grows best in houses just like this.

authors note: this silly modern all white farmhouse quote had me thinking!!!

“I’m home,” You announce quite obnoxiously, jingling your keys and shopping bags. You made sure to shake the doorknob a little before stepping in as well, doing the courtesy of warning your roommate in case he had company over. 

Instead, you find him relaxed on the couch, a knowing smile resting on his face. He gets up to help you with the grocery bags, “I could tell.” 

You give Jeno an eyeroll, hanging your keys on the little rack by the door. “I’m doing you a favor, okay? Last thing I need is to walk in on you going at it with some chick from your lab class.” 

He laughs a quick laugh, and you get lucky enough to see his eyes form into crescents before his features relax. “Don’t worry. I think I’d warn you before starting something in here.” 

“Better safe than sorry.” 

Sometimes you find yourself squinting and having quick, fleeting thoughts like maybe I should get my eyes checked, but you’re not oblivious to Lee Jeno’s looks, whose entire being seems to have been crafted by all the angels residing in the heavens themselves. All five feet and ten inches of his existence, from the little stray hair that sticks up from the rest to the bottoms of his feet; Jeno is a sight for sore eyes. 

He’s inescapable, too. Quite literally, since you live with him in something that would be flattered to be even called a shoebox of a home. 

The front door is simply the entrance to the kitchen— there is no dining room. The wall to your left side when you walk in is essentially the side of the staircase to your little loft, where your measly mattress sits on the floor. 

Beneath your loft is Jeno’s “bedroom”, where his mattress is placed directly on the floor as well. He’s got a curtain hung up to separate the joke of his room from the living room, which barely fits the couch that the two of you snagged off someone from Facebook Marketplace. 

So, yeah, your living situation is tough, except it only gets harder when the two of you share the most crucial and, possibly, most private space that anyone could ever have. 

The bathroom. 

Oh, it was tough on your heart. It still is, sometimes, though you’ve gotten better at pretending that you can’t see Jeno’s entire naked upper body when he steps out of the shower and you dash inside to finally relieve your bladder. 

It’s not ideal, you know, but it’s the best that your money (combined) can get. Before the start of your junior year, you had been in such a slump over a breakup with your ex that you slacked off hard when it came to apartment hunting. Prices had gone up tenfold by the time you started searching, and with every single day that passed, they only rose and rose, practically laughing in your face for your earlier incompetence. 

It wasn’t until you mentioned to your friend (coworker), Mark, that it had been absolute hell trying to find a place to stay. And bless his heart, that precious boy Mark Lee, as he lifted his hand to run it through his hair, only to accidentally knock off his uniform hat off his head as he exclaimed, I got you! 

That’s how you met Jeno. A friend of a coworker-turned-friend who had been sheepishly looking for a roomie to occupy that devilishly tiny space because even though it was smaller than a suburban backyard, the rent was still so high. 

Before you moved in, your automatic gameplan with any roommate was to interact as little as possible. Stay out of the kitchen if they’re in it. Watch movies in your room if the living room is occupied. Avoid being in the same space at all. Less contact with someone you barely knew meant less conflict, less tension, less worry. You just come in and out, talk about whose turn it is to buy the paper towels and stack the dishes, then move on with your life. 

Absolutely impossible with Jeno. Firstly, he’s a kind-hearted boy. Well, not a boy— he is a man. A boy-ish one with that smile he’s got, and the tenderness behind his words yet the playful venom he spits at you whenever he gets the chance. It’s hard to stay away when his personality is so well-balanced and welcoming that you can’t help but to interact. 

That, and it’s hard to avoid someone when you’re in the kitchen cleaning up and they have to walk right past you in order to leave. The first few weeks were awfully awkward; a constant cycle of oh, sorry, as the two of you tried to get past each other but couldn’t because of how close everything was together. Jeno gave up the act quickly and began to laugh softly at these little conflicts. It made you feel better, made you feel like you too could laugh at the silly reality of your situation. The apartment felt warmer. You’re unsure if it’s because it was tiny, and the heat was trapped, or because getting comfortable felt nice and it slowly transformed your place into your home. 

“Ah. Fruity Pebbles? Someone’s tending to their inner child.”

You huff, your back pressing against his as the two of you sort the new groceries into the little storage space that you have. “They were on sale. And what about it? I’m sure baby Lee enjoyed a bowl or two. Don’t mask your inner child’s excitement with learned patronization.” 

“Someone’s been reading lately,” He shoots back, and you can hear his stupid smile through his voice. “Big words for someone like you.” 

“You know what? You can forget about the pebbles. Get your own cardboard cereal.” 

“I don’t think it’ll fit in the pantry.” 

“Laundry day?”

Yes, laundry day. The most taxing and annoying chore of all. Laundry day, where you have to haul your drawstring bag of clothes down the stairs, out of the apartment and into the hallway, all the way down to the elevator. It’s a mission, it’s quite serious. 

Jeno stares up at you from the foot of the stairs, eyeing you with humor as he sees you lug around that giant sack of clothing. Oh, how helpful he is, only making you more self-aware as he stands with his fitted undershirt and notorious gray sweats. How lovely of him. 

You try coping with the close proximity by turning your attraction to him into annoyance, only your brain does this wicked thing where it gets so annoyed you cannot help but notice all the other handsome, kind, inviting things about him to get annoyed about.

You do not, by any means, have feelings for Jeno. He’s more like that hot friend that you are so sure is out of your league that you simply give up. Yes, he’s hot. Yes, you know nothing will come out of it. Yes, you are one hundred percent okay with that. It’s just difficult when he’s got a pair of eyes and you aren’t looking your best. Human nature to feel a little self conscious, you guess. 

“Let me come with,” He offers as you finally reach the bottom of the steps, mindlessly taking the lump of clothes and bringing it into his arms like it were the weight of a newborn baby. 

“Eh?”

“I will help you,” He starts again, this time speaking slowly to mock you. He’s trying to stifle a shit-eating grin from coming up on his face. He’s so unbearable that you lightly smack at his arm. 

You don’t understand why he would offer to tag along; the laundromat is one of the worst places to spend your free time at. The one you go to has a corner store right next to it, which is nice, but it feels boring again after you collect your snacks and choose a chair to sit in while you watch your clothes spin around and around. It’s even worse when the wall-mounted TVs play nothing but a loop of all the songs that reached top 10 on Billboard in 2013. 

But Jeno doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind a lot of things, you think, as you reach the building and hop out of his car. He’s got so much patience in his heart that you’re not sure what could ever bore him to death. 

The two of you pick your washers and start dumping your clothes in. It’s pretty quiet, save for the low rumbling of the other machines and Katy Perry’s Roar playing softly from the TVs. The bell on the entrance door jingles as an older lady walks in with a little boy who's got a candy bar in hand. 

When you finish loading the washer, you turn to Jeno swiftly. “Want anything from next door?”

He tilts his head, thinking. “Any sour candy.” 

While you head out on your mission to bag the snacks, Jeno picks a table by the window to sit at. He zones out, mindlessly watching the music video play out on the tv, but the sound is muffled in his ears. He's not sure if it's from his lack of focus or the overpowering sound of the machines running. 

He’s pulled out of it when the little boy speeds by. With the whole laundromat to himself, he weaves in and out of the rows like it's a maze, yet dutifully obeys his grandmother’s commands to pass him the little detergent tablets on the drying table. After he passes them to her, he starts running again. 

He’s about to pass Jeno again before he trips over his own shoelaces and tumbles down to the floor. Jeno automatically perks up, worry flashing in his eyes as he looks at the boy and then to his grandmother. Her eyes are busy on the laundry, sorting out the colors and the whites, and while Jeno is internally panicking about the wellbeing of the child, the little boy simply laughs it off and gets back up on his feet. He’s a little bashful due to having an audience, but after Jeno wordlessly sees that he’s okay, they both relax. 

The candy that he was holding had slid across the floor, so Jeno takes it upon himself to pick it up and give it back. He silently inspects it of any damage, earning a laugh from the little one as he hands it to him. 

The boy carefully unwraps it then breaks off a piece to give to Jeno. 

“Oh,” He starts immediately, taken aback. “No no, you have it.” 

The boy hums a short mm-mm while shaking his head, insisting that Jeno take it. 

With a weary smile, his big hand meets the small one in front of him and he gently takes the piece of chocolate, slow and careful in case the little boy has any doubts. 

As you’re walking back to the laundromat, you can see the entire interaction through the huge windows in the front. The look that’s on Jeno’s face as he interacts with the boy is enough to make your knees weak. It’s so soft, almost loving. 

When you step back inside, you try to be as discreet as possible, but the bell on the door alerts everyone that you’re there. The two boys look at you curiously before recognition crosses Jeno’s eyes. 

You slide him his bag of sour gummy worms, and without any hesitation, he tears the corner open and spills a few into his hand. He offers his open palm to the boy, who at this point, is giddy and glowing with this new established friendship. He happily takes the worms and nods his head very firmly, “Thank you!” 

The boy isn’t there for much longer as his grandmother finishes loading the clothing and calls him over so that they can get ready to leave. He stuffs all the worms into his mouth so that he can hold the box of detergent tablets for her. 

It isn’t long before your clothes are done in the wash so that you can dump them into the dryer. You and Jeno pass time by making fun of the music videos playing on the TVs and showing each other viral cat videos. 

If there is one thing you know about Jeno, it’s that he loves cats. He’s always making comments about them in passing, showing you cute videos, texting you that he’ll be home in 10, he’s just busy looking at the cats that are up for adoption. 

He wants one desperately, it’s just that… 

“You know there’s no room.” 

He sighs, leaning back into his chair and it squeaks. “We could, like, take it for walks to get the energy out. If anything, we can get an older, lazy cat. I think it would like the space between the window and the couch.” 

You laugh, turning your head to check the time left on the dryer. “The non-existent one?” 

He throws his head back and groans. Your eyes stay focused on the way his adam's apple bobs for a second too long. “Jeno, living in a space that small feels like a crime against myself sometimes. I would not want to put an animal through that type of pain. Hell, we’re the hamsters in the cage!” 

He chews on the inside of his cheek, giving you the stink eye, but it’s all in good fun. Deep down he knows that you’re right. 

The buzzer on the dryer goes off and catches the attention of both of you. You unload everything and dump it onto the folding table, a sigh slipping out of your mouth. 

Silently, Jeno offers to help you fold. You two split the pile of clothes in half and get to work, an awful Imagine Dragons song filling the silence. 

The entire situation isn’t quite ideal. The music is bad, the laundromat’s a little too cold, and you’d very much rather spend your time doing something else like ordering food and picking a thriller movie or challenging your roommate to a game of zombie COD. 

But that’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Doing mundane and annoying things with someone that you care about. Folding your laundry with Jeno right next to you, tackling the boring tasks in life with someone by your side. He didn’t have to come help you, but perhaps he offered because he didn’t want you to suffer by your pile of clothing alone. Yeah, that’s what it’s all about. 

It’s a little domestic. Okay, it’s painfully domestic. Everything about Jeno is- you live with him, for heaven’s sake. It’s an entire domestic fantasy playing out right before your eyes. 

At this point, you’re folding all your clothes on autopilot and you don’t even realize that the both of you are done with your piles. Jeno places every article neatly in your big drawstring bag, keeping it tidy before pulling at the string. He keeps it in his arms as he guides the both of you out to his car. 

“Let’s pick up some food, yeah? And search up some good thrillers in the car?”

Upsettingly domestic. 

When something, anything, occurs in Jeno’s life that requires him to tell another person so that he can get it off his chest, you are the first person to come to mind. How can he not think about you, when you’re the first face he sees in the morning? The one he makes dinner with, the one he discusses the houseplants with, the one he has to watch get ready in the bathroom, toothbrush in your hand as you sloppily call out to him to please remember to take out the trash. 

The two of you share a life together, you share practically everything together. Your living space, tidbits of your interactions with others, news that’s spreading around the city; your unmasked heart and soul shines through every single day. It’s so candid it could almost be romantic, yet it’s anything but that. 

Well, sometimes… 

No, Jeno doesn’t go there. But he can’t help but think… 

When something happens, you’re the person he wants to tell. The most basic and foundational characteristic of love. Sharing. It transcends the physical- of course, you do find yourselves splitting dinners and breaking the last cookie in half so that the both of you can enjoy. But it’s more than that, now. You and him break apart your own beings so that the other can understand, listen, and console. It’s love, he thinks. 

Platonic love, he quickly corrects. 

He’s been so busy thinking about it that he’s barely realized he’s been staring at the one piece of paint that’s chipping off the wall for too long. The sound of the shower water hitting the tub brings him back, and he looks to the closed bathroom door. 

He rushes to it, knuckles knocking on the wood. “Can I come in?” 

“Huh?” You practically holler. He laughs to himself, imagining your confused, scrunched up face. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Oh, yeah. Be quick because all the cold air gets in!” 

So he does just that, opening the door just a crack and trying to squeeze in his muscular form so that the air doesn’t rush in.

Jeno closes the door and leans against the bathroom counter, all the heat from the shower coddling him close. It could almost make him sleepy. 

“Taeyong wants to promote me.” 

“Huh?” You call, hands freezing in your hair as you wash it. “Are you serious? To what?” 

“Assistant Manager.” 

“Assistant Manager? Are you gonna take it?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just… I’m kind of nervous.” 

A beat of silence. He calls out your name. 

“Yeah, sorry. My face was in the water. Anyway, why? Scared an old geezer is gonna chew you out for the ‘new generation’s music’?’

He laughs. You’re lucky enough to hear it over the water. 

“It’s just a lot of responsibility, you know? Like, I’m so used to just doing what I’m told but now, it’s like, I gotta be in charge and tell the employees to get off their phones when they're on the clock. It’s betrayal, you know? How can I look Jisung in the eye and tell him that this is his first warning? I can’t do that.” 

You shut your eyes and try to stifle a laugh. It’s a laugh of endearment, though. Jeno cares so much about the people around him- even if it’s his younger coworker who works part time at the record store and barely even sees him more than three times a week. 

You shut the water off, voice clear. “Jeno. You worry a lot.” You pull back the shower curtain just a little to peek out, “Can you hand me my towel?”

He obeys, holding out the towel to the edge of the shower with his eyes closed. As soon as he feels it slip past his fingers and the sound of the shower curtain rings clink together, he opens his eyes. You’re still behind the curtain, drying off. 

“I think you should go for it. You’ll get more experience. Plus, from what you’ve told me, the record shop isn’t crazy unmanageable and unorganized. And,” You add, dragging out the ‘a’, “You’ll get a raise.” 

You’re right, he thinks, tilting his head and staring off. The shop is pretty calm, the customers are mostly older regulars and the occasional teenager in search of a Harry Styles vinyl. Plus, a raise would be nice. Really nice. 

“Did you tell Mark and Jaemin? What did they say?” 

Jeno hesitates. No, he hasn’t told them yet. You’re always the first person he wants to tell. 

“No,” He starts, honest. “I was gonna tell them right now, but I wanted to tell you first. I think I’ll follow your advice anyway.” 

Your heart stops in your chest. God, that made you feel so special. You’re at a loss for words before you feel the water drip from your hair down your back. 

“Good. Now step out ‘cuz I gotta dry off.” 

He smiles and follows your every word. He remembers not to let the cold air in, too. 

Jeno is your roommate. He is also your friend, a companion, a confidant. He’s nothing more, nothing less. 

People have eyes. They’re allowed to look. In fact, it is their god given right to let their eyes linger a little longer on someone as attractive as Lee Jeno. 

Why are you so upset? You can’t just shield him, carry a curtain around and charge a fee for people to look his way. He’s a free man. A free, good looking man. 

This party was a mistake. Watching Jeno be tonight's entertainer has planted a seed of bitterness and disappointment in your stomach that you have never felt. The bitterness is towards the situation- you’re not sure if you’re disappointed in yourself for feeling this way or for how the universe has laid out the cards. You long for something to happen. You wickedly hope for that girl to spill her drink on herself and be forced to walk away. You wickedly hope for Jeno to come to his senses and ask you if you wanna go back home and crush some random 12 year old in a shooter game. 

Come to his senses? What are you, his mentor? God forbid the man has fun for one night. He’s not even doing anything that bad. Just dancing with some girl you have never seen before, lifting his hand and caressing her jaw. He’s so unbelievable and so, so, so horrible when he gently tucks her hair behind her ear. You want to vomit. 

“You okay?” Jaemin asks, making you jump as he slips into the spot right next to you. He’s got a red cup in his hand and you hold back from snatching it and downing whatever the fuck is in it. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m kind of proud, actually. I’ve never seen Jeno interact with a woman before. Not like this, at least. I always thought he’d bring girls home every night, yet he never does.” 

Jaemin’s eyes flash with something like confusion, tenderness, sorrow. You don’t see it though, busy focused on the way Jeno leans into her and talks gently by her ear. She’s giggling and sliding her hand up his chest. You’re positive she can smell the cologne you helped him pick out earlier. 

“He’s just being courteous of you.” 

“I guess,” You say with a lazy shrug. Deep down you know you’re only trying to convince yourself that you see him and support him as a friend; strictly a friend. And you seem to play that part pretty well, because Jaemin does not question you at all. 

“I think I’m gonna head home,” You start, checking the time on your phone. Jaemin whips his head to look back at you, “Tapping out already?” 

“Yeah. I don’t really know anyone here, only came because Jeno invited me. Plus, he recently bought some new maps in COD, so, I think I wanna try those out.” 

“You sure? I think I could introduce you to someone, help you get that midterm stress off your mind.” 

You practically snort at his offer. He’s considerate, you think, but you cannot betray your own feelings. You’d be a fool to try and trick yourself into thinking a fling with some rando will make you feel better. 

Well… you’re still a fool. Yearning from afar, not doing anything about it. 

“Nah, I’m okay. Thank you, Jaem. Get home safe, okay?” 

He nods and the two of you part ways. 

You find yourself in an uber, shooting Jeno a text that says hey, i really wanna play COD so im heading home early. please be safe lol. :_)

You’re dropped off and you walk up to your apartment, trying your hardest not to wallow in your own feelings. You head straight to the bathroom to remove all your makeup and get ready for bed before pulling yourself up the stairs. 

Your mattress awaits you like it’s got its arms open. Cozy, warm, solid enough for you to cry into. 

Your home feels your pain. It’s like everything looks a little bit darker, the cream white walls seeming to be gray, the little light fixtures and hardware looking like frowny faces. The walls absorb all your feelings, reeking of longing and hope and something else that is usually paired with those two feelings. Something so captivating and large, dark and light, something so scary yet you just have to have faith in it. Something that you would rather die than confess to yourself. 

So it sits, pent up in the walls of your home. It haunts you. This stupid apartment haunts you, traces of the life you live with Jeno everywhere. You can’t hide. You can’t run to the other side of the hallway and lock yourself in the room in the very back- it’s not there. Your life and your feelings are right in front of your face, everywhere you turn, everything you touch. It stings, it burns, and god, this home will kill you. Your close and unavoidable proximity with Jeno will kill you. 

You’re so busy moping that you almost miss the sound of the door opening. It’s quiet, slow, and you bet to yourself that Jeno is trying his hardest to be kind, to not wake you up. 

You’re scared that you’ll hear the giggle of the girl, but it never comes. Just Jeno making his way around the shoebox, using the flashlight on his phone to light the way instead of switching the lights on so that he doesn’t disturb you. Curse that stupid boy. 

Jeno shuts the door to the bathroom and turns on the shower. The sound is so calming that it lulls you to sleep. 

He lets the warm water caress at his back, lets it help him relax. He replays every single thing that happened at the party. 

He regrets leaving you alone. In the back of his mind, he knew Mark and Jaemin would take good care of you, but shouldn’t he be doing that? Taking care of you. 

He’s not obligated to, of course, and he knows that if he ever mentioned that to you, you’d snicker in his face and tell him to shuddup and let loose. But he can’t. He tried and didn’t even get that far. 

Jeno got into the bedroom and onto the bed with that girl, his body slowly pushing against hers so that she could lay down. The top few buttons of his black shirt were already popped open and his mind was so foggy he almost didn’t hear his phone buzzing in his pocket. 

He felt bad, but he knew he would’ve hated himself even more if he ignored it, so he had pulled back and checked the screen. In his heart, he knew it was you. 

Luckily, you hadn’t seemed upset, but it was like guilt took him hostage as he realized you left the party without him. You got home without him, and you spent the night alone. Jeno suddenly felt so upset and so… gross. Grossed out with himself. He tossed you to the side just like that. And for what? A fling that wouldn’t fulfill his heart like you do? Yeah, no. 

“I’m sorry,” He starts, looking from his screen to the girl’s face. She’s got a look that tells him she already knows what's coming. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah,” He says automatically, then falls quiet for a beat. “Well, kind of. I have to go.” 

“It's okay,” She says gently, and it hurts even more because she's genuinely nice about it. “Get home safely. I hope everything’s alright.”

So now Jeno’s home but he’s a little too late. You’re already tucked away in bed and he wishes he would've just come back with you, play a few games and then crash. It's odd not to hear you tell him goodnight; it's become like a ritual between you two. Some nights the two of you stick together like packed sardines in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and poking fun at one another with a quiet and subtle joy in your hearts. 

Jeno’s finishes showering by the time he’s done thinking over all the details. He dries off fast, feeling slightly uncomfortable and alone. Every space in the apartment is so silent that it’s unnerving. 

Before Jeno slips past the curtain to get to his bed, he stands at the foot of the stairs, making out the shape of your sleeping form, face smushed directly in your pillow. The sight is so you that he cannot help but chuckle quietly to himself. 

He sees you there, at the top of the stairs, and for a second it feels like you're waiting for him there. Patient and resting as he navigates through how he feels before making his descent upwards. 

Quickly, he realizes he's too sleepy to be plaguing himself with these thoughts. Jeno pulls back the curtain and sinks into his bed, subconsciously falling in a position that would fit against your body so perfectly if the two of you shared a sleeping space. You feel so close and so far from him. It's the last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep. 

How do you tell someone that you want them without actually telling them? 

Your relationship with Jeno is built on something so fragile that he’s afraid to mess up, trip and let the glass shatter. You’re friends– real close friends, if he thinks about it. You share a home together that’s small enough to make him think that it certainly violates a number of human rights. You cannot go a day without seeing or speaking to each other. 

It's so sour and it's so, so sweet. Spending everyday together, reading each other, communicating in small ways that mean the most– his heart swells and gets clogged in his throat. He’s so close to you it's like your fingertips are brushing against his as you sit on opposite sides of the couch. And, if all goes well, he could unabashedly take your hand in his and spread kisses on the back of it. Even better, he could pull you right into his lap and smush at your face, kiss you there too. So many possibilities… 

Along with those possibilities comes the ones that are on the other end of the scale. He could open up (more than he already has) about his feelings and unintentionally make you uncomfortable. Oh, he would hate himself if you felt uncomfortable in your own home. Then it would really be bad, because you'd both need time and space but you practically share a goddamn bunk bed and a kitchen that feels like a toddler’s first real-life toy. It pains him more to think that you'd be unhappy than how he would feel to be rejected. 

Instead, Jeno’s feelings manifest into actions and touch. When you get up from putting on your shoes and your hair's a little astray, he’ll reach over and fix it for you, keeping his touch light and gentle. He insists on helping you button up your coats and tying a bow on the back of your dresses. When he sees that you’re especially tired, he’ll wash all the dishes even though it was your turn. Sometimes, when the apartment feels especially warm and the lighting is cozy and you feel so lethargic yet blissfully happy, you’ll tell him about your day with his thumb caressing your cheek. And sometimes, you’ll lean into the palm of his hand and he’ll keep you still. 

It’s not until the day where he finds you knocked out on the couch that you slip up. He had come home late from work, the shop buzzing with people looking for a Christmas gift for that one vinyl collector of a friend. He had told you he’d be late, but you thought you’d still have enough energy to stay up and wait for him so that the two of you could eat dinner and call it a night. 

Unfortunately, you did not have the energy. Finals had been consuming your life and now that it was finally over, you ended up knocking out on the couch like a baby, leaving the lights on and everything. Jeno smiled softly at your sleeping form, a familiar type of warmth crawling into his heart and nestling inside it. He quietly slipped off his shoes and made his way straight toward you, calling your name softly as a test. 

You didn’t wake at all. You were gone. 

It kind of makes him laugh; a laugh of adoration, not amusement. It’s one of those things that’s a little funny in its own way. 

It happens, he supposes, when your heart and life is so full of love that it has to escape somehow. In touch, in kisses, in laughter. 

For you, it escapes loud and clear- verbally. 

After Jeno decides to take a risk and lift you into his arms, you automatically curl into him, trusting him even in the depths of your sleep. He’s slow to walk up the stairs, careful to not let your head hit the wall as he makes his way upward. 

And it’s when he lays you down on your mattress tenderly, hands lightly pushing away all the hairs that fell onto your face, that you stir just a little bit. 

“Goodnight,” He whispers to you, using his body to block out the light he hadn’t turned off. A dopey little smile creeps onto your face. You’re euphorically sleepy, the feeling of slipping in and out of it feels so good. 

“Thank you,” You rasp a little, turning over. “Love you.”

Then you’re gone again, and Jeno is frozen in place at the top of the stairs, shoulders stiffening as the words swirl around in his head. 

Firstly, he’s upset he didn’t get to say it back. But the disappointment washes away quickly and he’s overcome with joy, practically buzzing as he descends down the steps to shut off all the lights and get ready for bed. He’s got a stupid smile on his face that he can’t even put away as he brushes his teeth, and if any medical professional were to see him right now, he’s surely be diagnosed with lovesickness. 

He whimsies all the way to his room, pulling back the curtain and plopping down on his bed like it’s a cloud and he’s in heaven. He falls asleep thinking of all the ways to say I love you. 

Winter break is lovely. It’s an abundance of warm drinks, wooly socks, sleeping in, and having an excuse to wear corny pajama sets. Your heart is at ease and the cold weather feels so nice when it bites at your cheeks- especially when you feel yourself grow a little warm around Jeno. 

For Jeno, it’s even better because there are a plethora of Christmas parties. 

And, usually, there’s mistletoe. 

“Alright, don’t get too excited. Close your eyes!” 

He obeys, shutting them and even bringing up his hands in front of his face so that you don’t think he’s pulling any tricks. 

You’ve got him sitting on the couch in anticipation as you dig through your shopping bags to find what’s so important. After a few moments of rustling and humming under your breath, he hears you sigh in relief. 

You hold up two sweaters in front of you, side to side. One is clearly bigger than the other. They’re thrifted and it’s very obvious that they were previously owned by elderly people; maybe they scream vintage a little too much, earth toned with eye-catching patterns like stripes and triangles running across the entire sweater. They’re only a little bit outdated, but painfully cute, and perfect for the season. 

“Okay. Open!” 

Jeno lays his eyes upon the sweaters and immediately breaks out into a smile, eyes forming crescents. Really, he doesn’t even look at them for long. His gaze lands directly on you. 

“You like ‘em?” 

“Very much,” He affirms, with his eyes still set on you. He’s not really talking about the sweaters. 

“Good! We’re wearing them at Hyuck’s party this weekend.” 

So the two of you wear the matching sweaters to Donghyuck’s party. When the both of you step in, Jaemin automatically makes a face at Jeno, an expression that silently screams Finally? but Jeno shakes his head. He doesn’t look solemn, though. In fact, his eyes are hopeful and bright as he nods his head at everything you say. 

He doesn’t budge from your side, either. 

(He wants everyone to see that you’re matching). 

It pays off because Renjun tells you both that you look like an elderly couple, to which he quickly corrects himself and says ‘duo’ instead. It’s kind of embarrassing with the way that he rushes off after, face a little red. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he’s tipsy or because he’s worried he’s crossed a boundary. If anything, his comment makes you have to hold back a smile, and from the corner of your eye, you see Jeno biting at his cheek too. 

Renjun’s flushed cheeks inspire you. “You want anything to drink?” 

Jeno contemplates for a second before shaking his head, “Nah. I’ll drive us back home.” 

But he follows you to the kitchen anyways, where it’s quieter because everyone is in the living room talking over Jingle Bell Rock. You swear you can hear Donghyuck break into laughter at some point; you can already envision his happy little glowing face nuzzling up to Mark. 

Jeno leans against the doorway to the kitchen, fingers playing with the edges of his sweater as he observes you moving around to get yourself a drink. He’s thinking about a hundred things at once, and somehow, you both calm and excite him. 

You approach him, steadily holding your glass so that nothing sloshes over and spills. “You wanna try? Just a sip.”

He nods and takes it from your hand, bringing it up to his lips for a second before he evaluates the taste. You wait expectantly, and then Jeno gives you a solid nod before looking back over his shoulder and extending his arm to place your glass on the counter. When he turns back around, his hand comes up to gently rest on your arm. He very, very carefully pulls you closer. It’s gentle, slow, and so subtle you almost don’t even realize the proximity between you two getting smaller and smaller by the centimeter. “It’s pretty good.” 

“Just pretty good?” 

“Yeah,” He replies, tone so soft and far away that you immediately realize he doesn’t really care about the drink all that much. And then you realize that he’s got these beseeching love-me eyes that make your heart twist in such a pleasant way that you know you can’t escape. 

You can’t go back to how it was before. You’ll never be your old self, coexisting with Jeno in your tiny home with no care or feeling in the world towards him. You can’t go back to the days of trying to sneak past him, trying to go through the days without making eye contact and conversation. You won’t even be able to go back to the days where you merely saw him as a friend, a casual buddy that you’re glad you have a good dynamic with because you happen to share a home together. You can’t ignore how you feel, what you feel. It’s so heavy and it lingers in the air between you two now. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Look,” He nearly whispers, gesturing towards the ceiling with his chin. 

Mistletoe hangs at the doorway, green and white with a red ribbon adorning the stems. It’s so predictable and awful and overall so corny that you can’t help but laugh. Your tongue pokes at your cheek as your eyes trail from the plant back down to Jeno, who looks at you expectantly. He’s mindful enough to leave enough space for you to make a getaway if you want to. 

“Well,” You start, though it sounds more like a question, prompting Jeno to lean into you. 

He dips down and slots his lips against yours, pulling a wanton sigh out from you. You’re quick to have your hands on him, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sweater and you swear you can feel him smiling within the kiss. It’s almost enough to make you pull back so you can see the look on his face, but he holds you in place, fingers softly trailing through your hair. He hums contently, the deep sound of it making the tips of your ears warm. 

Your hands travel, sliding up his chest, and the two of you break apart before you end up devouring one another at the doorway of Donghyuck’s kitchen. 

Jeno smiles down at you as I’ll Be Home For Christmas starts playing. 

You’re a little nervous, the fear that comes with love pestering you at the back of your mind. You’re scared this’ll be a big unspeakable thing, a thing you’ll have to avoid in the house with Jeno. A thing that’ll never happen again, a thing to blame on the tiny sip of the drink he had and the consequences of spotting mistletoe. 

But Jeno’s eyes ask you to trust him, that he wants this just as much as you do. Perhaps this can be a reoccurring thing, except you don’t need mistletoe or drinks. You can do this in the comfort of your own home, when he gets home from work, after you both finish brushing your teeth, when you’re both making breakfast, or maybe in bed right after you wake up. 

You dive in again, hands sliding farther up till your fingers tousle through his hair, thumbs brushing against his ears. It tickles him a little, body reacting and caving into you a bit more, his hands cupping your cheeks. You tip your head back just the slightest and he follows, looming over you. He looms over you in a way that is so warm and loving and consuming - I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. 

Yes, he’s here. Holding you tenderly, your bodies shaped so nicely against one another at last. You’re no longer sitting on opposite ends of the couch, looking at each other from the top and bottom of the stairs, eyes lingering as soon as someone turns away. He’s touching you, and this time you don’t have to shy away or cough and he doesn’t have to play it off as a mistake, a mindless brush of skin that doesn’t mean anything. No, it means everything now. 

[deliberatemisspelling]

Here's The Thing.

It's not that Stiles rejected Derek. It never got that far. Derek never SAID anything. He didn't have the right to and Stiles was getting out. Derek would never have asked him to stay, never would have asked him to come home, never would have presumed to show up in Stiles life after he escaped.

But he racked up a lot of favors on the road with Braeden, a lot of "you saved my life and my family" IOUs. And there's a lot of magic out there, in the universe. So there's a mage, or a coven, or a witch, or a wizard, out there that Derek hauled out of the proverbial fire, who took one look at Derek Hale and thought "This boy needs a family." And then gave him one, the one that existed only in the most secret parts of Derek's heart.

And you can't be out on the road vanquishing evil with a baby, even a magical werewolf baby, especially when he's half the boy you never said a word to about how you loved him, the only part of him you have left other than his piece of shit jeep.

So Derek goes home. And he gives Eli a life, and a relationship with his Grandpa, and he rebuilds the jeep because he can't not, and he never says anything.

And then he does what he always does, he sacrifices himself for people that don't deserve it and he dies.

And Stiles will be so pissed when he finds out (because he'll find out. It's Stiles, there's no hiding from him that Derek Hale is dead, or that Derek raised a boy that looks just like him, or that Derek rebuilt his jeep, or that Derek loved him and never SAID anything) And Stiles will do what he does, which is tear the world apart to rescue the people he loves.

[wrightingdungeon]

SDV Bachelors reactions to birthday gifts

Forgive the rust last time i made one of these was 2017/18. Coming out of a “retirement”

Alex: You had already helped him build the man cave at the saloon, He had Gus and Emily help him confess with a beautiful dinner, now it was Alex’s birthday, and truth be told you had NOTHING. You had been focusing on the Luau and all your time and energy went into that. Walking into the kitchen to make breakfast and think, you saw it, His mother's music box proudly on the fireplace mantle. You would never touch the box due it how it had begun to age, but you did remember the song. Alex woke up to an empty bed and an empty home. Getting up he looked around for you. “Baby?” He saw you had been out because there were ingredients on the counter, but it's like you just vanished. Walking outside to see if you had gone out to get something from the farm he saw it empty, shrugging and getting ready he went about his day, knowing you would pop up. He was watering the crops and taking a break every now and again to spray the dog, your dog loved biting the water so much, it reminded him of when Dusty was a puppy. “Alex!” He heard you yell out, turning to look he smiled seeing you walk over to him, hiding something? “What is that baby?” He asked turning off the water. “I wanted to get you something, but I didn't know what.” He watched as you pulled out a pretty little box. “I had Robin and Clint's rush make it….I hope you like it.” He took the box and looked at it noticing it looked like his music box, winding the key and opening it, tears flooded his eyes, it was his music box! But the music was clearer, it wasn't dulled with age. “Farmer…” Looking at you tears running down his face he grabbed you into a hug. “I don't deserve you.”

Elliot: What do you get a person who's a living romance novel protagonist? That question racked your brain over and over, flowers? Not enough… More Ink? Not good enough…What do you get for Elliot? Looking over at his study your eyes flashed with an idea. He wasn't able to bring his piano with him when he moved in with you. Robin had no idea how to build a piano so now you are stuck biting your nails that Elliot's new piano won't be there on time for his birthday, stupid train. On his birthday it was not delivered before he woke up so plan B was in order. You spend the whole day pampering him, just caught lobster, a new duck feather pillow you definitely did not panic make two days ago, and all sorts of colored inks that you now owe Emily a few favors for. As you both were sitting at the table eating a Cappuccino Mousse Cake, you heard a loud knock at the door. “Who at this hour?” Elliot asked going to stand. “I got it, birthday boy.” Watching him sit with a smile you opened the door and peeked outside seeing the piano on dollys ready to be moved in. Looking out into the distance seeing Linus, Robin, and Willy running off you smiled making a note to pay them back for the late-night rush delivery. “Elliot, come here actually. I have one more gift.” You leaned back and opened the door wide so he could see the shiny new piano. “Oh my…My Love…I” It was the first time you had seen the smooth talker voiceless. “You truly are sent from the heavens…”

Harvey: Looking out the bus window Harvey sighed, he rarely left Pelican Town, but you had insisted he shut down the practice for a day or two, reassuring if something happened Maru knew almost as much as he did and could hold the town over for a few days. “Can I ask where we are going now?” He asked turning back to look at you. “Nope.” was all you said as you flipped a page in your book. “At least a city or the bus stop's name?” He asked blinking his eyes at you knowing he might be able to sweeten you up, looking up from your book with a small smirk on your lips all you said was “Z” Oh you were driving him crazy, he loved it, but he wanted to know! He had loved surprising you with the Hot Air Balloon Ride so this was probably just payback. An hour later Pam pulled into Zuzu City’s bus station and looked back. “I’ll see you in three days.” Your first day was just walking around looking at shops, a museum, going out to a nice dinner. “You know Farmer, this is a nice trip. Thank you for this gift.” He tilted his head confused hearing you giggle. “Oh, Harvey wait till tomorrow.” He had no idea that you had this planned, He gripped your hand tight and looked up swearing he could touch the bottom of the plane if he just reached up. “You Like your gift?” He heard you call over the roar of all the airplane engines. An airshow, you had brought him to the Zuzu city airfield to watch an air show. “Way better than the balloon….” He said stuck in child-like wonder, only to be pulled out of it by you kissing him. “Now I’d agree better than the balloon.”

Sam: You and Sam lived together now, but he hadn't seen you in a few days, and when he did you were busy hauling wood, glass, and other stuff up to Robins, something to do with the basement. He knew you were a busy Farmer, but he didn't think you were so busy you couldn't give him a kiss or a hug. He was sitting on the porch strumming his guitar, trying to figure out if he had said something? Did something? Forgot your Birthday! Wait no his birthday was coming up….His Birthday was coming up. He sat up and smiled thinking he figured it out, it had to be his birthday, it was silly, but he began to follow you around. All he saw was you cutting trees, shearing sheep, and bringing it to Robin. After a few days of playing spy and starting to wonder what was happening with Robin and your basement. One day he came home and noticed all his band equipment was gone, his heart was crushed, was he wrong about everything. “Sam? Is that you?” He heard you call from the basement. “Baby where are my drums…” He whines softly while making his way to you. “Come down here…I actually need your help…” Making his way down his heart exploded, there on the other side of the basement was a recording booth, an actual recording booth, you were sitting in the middle of his drum set all sprawled out. “I tried to set it up like you showed me….but I think I’m doing it wrong…” All Sam could do was hug you with tears in his eyes. “For me?” His head was buried in your shoulder, and you could feel the tears falling. “Sam baby, I-I’m sorry I'll get it fi-” He kissed you before you could finish. “I love you so much, Farmer.”

Sebastian: Your brain hurts staring at the screen, tabs upon tabs open. Lore about goblins, elves, healers, tanks, balancing encounters, and how to create a functioning story. Solarion Chronicles was so fun when Sebastion and Sam helped you with it, but now you are starting to think your mind will explode if you try to understand how to keep initiative in order. It paid off though a month later on Sebastian’s Birthday you had the home decked out, Sam helped you make food and drinks that are in Solarion Chronicles, and Abigail showed up for Sebastian and helped set up the map. Hearing Sebastian’s key in the door the three of you sprinted to your hiding spots, you pulled out a laser pointer and got your cat to help turn off the main light. “I’m back…You home baby?” He called out placing his helmet on the table next to the door and flicking on the light. “SURPRISE!” The three of you hopped out scaring Sebation a bit. “Holy Yoba!!! What's happ-” His voice trailed off looking around the house before his eyes landed on you three sitting around the coffee table, You behind the DM screen. “Roll for initiative, Sebby.” He smiled as he ran and hopped over the back of the couch landing next to Sam and Abigail with a soft comfy bounce, the three amigos ready for battle once again.

Shane: Shane was on the edge of the couch seat watching the Tunnelers play, it was a recording, but he loves Gridball and you loved seeing him happy. Looking over at him ready to set your plan into action, first things first get him to go to the kitchen and get “Napkins”. Reaching over to Shane to grab a slice of pizza, you ‘accidentally’ let it fall onto his shorts, you did the laundry anyway so fine with you. “Oop sorry Honey…” grabbing the remote pausing the game and pointing to the kitchen. “I ran out of paper towels but there are napkins in the top drawer, by the sink.” You said trying hard to keep an ‘I sowwy’ puppy face on. “It's alright, I would have done it if you hadn't.” He joked getting up and tossing the lost pizza towards the doggo. A grinch-like smirk crawled onto your face hearing the drawer open. “Baby there's no napkins just… Tickets?” He looked over at you like you had just told him to put shoes on his head. “Really? What kind of tickets~?” You asked letting him see your smirk. “What kind? Uhh” He looked at the tickets moving them a bit to focus his eyes. “They are….There Tunnelers Tickets!?!?” He was looking back and forth from ticket to you, ticket, you, ticket “Hold up this is next month!!?!” Back to you. “Really!! How did those get there!!” Giggles were pouring out of you now. “Why? What did I do?” He asked looking up at you. “One it's your birthday, two you have been a great help on the farm since Joja left.” Shane came back over to you pressing you into the couch and hugging you close and tight. “How did I get so lucky.”

[jumbojazzcats93]

Continuously Frayed - Ghost

Summary - Little interactions that fluster Ghost and you.

Tags/Warnings - Art by circeisms on Pintrest, Banners by @/saradika-graphics, MDNI 18+, smut, flirting, sexual tension, implied masturbation, cursing, depictions of combat, grappling, unwarranted anger/irritation, domination @glossysoap @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @quietlyignoringyou

A/N - Personally, I feel like it's so likely that any woman doing field work on the task force has a dominant side. Loves having power over men and babygirling them. I'll also post the final part separately and link it.

Y/N could hear his slow steps before he came through the door. She was just coming off night shift and still struggled sleeping at the right times.

Ghost had just woken up with a tight feeling in his chest and throat, autopiloting to the bright lights of the barracks kitchen. He had his head down, eyes squinted and a hand partly blocking his eyes from the light as he shuffled in. Y/N was leaning against the counter just watching him. She internally cooed with her palm on her chin, slightly covering her mouth to hide a small smile and giggle.

He walked right up to where she was before her feet came into his narrowed line of sight. Shooting his head up, he stared wide eyed at her heavy eyes and enticing expression. "Good morning, Simon." She muttered through her hand. He grunted in response. He was still so warm from sleep that Y/N could feel it coming off of him at this distance. He looked so vulnerable right now; maliable almost. It made her want to take advantage of his seemingly sleepy compliance. Ghost took a sluggish step back and rubbed his face, pressing his palm into his eyes to help wake them up.

"Simon?" "Hhm?" "Would you do me a favor, big boy?" A momentary pause from him. He could do nothing as he felt those words settle hotly in his abdomen, "fuck..." he whispered, peeking over his hand into her eyes, "Yeah?" "Would you help me out? I was going to get a little breakfast bar, but it's a bit out of my reach. Since you're here... why don't you grab it for me?" He glanced up and behind her to what she was talking about and then back at her. She isn't short, but she still looked up at him through her lashes.

Y/N had no intention of moving, she wanted to him to get close. Work around her. Wanted to be in his way. He groaned softly to himself as he nodded and pulled his hand from his face. He wasn't wearing his mask and Y/N could see his skin still flushed warm from sleep. He waited only a moment for her to move before understanding she had no intention of doing so and just reached around easily to grab it. She didn't flinch or shy away, looking up at him even as his chest practically touched her chin. His stomach was fluttering and skin burning under her stare, but he looked down at her as he handed her the snack.

She gave a cocky, mischievous smile and brushed her fingers over his as she plucked her little breakfast bar from his hand, looking him up and down briefly.

"You're such a sweet boy, Si." She lilted

Simon's stomach twisted and he swallowed thickly as his cock throbbed at her praise. He nodded curtly. She liked the wary expression he had on his face as she walked out and headed for the gym. He turned just in time to see her hair swish behind her as she walked out. He struggled to think of what he came in to grab when he suddenly felt the cooling precum on his sweatpants. Letting out a whimper he covered his eyes and leaned against the counter where Y/N was just a few seconds ago.

Regardless of how tight the squad is, Ghost is almost convinced she can't stand him lately. That he must've done something to piss her off with how terse she's been with him. And because half way during the workout this time, Y/N suddenly grabs her shit mumbling, "I can not fucking deal with y'all right now.", before moving to a rack on the other side of the weight room. Soap and gaz choke back laughter because its so obvious to THEM that she's got a crush on Ghost and doesnt know how to deal with it. Blown out pupils, lingering stares and flushed skin; sweating when they've barely even started. But she's so good at making sure HE never catches her acting out.

Y/N is practically killing herself over there now, doubling her reps to get any of the nervous, aroused energy out of her system. She's trembling with the energy of it. She cant get the image of Ghost's print in his shorts or the pump in his arms from doing chest out of her mind. He's sweating and his muscles are so much more defined and the testosterone boost is making his- Y/N sucks in a sharp breathe and decides she needs to go for more weight. She can NOT sit and spiral like this in public.

Meanwhile Ghost keeps glancing at her between sets and worrying she's pushing more weight than she should without a spot so he hesitantly makes his way to her rack while she benches and decides to silently spot for her. When his hands come into view and Y/N trails her gaze backwards to look at his face, she can see the print of his cock in his shorts again and in the middle of letting out a surprised huff of air, she accidentally moans.

He notices her struggling to re-rack the bar and grabs it, slotting it into place allowing her to shoot up with a grumbled, "Jesus fucking christ". She's fanning herself. Is this guy trying to kill her? Is there gonna be a wet spot on the bench when she stands up? Fuck it, she needs to get away from him. She leans forwards to grab her things again and jumps when Ghost slaps his hands onto her shoulders, squeezing them and giving her a little shake. "You're gonna ruin yourself if you try that shit again without a spotter, Y/N. Now get up, you're gonna spot me."

Y/N can hear soap bark a laugh and Gaz tell him to shut up as she looks back at Ghost in false outrage. He begins to take his hands from her shoulders in an attempt to start his set, but she grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down 2 inches away from her face. His eyes are wide, he's caught completely off guard, "Wha-" " Riley. If I have to spot you, i'm gonna be sitting on your fucking face while I do it."

The man is stunned; he's wearing just a regular face mask and knows his ears and neck are starting to turn pink. He swallows thickly and feels heat immediately flash through his body. He can feel his cock come to life as she gently shoves him back and grabs her things from the floor. Y/N spares him one fevered glance and feels her whole body pulse as she sees his wide, confused doe eyes. She takes off towards the women's locker room knowing that, thankfully, no one was ever in the sauna.

Her head swam and her vision lagged as she rolled on to her side and haggardly pushed herself up to her knees. Sweat and blood dripped from her lips and off of her nose. That fuck must've broken it. She blinked rapidly and trailed her gaze to him, trying to focus her vision. He was pulling his knife out of her dead attackers throat, and as her vision cleared she could see blood splattered all across his mask and exposed skin. Ghost stepped forward and reached out to meet her as she pushed herself up and towards him on unsteady legs. "Fuck, Lt...", y/n rasped out. "Fucking had that guy." She muttered in her best attempt at salvaging her pride. He held her up and grabbed her by the chin, moving her head around and carefully looking for anything worse than the obvious injuries. "You know-" She slurred, momentarily averting her gaze while gently blotting at her split lip, "-being covered in blood and dirt is a real good look on you." Their gazes met in a flash. "Quit talking Y/n." He averted his eyes, "You look like shit right now." He quipped.

His throat was tight from anxiety and rage. That guy almost had her. She knew it. She knew he knew it. Her grip on his vest tightened so much the fabric creaked under the tension. "Lt, can you take my helmet off?" A weary smile shifted her features, "I would do it myself, but... I think the only reason I'm still standing is because i'm holding onto you..." He swallowed and quickly scanned the area for any more threats. Their position was certainly compromised, but in her current state, relocating would be a real struggle for y/n. Looking back at her, they locked eyes. He shifted his gaze slightly down to the helmet strap he began fiddling with, carefully taking it off. She wouldn't stop looking at him. It was making him feel hot under all his gear. She lolled her head forward and leaned it onto his vest. "Thank you... Thank you so much for having my back all the time." Simon clenched his jaw and stayed silent. He wondered if she could feel or hear his heart beating. He could feel sweat beginning to form on his back and neck.

He carefully felt around her scalp for any abrasions. Stupid girl had too much confidence in him... HAS too much confidence in him. He patted her head and smoothed down her hair once he realized there were no other hidden head injuries. "You're the best partner i've ever had, Riley." She mumbles into his Kevlar. He furrowed his brows. Fuck, she had to have a head injury. She was never like this. He lifted her face and looked down at her, but the look in her eyes when she looked up at him made his chest tighten up and his face flush. He immediately tucked her head back into his chest. "Alright...", he took a deep breath, missing the weak smile that she couldn't bite back. "Enough of that. Let's sit you back down." He grumbled.

~~~~

"Can't always keep relying on me for everything, sergeant." Ghost had quipped at y/n after escorting her from the small clinic back at base. He was joking, but they both knew he was referring to their private interaction during the mission. Recovered from the shock and delirium of her attack, y/n felt the full brunt of the exposure that came with having spilled such personally held feelings. Ghost could see her turning red and smiled a bit. Knowing her pride was flaring and embarrasment was probably clawing at the inside of her skin, he looked away to give her a shred of respite. "Well, Sir...", she stopped in her tracks. "Maybe you'll just have to spend some time refreshing my training than, yeah?" Her face was still red and her eyes betrayed her frustration and embarrassment at his joke, but.... the coy smirk on her face gave him all the information he needed to interpret what her words meant. Her hand met his forearm with a coaxing squeeze as she stepped a little closer and lowly stated, "Gotta ensure I'm up to your standards." She held his gaze. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint you, Sir." Her hand slid from his arm as she walked off. Simon took a deep breath, lungs shuddering and tight muscles twitching. He clenched his fists as he watched her leave before immediately beelining for his office. The click of the office lock turning echoed in the empty hallway.

You'd gotten on his last nerve.

"Tomorrow, you and I are gonna hit the mats for that retraining you so boldly suggested on Friday."

Is what Ghost had leaned in to quietly growl, but that was after hours of arguing and dealing with your shitty mood during field training. Watching you walk into the combatives gym now in those spandex pants... he suddenly felt like he had bitten off more than he could chew. It made him incredibly antsy knowing it would just be the two of you alone the whole afternoon. Being the combatives instructor and, therefore, the gyms keyholder, no one could come in here unless they had scheduled some time with Ghost himself. It was something he had originally hoped would unnerve you.

Alas...

You on the otherhand were buzzing with excitement at the idea of grapling with your fellow Lieutenant. Being so close to him, hearing his little huffs and grunts, getting pinned by him, pinning him. You'd been such a pain in each other's ass during the field that you knew this would also be a mental attempt on both your parts to subjugate the other, but that wasnt what you were excited about... You hadn't spoken since your last argument in the HMMWV on the way back yesterday and the tension was felt fresh as you caught his stare. You and Ghost had never sparred before because you just... didn't have to. Now it seems, for the first time in two years, you were both sizing each other up as you stepped onto the mat one at a time.

It took an hour of getting your ass handed to you before you saw the best opening you could've asked for; you got him on his back in a mount. He'd been steadily losing stamina and now he was moving just a bit too slow to keep you at bay. A surge of elation ran through your chest. You shoved his right arm to the floor and dragged it up as you slipped your right arm around his neck, straightening it out to shift him onto his side. He was too big for just one hand to hold him in place so you planted your left fist next to your right one and shoved your right knee under his head to trap it between your fist and knee. You grabbed your other ankle and wrapped your leg around his neck, leaning forward. "Tap out, Riley." You grunted out between harsh breaths and a wild grin, "Your arms are too big for your own good, you git." You chuckled breathlessly, but secretly hoped he was out of stamina. You knew he was too big for you to keep holding if he tried hard enough to escape.

Ghost's grunts turn into soft huffs after a few seconds and you feel him reluctantly tap your thigh twice. If it wasn't for your pride you would've slumped onto the floor, but instead you relax your muscles and ease your grip on him. He wiggles a little bit before just opting to lay on his back; still under you and wrapped up between your legs. He's watching you, panting and with blown out pupils, as you sit up straight again and look down at him. Oh fuck he looks good... your knees are on either side of his head and he licks his lips as he brings his hands up to rest on the outside of your thighs. There was frustration in his low lidded eyes, but those eyes... Your pussy clenches at the sight and you don't even worry if he can feel it before you're saying, "You look real cute down there, Simon." The hands on your thighs twitch, "It's a real good look..." In the time it takes to blink, you're on your back looking up at Ghost. He says nothing. His face is red as he looms over you, but just as quickly as he flipped you, he's standing up and grumbling about needing a 5 minute break.

You're still laying on your back as you hear the gym door swing open and slam shut.

[strniohoeee]

Not Mine

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: A glimpse into the rise and downfall of Y/N’s relationship. Torn between wanting to move on with her life, but also wanting to relive the past. Constantly struggling, but will she figure it out in the end?🫂

Warnings⚠️: None really just get your tissue boxes ready😔. This one’s longggg too LOLLL

Song for the imagine: Strange- Celeste

Isn’t it strange

How people can change

From strangers to friends

Friends into lovers

And strangers again?

Day 374

Another day slipping from my fingers. My breathing shallow as my eyes blinked slowly. Staring out my bedroom window as the rain trickled down the glass offering me a reflection of who I hated.

I’d like to think I’m numb to the feeling at this point, but everytime I hear his name, or see his face my chest physically hurts. Some sick and twisted part of me indulged in this feeling. I wanted to feel pain. I thrived off of it. I mean it makes us stronger in the end doesn’t it?

200 days pondering. I’ve spent 200 days trying to scoop my life together. When you’re left with no true explanation your mind tends to go overboard. Filling the cracks with reasons and excuses that you were never given.

He wasn’t mine, and I was so blind to it. Trying to fix someone who so badly didn’t care. Too blind by infatuation to see how he truly felt.

Day 180

“I just don’t understand why” I stated staring down at my empty cup

“You can’t sit here and try to figure out someone who was never even open to you fully in the first place” my friend said to me

“I mean I know, but why give me this false hope. Make it seem like you saw a future with me. When he didn’t” I said swallowing thickly

“It’s been 6 days, do not beat yourself up over it okay? You’re killing yourself trying to rack your brain looking for the whys?” She said caressing my arm

“ I reached out to him yesterday” I said sniffling

“And?” She asked looking at me with a soft smile

“He said he couldn’t see me this weekend, but maybe another time” I replied breaking down

“Please don’t cry okay, you’re going to be okay” she said pulling me and hugging me

Day 374

I got up from my chair and walked out to my living room. I inhaled a shaky breath as I looked around the dimly lit room. My eyes landed on my coffee table. I trembled at the sight of the Polaroids of us littered along the mahogany wood, the vase he got me with nothing in it, and the books he purchased for me.

I started to breathe heavily and my hands began to shake.

“I HATE YOU” I screamed, shoving everything off the table with my fists. Breaking down as I heard the glass shatter and the books tumble down

“I hate your stupid fuck boy hair cut, I hate your cold blue eyes, I hate your stupid dry skin and your cracked lips, I hate your ugly smile….I HATE YOU” I screamed the last part as I banged my fists on the table

Dry heaving from the panic attack I was putting myself through.

Day 1

My eyes browsed the pastry display as I waited in line. These all looked so good, and it was hard to pick just one, but finally my eyes landed on the last heart shaped cookie on the rack

“Next!” I heard someone yell out, my eyes darting their way

“Good morning” I said offering a smile

“Good morning! What can I get for you today” the older woman said smiling at me

“May I have a small hot latte, and the heart shaped cookie right there” I said pointing over to the glass

“Sure thing honey” she said ringing me up

After paying she turned around and began to make my latte while I waited.

As I waited I felt a presence next to me, so I looked over locking eyes with a pair of blue ones. I offered him a smile and he returned the favor

“One latte and one heart cookie” the woman said handing me my stuff

“Thank you” I said grabbing my stuff and smiling at her

“Have a good day” she said

“You too” I replied and began to walk away, nodding my head at the guy who was next to me

I left the cafe and walked to the bookstore down the road. I was browsing around when I decided to walk into the horror aisle

I was looking at some books, mindlessly walking sideways when I bumped into someone.

“Oh sorry” I said looking up, and meeting those same blue eyes

“You’re good” he said smiling at me

“I was walking while looking at the books” I said looking over at the shelves

“You’re heart shaped cookie girl” he said pointing at me

“That would be me” I said laughing

“Those are my favorite, and you got the last one” he said fake pouting

“Would you like it?” I asked him offering him the bag

“Oh no no, thank you though” he said with his hand on his chest

“So you like horror too?” I asked him

“Uhhh no” he said laughing at bit

“Well then I think you’re in the wrong aisle” I said giggling

“I actually don’t read” he said putting his hands in his pockets

“Then why are you at a bookstore?” I asked tilting my head

“Well I like to look at the covers, I’m more of a visual type of guy” he replied

“Ahhh makes sense” I said nodding my head

“But uh don’t let me stop you from looking” he said stepping away from the shelf

I nodded at him and began to look at some books. My eyes landed on a Stephen King book, and I grabbed it immediately

“I’m going to have a seat at those tables and read this book a bit, you can join if you’d like” I said looking over at the boy

“I wouldn’t want to infiltrate” he said back

“Oh no never, join me” I stated smiling at him

We sat at the table, and I took the cookie out of the bag breaking it in half.

“Have half” I said looking up at him

“No don’t worry” he said nodding at me

“Please I insist” I said handing him the cookie

Finally he obliged and began to eat it. We sat chatting for a while about random stuff. When suddenly my phone rang, and I realized I was late to meeting up with my friend

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, but I’m actually supposed to be somewhere right now and I’m totally late” I said scooting back from the chair

“Oh no worries” he said standing up as well

“It was nice talking to you…” I said looking at him

“Matthew, but I go by Matt” he said sticking his hand out

“Well Matt it was nice talking to you, I’m Y/N” I said shaking his hand

“It was great talking to you too” he said smiling at me

“Here let me give you my number. I’d like to talk again” I said nervously

“Yeah sure” he said taking his phone out

After we exchanged numbers I went on with my day

Day 5

Matt and I had met for dinner to catch up. I was enjoying my time with him. He was truly a cool person to hang around, and I slowly felt myself looking for him in my day to day interactions.

“So Matt what brings you to LA” I said looking up at him

“Well I just moved here with my brothers. We’re from Boston and we came here for our jobs” he said

“Ohhh nice what do you do?” I asked taking a sip of my drink

“Well we’re social media influencers” he said laughing a bit

“Oh that’s nice” I said smiling at him

He had shown me their pages and what they do, and I found it fascinating. They were also pretty famous might I add. I felt special hanging out with him, not going to lie.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked him

“No” he replied

“Is it hard because you go between LA and Boston?” I asked

“No I just prefer to be alone” he said chuckling

“Ahhh I see” I said nodding my head

“I just don’t believe in the whole love and soulmate stuff” he replied

“No? How come” I asked him

“I mean what even is love you know? People just throw that word around, and it just ends up hurting people. I like to keep my peace and I like to be single. Less problems” he said

“That’s true” I said nodding my head

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked

“Oh no, but I do believe in love and soulmates. I just haven’t found mine” I said laughing

Matt nodded his head and we continued to eat. The rest of the night was amazing, sharing our philosophies on different topics and truly enjoying each others companies

Day 30

Matt and I had been hanging out pretty much everyday, and I truly enjoyed it. Of course I had my own friends, but he was a breath of fresh air.

The only other issue was that I began to have feelings towards him. I tried not to because I know he didn’t believe in love or girlfriends. But he made it hard when he was exactly what I looked for in a man

“You know I enjoy this a lot” he said as we sat on a bench eating ice cream

“Yeah? Me too” I said looking over at him

“It’s nice to just get out with you and have a good time I like it” he said eating his ice cream

“I like it too” I replied

“And I like you too” he said shrugging his shoulders

“I like you too Matt” I replied looking over at him again

That night Matt had walked me home since I wasn’t too far from the ice cream shop.

“Well this is me” I said pointing to the building

“Thank you for coming out tonight” he said

“Thank you for inviting me I had a blast” I said

“Well I’ll let you go now” he said opening his arms for a hug

I hugged Matt and in that moment I felt like my dreams were slowly becoming a reality.

When we pulled away we stopped and stared at one for a moment. Our eyes searched for an answer when suddenly he leaned down and kissed me.

Our lips locked in such a beautiful kiss.

That night when we parted ways my heart thumped with adrenaline. My mind racing with all the possibilities of what we could be.

Day 50

“This view is amazing” Matt said looking at the city line beneath us

“Isn’t it? I come up here when I want to think and clear my mind, but it’s just so beautiful I had to bring you” I said

“There’s not many people here” he replied looking around

“Well yeah, it’s a secret spot” I said smiling at him

“You took me to your secret spot? Am I that special?” He asked

“I guess so” I said biting my bottom lip

He came up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist as he leaned his head on my shoulder. Swaying us side to side slowly.

“When I want to clear my mind I got to this small beach that not many people know about in Boston. It’s actually a place I discovered when my first girlfriend broke up with me. I was so hurt and angry that I just kept driving and landed there” he said looking at the skyline

“I’ve never told anyone that” he whispered

My heart fluttered at this. Being able to break down his walls to get him to tell me more about himself made me warm inside. I think I was changing him….

“I thought you didn’t believe in love?” I said in a whisper

“Well after her I don’t. She completely destroyed me, and I vouched to never give my heart to anyone again” he replied looking at me

“And what about me?” I said laughing

“You’re different” he said tapping my chin with his thumb

Day 63

Matt and I had just had sex for the first time. I mean it was amazing he was so careful with me like I was a dainty feather. He took his time, caressing my every inch, kissing all my insecurities away. He made me feel loved.

My mind moved as we laid in his bed, the sheets keeping us tangled together. The sunlight kissing his skin as he laid on my chest lightly snoring.

His right hand gently placed on my torso as my right hand raked through his hair. Massaging his scalp and occasionally running down his back as the goosebumps rose on his skin.

A smile growing on my face as Matt laid in my arms. My mind playing all our possibilities repeatedly. Matt made me the happiest girl in the world, and I didn’t even know if he realized how special this made me feel

Day 97

My mind began to race as insecurities began to cloud my mind. We’ve been seeing each other for well over two months now, and I wasn’t sure what we were?

I paced around my living room as Matt sat on the couch watching me.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He asked me, causing me to stop in my tracks

“What….what are we?” I asked looking at him

“What do you mean?” He asked

“I mean us Matt. Were sleeping together, going on dates sending each other gifts, but you haven’t said I was your girlfriend” I replied

“I liked you Y/N a lot, and who cares about labels okay? I want to be with you and that’s all” he said

“I guess…I guess you’re right” I said nodding at him

Day 132

I slammed the door behind me as I stomped into my kitchen throwing my stuff down. I grabbed a bottle of water and began to drink it

“What's the issue now?” Matt asked throwing his hands up in defense

“The issue? Matt some girl was practically throwing herself on you, and you didn’t do a single thing, but when I tell her to back off I’m the problem” I said walking over to him

“Well I can handle my own. I told her I wasn’t interested, and the way you acted was embarrassing” he said

“Matt this happens all the time, and I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but I’ve had enough of this shit happening” I said shoving past him

“It’s not that serious okay” he said

“You know what? It is serious Matthew. I don’t get this whole casual thing. I want to be your girlfriend. You don’t take me on dates, buy me flowers and have sex with me and say you want this to be casual and just a friends with benefit type of thing. FRIENDS DONT DO THIS” I said raising my voice

“I don’t know what you expect from me. I’ve made this clear from the beginning” he said sighing

“Get out….JUST GET THE FUCK OUT” I yelled opening the front door

Matt left and I slammed the door behind him. Falling down and breaking down on the ground. Why was he being so cruel to me? I didn't get it.

Day 135

I hadn’t spoken to Matt in 3 days, and it was truly bothering me. I prayed he would call or, or show up at my door, but I was disappointed when I got nothing.

I paced my living room anxious and biting my nails contemplating if I should head over to Matt’s house.

After some more bantering with myself I opened my front door to walk out, when I saw Matt getting ready to knock on my door.

“I…what are you doing here?” I asked him

“I came here to say sorry” he said his head hung low

“It’s okay Matt. I just need you to tell me that we aren’t just friends” I said as I moved out the way to let him walk in

He slowly began to walk in without saying a word when I stopped him

“Please” I said in a whisper

“I can’t give you that because it’s not the truth. I’ve made it clear from the beginning I don’t do love. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want” he said looking at me

Like an idiot I ignored his statement and let him into my house. I swore up and down I could change his mind and make him see that we were meant to be together.

Day 171

Matt and I went bowling which was his favorite thing to do, but the whole time it was like his mind was elsewhere.

“I got a strike babyyyy” I said doing a dance that he loved seeing me do

“Nice” he said offering me a half smile

“What’s wrong?” I asked sitting down next to him

“Nothings wrong” he said looking over at me

“I can tell by your demeanor, are you okay?” I asked again reading his face for an answer

“I’m just tired is all” he said

“We can leave, we can get something to eat or head back to my house” I said smiling at him

“I think…I think I’m going to call it a night” he said standing up

“Oh okay” I said also standing up

We closed our lane and headed outside. He waited for a Uber while my house was two blocks down.

“I’ll uh I’ll see you in a few days” he said nodding at me

“Umm yeah sure” I said bluntly

He kissed me on the cheek as his Uber pulled up. He got in without saying anything else, and didnt even look at me as it drove away.

I walked back home that night confused, hurt and angry. Why was he being this way with me?

Day 174

Matt had asked me to meet him at the cafe we first met around 12. I had gotten there around 12:05, and met him at a table in the back

“Hi” I said sitting down

“Hi” he said staring at me

“Sooo what’s up” I said getting nervous

“I think we should part ways” he said swallowing thickly

“What?” I said as my brows furrowed

“I mean we’re just not meant to be. We fight all the time now and I find no joy in what we do” he said blinking

“I mean couples fight all the time right? This is normal we just have to learn to talk it out” I said reaching out to grab his hand

“The thing is I don’t like who I force myself to be around you. What we had was great, but I’m not ready for a relationship and I can’t give you what you want” he stated

“But…but we can work this out. We can find a middle ground” I said fighting for my life

“No Y/N….we’re over” he stated

I looked at him and blinked. When I saw how serious he was I got up from the table and walked away.

I looked back and prayed he’d be lookin for me, but he wasn’t. He didn’t even care to watch me walk out of his life.

That day ruined me

Day 200

I laid in bed most days tossing and turning as the memories of us played in my mind. Haunted by these memories I often forced myself to sleep, or to cry. My wales so loud I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts

Day 43

“So how’s it going with Matt?” My friend asked

“Oh it’s going amazing! I’m head over heels for this guy, and I think we’re going to end up together” I told her

“Tell me more about him” she said as her eyes lit up

“Oh god I love his hair, the wavy brown locks, and I love his blue eyes I swear I could see a glimpse of us in them, and I love his skin how soft it is and how his cheeks flush when I compliment him, I love his lips they’re so plump and moisturized all the time and I love his smile. His teeth are gorgeous and his smile lights up any room he walks into” I said smiling like an idiot

“Oh god… you really are in love with him” she said laughing

“I guess so” I said laughing with her

Day 205

It was a bit over a month now since I last spoke to Matt. I mean I used to see him everywhere and it’s just like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

My chest physically hurts every single day. I was so stupid to think I could change him. He made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want a girlfriend.

How stupid and blind could I be to think he’d want me. I mean no one ever wants me in the end.

I killed myself for a guy who didn’t care.

Day 387

Here I was finally stepping out of the house after a week of trapping myself away. There was a crafting fair in my area, and I really needed to get out and walk and smell the fresh air.

I stopped at a few booths and purchased some things. Trying my hardest not to purchase things that reminded me of Matt.

After the last booth I decided to have a seat at a small table as I watched children play in the street. A smile creeped on my face as I watched them.

So pure and innocent, and life has yet to screw them over. On how I’d pay to go back in time and be a kid again. As I continued to watch them my thoughts were interrupted

“Y/N?” I heard to the left of me

My brows furrowed and I turned my head looking over. My breath hitching in my throat.

“Matt?” I said confused

“How have you been?” He asked smiling at me and taking a seat

“Oh I’ve been good” I said offering him a smile

“That’s great. I haven’t seen you in so long. You look good” he said

“Thank you, i know it’s been a long time” I said laughing a bit

“What are you up to these days?” He asked me

“Uhh you know just working, reading and writing” I said

“Did you ever finish that book you started writing? It was…it was really good” he said

“Oh man I forgot about that book….Im not even sure where it is” I said

“You should look for it, and finish it. I’d love to read it” he said smiling at me

“Maybe one day” I said nodding at him

“How have you been?” I asked him

“Me? Oh I’ve been good just working with my brothers still can you believe we’re at 5 million subscribers” he said smiling

“Congrats you guys deserve it” I said

“Thank you….wow this is just amazing seeing you again” he said looking at me with soft eyes

“Yeah it is” I said swallowing thickly

He went to speak when a girl appeared behind him

“Oh there you are Matt” she said walking over to him

“Oh hi” he said standing up

“Uhh Crystal this is Y/N, and Y/N this is Crystal my girlfriend” he said

“Nice to meet you” I said, shaking her hand. My stomach twisting into knots

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Matt has told me so much about you. He says he’s learned a lot about life from you” she said

“That’s great to hear” I said glancing over at Matt

“Well um I don’t want to keep you, it was great seeing you” Matt said

“Ditto” I said

With that they gave me one last glance and walked away.

My mind wrapped around the word ‘girlfriend’……I wasn’t even sure how to feel truly.

Day 426

I had driven up to the hilltop I always went to when I needed to think. After splitting with Matt I refused to come up here. The memories paining me too much.

I was ready to start fresh, and let go of the past. I wanted to be released of Matt’s shackles, and I needed to start somewhere. So the hilltop was the first thing that came to mind.

I watched the busy street bustle beneath me as I let my mind race freely. Coming to the realization that love and soulmates were all bullshit.

Lies fed to us through books, music and movies. It’s a nice thought, but in the end it doesn’t really work out.

I couldn't be angry at anyone. I mean this is just the fact of life.

I let a smile creep on my face as I sniffled. Finding peace of mind was something I looked forward to and I had to take it day by day.

I let the wind rustle through my hair as I watched the trees sway and the golden sun kiss my skin. Life was beautiful and I was taking it for granted.

“Y/N” I suddenly heard from behind me

I quickly turned around and met eyes with Matt

“Matthew” I said giving him a weak smile

“Strange finding you here” he said walking over to me

“This is my secret place” I said batting my tears away

“I suppose that’s true” he replied laughing and sitting next to me

“Congrats on uhh the girlfriend” I said looking at the skyline

“Don’t say it unless you mean it” he said bumping his shoulder into mine

“Well then in that case my lips are sealed” I said

He let out a breath of air and looked at the skyline

“So uhh are you okay?” He asked after a moment of silence

“I will be” I said kicking the gravel around

“You know it sucks realizing everything you believe in is false” I said wiping my nose

“What do you mean?” He asked looking over at me

“You know soulmates and love and all that shit, you were right” I said looking over at him

“No” he said shaking his head

“Yes don’t look at me like that” I said rolling my eyes

“It was meant to be with Crystal and I. I mean if I never stopped her to tell her she dropped her bag…we wouldn’t be where we are now. And the whole time I would think you were right” he said

“No you didn’t” I said laughing

“Yes! Yes I did” he said laughing too

“It’s just….its just me you weren’t right about, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one for you” he said looking at me as he blinked a few tears away

I looked at him and let a few tears fall. Someone I thought was truly mine…but he was not mine. I was the person who paved the way for him to find who he truly needed in life

“You never wanted to be my boyfriend, but here you are” I said nodding my head

“I know, but it just happened” he said

“I don’t understand…I don’t understand how it just happened” I said shaking my head

“I just woke up one day and I knew….I knew that she was who I could spend the rest of my life with” he replied wiping his eye

“Knew what?” I said as my voice got shaky

“Knew what I was never sure of with you” he said looking at me

Those words pained me….they did, but I couldn’t be mad at him. I can not hate someone who doesn’t want me, it's not their fault.

Day 78

“Matt how do you know believe in love I don’t get it” I said laughing as I played with his hair

“It’s simple, I just don’t. What does it even mean? I say this all the time” he said laughing

“How do you know you’re not in love is the real question” I replied back

“Well how would I know?” He said running his hands up my thigh as he laid on my stomach

“I don’t know…..you just wake up one day and you just know” I replied back

To this he stood quiet, and it made me wonder if he was falling in love with me

Day 426

“Yeah” I said ina whisper

Matt pulled me in for a hug and rubbed my back. A hug I so badly needed and I gripped onto him letting a few more tears slip from my eyes. I thought what we had was real, and it wasn’t. And this would be the last time I would really feel Matt

He pulled away and looked into my eyes smiling at me

“I should go, but I’m really happy to see that you’re doing good” he said standing up and walking away

“Matt” I called out and he turned around

“I really do hope that you’re happy” I said standing up

He looked at me for a few seconds licking his lips and flashing a toothy smile at me. Nodding his head and whispering a thank you.

He turned back around and walked away.

I sat back down on the bench running my hands through my hair as I let the tears fall.

This…this is where I would be leaving any memory and may hope of Matt. He would stay here on this hilltop overlooking LA.

Day 574

Dear Diary,

It’s been 400 days since I parted ways with Matt. It’s been over a year and I can finally say that I am happy and okay. The very last conversation with Matt was hard, but it was needed.

I needed him to let me go, so that I could let him go. He helped me understand it all, and for that I’m thankful. He cleared a path for me that would make it easier for me to go on with life.

Although I spent many nights praying that he and I were meant for each other deep down I’m glad that we weren’t. I’m glad he was in my life when he was because who knows who I would be right now. I’m forever grateful he was put into my life to show me the beauty and the pain of it all.

I still have love for Matt, but in a different way than most would think. He helped me find peace of mind, and although it was painful and agonizing torture I’m glad I went through it.

He showed me that there’s much more in life and even though he was not mine I could push forward with myself. He opened my eyes to a lot of things, and I’m grateful for it. He’s doing well with his girlfriend, and I couldn’t be more happy for him. I sometimes find myself wondering what that would be like if it was him and I, but I try not to think about it.

He’s helped me be a better me. I finished my book finally and had it published. It’s actually doing really well, and even showed his support. Saying even though he doesn’t read he finds himself going back to my pages and re reading them. He really is the best thing that has happened to me.

Even though he didn’t make it to the end of my story I’m still grateful he was a part of the chapters. And I will always be grateful to be a part of his story, watching from the sidelines as one of his cheerleaders.

He deserves it all!

So with that diary I am finally closing this chapter of my life, and beginning a new one. Manifesting the life that I have always wanted for myself and happy where I’m heading.

This is the last page of this diary, and it’s such a bittersweet ending to end this right here and wonder if it’ll continue on a new page in a fresh book…..I guess time will tell, and with that I’m off to new ventures!

Sincerely,

Y/N

I shut my book and closed my pen. Rolling my shoulders as I looked out the cafe window. Smiling at the young children playing in the streets….the beauty of life!

I finished my coffee and threw it in the trash. Stretching and cracking my neck as I gathered my journal and pen. I began to walk away

“Excuse me miss” I heard from behind me

“Uh yes” I said turning around

“You left your bag” he said walking over to me with it

“Oh shoot! My minds all over the place” I said shaking my head and grabbing my bag from him

“Oh man I get that!” He said laughing

“Well thank you….” I said waiting for his name

“Oh Samuel! But I go by Sam” he said sticking his hand out for me to shake

A chill ran up my spine….i've come full circle again

“Well thank you Sam, I’m Y/N” I said shaking his hand

“You’re welcome Y/N” he said smiling at me

“I’ll see you around” I said nodding at him

“Yeah I’ll see you around” he said moving his glasses up with his right hand

My eyes immediately darted to the book in his hand….

The same Stephen King book I picked up when I met Matt.

What a small world….

The End

Alright this one was LONGGGGG, but I loved writing it🥺, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. This will not be a series just a quick little imagine where the ending is up to the reader🤭. I love yall and I hope you enjoyed reading it🥹🖤🖤 Also this is based on 500 Days of Summer because that movie broke meeee😭

-J💅🏽

[ohforficsake]

Down, Boy

A Margay Universe Drabble

series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: The boys end up at a dive bar on Frankie's birthday. Snipers are good at pool. Frankie's not gonna be able to wait until they make it home. Can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC Audrey 'Moose' Goddard

Word Count: ~ 1.6K words

Rating: Explicit 18+ / dirty talk, momentary dry humping, jerking off in a dive bar bathroom, mention of oral sex (f receiving), bit of a come fetish (it's these two, they're just like this) / language / drunk!Frankie is the sweetest, filthiest menace with a massive competency kink / Minors DNI

A/N: A little drabble that came up a few months ago but didn't quite fit with the main Margay storyline. Just something fun to tie you over after putting you all through it with Chapter 9.

Divider by @cafekitsune!

Frankie is—

—a bit drunk tonight.

But it’s his birthday.

And he’s always been a happy drunk. 

There’s no falling on the floor. No getting up in other patrons’ faces. Just cheeks ruddy and round from freely-given mirth. 

He’s harmless as a puppy and just as excitable. 

Whooping with cheers whenever anyone sinks a pool ball into a pocket, whether they’re on his team or not.

_____

He had made the trip out to northern California for the occasion, wanting only to spend his day with his daughter.  

But the boys catch wind of his plan and throw in for an Airbnb on the coast for the occasion.

And in the process of planning, Santi and Benny cook up a four-beer deep idea over an empty pizza box to arrange an extra gift.

Aud, what are your thoughts on Fort Bragg? Santi fires off on a text thread between the three of them.

I’m glad that they’re changing that name, guy was a cunt.

Sorry no, California. Benny clarifies. But also, agreed.

Is that not named after the same guy?

Santi sends the house’s address at the same time Benny sends, it is yeah.

Catfish wants to spend his birthday out there with his kid and we couldn’t let him celebrate alone. Pope attempts to steer.

Wondering if you might want to tag along? Last week of June. 

Send me a venmo request for my part of the booking.

_____

Something warm blooms in Audrey’s chest at the sight of Frankie with his friends, quietly strategizing over forest green pool table felt.

He throws his arm around Benny’s neck and thumps Santiago on the back when they win this round, uncaring that he and Will have lost the last three.

“Can you please play this one, this score is embarrassing,” Will leans over on his bar stool with arms crossed against his chest, voice raised just enough so Audrey can hear him over Garth Brooks being played at a decibel below ungodly volume.

“Already told you, if I play, it’s over in one turn,” she takes a swig of beer, “that’s no fun for anyone.”

“Losing isn’t fun either though.”

She studies Will in the haze of neon-red tinged smoke. Audrey’s only known him for three hours, but she likes him already. Enough to grant him this favor.

“Fine.” 

She slips off her bar stool and shimmies her jeans higher up on her hips before shrugging the leather jacket off of her shoulders.

“You playin’, Moose?” Santiago calls with a grin.

“One round,” she holds up a finger, “save these boys some shame,” she finishes as Will hands her a cue. The minute she lifts it off the ground she murmurs “not that one,” and Will swaps her out. 

“There’s no way she’s that good,” Benny quips to Pope as he racks up the balls.

“I—do not have as much confidence as you on that,” Santiago carefully lifts the triangle and slots it back under the table. “You should probably know better, Benjamin.”

“You boys are fucked,” Frankie loops his arms around both of their shoulders as Audrey chalks her cue.

She places the cue ball towards one rail behind the second set of diamonds and glances behind her, gauging the space before leaning down to eye level, bouncing and spinning the cue in her hand to get a feel for its balance before she takes her first shot.

Audrey sinks two balls on the break. 

She quickly assesses the table when they come to a stop. “Stripes, do I need to call the pocket?”

“No need to be a show-off,” Pope quips. 

“Fair enough,” she slips around the far side of the table and sinks the 9-ball in a corner. It lines the cue ball up perfectly and she drops 14 in a center pocket. 

One lap around the table and a glance at the boys to be sure she has clearance before Audrey knocks the cue ball just off its center point, gliding it across felt where it transfers its spin to 15, sending it swirling down the rail into a corner pocket. She slips around to the opposite side of the table, banking the cue ball off the opposite rail and into 13, which slips neatly into the center pocket nearest her. 

“What went in on the break?” Benny calls.

“11 and 2,” Will answers where he’s calmly perched on a barstool against the wall.

She could miss now and he’d still be impressed.

She won’t.

The cue ball is dead center on the table and 10 is sitting a foot short of a corner. Audrey circles the table, chalking her cue as she analyzes angles. The best shot is from the end nearest the three boys but she’ll have to reach for it.

She stands in front of them and murmurs “sorry, boys,” before she hikes one knee up on the side rail and leans down, chest nearly grazing the table. 

Frankie covers Benny and Santi’s eyes from where his arms are still braced on their shoulders. 

His eyes, however, are locked on her ass.

They hear 10 drop in before brushing Frankie’s hands away.

Audrey bounces the cue ball off the edge of 12, popping it into the nearest pocket.

“Oh, that’s done, she’s got it,” Benny murmurs when the white ball comes to a stop directly in line with the corner pocket nearest Will, the 8 ball sitting perfectly in the middle of the shot.

Audrey sinks it and Frankie whoops, clapping both men on the back before rushing around the table to grab Audrey in a bear hug that lifts her up off her feet.

“FUCK yeah, baby!!!” He screams, taking her face in his hands and mashing his mouth against hers.

“Okay, down boy,” she quips with a smile.

“Well played, Moose,” Will holds out his hand for a shake.

“Alright, the rest is on y’all,” she hands the cue off to Will. “I gotta hit the restroom and then I’ll pick up another round.” She makes her way around the table, Benny and Santi congratulate her with claps on the back before she’s off down the hall.

“Hell of a woman you got there, Catfish,” Will chalks his cue.

Frankie answers with the quirk of a brow and a smirk that drips with filth.

One of the patrons recognizes Benny from fight night and it causes a stir. Turns out Will knows him from high school and everyone’s fascinated with what a small world it really is, attention distracted enough to allow Frankie to slip away.

_____

Audrey wrenches the door to the bathroom open and collides with Frankie’s chest.

“Jesus, Francisco.”

He backs her up with his body, kicking the bathroom door closed and latching it as his mouth crashes against hers, twisting his cap around backwards.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” He smashes her against the wall with his broad form, craning low to kiss at what skin he can get to under her turtleneck before giving up and sucking on her earlobe. 

“Yeah, well, I guess” she pants as Frankie drops to his knees and grabs at her hips, grinding the bulge in his jeans against her shin as he mouths at her stomach through the fabric of her shirt, “don’t play pool with a sniper.” 

Frankie is fully hard as he ruts against her, pulling clumsily at the button and zipper of her jeans. He inhales against her mound and moans before quickly getting to his feet. 

Harmless as a puppy and just as excitable.

He’ll sniff crotches and hump legs too, apparently.

Audrey grabs his face between her hands in an effort to center him, dipping her tongue into his mouth before Frankie pulls back.

“Fuuuck baby,” he reaches down to squeeze his cock through his jeans, “I’m not gonna make it, baby, I can’t–”

“Frankie–”

“Shhh, gatita, please,” he clamps a hand over her mouth as his forehead thumps hard against hers, “fuck,” he huffs, “I’m gonna. Pull those pretty panties down for me, beautiful. Just a little bit.”

Audrey is positively dying to see where this goes. 

She slips her jeans and thong down her thighs, eyes locked on Frankie’s locked on black lace.

“Right there. That’s my pretty girl. Yeahh,” he shifts around to free himself from his jeans and she moans into his palm where he slides the hot, hard length of him against her center.

Frankie indulges for a moment, slipping his cock against the smooth wet of her lips.

“Shit,” he hisses before gripping himself in his fist, brown eyes searching green for permission.

And having it, he starts to pump his cock.

It takes him less than a minute before thick ropes of semen spurt into the gusset of her panties as he groans against the back of his hand where it’s still clamped over her mouth.

“Gatita?” He lets go on a ragged gasp once his hips have stilled and he’s worked himself through.

She puffs an acknowledging breath against his palm. 

“I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear,” he lets his hand drop but keeps his forehead pressed against hers. 

Frankie’s fingers move down to hook in the waistband of her lace thong before he slips it, warm and sticky and reeking of his spend back up into place.

“Keep that for me?” He slips his tongue in her mouth, fastening the button on her jeans and dragging the zipper closed. “I’m gonna come back for it.”

He presses a final, wet kiss to her lips, warm palm resting briefly on her cheek before he slips out of the door.

He leaves her frayed with want. Panting through burning lips as her head thumps back against the wall.

Sometimes she wonders if Frankie Morales is the filthiest motherfucker alive.

Two hours later when he cleans her cunt with his tongue—cap twisted round backwards on his head, wet panties stuffed into the pocket of his jeans—she realizes he probably is.

He probably is.

And he's hers.

Tagging a few lovely folks who are/might be interested: @tinytinymenace @theshensei @jeewrites @oliveksmoked @for-a-longlongtime

@toomanytookas @missladym1981 @harriedandharassed @76bookworm76 @spookyxsam

@soft-persephone @julesonrecord @legendary-pink-dot