#not caring anymore and posting dark content on here feels like stepping onto a mine field

[yoichichi]

when I post 2 separate toji step dad pussy inspection fics with different plots DONT worry about

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3

[yesimwriting]

To Be Alone

VAGUE SPOILER WARNING FOR SHADOW AND BONE BOOK SERIES-- I try hard not to mention why the Darkling/General Kirigan is the bad guy so that I don’t spoil anything,, but the reader finds out that he lies about his identity and that he’s super sketchy/not a good guy (again,, I avoided as many specifics as possible to keep it from being spoiler-y)

Warnings: lowkey manipulation, kissing/makeout, slight fingering

A/n y’all drove me to this lol,, pls be nice!! This is the closest to full on smut I’ve ever written!! Ahh I’m lowkey scared to post

Summary: the reader finds out something about the Darkling/General Kirigan, he finds a way to convince her to stay 

--

No amount of evidence will ever be enough to convince me fully. A part of me will always hold onto unjustifiable doubt because a part of me hopes that if I hold onto the lies tight enough they’ll turn into the truth. But that’s not how the world works. 

General Kirigan. Ravka put its faith in him. I put my faith in him. I did more than that. I pushed aside my reservations and doubt in order to try and comfort him when he spoke of loneliness. Was all that a lie as well? 

No. I can’t afford to think of the emotional side of it all, because if I do I may find myself incapable of moving from this spot. I don’t have time to reflect on it all, to try and unravel hopeful lies and manipulative truths. That can be done when I’m not here. If I stay here, he’ll know I know and he’ll stop me from...what? What am I supposed to do next? I could find someone with some level of power to warn. 

“There you are.” Kirigan. I’m turned towards the window, not facing him, but there is no weariness or malice in his voice. He has no reason to suspect my suspicion. “Are you unwell?” 

Calm. I need to pass as calm. Not turning, I force myself to ignore the endearing hint of concern in his voice. “No.” I can hear his measured footsteps. “Why would you think that?” 

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he’s directly behind me now. If I turn, I’ll practically be against his chest. “And you didn’t come see me last night.” 

Oh. I knew it was a mistake to begin to pull on such a small thread so close to when he expected to see me, but it kept gnawing on me. That doubt. That tiny thing I couldn’t ever let go off. “I fell asleep.” No--I cringe at my impulsive response. He knows how difficult it is for me to fall asleep. “Yesterday was just really...draining.” 

In an easy movement, he places his hand on my shoulder. It’s a silent request for me to turn. Exhaling, I obey. Why? I could lie to myself and say that I’m listening to him in order to kill his suspicions, but the effect he has on me is undeniable. Even before touching each other became a casual thing on his part, my body wanted to react to him. 

He’s quick to cup my face, tilting my chin up slightly so that I can’t avoid his gaze. “What troubles you, little dove?” A nickname for when he’s feeling particularly gentle. Thoughts of the evil he has to be twist my stomach as my face flushes. Kirigan’s thumb brushes over the corner of my bottom lip, stalling as I fight the urge to melt into the contact. I meet his tense gaze cautiously. “You said nothing could make you look at me differently.” No. There’s no way he figured out my change with one look alone. I’ll deny it. I’ll do what I need to do to be convincing, and then I’ll manage to escape. His grip on my shoulder tightens. “Don’t you dare lie to me again.” 

The urge to snap and point out the sick irony of him telling me not to lie at him almost forces me to break. His gaze starts to shift away from me--towards the half packed escape bag I’d been in the middle of constructing. I stretch my arms forward, desperate to keep his gaze on me and away from what I can’t explain. 

Kirigan’s free hand moves to pull my hand off of his cheek, but he pauses, eyes shutting in peaceful contentment. “What do you know?” 

I expected his words to be angry, to border on violent...but he just sounds tired. Please, Saints, let me be wrong. “Is there anything to know?” The only reaction I get is the slightest stall of his breathing. “You said you didn’t want to be alone anymo--” 

“I don’t.” The harshness of his words almost coax a small flinch from me. 

Swallowing back the knot in my stomach, I exhale slowly. “A part of not being alone is being honest.” 

His eyes finally open. I don’t dare move as he moves my hand off of his cheek so that he can brush his lips against my knuckles. I suppress an embarrassing shudder. “You wouldn’t have stayed--if you knew you wouldn’t ha--” 

No denial. I can’t--I can’t do this. “You know what the worst part is?” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I can’t believe it’s true. “I might have.” Those words break something in me as I force myself away from him. The lack of contact leaves me more frozen than ever. “I might have! I might have been able to bear all the monstrous things you’ve done if you had just--” 

“What?!” He meets my outburst with one of equal power. “You might have stayed regardless?” The way he scoffs leaves me feeling like a wandering child. “You might have still looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky instead of like I’m the darkness they fight against?” I stay silent as he steps forward, quick to hold my chin in place with his long fingers. “I couldn’t risk you on possibility.” Kirigan’s gaze is so intense, a part of me is surprised that shadows don’t come at me--drowning me in darkness and him. “And don’t think me foolish enough to believe that someone like you would understand that I have to do what I’m doing--” 

“Have to?” No--how did I almost let him lure me back in so easily. I pull myself away, approaching my open wardrobe. “That’s not past tense.” He’s still--he’s still actively hurting people. Why had I been so stupidly naive to think that maybe this was all history? “I--I can’t do this.” 

Each step towards the exit of the room chips away at a piece of my soul. “You’re not walking away from me,” his strong grip is on my arm in a sharp instinct, “I won’t--I can’t be alone again.” 

I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “You already are.” 

His eyes are pleading, pools of frightened adoration. “No--no,” he steps towards me, not releasing his grip on my arm, “You’re hurt that I lied, but now I’ll never have to lie to you again.” I push against his grip. Kirigan doesn’t release me. “Y/n,” my name is a lament from his lips, “Please.” 

My eyes round out as my heart leaps into my chest. “I used to think that you were only touched by the darkness, but now I’m not sure you can tell where the darkness ends and you begin.” His grip just barely falters. Maybe it’s acceptance. 

I shift weakly, a softer attempt to escape. His grip tightens even more than before as he tugs me forward. The reminder of his physical strength leaves me frozen in shock. I can’t read his expression, but something about him has darkened. When I don’t pull away again, his thumb brushes up and down my forearm. The silkiness of his touch is warm temptation. I inhale slowly as he moves his other arm in order to touch my shoulder. The contact is almost shy. 

“Kirigan,” my voice betrays me, breaking as his fingers trace down my collar, “What--what are you doing?” 

He tilts his head, taking in the way his touch rids my body of fight. “Nothing, really.” His voice is low, supple in its assuredness. “You’re the only person who has ever seen me--and for you to leave me after that.” 

“No,” I try to step back, but my body freezes as he toys with the collar of my dress, “What I saw--what I found out--that wasn’t you.” 

“It’s who I have to make myself be,” he whispers, “I’m doing what needs to be done.” 

“That logic can earn you a lot,” my words are careful, “But it cannot earn you me.” 

His hand brushes past my neck, finding the root of my hair. Kirigan pulls on it slightly, forcing me to expose my lower jaw and neck. I’m still as he leans forward, warm breath fanning across my skin. I fight against a shiver in vain as his lips brush down my skin, only stopping as he nips the base of my neck. I can’t help the small sound of surprise that escapes me. 

“Are you sure about that?” Blood rushes to my face, motivated by both embarrassment and something else. “Little dove, don’t ruin us.” His touch is warm, but his words leave me with an uncomfortable chill. In an attempt to escape the coldness, I half-press myself into the trail of soft and desperate kisses he’s leaving down my neck.

Kirigan pauses, exhaling slowly, and I feel some mental strength return to me. “There can’t be an us--not like this.” 

“Y/n.” He never uses my name. “You are the only light I know.” His words steal something from me as he pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t handle the weight of solitude anymore--it’s worse than the dark.”

 I am unflinching, watching him with a markman’s care. Kirigan takes my silence as a positive. I don’t move as his gaze drops to my lips before he presses his own together. I don’t move as he destroys the distance between us like it’s some type of unbearable weight. His lips meet mine with enough force to bruise my face. The surprise of it gives him the chance to coax my lips into parting as his hands move to either side of my face. My body reacts without my permission, letting him deepen the kiss. Every time I find some kind of free will, Kirigan pushes it away with some kind of tactful lull of his tongue. Keeping his control, Kirigan ends the kiss by grazing sharp teeth against my bottom lip. 

I’m left panting. “You’re--you lied, Kirigan--I--” 

“You told me once you could never see me as a monster.”

“I said that to a version of you that technically doesn’t exist.” 

The grief in my chest and desire in my stomach twist in a nauseating way. Kirigan’s eyes watch me patiently, a pain similar to my own reflected in them. “Who I am when I’m with you is less fictitious than any identity I’ve ever given myself.”

The vulnerability in his voice is as alluring and distracting as the kiss. I find myself thinking of the warmth of his mouth against my skin. He had kissed me like the cure for ancient solitude could come from me. I think he had a point, because now that he’s not touching me in that way I feel the familiar tugs of cold emptiness. 

“I don’t understa--” My words are cut off by his lips brushing against mine. 

His touch is soft, but it’s far from shy as he draws out the kiss. It’s an attempt to keep me on edge, to keep me wanting him enough to push past my doubts. “Y/n,” there’s a reverent quality to his voice, “I--” Kirigan grabs the collar of my dress, pulling me to him sharply. His kiss conveys things that neither of us truly understand. “Don’t go.” 

I don’t want to. The realization is a cruel wave crashing against my chest. “You lie to everyone, you lie to me--you--you hurt and destroy and I--” One of his hands brushes against the hem of my dress. “What are you,” the words are supposed to be sharp, but my resolve melts as his hand presses firmly against my thigh, “Doing?” 

“You know me,” he draws out each word as his fingers graze towards the inside of my thighs. The cool metal of his rings are practically ice against my flushed skin. “Little dove, trust me.” 

My nails dig into my palms as I try to ignore what he’s doing. “I did and you betrayed me.” 

“I couldn’t lose you,” he whispers, thumb inching up my inner thigh.

I press my lips together, fighting against a natural reaction. “You did lose me.” 

Kirigan’s eyes darken as his grip on my thigh tightens. “We’ll move past this.” He’s both pleading and assured. “I think I know how to make it up to you.” He trails his hand up my thigh swiftly, stopping with his hand on my lower hip. Shamelessly, he toys with the hem of my underwear. “The only thing that’s really changed is that now I’m touching you like this.” 

The only thing I can do is gape at him. He’s a villain, his hands are coated in unnecessarily spilled blood, and I am helpless against his slightest touch. I should try pushing him away or at the very least resist his blatant advantages. His fingers brush down my underwear, stopping at a growing wet spot. The knowing look he gives me burns my core. I try to keep my expression hard in a final form of protest, but when he presses his pointer finger against me all the resolve in me is shattered. 

My eyebrows draw together as a small sound escapes me, “Kirigan.” I can’t tell if it’s praise or a warning. 

He pauses, hand retracting slightly at my whining. “Y/n,” his other hand cups my cheek. I lean into the contact without permission from my body. “There is only one name that I have not given myself and only one name I want to hear you breathe like that.” His thumb traces my lips softly. I don’t move as he leans forward, turning his lips towards my ear. 

“Aleksander.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a stolen heartbeat on his lips. 

He presses his fingers against where I’m the weakest again. My hips grind forward instinctually, desperate for more contact as he kisses the top of my jaw. 

“Aleksander.” The name escapes me in the form of a broken moan. Speaking it feels more intimate than the way he’s touching me. 

There’s the slightest pause in his consuming actions. “Again,” he breathes, “Say my name again.” His request is so soft it feels like he’s more at my mercy than I am at his. 

My eyes shut as his teeth graze my neck. “Aleksander.” At the sound of his name, his teeth brush against my skin harder than ever. 

When he starts to pull away, I reach out desperately, grabbing his kefta. “I thought you wanted to leave, little dove.” 

No. No. He is not going to get me to agree to stay by giving me something as intimate as his original name and by denying me his touch. “Please.” 

He reaches for my hand, pulling it off of him cruelly. “Do you want to stay with me?” 

I know which answer will get me what I really want, but I’m not sure which answer is true. Do I want to stay with him? Even after knowing what he’s done? “I don’t want to leave you.” The vulnerability of the statement cracks at my heart. He turns away from me in order to face the wall. I take a tentative step towards. “But I’m not sure what I want matters.” 

In one quick motion, he’s yanking more forward and pressing me into the wall. “Of course desire matters,” his body is pressed against mine almost entirely, “It means something.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “It means you could choose me.” 

What could I say to that? I part my lips to speak but he silences me by pressing his lips against my jaw. I offer no protest as he starts touching me the way he did earlier. I’m more desperate now, more needy and okay with that. His fingers slip past my underwear testingly, hesitating before finally entering me slowly. 

“Aleksander,” my voice is so needy I’m not sure it’s my own. 

“I want you to say my name like that again,” he whispers, kissing down my collarbone as he begins to press his fingers in and out of me faster, “And I want you to say my name casually,” his pace doesn’t slow, even when I begin to let out indistinguishable whines, “And I want you to say my name while you’re falling asleep,” his touch becomes more aggressive as his words become more sincere, “And I want you to say my name every other way there is to say it.” 

The bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach grows until there’s nothing else for me to hold onto. I finish with a sharp gasp. The feeling of euphoria is only intensified as Aleksander begins to kiss up my jaw before finally pressing our lips together. 

I break the kiss first, desperate to breathe. Have my legs been so shaky this entire time? Aleksander lets me recover, resting his head against my forehead. “I’m tired of being alone.” 

I imagine all the foul acts he’s committed and all the bad he wants to bring. I picture all the innocent blood he’s spilled. I see all of it--every horror and dark deed he’s ever committed. But I cannot see me leaving him. Maybe that makes me a monster, maybe that makes me an idiot...but I can’t do it. 

Slowly, I move to drape my arms over his back in a loose hug. “You’re not alone, Aleksander.” I’m not sure what that signifies, but I know it’s true. There has to be good in him. No one capable of such warmth can be pure evil. “I choose you.” 

[alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94]

Work You Out (M)

Authors: @alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94 and @nomunamuinmybrain​ 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Rating: M 

Disclaimer: Everything marked as M includes explicit content. Do not read if you are under 18 years of age.

Genre: Slice of Life/ Idol AU/ Smut 

Summary: Working for Hybe has been an experience. Being Jungkook's manager is another story. His sharp eyes, firm jawine and snarky attitude was a deadly combination to begin with. The guy easily found his way to your heart and you simply couldn't take it anymore.

Notes: Hello!! That's another installment of the imaginary scenarios myself and my best friend @nomunamuinmybrain​ come up with while driving by the coast line. This oneshot is going to be cross-posted on her profile too. Enjoy!!

Word Count: 2.4K

Thinking back to how I managed to land such an unimaginable employment opportunity must have been a miracle. Unquestionably, working for HYBE had so many benefits; I swore to never leave this place. Sure, I was a simple manager's assistant, but I was by the side of one of the managers that handled the most important talent in the stretch of South Korea, the entire globe to be honest, BTS. I was assigned the position of assistant to the manager of one of the guys, none other than Jeon Jungkook. I really couldn’t believe my luck. Not only was I a part of one of the most skyrocketing influential enterprises in the country, but I also had the chance to meet some of the most inspiring people in the whole world! Who would have thought?!

Did I have a crush on the guy by the end of my first month working here? Yes, but who wouldn't? He is the sweetest, always polite and courteous. I've met my share of self-boasting asshats; this industry is flooded with such. This guy is worth billions and he has remained ridiculously humble. Word got around about him being a wonderful young man and I could positively say he is so much more up close. Jungkook is ridiculously handsome that’s a given already, but his personality was the real deal-maker. He reminds me of a dark stormy thundery night where I cover myself with my favourite warm fluffy blanket starring out of the window a rich flavored hot chocolate in hand.

In general, I quite enjoy working at the company’s principled environment. Don’t get me wrong, nothing in this world is rainbows and butterflies, but overall, I can confidently say that it’s been a mainly positive experience. Thankfully, the department I am in is assembled by kind, funny people who like to get things done. There hasn’t been a day were I regretted coming here. As for my daily duties as an assistant, working for Jungkook meant keeping up with his appointments, helping him with anything at anytime, managing his schedule, making sure it matches with the other guys' and so much more. I was required to work around the clock and as a single independent woman in her late twenties who was trying to figure out the world around her that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though I digress. Essentially, I was one of the employees responsible for pretty much anything and everything he needed. Our department was at his disposal 24/7 running around, living that busy life.

That's until the pandemic struck. That was the first time I thought to myself that this might be nature’s valiant plan to get back what man so forcefully took from her. Suddenly, everything was canceled; life got put on a hold. My dearest supervisor, Jungkook's manager, had to stay at home because he had kids. In fact, a lot of people had to stay at home. Abruptly, days became weeks and weeks became months. The desperation and frustration we were feeling was like nothing else ever experienced. Truthfully, it felt like something had been stolen from us and we could never get it back. In this manner, when the gears finally started grinding again I was assigned to be the on-site manager for Jungkook. That meant being in direct contact with him more so than before and of course, being responsible for a ton of other obligations.

Not going to lie, the first months were slightly awkward for both of us and understandably so. We both were used to very different working arrangements. I might have been working behind the scenes before, but now I had to step into the spotlight becoming his own personal shadow, and I am sure he wasn’t really comfortable with that. Taken into account the current situation everyone looked like a volcano ready to erupt.

Once, I happened to accidentally step in a not so common incident; maybe it was a circumstance I wasn’t supposed to witness. He was on the phone at the time, when I saw him. That’s why I decided it was best if I stayed behind the half closed door of the studio. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and it was none of my business after all, but I could tell by the minute I laid my eyes on him that something was wrong. Something had been bothering him; irritation written all over his face. He was pacing back and forth, phone still on his ear. He was clenching his fist so hard I wondered if his nails cut into his skin. He was breathing heavily, almost as if he would burst and his muscles grew tense.

Then, in an instant, it seemed that the call ended and as he was putting the phone in his pocket he slammed his fists down onto the table a loud bang echoing in the room. After some consideration, I knocked on the door to make my presence known and he sharply looked at me. Without having the chance to say anything to him he let out a loud growl and left the room leaving me dumbfounded and unaware by the door. Soon after that, he apologized for the way he acted confessing that he had an unfortunate falling out with one of his closest friends and at the time he couldn’t process what was happening. I would never forget that day. It was the day I came across a not so familiar side to him.

From that day forward, things miraculously became easier and Jungkook was way more relaxed around my presence, we joked around often and he even texted me to ask about a variety of things outside of regular working hours. We managed to develop a teasing relationship full of endless borderline flirtatious banter. He had this other side to him that only a selected few got the chance to know. Jeon Jungkook was indeed a comforting raging night, but he was also an infuriating playful mischievous brat when he wanted to be. This in all honesty, made him a hundred times more irresistible in my eyes.

Life was going on smoothly until Jungkook decided that taking after midnight trips to the gym was perfectly acceptable, insisting that I escort him instead of his bodyguard. I cursed every single time but I went anyway. Forty-five minutes after midnight he was lifting weights, unbothered. Taking secret short glances towards him I contemplated what I had done in my previous life to deserve this torment. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about the late hour, but to have this view in front of my eyes was causing me both mental and physical pain. The guy was clearly sculpted by the gods. With his broad chest, muscular arms and thick thighs he could have anyone he ever wanted. He even sported an hourglass figure; He is insanely unreal. That’s the main reason why I decided to sit there preoccupied with a silly game on my phone to kill time until the suffering ended. I was barely hanging from a string at the verge of blowing off the barrier between my personal and professional life.

Out of the blue, with a loud grunt, he dropped the weights, drawing me out of my contemplation. He looked annoyed for whatever reason. He tried his best to seem nonchalant but it was obvious, in his beautiful stern eyes. Could he be craving for an audience? Abandoning every rational thought I had, I put my phone away, looked in his direction as I got up to get water. I smirked at his clear annoyance. Surely, we weren't supposed to interact with the artists this way but I am cranky and sleepy, and for the first time ever, he was being kind of an ass to me. Was I perhaps the reason behind his sudden personality change? The thought kept floating at the back of my mind.

This kept going on for about three weeks or so and I gave him nothing. His annoyance prominent in his expression, more and more as the weeks went by. He was hot but I am sure all he had been seeking was an audience given that he missed it, or so I thought. Thursday evening rolls around and I was particularly iffy tonight ‘because I was extremely frustrated, sexually. This one was making my situation worse, sporting a tight black tank top and skinny grey sweatpants which made him look like a treat. He could easily pass for a bodyguard with those broad well-built shoulders. As my eyes scanned his body I realized this was the first time his tatted sleeve was on display. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander. By the time I was done his eyes were already fixed on mine and I turned away immediately, embarrassment written all over my face.

Seeking solace in the women’s bathroom I tried to extinguish this ravenous yearning. The feeling of cold water did nothing to help the burning desire that was building inside me. Without warning, a knock at the door was heard, his sweet angelic voice following "Are you okay?" he asked, the remnants of a smirk could be heard still. "Jungkook you cannot be here, I am okay. I'll be out in a minute." I exclaimed, as calm as I could. "It's been ten minutes. I can't continue unless you're there." He insisted, I heard him chuckle after that.

With that, it was now or never, I pushed the door’s handle and made my way outside rolling my eyes in the process and he caught that, quickly moving closer, clearly annoyed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in my features, making him look not quite intimidating but definitely interesting. No, it was my mistake. Not just interesting, he looked ravishing. "As I said, I'll be out in a minute. Then you can finish up" I argued. But he didn't budge, moving even closer, if that was even possible, he was almost a breath away. "I don't feel like working out anymore" he declared like a child whose toy was taken away from him. As if I chose to play heads or tails with my career, I poked the beast further, "What is it that you want to do then?" I asked making sure he heard the annoyance in my tone. Coming even closer, to the point where he was completely pressed up against me, "You" he uttered calmly yet authoritatively. Before I could process what he had just said his soft lips crushed mine with a vengeance, thirsty. Pulling my lip with his teeth, he kept planting kisses from my lips to my jaw trailing down to my neck and décolletage; a surprised panting left my lips.

It felt as if I had involuntarily awakened this beastly hunger within him. His kisses insatiable and his touch was possessive, "I've been thinking about this for so long" he confessed as he took my hoodie off. "Sitting there, not giving a word let alone a glimpse. If you think this is off-limits you're wrong" he growled pointing at himself. "I can guarantee that once we're done here you definitely won't be able to look at me, ever." As he said all that, he managed to get me in a compromising position against the sink, his slim waist in between my legs. He kept my gaze as he lowered his head between my thighs. Little shit kept giving me hickeys on the soft flesh of my inner thighs, so close to my now dripping core. He enjoyed tormenting me and it showed. I was helpless but oh, God was all of this hot. He licked a stripe over my soaked panties, "Oh baby, you smell delicious" and with one hand he took off my underwear completely.

He sank in my folds, letting a guttural moan that I felt vibrating through my core. Not being able to think about what was happening I let myself indulge in my carnal desire my hands tangled in between his luscious hair.

He loved food and I've watched him eat before, but this must be one of his favorites ‘cause he was doing his best not to let a drop go to waste; he acted like a man starved. His hands held me in place, thankfully, ‘cause everything was too much; nothing could stop me from shaking, feeling everything deep in my core, he was too much. He just had to be good at everything. He kept a torturous tempo, from sucking my clit to his sinful tongue penetrating me, and as tears gathered around my eyes he decided to add his slender fingers in bringing me closer to heaven than I've ever been. "That's it baby, let go. Let go for me" he exhaled and just like that I had the most intense climax. My limbs felt numb, my whole body felt like rubber.

Before I could register what was happening he was back at it, sucking my over stimulated clit, my thighs unconsciously closing around his head as oversensitivity hit. "One more, please, come on baby, you can do it" he begged. He kept pumping his fingers while sucking my clit, as if it was his only goal in life. My screams muffled through my own hand clamped on my mouth as I reached my high for a second time that night. I felt it take over me with such intensity I didn't register what had happened. He emerged from between my thighs, soaked from me squirting and with a proud look on his face he declared "Now I look like I had the workout of a lifetime".

He helped me get dressed and pulled me close for a soft peck. He must have noticed my concerned look because he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug and said "Don't be scared about this, we can work it out. I really like you and I'd like you to stick around". Starring into his eyes, I nodded and he pulled me close for the sweetest kiss, trying to tame my bewildered hair. He helped me get dressed and got out the door first to make sure that no one was around. I waited for a moment and then I got a text.

[random-tinies]

Sea and Sky and Stupid Decisions

hi there! bio anon here, wanted to post a thing i made in the mcyt g/t discord here. it was initially just a little prompt but it ended up spiraling out of control ;P this is about 1 parts noms story to 3 parts legend myth, because i haven’t any idea how to write noms without plot ;P

(thanks again for letting me submit this to you!!)

content warnings for: soft vore, fearplay, major injury (not delved into at all), blood (also not delved into much)

The sea is vast and unforgiving. It holds no master, it does not bargain or hold grudges, it simply takes and gifts as it pleases, a bringer of life and freedom and of death and deep crushing depths all at once. It is unknowable to mortal minds.

It can also, on occasion, be extremely stupid in its decision making.

The sea god, in the form of a vast whale shark, had been gliding through his domain with a peaceful certainty of his power. The sun beat down upon his vast spotted back, glittering the stripes of gold and emerald that signified his divinity along his fins. The vast open ocean was where he was most powerful, most tricky to deal with. Along the calmer coral reefs and kelp forests and shallow shores of his domain there was the certainty of land beneath you, even if it was buried under the ocean tides. In the open ocean you were a puppet to the playing tides, the world went on endlessly beneath and above you, and if you were in danger there was nothing you could do but plead to the ocean for a mercy that he never felt too inclined to give. 

The sea god had been making his way, with the endless patience of the filter feeder he was taking the form of, towards a tiny wooden boat bobbing like a toy atop his ocean. It was always fun to snap up a couple of mortals from their refuges at the surface, to remind them that their fear of the sea is not unfounded. It was a little surprising though that there was one all of the way out here - the main village trade routes generally kept to the shorelines in fear of his capricious nature. This mortal was either very brave or very lost.

It didn’t matter. The sea god swam languidly towards the tiny toy contraption, and however many creatures were inside of it.

He shifted into a sea serpent’s shape as he got closer, allowing the mortal the dubious honor of seeing its own doom approaching in the form of almost a kilometer long stretch of scales and fins, far more vast than even the greatest of the sea god’s creatures.

The psychic scent of a mortal in a deep panic, of a fearful and desperate prayer being sent out, made him grin. Then the sea god surfaced in a blast of surf and, in one bite, entrapped the boat and crushed the wooden frame like it was little more than a splinter. The sea god sank below the waves that were pushed up by his arrival, descending into the depths to play with this mortal.

The first thing he did was shrink down from his vast form into something a little more manageable. The scent of fear and terror and faster prayers (too late little mortal. You are in my domain now) made him decide on something that would tease even more terror from it. He chose an enormous shark, one with rows and rows of teeth that oh-so-carefully shredded the boat further, releasing the mortal from it and spitting out the remains of the pathetic ship. 

It flailed in his mouth, and he could feel the texture of feathers and wings. Perhaps the mortal had been bringing birds with it. Feathery little ground-fowl that were so beneath him he could hardly feel their presence. He amused himself in the mortal’s pathetic struggles for a moment longer, before opening his mouth and gulping in an enormous swallow of sea water that washed the mortal down into his gullet. It continued to struggle all the while, and he was starting to really like it’s fear. Just the tiniest hint of useless hope in the center of it to make it persist even when the mortal was all but dead. 

He swam for a long while in the indigo blue deep sea, indulging in the feeling of struggle and burning land-based life in the middle of his domain. But… hm, he could go more with this. The mortal had remained remarkably resilient and active in its useless hope, and he wanted to see if he couldn’t tease out any more reactions from it before it eventually perished.

He started slowly, shrinking from the enormous shark into a massive tuna fish with scales lined in emerald, and felt with it the movements of the mortal get arrested in his stomach. The once large space it had been flailing in had decreased dramatically, and he could tell it was nervous about that. 

Then he shrank further, into an oarfish with trailing fins of gold glitter. Its long snake-like body compressed the mortal further, and it had started struggling again for a different reason than before. The sea god whipped around joyously at the feeling, spurring from his erratic movements another wave of fear. 

Finally, the sea god shrank further still into the form of an elder guardian, its spiny scales shivering and clicking as the size of the mortal within him pushed out against the organs that crowded close around it. He lazily made his way back to the surface, the warm sun once again comforting on his back. He was done with this mortal, and the way it curled up tight within him was satisfying enough that he desired nothing more from it. Soon he would let it die, or descend further into the depths and allow the ocean to crush it more thoroughly than any animal’s stomach could. 

It was there, lying at the surface of the open ocean, shivering alabaster scales as the mortal seemingly never ran out of energy to push on the god around it, that the sea god was interrupted. 

And lo, the sky ripped asunder and the heavens fell and in their wake the Goddess of the Continuation After stepped upon the ocean god’s calm sea, shepherded not by her faithful acolyte.

And She said unto the ocean god -

“Release him from your grasp, he is not yours to take.”

And the ocean god smiled and transformed into an enormous dragonfish, and spoke to Her on the sea breeze.

“Deaths at sea are my domain, dear sister goddess. I do not tell you who not to take on land or sky, you should not insult me to insist you take from my oceans too.”

And She said in return, “that is my messenger and lover, my Angel who harkens my power. I demand his safe return to me.”

And the ocean god said - “wait shit really?”

If he weren’t so caught up in playing with the mortal in such a way, the sea god supposed he would have realized that the feathers that had tickled his mouth had continued to persist, pressed up against a wall of his stomach. Not a simple ground bird’s plumage, but a vast creature’s wingspan. Wings fit for an angel. 

It (he? The god supposed he would need to no longer think of it as a simple mortal) had renewed its struggles with more vigor than even before, hearing its Lady’s voice. 

Despite the sea god’s surprise and Her demands, he felt anger build in him. The angel had been foolish enough to travel his seas, he should accept the risks that are brought with it. She had allowed her attendant worshipper to leave Her all-seeing sight - clearly She didn’t care about it that much. Gods can be territorial over what they own, and clearly this was just a case of the sea god taking a toy that She decided She still wanted.

And so, in his infinite wisdom, the sea god bared jagged glass teeth at the Goddess of What Comes After and refused to relinquish the angel to Her. 

“I am fond of Your angel now. He has travelled with me to the depths of the ocean, and witnessed my power and myriad of beautiful creatures. I think I would like to keep him, dear sister.”

The Goddess raised Her wings of ebony and jet, and scavenging carrion birds that did not belong in the domain of the open ocean fled from Her and trailed into the sky.  She said to the sea god - 

“Do not become a fool, brother god. You will let my Angel go, or I may tear him from your gut. I will scatter your blood to all of the oceans of the world, and let your own creations feast upon you as you have feasted upon what is Mine.”

The sea god dropped his guise of the beasts of the sea, and in the form of a man wrought in gold and emerald he rose from the waters to stand before the Lady of the Lost. The two mighty gods clashed, tearing the sea and sky with their battle as the Goddess seeked to take back what was Her’s and the sea god desired to keep what he had claimed.

Their struggle only ended when the Angel, fearful and hurt by the pain his Lady had received in the fight and the harm that had come to himself from within the sea god, cried out. The Goddess of the Unforgiving Conclusion drew up a vast sword of midnight and tore the sea god open from the back.

From the god’s divine blood, the Angel emerged unharmed from his Goddess’ attack, and fled from the grasp of the wounded sea god into the great swarm of carrion birds that circled above.

The Goddess cast the sea god into the dark depths of the ocean, and wiped her sword of deep black clean. Where the droplets of divine blood hit the earth, all over the world, lay the tiniest portion of the sea god’s power in totems of gold and emerald. Where it hit the sea great pyramids of prismarine grew around it to celebrate its power. Now with his power broken into a thousand pieces, the sea god fled into the depths of the ocean, and he knew himself to be foolish for having tried to fight Her.

He never was quite the same from that day forward. The sea, his domain, was never fully his anymore. The wound along his back, struck to slice his gut open and release the mortal, never truly healed and even in the many shapes of the creatures of the sea it was still visible as a deep black scar. 

In penitence for his childish stupidity he stepped up onto the shores that he had so despised for so long and, in the form of both a shark and a man, he tried to learn about the mortals that lived outside of his open ocean waters for the first time. 

He had been foolish, and as such he didn’t deserve to rule the seas he had before. Perhaps though, one day, he can regain this title. Perhaps he could be reborn into this role, if the Lady so permits.

If the Angel forgives him, he may find his way back to the sea again.

.

.

.

AAAAAAAAAAAA *stimming on my desk* THIS IS SO COOL???? BIO, THIS IS AWESOME OIHUGYUFT I’M HONORED TO POST IT HERE 🤩 HOW?? DO YOU WRITE SUCH MASTERPIECES???? THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING ORIGIN MYTH FOR TOTEMS AND OCEAN MONUMENTS AND FOOLISH!!! I will be thinking about this for days. Incredible uwu Thank you so much for blessing us all ohuigyuty GAh THIS MAKES ME HAPPY!!

[cuddlesslut]

Thank you so much Darling 🥰

NSFW # 10 - we have to be quiet it or theyll here us

FLUFF # 7- stop hogging the blankets 

Ushijima Wakatoshi & Kuroo Tetsuro 

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral, Fingering, slight Daddy and Sir kink, Strong Language, Public Sex

Kuroo Tetsuro  

It was exhilarating the feeling of doing something you weren't supposed to. The Idea of getting caught added on to the to heat pooling inside of you. Your brother would throw a fit if he knew. But laying here naked on your boyfriends bed as his face was buried between you thighs, you could give a fuck about the consequences. You were in heaven. Your hips bucked into his feral assault. Kuroo’s lips wrapped around your clit giving it a harsh suck. his tongue moving down sliding between your folds darting into your entrance. You let out a loud gasp your hands tangling into his bed head as he fucked you with his tongue. you felt your release climbing as you screwed your eyes shut spewing a sling of curses.

“look at me kitty, let me see you come undone for me.”  Kuroo spoke into your quaking cunt. You look down to catch his gaze as his stare bored into you. With one final nip at your sensitive bundle you were thrown into pleasure. As your come drenched his face he eagerly lapped up the juices. Kuroo was at his limits ready to bust just from the beautiful faces and noises you made. He pounced on your exhausted figure capturing your mouth into a searing kiss you could taste yourself on his hungry lips. You could feel his harden length sliding against your soaking entrance. He moved his hip slowly sinking into your tight hole. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders as he stretched you. After a brief moment he started to roll his hips into you his momentum starting to build as he got lost in the holy feeling that was you squeezing tight around him groans leaving his mouth as he was becoming more vocal.

And thats when you hear it. The slam of the heavy front door. “ Hey, Hey, Hey,” echoed through the flat alerting you to your brothers presence. Your body automatically prepared for Kuroo’s retreat but instead he drilled into you harder.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he lost himself in you. “shhhhh Tetsu,” you scolded your usually cautious boyfriend. “ we have to be quiet or he’ll hear us!”

Not stopping Kuroo placed one more heated kiss to your lips “ let him hear i dont care anymore, You are mine,” he said lifting your hips up so he was pounding deeper and harder into you. “this pussy is mine,” he growled  “now scream for me Y/N.” 

.....................

The exhaustion you felt as you laid there next to him was enough to put you to sleep. Chests heaving from the extreme work out you both experienced. You both rolled over to your sides. Kuroo pulled the comforter over both of your still naked figures. He traced his slender finger along your arm and shoulder up your neck causing a slight shudder from the light touches. He brushed the stray hairs out of your face looking deep into your e/c eyes. A huge smile graced as he it dawned onto Kuroo that this right here was what he wanted. 

“ I meant what i said Y/n,” he breathed out nervously ,as smooth as everyone thought he was Kuroo was just as nervous now as he was the first time he kissed you. You looked up at him wide eyed waiting for him to finish his thought. 

“ You are mine, I love you.” he studied your features as he said the sacred words for the first time in your relationship. Your breath hitched not expecting that response just yet. Your heart swelled as you stared at the man you also loved knowing he felt the same. You surged forward crashing your lips to his. He sunk into your embrace feeling at home with you in his arms. 

You pulled back giving a happy sigh, “i love you too Tetsuro,” you sunk back into the bed getting comfy. “should we go face the music,” you asked thinking about that there was no hiding anymore. “Nah, lets rest, im going to need my energy to out run Bokuto,” kuroo laughed. You laid next to him feeling the happiest you have in the longest time. Your eyes started to feel heavy as you looked over to your lover who was already fast asleep light snores already filing the silent room. You felt warm and safe as you drifted off only to be suddenly shocked as Kuroo rolled over taking the blanket with him. “HEY! Asshat dont hog the covers!” you said tugging at the covers. his eyes stayed closed but you saw a slight smile on his face. “Kurooo,” you groaned a little louder than necessary. 

“Y/N !!,” you hear your brother shout. Apparently finally hearing your voice. Kuroo’s eyes snapped as Bo pounded on the door. 

“OH SHIT,” you both cursed looking at each other.  

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

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You see Wakatoshi standing near the locker rooms. But you dont make it to them as he pull you into a supply closet. Quickly locking the door behind him Ushi pushes you against the door lips hungry as he and hands frantic as he grabbed at your body. His breath was hot as he left rough and wet kisses down your neck. his gripped tight on your hips pulling you close into his towering figure. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed his breath husky with frustration. “you should know better than to rile me up before a game.” His large left hand came up to your cheek petting you his rough thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “ do you see what you did to me love?” he asked pressing his oh so large dick ,that was straining inside of his Adlers uniform, against your thigh. A weak moan left you mouth as you felt him. 

“Looks like youre going to have to be a good girl and take care of the problem you caused Sweetie.” he looked down at you eyes dark as he slid his large fingers against your clothed heat. Thank goodness you wore a skirt today. He hooked his fingers inside your frilly panties as he pulled them down your smooth legs having you step out of them, before tucking them into is jacket pocket. Knowing time wasnt on your side he began to pet your pretty pussy feeling how wet you already are. Toshi doesnt say anything about the mess you were already making of yourself he doesnt need to. He knows what he does to you. He slid one of his huge fingers into you knowing he need to make sure you were good and stretched for him. 

“Toshi,” you whimpered as he added another digit. Using both fingers he scissored inside of you feeling to tighten around him as he started to pull you first orgasm from you. You were right there on the edge. When you were suddenly empty. You look up at him pouting at the loss of you release.

“sorry sweetie youre going to have to wait a little longer after being so bad this morning,” he smirked knowing that you were just putty in his hands. He took a step back pulling down his shorts and boxers finally freeing himself. Not wanting to waste the precious time he had he turned you around placing your hands on the door as he bent you over. He bit his lip at the sight of your ass peaking out from under your skirt and your pretty pussy dripping for him. If he had the time hed gladly kiss you down there and make you come on his mouth. But alas not right now. He aligned his throbbing monster of a cock with you soaking entrance. Easing himself in giving you plenty of time to adjust. Hot tears pricked your eyes at how full you felt. Never getting used to how much your boyfriend always filled you.

“Are you ready sweetheart,” he asked as he grabbed your hips tightly. 

“Yes Sir,” you moaned softly. Ushi began his thrust starting with a slow pace before finally slamming himself into you. Causing a choked moan to escape your lips. He began to pound into you furiously, “Aaahh Toosh-,” your loud moan was cut by his hand finding it place over your mouth. 

“Shhhhh love,” he chuckled. “not so loud, we dont want to be caught now do we?” He kept your mouth covered not convinced youd be able to suppress your moans yourself. The rhythm he set was unrelenting. You quickly found yourself on the edge again. Using his free hand the ace rubbed your sensitive bud send your crashing into your intense orgasm. He helped you ride out your high as you clenched around him. Knowing he wouldnt last much longer you knew what to expect as he pulled out and pushed you to your knees before shoving his aching length into your open mouth coming from the sensation of your soft tongue moving around him. Emptying his ls milky load into your beautiful mouth. Swallowing gladly you looked up at him from your spot on your knees. His breath was a little uneven as the pet your h/c hair. 

“ You did amazing Beautiful thank you,” he said helping you to stand and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “i have to go warm ups will be soon” he said holding you tightly. He pulled his clothes up as you straighten out your mess hair. He started for the door.

“Uhh wait Toshi you have my panties still,” you stated. 

He smirked. “i know theyre gunna be my good luck charm,” before leaving to go join his team.

..................

You laid with Ushijima in bed worn out from some post game victory sex. His arm was placed arm your waist and you felt so content. How did you get so lucky to have a man who loved you so much. You were truly blessed. You roll over on to your stomach ready to fall into a nice deep nap, pulling the sheet closer to you. You could feel Wakatoshi sit up slightly ready to start your normal battle that came with sleep. “I dont understand how someone soo small need all of the blankets,” he chuckled starting your usual tug of war battle. 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Taglist: @emiyummy @thosenerdy3amthings

[rouiyan]

𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, <3 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

synopsis: in which the worst christmas ever takes a turn for the better (and it rhymes!)

✧ idol!lee jeno x (fem.) reader ✧ best friends to lovers

✧ genres : fluff →  ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ →  FLUFF ✧ word count : 2.8k ✧ disclaimers : none

✧ author’s note — an impulsively written fic, done in a single one-hour-long sitting, and therefore isn't structured very well and has two or three potential plot holes. was the og christmas special but then 'this shirt of his' decided it wanted to go from 300 words to >10k so there's that. merry early christmas !!

"oh dear, that was not a look," jeno hopes the sarcasm in his voice masks his fear. he's a second too slow when he pulls the photo away from your sight, you've already seen the garish fit, blue jeans with an odd cut and the equally blue long-sleeve paired with thick rimmed glasses and matted hair. haechan steals the photo from behind jeno's back and shoves it your way, a mischievous plot already forming in mind. to his delight, jeno's face grows in horror as he watches you grin excitedly at the picture in your hands. "aww, you were so awkward back then. this one's one of my favorites," jeno flushes deeply at your words, there is not a thing in him that can help it. unearthing the photo albums from their trainee days wasn't his idea. rather, it was yours, also making it so he couldn't help it.

"i think we're done for today," he hurriedly shuts the album in front of him without realizing you were still holding onto the photo. you look as if you were to complain and he's also a second away from opening it up again just to dissipate the frown on your face. instead, you say something a little more horrifying, "then can i keep this one? i like it-"

"no!" he retraces as fast as he'd exclaimed, "i mean- wait, why?"

renjun fakes vomits in the background as you reach up to pat down some of jeno's wild hairs. he's just as sick of this as haechan and the others. rolling his eyes, he watches the scene unfold before him like some monotonous kdrama, the male lead always ends up with the female lead anyways. hand back at your side, you let a giggle erupt from your bearings. jeno's face heats up a little more. "why are you so embarrassed, jen? it's not like i didn't know you back then."

the boy in front of you drags a hand across his neck in attempt to cool down the feverish feeling. "i- i know, it's just-" it's just i've liked you since back then. "i don't know," i've always known that i liked you. "it's nothing, really." what you think of me means the world to me.

jeno blinks once and you're one step closer to him. he debates never blinking again if it means never missing your actions. your hand is warm against his as you slip the picture into his palm, closing his fingers around it. jeno takes note of how your voice is also warm, "then keep it, i don't want it if you're not comfortable with me having it."

the picture lays on his bedside table as he stirs in the dark. the winter is cold and his blankets, though thick and abundant, do nothing to warm his heart, something he knows from experience only your presence can alleviate. 

jeno is more than eager to toss his blankets aside and go back to gaming but he remembers the text you'd sent after you'd gotten back to your place. something like sleep early <3 though he really only remembers the '<3' part for sure. funny enough, that's the one thing that keeps him up all night.

jeno counts one minute this time, only one minute after he'd pressed the 'post' button, until he sees your username and accompanying profile picture pop up in his notifications. the nct instagram account is for all the members' use but he knows that you only follow it to like his posts exclusively. it's totally not as if he'd checked each and every post to see which ones you liked. jeno beams and punches a subtle fist into the air under the counter. unluckily for him, haechan notices. "what, she liked your post again? you know, she liked mine too."

maybe it's actually a lucky happenstance that haechan had noticed. "what?! no, she didn't." jeno dives back into the depths of his phone and scrolls through to find his friend's christmas selfie. haechan only chuckles beside him and upon hearing this, jeno looks up with a slight twitch of his lip, "so you're kidding." taking his empty cereal bowl in both hands, haechan's smile only grows snarkier as he slips off the stool. he claps a hand onto jeno's shoulder, "chin up lover boy, we all know she's only got eyes for you."

jeno clips down a smile as he returns to his own cereal, the flakes now soggy and the milk now gray. he downs it all in three gulps, sets the bowl back on the counter, spoon clattering, and reverts his eyes back onto his phone just in time to see an incoming text from you lighting the lockscreen. merry christmas! i think i might have time to come over later today, like late late. ask the others if that's fine with them. he doesn't ask, he already knows it's fine when he replies not a second afterwards yeah sure, merry christmas to you too, he pauses, taking a breather before sending the next, extremely risky, text, see you later <3.

slamming his phone face down on the counter and jolting upright, the stool almost toppling over, he grabs the bowl with such force that has jaemin in the living room popping his head in to check if he's okay. evidently, he's not. jeno scrubs at the dishes with acute fervor in hopes to mask the embarrassment and oncoming wave of doubt that's sure to overcome him if he doesn't preoccupy his mind with other things. jaemin is just about screaming over the sound of the fifty or so dishes that have been left unwashed for weeks on end. "jeno! jeno, what are you doing?!"

the clanking of tableware ceases. jeno reroutes his mind to focus on tapping his toes as fast as he can as he veers in the direction of jaemin's voice, eyes frantic. the kitchen is silent, save for the gush of water from the sink behind him, though his voice is unnecessarily loud and unnaturally high when he speaks, "i'm washing the dishes."

"yes, i can see, but like- why are-"

he's is cut off by the sound of a ping from jeno's phone on the counter. jaemin is reaching over to check the notification for him when jeno's eyes widen even further and he yanks off the pink rubber dishwashing gloves with a resounding snap and dives for his phone before jaemin can even lay a finger on it. bewildered, jaemin gives a simple, "oh," in realization as he draws back.

you're gonna love my gift, jeno. i just know you will <3

and the dishes stay unwashed. at least they got a good rinse.

late, late turns out to be even later than precedented, for you at least, though you're sure that most the boys are still awake at 2:12 in the morning. it isn't christmas anymore but you lack the attentiveness to care in the state that you are in right now, pressing the buzzer just outside their door rather aggressively and panting in equal fashion. you slump into yourself as your mind glosses over the past day and how horridly it had panned out to be. frustration curls and lashes within your actions and you want nothing more than to just drop their gifts off and leave. 

crouching with both arms still planted taut on the bike, your frustrations seems to take on a path of their own, emitting echoing sobs from your being. the tears slide fast onto the floor beneath with nothing to obstruct their merry way. there, they accommodate each other to form a puddle of sorts, one that you stare intently at as it only seems to grow in size with every hiccup of a sob you give.

startled by the opening of the door in front of you, it's as if you've forgotten why you're here in the first place but upon seeing the boy at the door, your best friend who, by the look of it has been up playing games with heavy bags under his eyes, you don't bother to collect yourself or even conceal your tears. 

"y/n, why are you-" he stops, he can't help the laugh that so naturally comes to him. it really is only natural when the sight before him is so dismally absurd. you have indeed come bearing gifts. one of your arms, or the elbow of it, has a giant bag looped around it, the contents of a dozen or so wrapped oblongs threatening to overflow. both hands situated soundly on the giant bike before you, your whole configuration making it slightly difficult to fit comfortably in the narrow hallway. staring up at him, first confoundingly, you mull over the situation at hand yourself and, in the midst of the tears, you start to laugh as well.

you stand, stretching out the joints in your knees as you shove the bag into his arms and then almost run the bike into his balls, shaking your head in amusement and carelessness as he gives a yelp and a jump of surprise. he takes the bag in his arms and moves to let you in, though his eyes never part from you. simply, there is much that he wants to ask but he doesn't until you are safely put upon his bed and he is safely knelt before you, hands in your lap and also clasped in your hold.

"wanna tell me?" jeno's voice is soft, and comes in waves that both surge and surf your emotions. a lopsided and unmeaning smile graces the left corner of your lips, "tell you what, exactly?"

"the bike, for starters," he leaves a pause for you to chuckle, then goes on, "the time, why you were crying in the hallway...should i go on?" you fiddle with his fingers, his own tracing across your knuckles. the smile your expression stretches a little wider and a little more forlorn. "the bike...you said the chain or something broke on yours-"

"i've could just went to go get it fixed, y/n."

"i know, i know but then there was that one day where you were going on about some bike that you wanted to try out and i kinda just committed it to memory and bought it."

"i- i'm- but that was-" he's having difficulty computing the necessary words to encompass his enthrallment, "that was like four months ago."

"yeah and i was going to go pick it up after work today except…" you lick your lips to suppress another laugh. what had you so troubled just a few minutes ago now seems like a distant memory, "except i got fired," jeno's mouth hangs open, "so i went home first to cry and then i got to the shop like three minutes before it closed and then got into an argument with an employee there and then went home to cry again and then fell asleep and then woke up and remembered i had to get it to you before the end of the day but it was already almost two in the morning so i just said, 'fuck it, imma just go and see what happens,' and, well, here i am." you let it all simmer before closing it up, "that pretty much sums it all up for you, huh."

jeno's lips are slow to crease upwards as he processes all the information. he takes his hands from yours, also slowly, and instead places them on either side of your head. you beam down at him, cheeks flaming and lifting into a mirroring, and this time genuine, smile. he gives your head a little shake back and forth, in disbelief and incredulity all at once, "all that on christmas day?"

the way he pampers you never fails to get your heart pumping and adrenaline running tens of thousands of miles per hour. a smile so wide, your teeth even make an appearance, "all that on christmas day."

"well," both his hands are now on both your knees. he looks up at you with pondering eyes and in his room, only lit by the standing lamp in the corner, simply the sight of him is enough to take your breath away. jeno's thumbs run up and down the beginnings of your shins when his lips part with realization and you follow his gaze to the nightstand where, under his phone and a few other discarded items, lies the picture you'd only been able to catch a glimpse of the other day, yesterday. he stares at it for a little before bringing it to your lap to stare at it a little more. then, he turns it over to you, "will it make you feel better if i give you this?"

taking it from him, jeno has no idea how your smile could get any wider, any prettier, but it does. both his hands are back on both your knees, kneading soft circles into the skin. he wishes you weren't wearing a skirt in such cold weather, though either way you look just as mesmerizing to him. the smallest of a chuckle topples past your lips, your pretty lips, and you look from the picture to him with your eyes, your loving eyes. "i mean," you take another glance at it, "how could it not? you were so cute back then."

"you think so?" is what comes out of his mouth but truthfully, jeno has no idea what he's doing when he gets up upon both knees, now just a little under eye level with you. he has no idea what specific thoughts are spurring him on and he has not the slightest inclination of where this sudden courage is coming from. when lee jeno brings your forehead to his own, with a hand to the back of your neck, he is numbed to the mind and sustained solely on the thrum of his gut. driven by intuition, he doesn't render the flaming of your cheeks odd, nor does he take into account the second-long glance you give to his lips, the same lips that brush the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the heights of your brow, before meeting your philtrums and then, ever-so-carefully, the pinks of your lips.

jeno is intoxicated by how you seem to move in tune with every string of his pent up desires. he doesn't give a second thought as to why, or even how, it happens; he just knows that it's because it's you, that if anyone else were to kiss him in the same way you were doing now, he'd be missing out on the very feeling that renders him speechless, dumbfounded, bewildered, awestruck, and lovestruck all at once. pulling back just a bit, your fingers graze over the line of his jaw as you mumble a soft, "merry christmas," into his lips. jeno paces himself to ensure he doesn't stumble over his words, "be mine?"

the second kiss answers the question he's been keeping to himself since he was fifteen.

you're awake when he falls asleep, a stupid smile still plastered on that face of his and you would've had enough mind to tease him about it later, were the same smile not on your own face. you're still awake about half an hour later when jeno stirs in his sleep, though instead of moving away from you, he only holds you tighter. however, you're asleep when he awakens a few hours later, a hand coming up to groggily rub at an eye as he reaches out for his phone only to realize that he doesn't need to check his messages. how could you have texted him when you're right there, in his arms?

he only checks his messages in the hour after you leave, and even then in his manager's car on the way to some filming site, jeno blushes, madly.

i forgot to say yes <3

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — ok i KNOW the fic kinda goes 📉📉 but i only really planned for the first two scenes and was like...now what — and just wrote whatever came to mind afterwards. i hope it's not too disappointing for my first off hiatus fic but whatever mans, i'm over it! anyways, i hope you still enjoyed some parts of it and i'll have you know, i'm very glad to be back. (WILL I STOP IT WITH THE BSF2L FICS? WILL I??), rouiyan.

[onyourzeus]

it just is | pjh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: it just is pairing: park jaehyung (jae of day6) & you genre: angst with a happy ending words: 4.2k

author’s note: this took a few days to write because i wanted to approach it with sensitivity, and some realism from personal experiences. as i get to know jae as an artist, a day6 member, and a person even more, i feel so grateful for his music and his vulnerability that oftentimes is met with differing opinions from other people. i wanted to express that in this fic, and i hope i did the genre justice. 

content warning: discussions of online hate, criticism, feelings of worthlessness, coping through them

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

You don’t get it— or maybe you do. You’ve been given criticism before; on a powerpoint presentation, college-level essays, exams with written solutions needed, even for work performances. It has its benefits, having other qualified people observe you through their own lenses. It makes you notice the errors in your answers, mispronunciations, and flaws in your work ethic you wouldn’t have been able to catch if you were tasked to evaluate yourself. 

There’s a difference however, in the ways that you’ve experienced being given criticism and the way Jae has. 

He gets criticized. Instead of firm and blunt observations that he needs to take into consideration, and adjust when necessary, he isn’t given a room for improvement. He just receives these words with a punch to the gut, a slap on his face, and it stings. A whole damn lot. 

You think about the unfair times you were given criticism for work or a task that you originally thought was executed decently enough, at least for your standards. But that’s the point of being handed blunt feedback, is to let you realize that you can reach higher than this, go beyond what you previously had shown to others or even to yourself. 

Criticism given to you over the years had always spared space for you to reflect, and grow with it. It was always supposed to be a weapon for you to take into your own hands, and wield it yourself. It was never meant to attack you full force, and leave you bleeding with no help in sight. 

So maybe you do get it, but also you never really will when it comes to Jae. 

Either way, you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t pick up the phone at a time when everyone in the city should be fast, fast asleep. When people have already drifted off into a deep slumber that enables them to dream beautiful things. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you wouldn’t ride your bicycle so late at night which you absolutely abhor. The cold air hitting your face as you speed up against its current is rarely a welcomed feeling, but that was the least of your concerns as you turned the corner to his apartment. 

When it comes to Jae, your mind hums a low beep, static noise to blaring fire alarms and resounding thoughts in an instant. 

You don't think much of it, however. He's just another friend, one who is in need. 

You never truly believed he could be alright by himself, but you wanted to give him a chance. Now, hearing his voice crack through your phone followed by the connection breaking apart, you struggle to forgive yourself for letting him be. Even for just a little bit. 

There wasn’t a need to knock, but you’re worried Jae may have forgotten he even called you in hesitation in the first place. In order to avoid spooking him, you make your presence known more clearly in the darkness. 

“Jae, it’s me. I’m coming into your room.” 

The door squeaks lightly, but the view isn’t any different. It remains dark, and lifeless in here. Stepping inside, the air just got a little bit heavier, and Jae’s breathing sounds more difficult that you began feeling aware of your own heart rate speeding up.

Retracing your steps from the multiples times you’ve been here, you get to the small lamp he barely uses on his desk. You turn it on the lowest brightness setting, giving the room a bit more dimension. It gives you a better view of Jae laying down on his bed, eyes staring into the ceiling. His hands support the weight of his head, lifting it up from the sheets. 

He sniffles for a split second, and your heart thuds like a mic stand dropping on the floor at an empty stadium. 

“Hey,” you approach him, careful not to be too loud with your movements. 

The mattress dips from the weight of your body, and Jae slightly shuffles to the side to give you room. The side of your lips twitch in response as you make yourself comfortable laying down next to him.

For the next few minutes, no one talked. 

Not even a hello back from him, and that’s new. 

It’s… concerning, to say the least. Even in his most stressful days, you’d stop by his place knowing it’d annoy him but the sight of you and the smell of homemade spam musubi never fails to brighten up his mood. 

He doesn’t forget to tell you that, and it makes you feel needed. 

Taking in a deep breath, you look at him in the corner of your eye. He’s not asleep, although his eyes flutter back and forth from keeping it trained to the ceiling and drooping it ever so slightly. You squint further, noticing dried streaks of tears blurring onto his skin. 

Your voice shakes. "Tell me where it hurts, Jae.”

You will yourself to resist your own choked out sobs. You’re not even sure what the issue was today. It’s always different, as if they have a giant wheel reserved just for him that someone gets to spin for their own pleasure. 

Sometimes it lands on the same, debunked misunderstanding. Other times, you’ve become shell-shocked at how quick they fill in the blanks with made-up accusations for the sole purpose of hurting him even more.

None of it makes sense, and what angers you the most is the fact that Jae made you promise not to interfere. You hate that he used that word with you, promise me, please? because both of you know the importance behind them, especially when said between the two of you.

Did he change his mind tonight? Did it suddenly become too much to bear that breaking the very promise he asked of you was his last resort for help? 

“Tell me,” you repeat with more determination now than overwhelmed nerves. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jae answers, cold and empty. 

Any other day that you pester him with a makeshift therapy session, you’d take that as a challenge. But tonight, his words linger in the air and you can’t shake off the goosebumps on your skin. 

Maybe he’s right; at this point, shouldn’t you be more irritated than concerned? If he’s not willing to at least describe how inflicting the pain must be with every word online stabbed into him, why do you bother cleaning up the mess? 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because you’re not me. They say those things because it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Jae—" 

You have the script memorized, the tirade of counterpoints to every blame shifted upon himself, but tonight you stop the words spilling from your mouth. 

You turn your body towards him, hands folded underneath your cheek, a lone tear falling from your right eye.

“Do you believe them?” You ask, and the pause in Jae’s staring doesn’t go unnoticed. 

He finally looks at you directly, ever since laying down beside him on his bed. With his body still laying flat, he turns his head to face you, his lips pressed together roughly. 

You elicit a tsk sound, ignoring the amount of time that has passed since your question. Your fingers meet the cracked skin on his lips as you gently pry them off of each other. It’s wet, and the bright ring of blood doesn’t surprise you. Instead, you wipe it away, pulling your hand back to smear it off your shirt. 

At some point, Jae mouths you a sorry but you don’t acknowledge him. Just as he’s obviously avoiding your own query.

“You’re not sleeping well,” it was more a fact than another question thrown at him. You reckon he’d be more cooperative with you if you say it how it is without him denying openly obvious things. 

“You’re only drinking dubious cups of coffee in a day with one meal in between, at the most.”

“I haven’t had an appetite recently.”

“But you’d cater to your growing caffeine addiction more so than bring your appetite back?” 

You don’t want to sound mean, but the stress lines forming on your forehead aren’t helping with your attempt to ease into the conversation more slowly. 

Jae sighs, and it’s one of his many signs that entails he wants to move on, talk about something that is less targeting his questionable behavior and more mundane shit that doesn’t fit into the mood of the room at all. 

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

Unexpectedly, you look back at him and answer with a hint of surprise, “You think so low of me.”

Jae laughs, and for a moment the room became brighter. Just a little bit. 

“Dude, do you know what time it is?” 

“Yes, do you?” It was a rhetorical question, but you’re sort of glad he’s not just staying silent anymore. “I don’t have class in the morning. Even if I did, I’d still be here. Just cursing you out more for making me bike in the cold.” 

“It’s because you don’t wear enough layers, dummy,” Jae points out, pointing at the lack of thick clothing covering your upper body. 

Your first instinct is to flick his forehead, nudge him by the shoulder, and call him a fool. How can you even think of yourself that way when you receive a call from someone whose voice was on the verge of tears? 

But you let it go for now, it’s not like he’ll believe you. It’s not like it matters. 

“I still haven’t gotten my From Friends merch, Jae,” you taunt him and he laughs once more. Slowly, you feel his mood change from dreary to a few degrees warmer as he sits up on the bed. 

You follow his lead, keeping your knees close, chin resting atop them. You’ll humor him for right now, it’s probably best that you don’t force his feelings out in the open as unwanted as they may be. He might not allow you in the future if you do.

“You can have one of mine. They gave me a ton from the first test batches,” he offers, leaning into you as if to convince you even more. 

“I’m seriously gonna hold you onto that. I’m not leaving your apartment tonight without a sweater or two,” you respond, darting your tongue out. Normally, Jae would reciprocate, and if he’s feeling even riskier, inch his face towards yours for shock value. 

Tonight, he’s definitely acting differently than normal. Especially with what he says right after is not something you’d expect from Jae. 

“Don’t leave tonight.” 

“I—” 

“Just for tonight?” Jae pleads, gaze fully on yours now. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but… I’m really, really glad you came. I wouldn’t know what… I’m just.. lost and I don’t know what else to think. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I’ll stay,” you reassure him, not entirely sure what this entails. 

This doesn’t feel like those nights you’d be here for sleepovers countless of times before. Those nights were planned, prepared, and eventually ends up with Jae sleeping on the couch and you hogging his bed, as per your request (yet he willingly lends you his blanket). 

Maybe two, three hours at best— this was the amount of time you believed you’d stay. You’ll listen to him vent, or just sink into the silence with him. Either way, you knew your presence can only soothe his pain temporarily, and he won’t say it out loud so you show yourself out the door voluntarily. 

He wouldn’t protest, just hug you goodbye and ask that you text him when you get home. 

You awkwardly stretch out your legs, placing your hands on your thighs. Swallowing a nervous breath, you let out, “So, um, do you want to talk about it, pal… or…” 

All of a sudden you can’t comprehend a single word you’re saying, while Jae just stares at you amusingly, his lips in a tight smile waiting to burst out in giggles. 

“I’m trying to comfort you here!” you whine, pouting at the way he’s making fun of you. “When you suddenly ask me to stay just like that, it makes it… weird!”

“I’m sorry,” Jae chuckles airily, carding a hand through his ruffled dark brown locks. “It’s fun for me when I’m not the butt of the joke,” he continues on, tone spiraling to that of seriousness again. 

“Is it something incredibly absurd again? What was it? What happened?” 

Jae shakes his head. “The words don’t matter.” 

You argue back, “Yes, they do. It’s what hurts the most.” 

You’ve seen the tweets, sometimes even the hashtags and you wish there was a way to mass report the whole app altogether, and throw it all away in the trash. But Jae reprimands you for overreacting, even if you catch him smiling at the suggestion. 

“Debatable,” he sighs outwardly, clasping his hands together and resting them in between the wall and the nape of his neck. “A lot of them are just empty words, sure, but the pain they inflict is something else entirely.” 

There’s something about the way Jae speaks about criticism thrown at him that makes you frustrated. 

It’s not a secret that there isn’t an ounce of defensive vein in you when you’re at the receiving end of people finding faults in your work, your character. You believe humans are overprotective of who they think they are, they’ve become, as much as they like to hide it. 

But with Jae, he sounds way too calm and composed for your liking. Ironically so, since he mentions pain. Perhaps this is his coping mechanism, take them as they are, unembellished and oftentimes hurtful. 

But it doesn’t have to be that way, because the more he speaks of them so nonchalantly, the less his eyes sparkle and show his true feelings. 

Your eyebrows crease even further, examining Jae’s facial features that remain still and unmoving, giving attention to anything else in his line of sight but you. 

“A lot of them are false accusations, you don’t have to accept what you think is false.”

“Are they, though? To an extent, I think it shows what others perceive of me on a daily basis.” 

“So you’re saying you do believe what they say about you?” 

“At this point,” Jae starts off, stretching his arms upwards before crossing them against his chest languidly. He looks tired. “What else do I believe in? You know when the negativity becomes so loud in your head, I can’t explain it, but the words that tell me to keep going get muddled and overpowered by everything that screams I’m not enough?” 

You’re not sure whether to respond. 

It doesn’t seem like anything you say can add value to his confession. You look down on your hands, not knowing what to do with them so you keep them intertwined. It’s sweaty, yet the buzzing of his air conditioner fills the air. For some reason, you can’t stop your heart from pounding heavily inside you either. 

In a way, it’s possibly because of the realization that all you can offer Jae is an ear to listen to. All you can offer him is your body warmth hopefully exuding onto him, having the presence of another person in his space just to ensure that someone is listening to what he has to say. When no one else seems to let him do so online.

But you want to be more, you have wanted to be so much more. You wish your hands can extend themselves to his, pull him closer so he can hear your heart beating desperately for him. If it had a morse code of its own, it would have confessed the love you feel for him all this time. 

It’s gone quiet again, so you slowly lift your head to sneak a peek at him. His eyes are closed, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with unwanted thoughts fogging his brain. 

Great, the guilt makes it way on your shoulders, weighing you down with it. He asks you to stay, you don’t believe his sincerity, and when he’s opened up so much in one night, you lack the response he needed to hear. 

“If it means anything, I don’t believe them. You have your share of dumb moments, sure, but who hasn’t? If they figured out how much stupid shit I have said or done in my lifetime, I don’t think I’ll have a career ever again,” you mutter, mostly to yourself now. 

Your mind wanders back to those times that you’ve made yourself look like a fool in front of Jae, and he still holds you against them to this day. 

“Remember when I said owls were the cutest animals ever? And then I saw a tumblr post of what their legs looked like underneath all of those feathers? I felt so betrayed,” you recall out loud, snickering at times the group chat you shared with Jae and your mutual friends consisted solely of those creepy baby owl pictures that have surfaced on the internet-- seemingly their only purpose was to torment you with the truth.

You had posted your intense distaste of the animal on your Twitter, rather proudly even. It was a good thing your account was private, but the shame you felt was too intense to keep it on your profile for too long so you ended up deleting it, anyway. 

But imagine if someone had somehow saved that tweet and called you out for being cruel towards unsuspecting birds? 

“Or the time I got so drunk, I basically roasted all of your solo songs, calling them the national anthem of a hopeless romantic who will never find the love they’ve been praying for?” This was before It Just Is with Seori, and it was a dare that Younghyun had given you as payback for making him act out a lovey-dovey manhwa scene with Dowoon. 

You think, if their supporters heard that out of context, you’re most likely toast. 

Understandably, these are all a stretch, and at the end of the day, you’re not as famous as Jae. And if anything, the “roast” you had blurted out was completely inaccurate of what you actually think of his solo projects. 

A projection, if you will, of your own feelings. If anyone in your circle of friends wears the title of a hopeless romantic, the crown has been glued to your head since meeting Jae. 

“I’m not making any sense,” you say, rubbing your cheeks for comfort while watching Jae just doze off into the night. You weren’t sure if he still needed you to stay, but you’d feel it would be amiss if you left. 

You begin to shuffle your way off the bed to give yourself more space to think about your next move until you feel Jae’s hand reach for yours, and squeeze it tight. 

“I didn’t say you can go,” he mumbles sleepily, eyes still fluttered close. Yet his lips are smiling, almost as if he’s dreaming lightly. If that were the case, you humor him, and let his hand fall into yours. You like it that way, too. 

“Did you hear what I just said two minutes ago?”

“No,” he lies. 

“Mhm,” you hum, slowly making your way on the bed again. This time, you sit next to him, his sweatpants clad thigh leaning against your leggings. Your hands still held together, albeit loosely, he lifts it up as if to examine it with droopy eyes. 

“Thanks, though. Oddly enough, that made me feel a little better,” he admits. “Except for that time you said hated my songs. I don’t think I’m letting that go easily.”

“I was apologetic, and it was a dare! I offered you food for a week,” you protest, shaking his hand off but he doesn’t budge. He keeps it in his palms, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

A blush escapes on your cheeks, pink and warm, and most definitely as a result of your nerves getting the best of you. 

“True,” he recalls, and tilts his head to the side inquisitively, “but it sounded like you really meant it…”

“Jae, you know that’s not true. I literally stream them on soundcloud almost every day,” you say a matter-of-factly, but regret it since it wasn’t something that he had no knowledge about before tonight. He pulls your hand closer to his chest, and excitedly beams at you. 

“No way?” He exclaims, and you have no choice but to confirm, a helpless pout on your face. “Yeah, I listened to it on the way here.” 

“My number one fan, huh,” he coos, tracing the lines on your palm. You gulp hard, knowing how much sweat your hands had accumulated since meeting his touch. You really don’t want him to notice, but the soothing caress of his fingers felt better than not anything else in the world. 

“Whatever floats your boat, dude,” you try to brush it off, and Jae nods animatedly. 

You try your best not to appear sleepy as a yawn finds its way out your lips. Jae notices this, and sadly lets go. Then, he taps on his shoulder, the one right next to you. 

“Sleep, my child.” 

“Never call me that. Ever again.”

“Don’t be dramatic, and just lean in,” he insists, cradling your head until you plop down on him. 

It feels awkward, angled a bit on the uncomfortable side. But he adjusts for you, and you feel your body giving in to the source of support for your weary mind. 

“I can sleep on the couch—”

“Shh, no more talking.” 

Silently, you roll your eyes and say nothing more. Your fingers fiddle with each other once again, remembering how much of Jae’s skin slid next to yours, and now your cheek is pressed down on his frame. 

Again, this isn’t the first time it’s happened, but the events leading up to this particular night is all new to you. You allow your body to get comfortable, used to this feeling, even if it’s just tonight. 

Your original plan was to be Jae’s shoulder to lean on, but the roles seem to have reversed. 

Softly, Jae calls your name. For a second, you’re too immersed in the synchronized breathing the two of you share. When he brings your hand into his, your senses perk up but you refuse to look into his eyes; afraid of what he might see in yours. 

“What? You said no more talking.” 

“I’m happy you’re here,” he tells you, even softer than before as your hands melt together, filling the spaces between. You don’t know whether to let this happen, not understanding the meaning behind his actions. 

It’s.. weird, unknown, foreign, but addicting. His touch is addictive, and you know you’re going to crave for more if you’re not careful with the dosage. 

Biting your lip, you struggle to reply. He might mean it in a friendly way, but the invitation to relax right onto his shoulder, lacing your fingers as if they’re meant to be locked in place that way, it’s all too much for your brain to process— and definitely your heart. 

Face hot, heart heavy with emotions, you say shakily, “I’m happy you asked me to.”

“Hm?”

“I.. want to be the person you call first when you’re feeling like shit. If possible, I want to be the only person.” There was no going back, no swallowing words you’ve let go in the open. 

As you speak, Jae’s fingers tighten its grasp around yours. You feel weak, but you appreciate him supporting you this way as you keep going. 

“I probably will never understand what it is you feel when certain words pierce through you too deep, like you said. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I want to know how you’re feeling, from good to bad. From the best and the worst of it all. I want to be there.”

“Who said you aren’t?” Jae’s low voice interrupts your stream of emotions, and it compels you to finally see his eyes. They’re shining, teary, and smiling at the same time. 

You feel your cheeks soaking wet, and a hiccup arises out of your lips. With your free hand, you hide half of your face in embarrassment. Two idiots, crying together, hands never letting go of each other. 

It didn’t seem long until you fell asleep on his bed. The only difference this time, from all the other times you’ve been here, Jae was sleeping beside you. 

Arms over your frame, his long fingers finding their permanent place within yours. The two of you have exhausted your emotions enough that night, and there was plenty of time in the day to talk it all through. 

You dream of what seems to be a possible future for you and Jae. Moments when he’d fuck up, when you’d say something out of pocket, but it was met with a healthy discussion between you. 

And even if there are days when people online couldn’t understand the growth happening in his life, you see it. You see him, and you don’t hesitate to forgive, and give him space to grow. As he does with you.

[desperationandgin]

Strawberry Wine - The Final Chapter

Also Read on: AO3

Summary: The end ❤️

A/N: When I started this story, I really didn't think it would take this long to finish! At one point, I posted that it would likely stay an unfinished story forever. But inspiration came in the form of a gifted mood board and playlist, and here we are, at a conclusion. I'm so grateful for everyone who was still interested and came back to read through the end, and I'm so happy that first-time readers have enjoyed it as well!

Thank you to every single person who let me throw the google doc for these chapters at them. To Kris, Danielle, Saba, Beth, Erin, Julia, and Katie - you pushed me in incredible ways and I'm very lucky to have you all. And last but certainly not least, a major shout out of thanks and appreciation to Susan for taking the time to make the playlist that inspired the end of Strawberry Wine. One random gesture meant so much to me that it made me write. I'll always remember that.

Chapter 16: Green on the Vine (Epilogue)

I stood on the front steps of our home, taking in the rolling hills on the horizon beyond the farm. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay, relieved to know that Lallybroch’s most recent harvest was finished, making the air feel light and carefree. Around me were the noises of family, children shrieking and laughing. I smiled as I heard a loud giggle of surprise and knew that Jamie had swept up one of them, carrying them like a sack of potatoes.

“Gran!”

I looked up, shielding my eyes from the setting sun as our fourteen-year-old granddaughter made her way up the drive, pushing her bicycle.

“What are you doing here before your parents?” I asked, pleased to see her and reaching out for an embrace once she was close enough. She was taller than her mother, but my dark curls had passed on brilliantly.

“I wanted to talk to you and Grandda. Is he busy?”

I shook my head, looking curiously down at a large manila envelope she held in her hands.

“Never too busy for you,” I promised, leading her inside and calling for Jamie. “Your younger cousins are keeping him entertained.”

When the three of us were settled in the living room, I watched Mandy, realizing she had, unfortunately, also inherited my glass face.

“Is everything alright?” I prodded gently, feeling Jamie tense beside me at the prospect of something being wrong.

“Everything’s fine,” she promised quickly, then hesitated as her hands moved to open the envelope. “Only, I’m doing a project for school. About World War Two.”

Without thinking much of it, my fingers found Jamie’s, holding onto him. It was a lifetime ago, it seemed, those years that we’d gone to war and been separated. As Mandy pulled the contents of her envelope out, I saw my own slanted penmanship and froze, realizing what she held in her hands before she had the chance to explain.

“Mama and I had to prove that these belonged to our family. They’re letters, Gran. The ones ye wrote to Grandda during the war. I wanted to surprise ye wi’ them.” She passed them over and I reached out, holding the weight of our family’s past in my hands and swallowing heavily. For a few seconds, I could say nothing, remembering how desperate my words had become in some of my correspondence.

“I haven’t read any of them,” Mandy promised. “I wasn’t sure how to give them to ye.”

“Darling, you have no idea what a gift this is,” I promised her sincerely, though my voice shook, handing the stack to Jamie so that I could stand and wrap our granddaughter in a hug.

It wasn’t as firm as it once might have been, but I squeezed for all I was worth, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After I released her, she turned to Jamie and bent down to kiss his cheek before disappearing to find her older cousins. Soon, everyone would arrive for Sunday supper, but for now, it was just Jamie and I in the room, the bundle of letters in his lap.

“Ye wrote so many times,” he said quietly, and I pushed a strand of faded copper hair behind his ear.

“I’d wager you wrote just as much. And if my letters were still out there…”

“Aye,” he murmured. “Mine could be, as well. Somewhere.”

It didn’t matter anymore, I thought. We’d shared more between us in half a century than we could have ever fit into letters.

I tugged one of the envelopes free, running my fingers over faded and smeared ink.

“Will ye read it to me?”

“Jamie,” I began, looking at him. “Are you sure?”

He reached for me, and as I curled against his side, I felt him nod and kiss the top of my head. “Aye. I’m sure, Sassenach.”

I pulled out the letter and unfolded it carefully, almost able to hear the sound of practice shots being fired as I wrote it decades ago; the smell of unwashed men and the vibration of military vehicles came back to mind easily. Wetting my lips, I began to read, surprised by how steady my voice was.

“Dearest Jamie,

I’m trying not to panic. I’m trying to calm my own fears by hearing you attempt to soothe me.

‘’Tis war, Sassenach,” you would say if you could. “And letters aren’t exactly a priority.” I know. I know that you’re fighting, that they could send you somewhere with no notice and no way to tell me. But I still can’t help dreading each month that passes without hearing from you. It’s been three now, and I thought perhaps, if you’re too exhausted to write, I could give you something to look forward to instead. When you receive this, if you receive it, you will know I still cherish and want the life we promised one another.

I’ve thought about the number of children you’d like, and four is a good, even number, don’t you think? There’s no telling on gender, but the first boy and our first girl should be named after your father and my mother respectively. Your father will be so proud, toting around his namesake. I hope that my mother would be proud; I think she would. After that, I wouldn’t mind having a wee Jamie. Perhaps even an Elizabeth.

We’ll see.

Today, I met a Scot who was raised in Aberdeen. He sounded so much like you that I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it was. That wouldn’t have been good for the infection in his arm I was attempting to take care of. I wanted it to be you so badly, Jamie.

Where are you?

If I don’t hear anything from you, then I’m going to write to Lallybroch. I don’t want to, I didn’t want to worry your father or Jenny unnecessarily, but if something’s happened to-”

I paused in my reading, the train of thought scribbled through. It was only then that I realized Elizabeth was in the room, her older sister beside her, and their younger brother was cradling our newest grandchild in the doorway.

“Keep going, mama,” Julia encouraged, smiling softly when I looked up at her.

“Aye, Sassenach,” Jamie murmured beside me, squeezing my free hand.

I had no idea how the letter would end, but continued, keeping hold of Jamie while the paper shook slightly as I read once more.

“When the war is over, we’ll pick up our pieces and begin again, Jamie. Wherever we happen to be, whatever we’ve seen and done, we’ll still have our adventures, our life. Think of the days you’ll come home only to find me waiting for you, a child in my arms, and later, children running to greet you. Our home will be warm and filled with a life the war couldn’t take from us. It’s trying, I know it is, but I refuse to give up on what we planned. What we’ve dreamed of together. When this letter reaches you, whether you write back or not, know that you promised me, James Fraser.

Don’t let this be the one you break.

I love you. I will always love you.”

I finished quietly, folding the letter back into the envelope and remembering how desperate I’d been for anything, any scrap of news, any information on where he might have been.

“You did it, Mam. You and da.”

I turned to look at Brian, giving our son a watery, wobbly smile.

“Listen, Sassenach,” Jamie urged, pulling me close so that I could rest my head on his shoulder. As his fingers moved through the silver of my curls, I closed my eyes and did as he asked. There was the quiet fussing of Brian’s daughter, Clara, and the quiet but thumping bass of one of Julia’s children listening to music too loudly a room over. Each one of our hopes and dreams stood under this roof, and I smiled as I let it bring me peace.

I knew for certain, even after all of the pain, death, and heartbreak we’d endured...in the end, the war had taken nothing from us.

It had only made us stronger.

[frenchmarshmalloww]

For those who were sad over my last post, here is a bit more angst but it gets better, promise :)

The timeline is kind of hazy, a sort of post S2 in terms of timing of the relationship but without the actual events of S2. OK it doesn't make any sense, just read lol.

The rules of tricking

I stand there, lost in thoughts, admiring the man laying on the couch in front of me. His body still makes my heart beat faster, a work of art if I ever saw one. Oh, how I wish I could be immune to it by now. Life certainly would be easier for me if I had been able to just get it out of my system. To just fuck him out my head, of my heart.

“Justin”

He startles me out of my musings, eyes on me from his position on the couch, hands in the hair of the trick blowing him. Not wanting to be left out any longer, I come closer, bend over the armrest of the couch and run my hands over his chest, play with his nipples. Brian sighs contently, music to my ears. I look at the other man straddling his thighs. He’s pretty hot, perfectly fitting the rules I secretly follow when choosing them. Hot enough that Brian would want to fuck them, not hot enough that I would not want him to fuck them. It’s a tight rope but I manage.

I remember clear as day, the night we came up with this new deal.

For the umpteenth time, we were coming home from Babylon fighting. I had caught Brian in the backroom fucking some twink, or was I the one being fucked? It doesn’t really matter I guess. Once in the loft, neither of us wanted to back down until, and boy was I stunned when it happened, Brian took the first step.

“Look Justin, this is getting really old. We have to find a way to just handle this better. How about some rules?”

“Rules? Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know… No tricking in front of each other for starters, no tricks in our bed, and we have to be home by 2AM every night.”

Seemed to me like he knew very well what he meant by rules. Apparently, he’d been thinking about it for a while. Still reeling from our fight though, I didn’t want to be amicable. So, like a five-year-old I stumped my theoretical foot and said “How about no tricking at all?”. It was worth a shot, right?

The look he gave me told me all I needed to know, so I switched gears rapidly. If he wanted a negotiation, then I had to come up with a proposition of my own.

“How about the total opposite?”

“What, like more tricking? Justin, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, I meant opposite to your proposition. Here’s my counter offer. We trick together, I pick them, we get them here and then we share them. No one on one, no repeat.”

I should have taken a picture of his face at that moment. The perfect mix of surprise, awe and lust. Yes, I had him.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“OK.”

“OK.”

That was 4 months ago, and since then, we’ve shared guys about once a week. I guess I thought Brian would get tired of it at some point, that he would break the rules and I’d have to go back to watching him fucking anything that moves, but he seemed to enjoy it and we’ve never talked about it again.

Back in the moment, I glance at the pretty brunette blowing my … Brian. He’s very enthusiastic, too much if I say so and I need to reassert my control over the situation.

“Don’t you dare make him come” I snap.

Brian scoffs below me and says “Not a chance, babe”. Cocky bastard. I would have believed him too if it wasn’t for the way his voice broke on that last word, betraying how turned on he already was. Stupid trick.

I bend lower to catch his mouth with mine. The angle is all weird, being upside down, but somehow it makes the kiss better, filthier, sexier. I deepen it, pressing more of my weight onto him, until I feel his hand pushing urgently at my shoulder. I break the kiss and look at him questioningly. That’s the moment I realize he’s having trouble catching his breath. I must have been crushing his airways and he has to take big gulps of air now. I’m about to apologize when I notice how dark his eyes have gotten, how harder his dick is in the other’s mouth.

Smirking, I say to him “You liked it”. He plays dumb, of course. “What?”

“Don’t lie to me Brian” He never has, I don’t want him to start now.

“OK, yeah” then in a breath “Please”.

“Please, what?” I know I’m enjoying this way too much, but damn, it’s not often that I get that kind of dominance over Brian fucking Kinney.

“Please do it again” he reluctantly asks. Not ever having been able to deny him, I comply and for the next minutes, it feels like it’s just the two of us again.

Later, after we relocated ourselves on the bed, I find myself watching Brian prepping the other guy to get fucked. He’s got two fingers inside of him, and the pretty boy is already writhing under him. He’s still clear headed enough to stroke my cock so there’s still that. Once he’s ready, Brian pulls him up on his hands and knees, puts on a condom and enters him in one swift motion. The trick moans loudly and although I hate it, the sound makes me harder. Having Brian Kinney fuck you is a religious experience, it’s hard to focus on anything else. I’m this close to patting him on the cheek and say I understand how he feels. I let Brian get into a rhythm before I slide myself under them and shove the trick’s dick in my mouth. I’m not giving my best, it’s been a while since I did, but apparently Brian is putting in enough efforts for the both of us because the pretty boy is losing his mind, crying out loudly.

Few instants later, I feel Brian’s eyes on me. I know what he wants, same as always. He wants me to look at him when he comes. As if that would make what we’re doing more normal. I usually comply. Anything to pretend that it’s just the two of us. But tonight, I can’t. If he looks into my eyes, he’ll see. He’ll see all the things I’m not saying, all the things I don’t want him to know. That I cannot stand it anymore. That all I feel at this moment is disgust and sadness. So, I close my eyes to avoid his and I suck harder. I want this to be over already. I don’t have to wait long. A few deep thrusts in his ass and the trick is coming down my throat, taking Brian with him few seconds later. I swallow it all, out of habit at this point, and as soon as I feel his cock start to soften in my mouth I get up and leave. They are both catching their breath as I make my way to the bathroom. Glancing down I realize I am not even hard anymore.

I take a quick shower, trying to make it last long enough for the intruder to be gone when I get out of the bathroom. I perfected my timing so well over time that as I step out of the shower, I hear the door open and close. I dry up quickly, tying a towel around my waist and I get out of the bathroom. Halfway to the bed I walk around Brian, standing there only wearing his jeans, top button undone. I don’t stop, eager to put this all night behind me. He won’t let me though. He catches my wrist and pulls me into him.

“Hey, don’t.” The softness of his voice just about breaks me. I have to push through though, if I want to keep him, I need to play by the rules, he’s made that much clear.

“Don’t what?” I try. I know I am not fooling him, but I’ve been trapped in this role so long I don’t even know how to be anything else now.

He sighs deeply then lets me go and looks at me. I am not sure I know how to read his eyes. Is that pity? Suddenly panic is rising inside me. I went too far, I let him see and now he’s going to get rid of me. It happened before, when I started caring too much. It’s always the same with us. He tells me not to expect anything and I don’t for a while, and then I start to want more, and he pulls away, saying he won’t give me what I want, what I need. I leave, certain I will be better off without him, yet every time I come back, surer than ever that what he has to give is enough if it means I get to be with him. And again, and again. Except this time, he seems to be the one wanting me gone and the thought of not being able to come back to him makes my eyes burn.

“You’re unhappy.” He states. And I know where this is going, so I lie through my teeth. “No, I’m not. Look I’m sorry I wasn’t really into it tonight; this guy wasn’t really doing it for me I guess. I need better standards.” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

“Justin, we have to stop this.”

No, no, no, no, please don’t.

“Don’t worry Bri, next time will be extra hot, I swear. Might go for a blond next time. You’d like that right?” I try flirting. I never go for blonds. The only blond that gets to be fucked by Brian should be me.

“Justin, stop! There won’t be a next time.”

That’s when my heart breaks. I feel it in my chest, it’s being torn apart and shred to pieces. Then suddenly, as if something jumped started my system, I have to move, to run. I cannot be here anymore. I cannot look at him, still in the fucking afterglow of coming in this guy’s ass and see anything else than the pain of losing him, for good I suspect this time. I walk to the couch and start putting my clothes back on. When I’m dressed I grab a bag and go to the closet, I take whatever I come across, some might not even be mine, but all I think about is how I need to get out of here and fast.

A few minutes later, I’m making my way to the door when Brian stops me with a strong grip.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting out of here before you kick me out.”

He looks at me puzzled. Then something clicks in his mind and he smiles. The bastard is smiling at me when all I want is to be alone, so I can break down in peace.

“Justin, I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was we need to stop with the tricks.”

“OK… “ I am really confused at this point and it’s messing with my dramatic exit so I just stand there waiting for him to elaborate.

“Shit, I’m so bad at this. Let me try again.” He’s visibly struggling with whatever he’s trying to say, and despite the overall pain I feel deep inside my bones, it’s my turn to smile. I mean, how often do you get to see Brian Kinney struggling to express himself?

“Justin, I want new rules.” He finally says with a resolve that scares me a little. OK, fair enough.

“Yeah sure, do you want to go back to fucking them on your own?” Please anything as long as I can stay.

“No.” Fuck.

“OK then…” I keep trying to delay what I feel is inevitable. He cuts me off right there.

“Would you please just shut up and let me say this?!”

“Yeah, ok, sorry.” Go ahead, break my heart, I’m all ears.

He takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself for the worst and then looks at me and says:

“I want the new rule to be that we only fuck each other. No tricks, no backroom, no cruising, no nothing. You and me in our bed, or well anywhere really, from now on.”

I’m having a stroke. It has to be it, right? I can’t feel my legs, my heart is racing, there’s a white noise in my ears. I want to say something but my brain’s not working, my mouth either. I’m just gapping at him like a fish out of his water bowl. A minute has passed, maybe twenty for all I know, and I manage to find my voice again.

“Do you mean that?” I hate how small I sound, but I have to make sure. I can’t let myself hope.

“Yes, I do.”

“But you need it.” I feel stupid for fighting him on this, but that’s what he’s been saying for the last two years. Monogamy is shit. I don’t believe in love, I believe in fucking. Those are his words. What kind of game is he playing now?

“I need you more.”

I realize I’m crying now. 4 words. Not the 3 I desperately want to hear but this is certainly close enough. He needs me. More than he needs to fuck random guys in a backroom. More than he needs to be the king of Babylon, of Liberty Avenue.

I jump into his arms, sobbing in his neck, peppering him with kisses. I’m so happy I could sing, dance, whatever. He wraps his arms around me instantly, holding me tight. I feel his smile against my hair and it makes me cry harder.

“Hey come on, don’t cry. You know I don’t know what to do with crying people.”

I ignore his attempt at lightening the mood and kiss him deeply, letting myself feel it all. After a few minutes, we break apart, both breathless and hard.

Brian, pulls away slightly and looks at me like he can see into my soul.

“Justin, you know I …” He trails off.

His eyes are pleading with me not to push it, not to force the words out of him. I see the fear, but also his desire to make me believe, that in his own fucked-up way, Brian Kinney does love me.

“Yeah, I know. Me too.”

Relief floods his features, he must have been really torn up over this. I’m an asshole for enjoying it but I feel like I deserve it somehow.

“So now that it’s settled, could you stop being such a drama queen and put that stuff back?” He points at the bag on the floor.

This time, I let him joke the seriousness away and throw the bag in the vague direction of the closet.

“I’ll put it back later. First, I need you inside me, seems I’m the only one who did not get off tonight.”

I take his hand and lead him to our bed. From behind me, I hear him murmur, not sure I’m even supposed to.

“Whatever you need Sunshine, whatever you need”. And for once, I know he means it the way I want him to.

[saharamae21]

All of My Wrongs - Chapter 6

Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC

Summary: Aurora finds herself enjoying her time getting to know Rafe. She likes spending time with him and forgetting about the world around them. It can never be that simple though. As her day continues on, the darkness that has surrounded her life begins to overwhelm her once again. 

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: I really, really want feedback on this fic. I know only a couple people really like it and I’m debating on whether or not I want to continued to post it. I love this fic, but if it isn’t the content you guys want to see, I change my focus for you guys.

Get Added to this Series Taglist

Series Masterlist

____________________________________________

I cuddled into his arms in the morning, the sunlight blinding my eyes as I flickered them open. Rafe was still fast asleep next to me. Waking up next to him was so different than waking up next to Topper. I yawned, stretching out a little bit before turning my back to the illuminated window. I closed my eyes, feeling Rafe’s arms pull me back towards him. His chest pressed firmly against my back as he began to wake up.

“Morning,” he muttered. I hummed in response, not wanting to wake up just yet. He nestled his face into the crook of my neck, cuddling into me even further. His hot breath against my skin sent shivers down my spine. “I should go.”

The vibrations of his words tickled my skin. I grabbed onto his arms as they loosed around me. I flipped over to face him. His blue eyes stared down at me with a certain glimmer. He tightened his hold on me again.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked quietly. I looked down and away from his gaze. He was so close to me and I began to feel a bit self conscious of his focused stare. He nodded and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead as if to say, thank you for caring. Everything just seemed to be moving so quickly and I was caught off guard. I looked back up to him and noticed that his stare was different from that first night. His eyes now showed admiration in them and that worried me. I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“I should really go before we get caught,” he said.

“You make it sound like we're doing something scandalous,” I teased. His large hand began to rub circles on the small of my back as he laughed at me. The way he looked at me scared me. He looked completely infatuated with me, but he didn’t know how I disappointed everyone. He didn’t know that I would only show him what he wanted to see until I couldn’t keep the act up anymore.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” he asked. I nodded and gave him a small smile. He smiled back at me before slipping out of bed. I watched as he slipped out undetected and cuddled into my comforter. My bed felt so empty now.

It was crazy that last week I never would’ve considered getting into bed with a boy, but now I’ve just gotten so used to it. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Rafe’s arms around me again, but as I pictured someone, Topper came to mind. His arms around me, holding me like he needed me by his side and the way his eyes looked into mine filled my head. Just the thought sent my heart into a frenzy. I was too tired to push them out of my mind, so I just fell back asleep instead.

“Rory…?” a voice asked as a knock rang through my room. I shot up and let out a yawn. “Rory!”

“What?” I yelled as Skipper continued to knock. He opened my door after my response and looked at me. I stared at his uneasy state and knew immediately what was up. He told me about how mom was in another one of her moods. He let out an annoyed sigh and looked at me to do something. I told him to go outside and find something to do. He didn’t have to witness what was about to go on. He stared at me for a second and nodded. I called out for him to head to the beach and make some friends. I didn’t want him to worry.

After he was gone, I slipped into the master bedroom. My parents room was clean and meticulous. For as long as I could remember, everything in the house was set up to be perfect. The items had a spot and if they weren’t there, it was the end of the world. I opened the draw of the nightstand, but nothing was inside. I knew at that moment that she wasn’t taking her meds. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I dug around, careful not to take something out of its assigned spot without putting it back exactly how it was. Finally, I found the bottle of antidepressants and walked down the steps, turning the bottle over in my hand.

She knew by the look on my face. She was sitting at the table with a full plate of food in front of her and this expression on her face that I knew all too well. I pulled a chair out at the table and listened to her tell me to go away. I didn’t though.

“Mom,” I said, my eyes pleading with her. I placed the bottle on the table. “You know you have to take them.”

“I’m the mom here!” she said, getting defensive. She slapped the bottle off of the table, causing me to flinch. It was worse than Skip had let on. This wasn’t just a mood, this was one of her extremes. She ran her hands through her hair anxiously and I watched as her left eye twitched ever so slightly. I wonder how long she had avoided taking them. “I’m getting better, I don’t need them!”

“Mom, you don’t just get better. It’s okay to not be okay,” I said calmly. Her eyes stared at me coldly as I tried to comfort her. She went on her usual tangent about how she was fine without them. I watched as the emotions overloaded inside of her. I watched as she allowed them to get the best of her. “Mom, you need to take them.”

“I don’t need them! I was fine until I had you!” she shouted. I felt my heart drop like it always did when she said things like that. I looked down and made myself small. “You and Skipper did this to me! You made me like this…”

I got up, unable to look at her right now. I silently walked over to the bottle lying on the ground and leaned over to pick it up. I stared at the fluoxetine pills in the bottle and closed my hand around it. I listened to her tell me to get out. I listened to her yell at me, but I knew that I was the only one to look after her now. I walked over, not looking at her once.

“Just take them. Please, mom…” I said as I set the bottle on the table again. She screamed at me to get out as tears fell down her face. I bit my lips together and nodded, leaving the bottle next to her. I turned my back on her and walked out, hearing her sigh as I left.

I made my way out to the dock and sat down, hugging my knees to my chest. I thought about how she was doing so well. I wondered if it was my fault. I hadn’t been home much and I had abandoned my home personality for the most part. I closed my eyes and tried to remember which Aurora my mom liked the most.

“Rory, come here,” my dad called. He was holding little Skipper as he knelt down to be on my level. I was too little to pick up on the bad energy that surrounded him. He looked me in the face and told me to be strong. “Mommy isn’t herself right now and we have to be patient with her. You can do that right?”

I remember nodding as he smiled at me. He stared lovingly at me and told me that I was his little girl. I didn’t understand how serious the situation was, but mom was never the same after that. She began to get irritable and lashed out at us. I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong.

The weeks after Skipper was born were the worst. She cried all the time. Everytime I brought Skipper over to her, she yelled at me. She would scream at me to get away from her and to not bring Skip anywhere near her. She would tell me that she didn’t want me near her…

As time passed, things got a little better. About a year after Skip was born, she started to seem back to normal. She lashed out less, but she still went into these states of silence. She would sit and stare at the wall with this glossed over look on her face. Dad would comfort her, but she never let me close. It wouldn’t be normal again until I begin to change. Everytime she would fall into these “moods” I would adapt to what she wanted. I would change myself to be what she needed at that moment because I couldn’t cope with a mom who didn’t want anything to do with me.

I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks as I snapped out of my daydream. I heard my name being called from a ways away and stood up, hugging myself. I wiped my tears out of my eyes quickly and turned to see Topper looking for me. He walked over in a state of panic.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked. My body language was much different as I faked a smile. I had made myself smaller and my arms tightly hugged my torso in an attempt to comfort myself. I wondered if he would notice a change, but he didn’t.

“I fucked up,” he muttered. I tried to push my own problems away in order to help him with his, but they lingered in the back of my mind. I listened to him tell me that he went over to Sarah’s house in order to confess his love for her. I listened to the desperation in his voice. I sat there following along in his story. “I-I was angry and I lashed out. I said things and called her things that I didn’t mean.” I bit my lips together, realizing that nothing I had said to him that night had gotten through to him. He was still pining for Sarah Cameron even though she clearly didn’t want him back. “She cheated on me,” he muttered. I could see all of his broken pieces. “She cheated on me with a pogue of all people. What does he have that I don’t?”

“Topper,” I said, grabbing his wrists to get his attention. His eyes looked down into mine and they looked the same as that night. “This isn’t what you're going to want to hear, but it’s what you need to hear. If she doesn’t see your true value, then she isn’t worth it. You’re amazing, Topper. You should have to change yourself to feel love, it should just come naturally.”

Everything I was saying to him applied to him. He was amazing and I didn’t want to watch him camouflage the way I did in order to please people who didn’t care about him. I sighed and looked down, breaking all contact between us.

“Stop blaming yourself and stop selling yourself short,” I said, staring at the wood beneath my feet. “You’re so much more than you can even see.”

“Aurora…” he mumbled. He stared down at me as I avoided his gaze. I could feel his eyes on me, but I was too overwhelmed with emotion to meet them. I just wanted him to realize that he was more than what he gave himself credit for. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” I said. I told him that he should go take his mind off it. He nodded and went on his way, looking back a few times at me as he left. I wondered if he noticed that I was sad. I wondered why he didn’t ask me if I was okay. Maybe he just didn’t notice or maybe he just didn’t care.

I sat back down on the dock and watched the water ripple beneath me. The crystal clear water reflected an image of myself. The girl painted on the water looked scared and helpless. She was lost and trapped underneath the waves. She looked like she was drowning. Much like my reflection in the mirror, something dark loomed around her. It wasn’t a ghost this time, it was this black fog. It surrounded her and weighed me down, not allowing her to get out of the water. It was killing her slowly.

“You okay, kiddo?” my dad’s voice rang out. I looked at him as he sat down next to me. He gave me a comforting smile as he examined my troubled look. “It isn’t your fault, Rory. She’s just not healthy. It isn’t yours or Skip’s fault.” “I know,” I said. I told him that, but I didn’t believe it. I was the reason she was like this. My birth triggered it all. She became sad after my birth. I disappointed her and I’ve kept disappointing her my entire life...

_________________________________________

Tag List: @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @jiaraendgame @bricksatanakinswindow @outerbongs @kiarascarreras @ilovejjmaybank @potterheadhollander @spilledtee​ @queenieloveswriting​ @multifandomlovess​ @starlightstarkey​ @tomhardybby​ @diverdcwn​ @sadcupofcoffee​ @maybanksbaby​ @teenagekook​

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Whiskey Lullaby~

~Chapter 11~

Image credit: Myself @badwolf-in-the-impala​. None of the images are mine, only the editing.

Previous Chapters:  ((Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10))

Rating: Mature/18+

Warnings: Alcohol and drug use/abuse, violence, suggested physical/sexual abuse, kidnapping, sexual content, angst...So much angst.

Chapter warnings: Language, smoking, someone gets punched in the face and a whole lotta feels.

Word count: 4,264

A/N: I’m a shitty person when it comes to posting, I’m sorry...I also forget this chapter even existed. Oops. x_x Also huge shoutout to @jacksonroseroth​ who helped in the making of this chapter and always comes to my recue when I get stuck writing! ^-^

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

Once they were sure Tawni had left the room, Tig gave Teagan one last hug before jetting off, having gotten a text to meet the guys in the chapel. Teagan bit back her tears, having enough with crying for the day as she sat down in the chair beside Chibs’ bed. The steady beeping of the EKG machine drummed in her head as she sat there in silence. He wasn’t out of the woods, but he wasn’t dead. Her only regret was he hadn’t woken up yet so he could talk to her. Teagan just wanted to hear his voice right now, more than anything.

“God...I’ve really fucked it up this time.” She gave a bitter laugh as she shook her head, leaning her elbows forward onto the edge of the bed as she cradled her head in her hands. “I feel like this is all my fault, and the two people I trust and care about most? Well, Tawni hates me; And you?” 

Teagan let out a long sigh as she ran a hand through her dark hair, looking up to study a very unconscious Chibs. His head bandaged and face scraped in places from where he hit the ground during the explosion. He looked so broken and helpless lying in a hospital bed compared to his usual tough exterior that everyone saw. 

“Well -- You almost died.” She finally whispered, catching a stray tear with the back of her sleeve. “Shit, you still could. Please don’t.” Teagan choked out a sob as she took his hand gently, her voice going soft as she spoke to him. The fact that he likely couldn’t hear her briefly crossed her mind as she chewed her lower lip anxiously, but she continued anyway. 

 “There’s so much I need to tell you still...Things I should’ve told you already, probably, if I wasn’t so shit at talking about my feelings.” Teagan admitted guiltily. “Things I’m scared to admit because I’ve been here before, and I fucking swore to myself; I fucking swore! That I wouldn’t go down this road again. But alas, here I am. God I’m an idiot.” 

Things fell silent again for a little while, the steady beeping of the EKG machine being the only noise to fill the room once more. Teagan not knowing how to continue on, not that it mattered anyway. Chibs was unconscious and he would likely remain that way for quite a while. But the bigger question that had been weighing heavily on her mind -- Especially following her blow up with Tawni -- was not so much her own feelings, but his. It wasn’t something she had really even considered bringing up yet, what with everything that had been going on. But now? Now she wondered.

Just what exactly was it that he saw he saw in her? I mean sure, it wasn’t like things were really that serious between them, but they were serious enough that he cared for her well being. Her safety even. He cared enough to help her put herself back together every time she fell apart, even though he barely knew anything about her. Save for the story that had been pieced together all those years ago when she left Charming. The story that everyone knew so well. The story, that was only half truth.

Teagan could feel the tears beginning to prick behind her eyes again, forcing herself to draw in a few deep breaths as she tightened her grip on Chibs’ hand, trying her best to ground her emotions again. But her voice still faltered as she spoke aloud the question she wasn’t certain would ever be answered.

“What is it exactly that you see in me?” Tegan whispered. Her brows pulled tightly together in confusion as she ran a thumb carefully across his scared cheek and down his jawline before allowing her hand to fall away. Before Teagan could say anything else, the door swung open, making her jump. She quickly pulled her hand away and wiped her face as she stood. “Sorry, Doc. I just wanted to-”

As Teagan turned, expecting Tara to be standing in the doorway, she, instead, came face to face with an older, darker skinned woman with black hair that had begun to salt and pepper, holding onto the bag slung over her shoulder with a hip popped, hand propped on it, with a posh and annoyed look on her face.

“Oh. Um, sorry. I thought you were--Who are you?” Teagan asked, slightly confused. She’d never seen this woman around the clubhouse before and Chibs never mentioned any woman that even came close to what she looked like.

“I think the question here would be who the hell are you?” She asked, a thick Irish accent coming through. Teagan’s eyes shrunk back.

Oh, God, not another one. Teagan thought. She’d never met Tawni’s mother and she hoped to God this wasn’t her. Granted Tawni was as pale as the day was long, but stranger things have happened. Taken aback by the woman, Teagan blinked and cleared her throat before she said, “Um, I’m-I’m Teagan?”

The woman pursed her lips and gave a soft ‘Mhm’ as she rounded the bed and set her bag down. Tossing her dark mane over her shoulder, she turned back to Teagan and said, “And would ye mind tellin’ me why yeh’re so broken and upset over m’husband’s accident? And why you were touchin’ him like that?”

It took everything Teagan had to not let her mouth drop open in shock and start yelling. Chibs never once mentioned he had a wife. Not when he held her that first night, not when she spent multiple nights in his bed. He didn't even bother to tell her when they were mere articles of clothing away from doing the do.

‘Alright…That puts a new spin on shit.’ Teagan thought, not trusting herself enough to say anything out loud just yet. Teagan opened her mouth to explain, but the woman cut her off with a wave of her hand and said, “No. Don’t tell me. I don’ need ta’hear any lies out’o a Crow Eaters mouth.”

“Excuse me?!” Teagan shrieked. That one label sent her over the edge. She did her share of whoring around when she was younger, but goddamnit! She was the sister of one of the members! She was as far from a Crow Eater as you could get without being an Old Lady! “Listen, who the hell do you think you are?! You don’t know me!”

“Oh, sure, please!” The woman shouted back. “I know Filip has his fun wit’ you American girls. But never once has one o’them shown their face when I’m around!”

Teagan was about to channel Tawni and reach across Chibs’ bed for a right hook to her face, when a nurse hurried in through the open door.

“What is going on? ICU is for immediate family only!” She said. Teagan opened her mouth to lie and say she was family, but the Irish woman beat her to it with, “I’m his wife.”

The nurse gave her a sweet smile and nodded before turning to Teagan and saying, “Miss Trager, you need to leave. Dr. Knowles is looking for you anyway.”

Teagan huffed at the nurse, shooting daggers at the woman before turning on her heel and marching out of the room.

~

Gemma had lost track of Teagan after reprimanding Jax and just prayed that Teagan didn't end up running back into Tawni. She really didn't need to deal with an angry Irish girl and a Trager, at least not at the same time. The last thing they needed was an all out brawl between a couple of hot headed biker chicks on hospital grounds. But after checking around with a few of the guys, she confirmed that Tawni had indeed gone back to the Clubhouse. And judging from the commotion coming from down the hall nearest Chibs’ room, Gemma could only guess that’s where Teagan had ended up.

“Shit.” Gemma muttered under her breath as she quickened her pace as she moved towards whatever in the hell was going on; Stepping back just in time as Teagan blew around the corner and passed her, Tara hot on her heels trying her best to stop her.

“I’m serious, Teagan, you really need to stay overnight for observation! You have a concussion for Christ sake, just let me help!” Tara tried to reason.

“I don’t fucking need anymore help!” Teagan stopped so suddenly that Tara almost smacked right into her. Taking a quick step back with a wide eyed expression as Teagan rounded on her like a viper about to strike its prey. 

“Hey! Knock it the hell off!” Gemma managed to butt in between the two, putting a hand to Teagan’s chest as she pushed her back. “This isn’t the goddamn WWE. Now why don’t you calm down and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

“He has a fuckin’ wife!” Teagan all but screeched before storming off down the hall towards the exit to the stairs. ‘Explains a lot.’ Gemma thought to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose as she turned to face Tara. “I got it from here, Doc.”

“Good luck.” Tara called after her as Gemma took off after Teagan, catching her on the stairs.

“Wanna slow down before I have a fucking heart attack?” Gemma shouted as she struggled to catch up in hopes of talking Teagan out of whatever in the hell she was about to do.

“Fuck off, Gem!” Teagan shouted back as she hit the last flight of stairs and made her break for the door. Gemma caught her by the arm just as she was stepping outside. “Seriously, Gem, I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

“And what is it exactly you think I’m gonna say?” Gemma shot back, hands flying to her hips as she gave Teagan an irritated and disapproving look. 

“I don’t fucking know!?” Teagan yelled as she fished around in her pockets angrily for her pack of smokes, struggling to light one as her hands trembled from all the emotions coursing through her. So angry at this point she could hardly see straight. “I told you so? You’re a fucking idiot? Stay away and stop getting involved with the fucking Club members?!” 

Teagan gave a brief pause as she took a long drag off of her cigarette, running a hand aggressively through her dark hair as she exhaled. “Jesus, fuck; Why didn’t you tell me he had a fucking wife?!” She rounded on Gemma, who stood still as a statue, waiting for her moment to interject. 

“Maybe ‘cause it ain’t my place, for starters.” Gemma snapped. “And before you go jumping on that fuckin’ high horse of yours, maybe take a step back and think? It’s not like he fuckin’ knows shit about your own past, aside from the bullshit story everyone else knows. So why would he feel obligated to tell you anything about his? Especially when you two aren’t even exclusive. I mean Jesus, Teag, have you two even talked about your feelings?”

“No…” Teagan admitted reluctantly, taking another drag off the cigarette burning between her fingers as she turned her back. Gemma had a point, even if Teagan didn’t want to admit it. But that didn’t change the fact she felt lied to. Betrayed even. Even if Chibs was never hers to begin with, it didn’t change the fact that he had kept this very important bit of information from her. 

“Then why should it matter?” Gemma stated. “His business is his business, nobody else’s!”

“He’s fuckin’ married, Gem!” Teagan shouted as she whirled around, seething again. “I don’t give two fucking shits why, or what his reasonings for not telling me are, that’s not something you just keep from the person you’re getting involved with!”

 “Jesus Christ…” Gemma gave a frustrated sigh as she closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Teage--”

“NO, Gemma, I’m done. I’m.Fucking.Done.” Teagan cut her off before taking one last drag, flicking the cigarette butt to the sidewalk as she began looking around for a way back to the Clubhouse. Panic setting in as she realized everyone had gone home except for Gemma. 

“Look, Sweetheart, I know you’re upset, and don’t get me wrong, you have every right to be--But this ain’t the time.”

“Seriously, just save it! OK?” Teagan snapped, closing her eyes as she rubbed at her temples. A sudden wave of dizziness hitting her out of nowhere.

“You need to calm down…Let’s just go back inside for a bit till you cool off.” Gemma stated firmly as she moved to take Teagan by the arm and lead her back inside. Gritting her teeth as Teagan pushed her way.

“I’m fine...Gem…” Teagan shot back as she pulled away, reaching a hand out to steady herself against the pillar in front of her as the edges of her vision started to blur. But by then, it was already too late. Her hand missed the pillar entirely and her vision quickly went black as she fell to the ground, Gemma managing to grab her before her head hit the concrete.

“Shit…” Gemma muttered as she laid Teagan carefully on the sidewalk before rushing back inside the hospital to grab a nurse.

~

The slow and steady beeping filled her ears as Teagan came to, finally hooked up to monitors and IVs. She let out a soft groan as the EKG beeps began to pound against her skull. Before she could have any other reaction, from the corner, almost making her jump and fall out of bed, she heard Gemma say, “Oh, good. You’re not dead.”

“Jesus Fuck, Gemma!” Teagan shouted, the EKG beeping wildly for a moment or two before the steady pace continued. Teagan sighed and tried to move but found it rather painful with needles sticking out of her arms. She sighed and shifted, trying to get a better look at her surroundings. “Why am I still here?”

Gemma slapped down the magazine in her hand and crossed her legs. “Because you almost took a fuckin’ cement nap if I hadn’t caught you, Teagan Marie.” She said. Teagan let out another groan.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gemma! Not the middle name shit! I got that enough growing up!” She said. Gemma uncrossed her legs and stood, stalking over to her bed.

“I don’t give a shit what you got growing up, missy.” Gemma said. “You’ve done enough damage, you don’t need any more in your life. You don’t want me to treat you like you did growing up? Then fuckin’ grow up!”

Gemma walked away from the bed and grabbed her purse from the table next to her chair and made for the door. With her emotions running high, probably from the drugs Tara put her on, Teagan fought her tears, though they came through as she said, “Wait...Gem. Please don’t leave me alone…”

Gemma stopped and turned to her. Teagan couldn’t stop the tears seeping from the corners of her eyes as she struggled not to completely break down and sob. Gemma sighed and set her bag back down, going back over to her and taking her hand.

“Teagan...This is serious shit we’re in right now. And if you’re gonna stick around, you’ll be involved. Do you really think it’s a good idea to get involved with Chibs? Let alone any member right now?” Gemma asked, lowering her voice to a softer tone. Teagan sighed, looking away from Gemma, angry with herself for crying again.

“I don’t know, Gem. It-It’s different this time. With Chibs.” She said. “He doesn’t treat me like I’m a no good degenerate like everyone else does.”

“Oh, baby.” Gemma said with a soft chuckle. “That’s not true; Jax doesn’t. Tawni never did. Clay doesn’t. I don't.”

Teagan gave her a look that made Gemma smirk and add, “Alright...Not all the time. But still, Teagan, I mean…”

“Gemma.” Teagan took a breath and said, “I think I might be in love with him.”

Gemma blinked, shocked, and said, “Are-Are you serious? Jesus, Teage, you’ve known him for like, a month.”

Teagan rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fuck. Gemma. I’m trying to be fucking happy for once in my life! Genuinely happy! And he’s fucking married!” Teagan said.

“Honey. That’s never stopped him before. Jimmy O’Phelan stole Fiona from Chibs before he exiled him from Ireland. Sure he still loves her, but...Well, he has needs too. He’s had relationships in the past. It doesn’t bother him. Why should it bother you?” Gemma asked.

“Maybe because I don’t want to be called a fucking Crow Eater by that bitch again?” Teagan hissed, her anger getting the better of her and making the EKG go off again. Gemma sighed and said, “Alright, honey, you need to calm down. If you want the Doc to clear you to leave, you’ve gotta get that anger under control.”

Teagan sighed and nodded, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Good God, did she want to get out of this fucking hospital. She cleared her throat and said, “Um, is-is he awake?”

“Teagan…” Gemma sighed.

“Gem, I just want to make sure he’s okay. Tell him I’m sorry.” She said.

“For what?” Gemma asked. Teagan opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when she realized she wasn’t quite sure.

“I-I-” Gemma stopped her and said, “Look. Before you do anything, I want you cleared by the doc. Make sure everything is working right up there. You’ve taken a few punches already and we don’t need you passing out on us again.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Alright. But can we make it quick? I want to fucking shower too.” Teagan said. Gemma chuckled and gave Teagan a kiss on her cheek before she left the room to flag down Tara.

~

After a lengthy talk about making sure she was monitored for the next few days, Tara finally cleared her to leave. Teagan couldn’t change fast enough. Gemma had run back to the clubhouse and packed her a small bag of new clothes. Once she changed and the papers were signed, Gemma walked Teagan up to Chibs’ floor and stopped her.

“Just give me a minute, Teagan, okay?” Gemma said, sitting the girl down in a nearby chair before sidestepping to the door. With her hand on the door knob, she stopped when she saw Fiona sitting in the chair, reading a magazine.

‘Oh, shit.’ She thought as she slowly opened the door and walked in. Fiona glanced up as the door opened as surprised to see Gemma as Gemma was to see her. With a sigh and uncrossing her legs, Fiona put down her magazine and stood. Gemma went to the counter to set down her bag as she said, “You’re a long way from home, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I am.” Fiona said, rather matter of factly. Gemma braced a hand on the counter, the other on her hip and asked, plainly, “Why?”

“I was worried about him.” Fiona said, almost a hint of offence in her voice. Gemma looked unconvinced as she said, “Could’ve sent flowers.”

Fiona’s face was full of annoyance at this point, uphased at how much Gemma hadn’t changed over the years. With an equal annoyance in her voice, she said, “Just needed to see him, Gemma.”

Gemma glanced at Chibs, making sure he wasn’t awake and listening as she crossed in front of Fiona and said, “We are in a shit storm here. The last thing we need is you turning him inside out.”

Teagan stayed out of view from the window on the door, ear pressed to it, listening. She didn't know what Gemma meant by ‘turning him inside out’, but she didn't need an interpreter for it, and booked it, swiping her bag from the chair and beelining for the elevator. Clearly, this Fiona woman had an effect on Chibs and, after all, she was his fucking wife. She didn't want to ruin Chibs’ relationship with her and had her mind made up, even before she hijacked Tig’s bike, parked with the others. She hotwired the Harley, strapped on Tig’s helmet and took off as the club came running back outside, ready to deal a beat down, but they were all caught off guard to see Teagan as the thief.

“Hey! Teagan-!” Tig called in disbelief. He sighed and turned to his crew, staring at them for a moment before he said, “Unbelievable.”

~

Teagan lit into the Clubhouse like the place was on fire. Ignoring Piney’s attempts to slow her down and tell him what the hell was going on as she passed by the bar and made her way down the hall to the dorms; Throwing the door to her room open. The sound of it slamming against the wall sending an echo loud enough down the hallway that it could’ve woke people up in the next County over. 

Grabbing her pack from the closet she quickly began to stuff in the essentials. Making sure to do so quickly as she knew at least a few of the guys would be on their way back and pulling in soon. Tig being among them, given she had just stolen his pride and joy. So the sooner she got out of there, the better. Besides, the last thing she wanted was anyone trying to stop her…

Her mind was made up...She was done. Charming had been her last chance at a safe haven, but now that had been shattered into a million pieces and all because she let her feelings get in the way. Just like she always did. Funny she had actually believed that things had actually turned in her favor for once, and that maybe she finally had a shot at real happiness despite the shitstorm that had been chasing her all her life. But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” Tawni grumbled crankily from the doorway of Teagan’s room, still half asleep; Teagan turning and narrowing her gaze. 

“Leaving.” Teagan snapped as she tugged the zipper on her pack shut and threw it over her shoulder before stalking out of the room. Shoulder checking Tawni on the way out when she didn’t move.

“Seriously?!” Tawni huffed as she turned and started after Teagan. “You’re gonna be a bitch this fucking early?!”

“I’m done. Gone. Not fucking coming back. You should be fucking happy!” Teagan rounded on Tawni, causing her to take a step back as she stared at Teagan a little shocked as those few that remained in the Clubhouse fell silent. “Can’t fuck your Uncle if I’m not around anymore, right? Because as if things weren’t shitty enough -- To add insult to injury, my best fucking friend--Sorry ex best friend, just assumes, that I would go behind her back in such a way--”

“Teagan--”

“Fuckin’ save it Tawn, ‘cause I don’t give a shit anymore.” Teagan cut her off before she could even start. “And to think, I actually fucking cared...I mean genuinely fucking cared, for the first time in a long time...But he’s married, so crisis averted. ” She laughed bitterly, turning on her heel as she started for the door again.

“And you’re answer to it all is to run like a fucking coward? Just like you’ve always done?!” Tawni started after Teagan again, not ready to let her go so easily. But she stopped when Teagan dropped her bag abruptly, her fist suddenly connecting with Tawni’s jaw, sending her to the floor.  

“I thought you were my fucking friend.” Teagan’s voice was calm, showing in it the level of hurt she was feeling right now as she shook her head.

“C’mon, Kid, don’t do this.” Piney butted in as he got to his feet, holding his hands out as if he was trying to calm a wild animal as he approached her. Stopping when Teagan held out a hand to stop him, and picked up her bag.

“Save it.”

“What the fucking Christ, Teagan?!” Tig hollered as he came bursting through the doors of the Clubhouse, Jax and Opie close behind. 

“Don’t.” Teagan snapped coldly as she pushed past her brother and out the door; yanking her arm from Opie’s grasp when he tried to grab her.

“Come on, Rave...Don’t do it like this.” Opie pleaded with a sympathetic expression as he stared down at her as she pushed past him out the door. “At least tell us what’s going on?”

“She’s fuckin’ my Goddamn Uncle, is wha’s goin’ on!” Tawni shouted as she came flying out the door in the midst of all the chaos, hellbent on finishing what had just been started.

“You know…” Teagan gave another hollow sounding laugh, turning with tears in her eyes to face Tawni who stopped when she saw her twisted expression. “I actually wish I had gotten the chance.”

Without another word she turned, crossing the lot the rest of the way to her bike, securing her pack to the sissy bar before she climbed on and pulled on her helmet. The sound of the engine roaring to life drowning out Tig’s shouts as he came running across the Teller-Morrow lot after her; Falling just short  of reaching her as she pulled out of her space and hit the throttle. Leaving behind a sea of shocked and confused faces in her wake as she left it all behind.

Hellbent on never looking back.

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

Lemme know what you guys think! I promise things pick up soon and get more interesting lol And if you want to be added the taglist, or removed ((it’s been a long time, I’d understand if anyone's lost interest)) just let me know. I’m actually getting ahead on chapters, so hopefully I’ll be able to start posting a little more often.

TAGLIST: @jacksonroseroth​ @cole-winchester​ @stacie-marie-bloom​ @journeyrose​ @penny4yourthot​ @xbreezymeadowsx​ @miss-nori85​

[thewnchstrs]

Rescuer

Pairing: WinchesterSister!Reader

Disclaimers: sexual assault, unwanted touching, unwanted groping 

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: this got a little darker than I originally planned...

M A S T E R L I S T

buy me a coffee?

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

I sliced my machete clean through the vampire’s neck, watching it roll across the floor before turning, slicing into another one and then the one behind that. I stood in the living room, my machete held out in front of me as I waited for more to appear, careful of the ones littering the floor around me.

I slowly crept back up the stairs toward where Dean was supposed to be. I turned into the first room where three vampires laid lifeless. I moved onto the next room where I could see Dean untying two young guys from a wooden post.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked over his shoulder as he cut the guys loose

“I’m good,” I said, looking to him as he stood, helping them up. “You?”

Before he could even answer, I heard the creak of the floorboards behind me. I quickly dropped low to the ground, swiping a foot across the floor, knocking the vampire to the floor. It growled up at me, baring its teeth as I brought the machete up over my shoulder and sent it down sailing through the air, severing its head.

I panted, wiping away the splattered blood over my face as I stood, turning to Dean and the two guys who watched in shock, “Woah.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Dean said as he ushered them down the stairs and out of the house. “Lets get out of here before anymore of those freaks show up.”

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

Dean and I leaned up against the sticky bar, the loud music booming around us. The Saturday night scene was in full force and we were right in the middle of it. The bartender continued to bring us more rounds of beers long after I waved him off, but Dean kept asking for more.

“God, I haven’t seen you drink this much since you were in your twenties,” I said, laughing as he picked up another beer and shoved another into my hands.

“We’re celebrating. To a hunt gone right,” Dean said, slightly slurred as he clinked his bottle against mine. “We earned a win.”

I nodded, taking a sip from the beer, “First time in a while…we’re not getting rusty are we?”

“Psshh,” Dean said, making me laugh. “Speak for yourself. I am as youthful as ever.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Right. Because for the next few days you’re not gonna talk about how bad your back hurts?”

Dean ran his tongue over his top teeth as he took another drink from his bottle. “Hey, by the way, nice job back there. You did good.”

I watched him closely, “You should drink more often.”

“Amen, sister,” he said. “And that thing you did with the leg? Knocking that vamp down like that? Pretty badass.”

“Right?!” I said. “Pretty sure I learned it from watching one too many Charlie’s Angels movies.”

Dean laughed, throwing his head back when someone traveling from one end of the bar to the other caught his eye. I watched as Dean’s eyes traveled to the girl that passed, his eyes raking up her long legs and short shorts, her dark hair that curled down the middle of her back. She turned halfway over her shoulder to wink at him at the last minute before disappearing out the back of the bar.

“Go,” I said to him, making his eyes dart to me in confusion. “I know you want to. We’re celebrating, right?”

“No, no, I really shouldn’t- alright, I’ll go,” he gave in, quickly grabbing his beer from the bar top and meeting the girl outside, the heavy door closing behind them.

I shook my head, laughing as I tapped the pads of my fingertips against the bar top as I watched the TV screen above the racks of alcohol, sipping my beer. I tried to push away all of the crap that’d been piled on us the past few months. With Cas M.I.A, Rowena dying and the only weapon to rid all of the supernatural beings on the planet being destroyed, it could easily be categorized as one of the worst few months of our lives. However, now I decided to take a play from Dean’s playbook, to drown myself in cheap beer and forget about our problems for just a little while.

I should’ve known it wouldn’t have been that easy. As I watched the TV, I began to have the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that someone was watching me. Call it hunter’s instinct.

I looked to my left but was only met with a crowd of people talking loudly around a table, nothing entirely suspicious. I dragged my eyes back up to the TV before looking to my right where sure enough, a large man sat at the other end of the bar, definitely not trying to hide the fact that he was watching me.

Gripping the bottle tighter in my hand, I downed the rest of its contents before standing. I flipped my jacket aside as I dug for the cash in my pocket, revealing the gun tucked away in my waistband to the man. I slammed the money on the bar top as I stared back, challenging him.

I began to gather my things, grabbing Dean’s jacket from the chair, planning on going to sit in the Impala to wait for Dean when I turned around and nearly ran into the man. He was tall and burly, and not bad looking if he hadn’t been a total creep. I made a mental note that this guy could easily take me down if he really tried.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Did you miss the part when I showed you I had a gun, or do I have to remind you?” I asked, moving to the left to pass him but he moved too, blocking my way.

“I don’t know, shooting a guy in a public bar might get you into some trouble,” he said. I clenched my jaw as I watched a smirk spread across his face. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“Oh, I plan on getting out of here, just not with you,” I stepped to the right this time, but he blocked me again. This wasn’t this guy’s first time harassing a girl in a bar. “Stay away from me.”

He began to run his hands up my arms. I tried pulling away but he only tightened his grip, “C’mon, let’s go have some fun.”

I scowled up at him, twisting my arms before pulling them out of his grip and pushing him away from me, “Don’t touch me.”

Pushing past him, I bound out the bar’s main entrance, silently cursing Dean for parking the car so far away. I pulled the keys from his jacket pocket slung over my arm, my hands slightly shaking as I neared the car when a strong hand gripped my shoulder, pulling me backwards.

I stumbled back, watching the man. I felt myself begin to shrink. You could put any kind of monster, demon or angel in front of me and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash before taking them down. When it came to these situations, the ones with just people, those were the hardest. Monsters were scary, but people like this guy were much scarier.

“I’m not gonna tell you again,” I said, mustering up every ounce of strength I had to stand in front of him without shaking like a leaf. “Stay away from me.”

“Or what?” he said as he came closer. With every step he took toward me, I was taking one back. This went on until he’d backed me up into a corner, right where he wanted me. My back pressed up against the harsh brick wall of the bar, my arms scraping it as I tried to sink deeper into it. He rested a palm on either side of my head as he looked down at me, his face nearly inches from now. “What are you gonna do if I don’t stay away?”

My breathing began to pick up as I swallowed roughly. I had no idea. I had no clue as to what I’d do, and this guy knew it. He twisted my hair in between his fingers, his eyes flicking up to mine as one of his hands began to roam down my body, the other one still pinned to the wall beside my head.

The man came in close to my ear, biting at it before whispering something to me that I couldn’t quite process. I felt myself begin to shake slightly as his hands came to rest on my hips.

“Relax,” he whispered, which only succeeded in making my heart pound faster. He began to kiss down my neck, biting my skin as he pushed me harder up against the wall. I racked my brain for anything, almost like everything I’d ever learned up to this point about what to do in these situations was lost on me, completely wiped from my memory. I felt frozen as his hands massaged my chest, crashing his lips into mine.

I felt myself begin to tighten my grip on something in my hand, almost as if my body were going into autopilot because it knew I was of no use. I felt the metal of the car keys sliding in between my fingers before jutting them upward into the man, making him stumble backwards in shock. With the split second of freedom, I found myself screaming for Dean who I prayed would be able to hear me if he were still even here.

I began to run toward the side of the building, pumping my legs. “Dean!” I screamed again before I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and slam me against the brick wall. I watched in fear as the man gripped a tight hand over my mouth.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he snarled at me, inches from my face when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. My heart dropped, unsure of how I hadn’t seen he’d had a gun, wondering if maybe he’d taken mine. However, the look on the man’s face was enough for me to know that it wasn’t him who had the gun.

“No,” Dean said from a few feet away. The man and I looked toward him, my whole body nearly going limp with relief. “You are.” Dean shot the gun twice, making the man fall to the ground, screaming in agony as he held his legs where blood began to pour from the wounds. Dean quickly ran toward me, his eyes scanning my face. “Are you okay? Did he touch you-”

“Lets just go,” I said, the words coming out just above a whisper. I pulled him away from the man who continued to scream for help. Dean didn’t move from where he was standing, clenching his jaw as he looked from me to the man on the ground, a look of anger I’d never seen in him before.

Dean gently pushed past me as he stood over the man, grabbing him by his shirt collar with his left hand and swinging a fist into his face with his right. Dean’s fist rained down over the man once, twice, three times before he threw him back onto the ground, his chest heaving with anger.

“C’mon,” he said, leading me back to the car. He pulled the passenger door open for me, putting a hand on my head as I slid into the car, watching him walk slowly to the driver’s side. We sat in silence, neither of us sure of what to say.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. I could feel his eyes on me, but I kept mine glued to the dashboard.

The scene continued to replay in my head like a broken record, everything I could’ve done differently racing through my mind at top speed. Now that my head was back on straight again, I felt the weight of the gun in my waistband, how if I had been thinking I could’ve used it a lot sooner.

“I froze,” I said, still keeping my eyes off of Dean. “I never freeze.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve shot him.”

“I did it for you,” he said. I looked up to him now where the anger in his face was beginning to fade away and was being replaced by concern. “Are you okay?” He asked again.

I hesitated, unsure of what I was feeling, “I don’t know.”

Dean nodded slowly, turned the engine over, the Impala rumbling to life. I tightened my jacket around myself tighter as I slunk down in my seat, desperately trying to get the feeling of the man’s hands over my body out of my head.

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67​​​ | @majicbamana​​ | @luciferslucille​​ | @anti-social-club​​ | @search-bar​​ | @mellorine-paprika​​​ | @thepocketshoelace​​ | @jaremish​​ | @the-salty-asian​​ | @the-hufflepuff-hunter​​ | @robynannemackenzie-blog​​ | @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​​ | @lilreethi​​ | @find-sammys-shoe​​ |  @caswinchester2000​​ | @damnedimpala​​ | @thelittlestwinchestersister​ | @lauren-novak​​ | @adeanmon​​ | @tmiships4life​​ | @spnficgirl​​ | @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ | @defenderrosetyler​​

WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST

@resanoona​​​​ | @mccartneywinchester | @bunnyandy12​​​​ | @breereadsthings​​​​ | @slytherinrising​​

[asoftervirge]

Of “Love” & Murder - (5/13)

CHAPTER TITLE: The Tragedy of Roman Scarlet

RATING: M PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: mentions of Remus, mentions of Lovecraft & his Racism, Alcohol, Singing, Musical References, Flirting, Kissing, Touching, Implied/Referenced Smut, mentions of Murder CHAPTER SUMMARY:  Roman tells Virgil his backstory on how he met Virgil.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: And here we’re introduced to Roman! :D Again, from here on, the content warnings are heavier than the previous chapters, so please take care of yourself if you decide to keep going! Have fun reading everyone! xx Virge

INSPIRATION: This post by @phantomofthesanderssides

AO3 || Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

Patton blinked in astonishment while the figure continued to smile gently at him.

Was— Was he dreaming, or was this actually happening?

A soft giggle breaks him out of his shocked state. It was a very melodic sound, and despite the surprise that was currently surging through his body, it somehow put him at ease.

“What’s the matter, darling?” the voice called to him, almost amused by Patton’s shock. “You happen to look quite pale. Paler than the man who lives here, and he happens to wear quite a lot of foundation.”

Backing away slightly, Patton tugged at his sweater nervously. “You…Who are you?”

The person— ghost? vision? hallucination?— gave him a sparkling smile. It almost made him blush. “You don’t remember who I am?” he asked. Patton was confused by this. “Perhaps you should get a closer look. Come, come. There’s no need to be shy! My face is a familiar sight for many of my adoring fans, especially if they who went to Storytime.”

If they went to the bar? Patton became a little more confused, but he did as Roman asked and stepped closer, albeit shyly. With his smile still bright, Roman moved his head about to give the confectioner a glimpse of his profile. As he did so, baby blue eyes widened in sudden realization.

The sharp angles and high cheekbones. The ruby red lips. The hourglass figure. The curly auburn hair and reddish-brown eyes. There was no mistaking who this was anymore.

“Wait,” he breathes out. “You…You’re Roman Scarlet.”

“So you’ve remembered.” Roman smiled wider. “I am, indeed.”

Patton looked at him in awe. This was the famed Scarlet Rose who Remy and Thomas gushed about so much. The one whose photographs hung on many of the lounge’s walls.

Though he looked very different from both the painting here, and the photograph that he saw at Storytime. Instead of a beautiful, glittering red dress, it was a three-piece suit. A suit that consisted of a cream blazer with a yellow shirt underneath, along with white dress pants and black boots. Red and gold patterned designs decorated his attire in various places. And a red-colored ascot was wrapped around his neck.

Nonetheless, he was still very handsome as he was beautiful.

“I-I…” the confectioner didn’t know where to begin. “How— How are you here? How am I able to see you like this?”

A sad smile now came to Roman’s face. “I’m here to warn you,” was all he said.

“Warn me?” Patton echoed confusedly. “About what?”

Roman didn’t say anything. He kept his head down, gazing at his clutched hands that sat upon his lap. The confectioner noted how his nails were colored the same as his lips. His eyes held a bevy of emotions in them: bittersweetness and a little bit of mournfulness.

“Ms. Scarlet?”

“It’s Mr., actually. Oh, don’t look guilty, dearie, it happens.” Roman reassured as he saw Patton look bad for accidentally misgendering him. “I’m just,” he shook his head. “It’s not the most pleasant thing to look back upon.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No,” the former thespian said firmly, suddenly, causing Patton to look surprised. He corrected himself, using a much more calmer tone, “No. I need to warn you of the Cruel De Vil that lives in this house.”

Patton let out a noise and nodded. “Take your time, Mr. Scarlet.”

“Call me Roman, please,” Roman tells him with a faint tug of his lips. “And…I suppose I should start at the very beginning. It’s a very good place to start.”

Patton nods again, waiting patiently as the former thespian takes a deep breath.

“As I was growing up, I always wanted had a passion for singing and dancing,” he begins. “All types of music would play from either the record player or Mama’s radio.” A faint smile traced his ruby lips. “My parents always encouraged us to follow our dreams in the same way my grandparents did them when they first came to America so many years ago; and I’ve stuck by that ever since. I remember putting on little performances for my family after dinner or whenever we had guests come over; I remember how joyous I felt whenever I received applauds or cheers from my audience. That only fueled me to aspire acting unlike my brother, Remigio, or Remus as he likes to be called, who pursued literature…albeit of the more…horrific genre. Think Edgar Allan Poe or, even worse, H.P. Lovecraft.”

Patton shivered, an ugly feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. Roman agreed with his sentiments.

“Don’t ask me why my brother would want to affiliate himself with a notorious racist,” he scoffed with a small eye roll. “Once he read The Call of Cthulhu, by the head of Nessie, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. All of his works had some form of cosmic entity, or encryptic language, or some reference to a cult that always gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

The confectioner grew a little bit sick.

“Now where were we?” Roman mumbled to himself as he lost his train of thought. “Ah, yes! My life story, not my brothers’. When I was in high school, I started joining drama clubs, classes, and performing at my local theater. My first ever performance was Teen Angel in Grease; it was a small role, but I immersed myself in it. So much so, that I started grabbing people’s attention from the get-go. I then stared in My Fair Lady, Annie Get Your Gun, and a couple small name plays.”

“However, my biggest chance came through when I got the parts for two big productions: Captain Von Trapp in The Sound of Music, and Romeo in Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet.” Patton could see Roman’s eyes light up as he talked. “It was these roles that could show people that I was serious about acting, that I wanted to be more than a celebrity in my community. And boy did I wow them! I made them laugh, I made them cry, I stunned them with my acting. Nobody could have that more so than me, and I did it.”

“That was when I was scouted by a talent agent in the audience. He told me with my voice and my talents, I would become star on the Great White Way.” Roman shook his head, almost like he still couldn’t believe it. “And I took the leap of faith, and thus, Ramon Alexandre de la Rosa became Roman Scarlet.”

“Why change your name?”

Roman shrugged. “I had to appeal to the Americans somehow. No one would remember someone with a Spanish name like mine. Besides, a lot of us celebrities changed our names in order to reach fame.”

Patton nods. It made sense. “So how did you end up performing at Storytime?”

“About a year or so after it opened. I wanted to go back to my roots of performing for small audiences. I was performing in Hamlet when I met Alejandro Reyes and Thomas Sanders. We had dinner that night and the rest, as they say, is history. I started performing there on the weekends when I didn’t have a show.”

“And that was how you met Virgil?” Patton dared to ask.

Roman grew silent. Then chuckled emptily. “Yes,” he said finally. “That, was how I met Virgil. Or rather, how Virgil met me.”

…

One of the first things Virgil saw upon entering Storytime were a bunch of excited people clambered near the stage and its runway, faces aglow by the spotlights as they yearned to see their Prince. As he moved towards the bar, he took a closer look at the steady stream of people; it was a remarkably varied group— a mix of skin colors, genders, ages, along with sexual and romantic orientations mixed together. The air was thick with excitement as they continued to fill the lounge like sheep or cattle.

He casually slid onto one of the barstools, back against the bar and elbows resting on the counter; he reclined languidly, crossing one leg over the other.

Virgil looked around and also noticed some performers in scantily-clad outfits, sequin sparkling as they swayed their hips, going up to the bar to order some liquid courage. The fingers of the musicians drummed against their instruments, creating a low, thumping bass noise as they tested them and got them ready for the show.

“Hello, there,” a kind voice spoke from behind him. “Can I interest you in a cocktail?”

Casually, almost nonchalantly, Virgil tilted his head back so he was staring at the bartender from upside down. They were looking down (up?) at him with kind eyes and a pleasant smile, in his hand was a cocktail shaker.

Virgil thought a moment then nodded. “One espresso martini, please.”

The bartender nodded as he prepared his drink. He mixed vodka, simple syrup, coffee liqueur, and freshly brewed espresso together in the shaker with ice. He strained it into a chilled cocktail glass, garnished it with espresso beans before sliding the glass to Virgil.

He took a long sip of his drink, the taste of vodka and coffee hitting his palette pleasantly. He looked at the bartender and nodded, signaling that he did a good job. The bartender smiled wider and then moved on to making cocktails for the other patrons that walked to the bar.

Sipping again, Virgil blanked out any of the noises surrounding him until he caught wind of two very familiar looking people near the far-right corner of the bar. One having dark brown hair with lavender dye, the other having burnt orange hair; the both of them were chatting about something, but what, he didn’t know.

Remy’s golden brown eyes met his for a split second. He whispered to Toby before pointing to Virgil. This caused him to force a smile and nod cordially, receiving a wink and a blow of a kiss back. If he were honest, he was glad they didn’t motion him to join their conversation, otherwise, he would’ve just hissed and made sarcastic jabs at them.

Then the lights flared dramatically; all who were still standing quickly made their way to any open seats available as a man appeared on stage.

“And now, ladies, gentlemen, and all of our beloved guests here at Storytime, please welcome the star of the hour— Ms. Roman Scarlet!”

The audience broke out into the loudest of applauses as the starlet’s name was announced, though they quickly quieted down as the lights dimmed and a singular spotlight shone against the thick velvet curtains.

“You had plenty money 1922,” the voice crooned as a long, smooth leg appeared onto the stage from the small parting left open. Then the curtains slowly drew back as the instruments picked up to her voice. “You let other women make a fool of you…”

Virgil sat up a little, looking slightly fascinated.

Red-painted lips twisted up into a sultry smile as they strutted over to the piano, leaning against it in a suggestive manner. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?”

She then sauntered across the stage to the cheers and hollers and whistles. Her red sequin dress had a long slit that left little room for imagination. “Get out of here and get me some money too?” Roman stops to raise their long leg up, running the skin of her foot along the jawline of a lucky patron. You could almost swear they were nuzzling it.

“So, this is the illustrious Scarlet Rose that charms people to their knees, hmm?” Virgil notes as he takes another sip of his martini glass. He says this as if he doesn’t know who Roman Scarlet is, but everyone in the city knows who they are.

“Yep.” A voice rung from beside him. He looked to see Toby and Remy eyeing him with teasing looks that really made Virgil want to hiss and growl at them. Toby smirked and took a swig of his whiskey.

“And ain’t we lucky people to watch this bombshell every weekend, sugar?” Remy lowers their sunglasses and winked at him before taking Toby by the arm and leading him to a more secluded part of the lounge.

When they left, Virgil turned back to the stage. The dress clung to her body like a second skin, showing off her toned and slim figure; muscles shifted visibly as she prowled, blowing kisses and winking at the captives surrounding her.

“You’re sitting there wondering what it’s all about. You ain’t got no money, they will put you out,” Roman’s fingers carded through her hair, tousling it in a flirtatious manner. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? Get out of there and get me some money too?”

Roman then strides down the runway, one hand sliding down her belly and resting on her hip. “If you had prepared 20 years ago, you wouldn’t be a-wanderin’ out from door to door,” She reached down and ran her free hand down the side of a lucky patron’s face. They kept their eyes trained on her as their mouth hung agape. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” she crooned as she slid her fingers away from their chin.

They nearly fainted.

She then hops onto one of the tables, heels clicking against the wood. Some of the patrons volunteered their hands for Roman to take as she steps off the table. “Get out of here and get me some money too?”

Virgil watches as she moved away from the stage and runway, the thickest part of the crowd and over to the bar. “I fell for your jivin’ and I took you in,” The bartender slid Roman a dry martini with a couple of olives. “Now all you got to offer me’s a drink of gin,” He watches with an impressed look as she slams the martini down the back of her throat, then popping both olives in her mouth.

The bartender takes the glass and Roman smiled sweetly at them, leaning in to kiss their cheek. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” She looked over to her left and wiggled her fingers at Toby and Remy when she saw them. “Get out of here and get me some money too.”

Finally, her passionate eyes finally met the stormy eyes of Virgil Nyx.

A cheshire grin appeared on her face as trailed her hand across Virgil’s back, fingertips gently scratching at the back of his neck making him grown more and more intrigued. Then she was moving in front of him, both hands moving from Virgil’s back to his shoulders. She slid her hands underneath of his trench coat, touch blazing even through his thick turtleneck.

“Why don’t you do right,” she purred, now wrapped her arms around his neck as the audience whooped in delight. As she straddled him by a leg, Virgil felt the flames of her presence burning brighter. “Like some other men—”

Roman squeaked as Virgil instantly pulled her onto his lap, now sitting on him completely. She was warm and solid there as they were pressed chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach. The raptured audience’s breath hitched along with Roman as they all saw this sudden and dramatic interruption of the song, but none of them minded; in fact, they were equally drawn to the mysterious man boldly challenging their starlet.

Her heart hammered frantically against her chest as she felt skinny, calloused fingers tickle her back, seeing the smirk in his eyes as she squirmed on top of him. Whether she was squirming closer or further away from him, Virgil didn’t know, but he enjoyed watching such a composed performer crumble from his touch.

Virgil leaned closer until their noses nearly touched, breath brushing each other’s lips. Despite Roman knowing they were in a room with a mass crowd of people, all clinging onto to her every note, but in that moment, with the spotlight shining on both their faces, they were the only two people in the building.

“— D-Do~…” Roman finished the last note with a small stutter as she slid off Virgil’s lap, quickly trying to bring the sensual look on her fact to no avail.

The drums, followed by the bass, and finally the piano sounded the encore of the song as the Scarlet Rose strutted (more like scampered) back to the stage. The spotlight faded entirely, and the curtains swung closed, Roman’s last not echoing through the showroom.

There was an crescendo in applause as it died, not really wanting to break the enchantment, but wanting to scream their love at their diva. A few claps, followed by more, then it became a roar or feral howl that couldn’t be tamed by the band’s random playing during intermission.

As the spell broke over the audience, many of them went over to the bar to refill their drinks while others went and chattered to other patrons; and there were those that grabbed others to drag them to rooms outside of the lounge (probably to either smoke, make out, or have a quickie.)

It was during this time that Virgil turned in his seat and casually ordered another espresso martini. The bartender (who he learned was named Thomas) smiled and complimented at how he made Roman flustered like that; apparently it was a rare thing to do. Virgil hummed and sipped his martini, silently shooing Thomas away, who complied and filled even more drinks for patrons.

Perhaps five or more minutes later, the piano started up in a jazzy, ragtime tune. The crowed swarmed back to the stage, runway, and any empty seats as Roman sauntered back onto the stage with a less flustered face.

She got into position in front of the microphone, long fingers wrapping around it suggestively. Virgil turned back to the stage as Roman started singing another tune: “All that Jazz” from Chicago. Even he, who wasn’t all that much of a purveyor of the glitz and glamor of The Great White Way, could see the appeal— though this might’ve had more to do with the actual performer than the performances themselves.

Roman held the audience in the palm of her hand for another four more songs after that. She toyed with them playfully as she danced and swayed her hips in that very provocative dress and her high, alluring voice raising goosebumps on fevered skin.

Eventually, the final song, “Nowadays/Hot Honey Rag,” also from Chicago, came to a crashing halt and Roman stood on the stage, damp with sweat and grinning triumphantly. A model shotgun was in her hands and a red top hat was on her head.

“Thank you, ladies, lords and non-binary royalty!” She blew a kiss, gathering bouquets and individual roses in her arms. “Thank you for another wonderful night! I’ll see you again next weekend!”

The curtains fell to thunderous applause, yet Virgil cancelled it out. He stood up along with the audience as they gathered their belongings; then discreetly walked backstage as they now prowled the lounge. Dark grey eyes narrowed and scanned the halls at the other performers, backstage crew, costume designers, and makeup artists scuttling about. Finally he caught sight of a glittering gold star with the cursive ’Roman Scarlet’ underneath.

Making sure no one was looking, he opened the door with a single twist. Walking inside, he closed it with the faintest of clicks. His eyes grew intrigued and wicked as he glanced over the dressed-down starlet.

Roman’s sequin dress and boa were hanging on a mannequin in the far right corner of the room, which was decorated in red wallpaper with golden details. The furniture— a couch, fainting chair, and vanity seat— matched the seating in the lounge, also red velvet cushioning. Four lamps darned the walls to give it extra lighting even with the lights from the vanity table. Speaking of the vanity, makeup ranging from palettes, lipsticks, and polishes were scattered about its surface along with playbills and pearl jewelry. A giant bouquet of red and pink roses lay on the floor by the actor’s feet, next to her red heels.

The star herself was sitting in front of the mirror, wiping any remnants of sweaty makeup off her face and reapplying it. Her curly auburn hair glowed in the lighting, and her skin looked a little shining from being on stage. Covering her body (or barely) was a long, red chiffon robe with a silk ribbon tied loosely around her waist, attached to the sleeves and bottom were red feathers that looked identical to the white ones on her boa.

In the silence between them, Roman was quietly humming a tune: “What’s New, Buenos Aires” from Evita.

Virgil smirks faintly as he shuffled across the room. And as the final bars of the song were hummed, he finally addressed her, “Roman Scarlet. I’ve heard so much about you before I came here.”

A squeak, followed by the dropping of something. (A palette? A compact mirror? Virgil didn’t know and frankly didn’t care.) Roman turned around to see the amused man standing behind her. “Y-You?!” she cried out in surprise. “H-How did you get in here?!”

“Door’s unlocked,” Virgil motioned to it. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is, I’m finally pleased to make the acquaintance of someone of your caliber.”

Roman blinked, a flattered blush dusting her cheeks. “I-I thank you, truly,” she tells him. “But I’m not that special, for I am only an actor. Nothing to shout about, only a person enjoying their passion.”

“But you’re more than that,” Virgil insists, sitting on the arm of the couch. “When you act, you take us away from the squalor of the real world.”

The surprised expression on Roman’s face quickly disappeared, eyes lighting up in an excited manner. “A man who also knows Andrew Lloyd Webber?! Are you trying to tempt my theatrical heart?”

“Depends,” Virgil shrugged, raising a cocky eyebrow. He moved closer to the actor, pulling out a dark red rose tied with a black ribbon out of his trench coat. “Is it working?”

Roman takes the rose, breath hitching as their fingertips brush each other. She observes the richly colored petals before smelling it. She’s been given all sorts of roses throughout the years, but never one like this. “I believe it might be.”

Virgil smirked. “Good.” He rested his right ankle over his knee. “I must say, you have quite the voice, Ms. Scarlet. Or is it Mr. now?”

“It’s Ms. Scarlet currently. And thank you again for your praises.” Roman says, her newly painted lips twist into a smirk of her own. Her eyes grow half-lidded, allowing Virgil to see her sparkling red eyeshadow. “So,” she coquettishly crossed her legs. “What brought you to Storytime, Mr…?”

“Nyx. Virgil Nyx.”

Roman hummed. The name sounded very enticing in her mind. “You seem to be of the dark and gloomy type who doesn’t enjoy the nightclub scene. Again, what brings you here to flirt with a someone like me, hmm?”

“Well, I just so happen to remember some old friends who come here regularly, Remy Moerani and Toby Hallows.” That wasn’t completely true, as Virgil had only met them once or twice while still working at the bookstore. He would barely call them acquaintances, let alone friends. “But I personally came to see the beautiful rose performing at this establishment.”

A bright blush came to Roman’s face. “O-Oh come now!” she squeaked, averting her eyes from Virgil. “Y-You’re just being charming!”

“I mean it.” Virgil moves so he was directly kneeling in front of the vanity seat. His fingers carded themselves in her curly auburn hair, causing her breath to hitch again. His hand moved to where it was now caressing Roman’s cheek.

His thumb lightly ran across her bottom lip, the smooth and glossy lipstick coating his calloused skin. They parted obligingly. Dark grey eyes met reddish-brown ones; ones were sharpened in concentration, while the others were widened in anticipation.

Then, in a blink of an eye, Virgil kissed her.

Roman melted into the kiss the second their lips met. Her long, delicate fingers entangled themselves around Virgil’s neck and in his hair. In turn, he could feel the other man’s trailing magically down her body, causing her to squirm and writhe deliciously in his arms.

It was like an explosion— unrestrained and all-consuming.

As quickly as it started the kiss broke, and when Roman was about to whine and complain, she felt lips marking her skin. Fang-like teeth grazing against her sharp jawline, rapidly-beating pulse point, all the way down her hourglass figure.

Biting her reddened (and newly smeared) lips, she looks down at Virgil with hazy eyes as he touches her in a way she’s never been touched before. His faded hair tickled her skin as his kisses got lower and lower; she whines at him tracing the hem of her red, lacy panties before resuming all the way down her thighs, legs, and to her feet. Her fingers gripping and loosening against the arms of her chair.

“Wh— What are you doing…?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Virgil looked up at her with seductive eyes as he kissed all the way back up her leg and thigh, nipping occasionally. Roman gasped sharply, wanting to throw her head back and let herself be immersed in this tantalizing pleasure, but she kept her gaze on him. “I’m tempting your theatrical heart,” he continued, smirking. “Or better yet,” He kissed the hem of her panties before tugging them in his teeth. “Your body.”

Roman whimpered and felt herself growing weaker. “V-Virgil~” She really wanted him, but she was worried since, well, they were in her dressing room and not her apartment in the upper part of town. “W-We’ll get caught—!”

“Well, if someone decides to listen in…just tell them we’re playing patty-cake.” He tells her sitting up, unbuttoning and unzipping on his uncontrollably-tight leather pants.

Roman gulped and nodded, sighing happily as she was pulled into another searing kiss. Lips messily attacking each other, and hands roaming and groping each other. The balls of her heels were pressing hard into the small of his back.

She could feel herself slowly growing weak, weak for Virgil Nyx, weak for what he was doing to her, weak for the fire growing ablaze in her belly. She was pressed closer and closer until Roman couldn’t think of anything but heat, skin, pressure, pleasure, Virgil.

Virgil, Virgil, Virgil.

Her hands flew to his turtleneck and trench coat, yanking and tearing them off his body. As she did this, Roman could feel him undoing the ribbon around her waist then swiftly taking off her panties.

The first moan ripped from her throat after a few agonizing minutes of kissing, touching, and prepping each other. Her nails begin clawing and scratching Virgil’s back as he rocked his hips in and out of her, panting and groaning lowly against her ear.

Any members of the show or crew that were backstage blushed and gossiped amongst themselves as they heard pleasured cries, deep grunts, and lewd praises/comments.

(When Roman came out of the dressing room and made her way to the lounge— fully dressed and with a bright blush on her cheeks— reactions to her varied. Most giggled while some dared not look at her in the eyes, others coughed awkwardly and some even wolf-whistled. Her friends were no different. Toby snorted into his whiskey glass, Remy cackled and slid her a screaming orgasm, Alejandro sighed and made his way to the stage, while Thomas shook his head and tended to other patrons.)

…

Patton blushed furiously as Roman giggled. He didn’t expect the ghost to give him such…details about his love life with Virgil, even if he glossed over some things (which he was grateful for). Then again, he suppose it came with the territory of being some so sensational like Roman, and mystifying like Virgil.

“Oh, I apologize, darling.” Roman said with an apologetic look. “I don’t mean to make you redder than Dorothy’s shoes, but it’s something I can’t help. Virgil was…well, quite the tempestuous lover,” A thrill went up his spine, a blush appearing on his own cheeks. “Just one little touch in the right place and he made me weak in my knees~” A blissful sigh.

“S-So uhm…” The confectioner said a little suddenly, growing redder. He didn’t know how to continue in the conversation in the first place! “H-How did you remain so close with Virgil?” he asked lamely. “D-Did he keep coming to Storytime or—?”

Roman snapped out of his lovestruck trance and moved over to the dresser. Patton didn’t know why, but he felt a sudden chill come through the room. He returned with a beautiful white picture frame with golden embossing on it, the stand out of it was the photograph of Roman and Virgil.

Baby blue eyes stared closely as he inspected the details. Auburn hair tickled a pale cheek as they curled into each other’s sides, arms linked with one another.

Virgil looking surprisingly handsome. His hair was actually kept out of his eyes and more violet than what it is now. A distant smile was on his face that was half-turned towards the camera. His attire was also fancier than his usual trench coat and turtleneck; he was wearing a wine colored button up, black suit pants, a lilac vest, and purple tie. He was also wearing dark eyeshadow and purple lipstick.

Roman also looked very beautiful, lovely even. He was wearing a white, lacy mermaid gown that fit snugly on his body. The detailing on it was also lined with gold, from the bodice, to the sleeves, and all the way to the skirt. His signature red makeup painted on his face. A thin, lacy veil was adorned on his hair attached to a sparkling little tiara. In his hands was a giant bouquet of red roses.

They were standing in front of Storytime, surrounding them were Thomas, Alejandro, Remy, and Toby. All of them had varying expressions on their faces, but they all had one thing in common: happiness.

Written on the bottom right corner of the photo, in bright red ink were the following words, a red heart encircled around them:

‘Virgil + Roman February 14th, 1975’

“He became my husband.” Roman says, confirming everything Thomas told him. “We were married on Valentine’s Day.” He looked at the photograph, his face softening as he recalled that day. “It was magical. The most happiest day of my life. Everything seemed so wonderful back then. Like nothing horrible was going to happen.” His expression then turned sad, almost bittersweet. “How foolish and naive I was.”

Patton look at him. “What do you mean?” he asked in confusion. “What happened?”

Silence.

Then something Patton wasn’t expecting at all.

“He murdered me.”

[theatrelove3000]

Welcome Home

AAAAAAAANNNNNDDDD I have returned. I figured since I am not sleeping, I might as well post another fic, so here we are! This one is one I wrote after I got back from a trip to the UK in September. I thought it would be a fun little nod to my trip, which I plan to take again and highly recommend if you can get there!

Summary: After three weeks of being apart, Loki goes to pick Noelle up from the airport on Midgard.

Welcome Home

Loki POV:

Three weeks. Noelle has been gone for three weeks. I understand that she is on a trip with her mother in Midgard but I miss her. I have not spent this much time apart from her for as long as I have known her, including the months before we began courting.

It is still dark outside when I get out of bed. I can barely sleep without her next to me anymore, let alone with her on another planet.

I jump out of bed, pulling on some pants in the process and pick my shirt up off my bed. I start to go for my vest and leathers when I realize what I'm doing. If I am to go to Midgard to pick her up at what she called the airport, I need to look like I was of Midgard. I begin looking for the box that I had brought with me from our last visit to Midgard, finally finding it in a drawer in my wardrobe. I take it out, open it, and empty it of his contents onto the deep green of my duvet. I pull from the pile a dark material called denim jeans, or so I am told.

'Whatever it is, it is comfortable and Midgard appropriate' I think to myself as I pull the trousers on. I find the black shirt and put it on. After finishing with the socks and leather "combat boots" Noelle bought for me, I shrug into the black leather jacket her mother found for me as a thank you for this excursion to a Midgardian flight zone.

The sun is just peeking through the curtains of my chambers when I finish getting ready.

Looking at the sundial for a specific time, I find that I still have a few hours until I am to leave for the Bifrost to retrieve Noelle and her mother. I decide that I can just pass the time in the library, though I had a feeling that I would not be able to focus on my work.

I teleported myself to our library and make my way to my desk. It was still littered with the books I had been reading before adjoining my chambers for the evening last night. It was good to know that the maids and servants hadn't touched anything, not that I thought they would. They usually just cleaned around my work station, unless Noelle forgets to move her own books off the sofa or the table in front of it. Then they just skipped the library all together.

I sat at my desk and pick up the book that is laying open in front of me. It's a book I borrowed from Noelle before she left. I am just getting around to reading it.

'It's a dystopian society. It may be a bit odd for you but it was all the rage here a few years ago.' She had told me. So far I am on the second of the three books. I have a feeling I will not like the way this tale ends. It seems like the kind of story that the main character dies at the end. As hard as I try to focus on the storyline, I can't get invested in it the way I normally would. Instead, I keep glancing at the sundial. I finally give up and set the book down, deciding to walk down into the dining hall. Before doing so, I transform my clothing temporarily so no one questions my attire.

As I sit down at my normal table, I hear my boisterous brother with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif arrive as well. They join me at the table as I pile food onto my plate.

"Good morning, Brother!"

"Good morning, Thor. You are especially hyperactive today. Any particular reason?"

"Have you not heard?" Fandral asks as he reaches over me to snatch a piece of toast.

"Heard what?"

"You really are holed up in the library, aren't you?" Teases Volstagg from across the table, stopping his conversation with my brother to smirk at me.

"I do not find interest in gossip. Just tell me what has happened." I snap at them, my patience running thin.

"Thor has made the decision to ask the lady he wishes to attend the upcoming ball with to do so," Sif explains rather coolly. I know she is in love with Thor and has been since our childhood. Little did she know...

Thor looks up with a grin of childish glee on his face. He glances at Sif then back at me, telling me who he was asking as though I didn't already know. I nodded at him, letting him know that I understand.

"Enough of me, my friends! Let us focus on something else instead. Loki," he turns to me, as I start to stand and escape from the table, "When is Noelle to return to Asgard? I have much to speak of with her."

His rather inopportune choice of words earns a hiss from Sif and looks of shock from the Warriors Three. I just smirk at his inability to get his point across with his words rather than a hammer.

"She is returning to her home in Midgard today and I will be accompanying her return to Asgard in a few days, in time for you to speak to her before the ball." The others look at me incredulously, truly believing that Thor wanted to ask my Noelle to go to the ball with him. Only Fandral has picked up on Thor's feelings for Sif and knew that he would be asking her, not Noelle. He also had enough of a brain to know that even if that was Thor's intention, I would tear him apart. He is just sitting next to me with his head bent, trying not to laugh.

Thor laughs loudly, snapping the others out of their reverie. Glancing at the nearest sundial, I excuse myself from the table and nod to my friends and brother.

Once I am out of the palace, I pick up my pace from walking, eventually running to the stables to collect Tempest from the waiting stable-hands. I mount and we race through the city to the Bifrost. Children chased us as we sped down the streets of Asgard, people waving at us as we pass. I urge Tempest faster, digging my heels into his sides. It wasn't long before we were met by Heimdall at the Bifrost.

Heimdall nods to me as I step onto the platform. I close my eyes as I feel the Bifrost work around me. When I open them again, I am standing in Noelle's mother's empty apartment. I stand for a moment, getting my bearings, before walking to Noelle's room. Before she departed, we sat and studied the maps and best ways of transportation for me to get to her. We decided that I could just walk, as I do not trust these Midgardian vehicles. I open the door to her room and see on her bed the instructions she gave me on how to get to the "airport" and where to find her when I get there. I know that our connection will lead me to her when she arrives but it is helpful to have it if I need it.

I transform my clothing back to the Midgardian style and start to make my way to the airport. It doesn't take very long, as my destination is only a few blocks away from Noelle's apartment. Before long, I am leaning against a pillar in the building at her gate, waiting for her to come back to me.

I don't have to wait long. I feel the pull of our connection as she gets closer to me. She must feel it, too, because when I see her as she comes down the moving stairs, she is looking around. I stand up straight as I see her, my heart skipping a beat. The moment she sees me, her eyes light up and she starts bouncing slightly, impatient for the stairs to bring her down to the ground. Her mother puts a hand on her shoulder to try and keep her from being too hyper.

The second she was able to, Noelle started running to me as fast as she could. She dropped her bag when she was only a few feet from me and flung herself into my waiting arms. Her arms snake around my neck and nuzzles her face in my shoulder. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in. Lost in our little world, we didn't even notice when her mother was a few feet away.

"Hello, love." I mutter into her cheek. She lets out a muffled greeting. I chuckle at her, "You missed me, I take it?" She nods. I smile and set her down. I take her hand as I look over to her mother and nod at her. "Hello, Lady Beth. How was your trip?"

"It was lovely, Loki. Thank you. It's very nice to see you; I think Noelle agrees," She laughs, glancing at her daughter who has one hand laced with mine and the other holding onto my arm.

"I have missed her very much, my lady. I am glad she is home."

Beth smiles at me and tells Noelle to pick up her bag. I release her hand and pick it up myself. She picks up her smaller bag and weaves her fingers through mine again. I smile down at out intertwined hands.

We start to follow her mother out of the building where she waves into the street and a yellow vehicle pulls up to where we stand. The driver gets out and aids me in loading their bags into the open back of the vehicle.

I lower myself into where Noelle and Beth are sitting and close the door, upon which time my Noelle slides over the leather seat to me and curls into my side while her mother gives the man directions to her apartment.

"You know, I like this look," She says quietly, only to me, "it's very you."

I chuckle at her vague compliment and reply, "Thank you. I find it rather entertaining myself. Are Midgardians not taught as children that it is impolite to stare? I kept catching people looking at me as I walked."

She bites her lip, making me want to kiss her even more. "Most are told that it's rude to stare but you are way more attractive than anyone on this planet so they don't really care."

I smile and kiss the top of her head. "So, what was the best part of your trip? What did you see? Who did you meet? I wish to know all about it." I speak loud enough for her mother to hear us this time and join the conversation.

With this small invitation. Beth and Noelle launched into the tale of their travels that lasted until we were three-quarters of the way up the stairs to their apartment. Beth had taken hundreds of pictures of Noelle at the different sites and such while Noelle had taken pictures of the things around the sites in case we wanted to go there by ourselves.

Beth orders a pizza and the two ladies unpack as we await its arrival. I go with Noelle and lay across her bed as I watch her put her clothes in their proper places. We talk the whole time we are in there, catching up on what happened recently.

"Thor is actually going to ask her?" She exclaims as I tell her of what occured at breakfast this morning.

"It appears so. Though Sif, Hogan, and Volstagg are convinced he is asking you." I chuckle at her look of shock and tell her of the rest of the awkward conversation. By the end, both of us are unable to contain our laughter. It's at this point Beth comes in to tell us the food has arrived.

The three of us sit on the sofa in the living room and eat while watching whatever a "movie" is. Noelle tried to explain but it didn't make much sense to me. It is quite funny and entertaining though, so I don't mind.

When Beth and Noelle tire from their journey, Noelle makes a small scene about getting out the cot I slept on last time. Her mother laughs at this saying, "You really think I don't know that he is going to sleep in the bed with you? I don't mind, sweetheart, as long as you don't wake anyone up."

I smirk into my lap. Beth excuses herself to go to bed and Noelle comes up from behind where I am sitting on the sofa and wraps her arms around my shoulders. She rests her head on top of mine and I cover her hands with my own.

I hear her yawn and stand up, walk around the sofa and pull her to me. She moves her arms to wrap around my torso, her head to my chest. I envelope her in my arms and keep her close to me. After a moment of enjoying the silence in each other's company, I pull away, earning a slight whine from her in the process, and take her hand instead. I walk to her room with her following behind me, never letting go of my hand.

I open the door and she rushes in, dragging me to her bed. She crawls under the purple blankets and pulls me in after her. As I cover us both with the sheets, she curls up into my side, nuzzling her face into where my arm and shoulder connect to the rest of my body and lays one hand on my chest over my heart. It's her favorite place to be. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer, kissing her forehead. She giggles quietly and reaches up to kiss my jaw.

"Do you want to go out tomorrow? We can see a movie or sit in the park," She mutters into my neck.

"I will do whatever you wish to do, love. I am at your disposal." I feel her smile, feeling our usual rush of joy. I fall asleep quickly, finally feeling at peace with this beautiful woman between my arms.

~~~~~Le Time Skip~~~~~

Noelle POV:

I wake to the sound of deep breathing and the feeling of warmth around me. Turning around, I glance up at the sleeping prince with his arms around me, cradling me to his chest. I smile at how peaceful he looks. I kiss his jaw and slowly start to pull away. I manage to escape his death grip without waking him, quite a feat I might add, and slide out of bed. After making sure that Loki is covered by the blankets, I open the door as silently as I can and shut it behind me as I make my way to the kitchen.

When I check the clock on the stove, I see that it is almost ten in the morning.

"Damn jetlag," I mutter under my breath. I open the fridge and start grabbing things to make for breakfast. My mom comes in not long after.

"Morning, Momma." I say quietly.

"Good morning, baby." She replies and stands next to me as I start to crack some eggs, "Where is Loki? I assumed you two would be attached at the hip after what I witnessed yesterday." She bumps her hip against mine teasingly.

I giggle, "He's still asleep. I was hungry so I figured I would make the three of us some food before Loki and I head out for the day."

"Oh? Where are you going?"

"Not really sure yet. We haven't decided. Fell asleep before we could talk about it."

"Got it. Are you good here?" She asks, running water over her fingers to clean the eggs off.

I nod and she leaves to change. I am only alone for a moment when I feel hands on my waist and lips on my cheek.

"Hello, love."

"Hi," I lean back into him and turn my head to kiss his cheek.

"Do you know," his arms wrap around my waist tightly, "how terrifying it was to awaken alone in a place that I did not recognize at first? If you wanted to get up, you could have woken me."

"I know that you haven't been sleeping well, Loki. I'm not clueless," I grin and turn around in his arms, moving my hands to his chest. "Besides, I didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful."

He smirks and lowers his forehead to mine. 'Thank you' he whispers into my mind.

'For what?' I respond.

'For knowing me better than I know myself.' I smile at this, kissing his nose.

'Then I believe I have to thank you for the same thing.'

We break away when we hear a throat clear, looking to see my mother's boyfriend standing awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen with my mom slightly behind him, trying not to laugh.

I feel my face heat up and hide in Loki's shoulder. I feel him chuckling at me and peek at him to see him smirking at my mom's boyfriend.

"Hi, James." I squeak from my place in the crook of Loki's neck.

"Hey, Noelle. And your name is Loki, correct?" He holds out his hand for Loki to shake, "We met before, I think. I didn't know you were together."

"We were not together when we last met," Loki explains calmly, "It was not long after we last saw each other (you, Noelle, and I) that we began dating."

I bite my lip when I hear him say the word "dating." That's a strictly Midgardian term. It was odd to hear it come out of my Asgardian boyfriend's mouth.

"Ah, I see. So you have been with her for about a year then. That's nice." James is trying to keep things from becoming more awkward and is failing miserably.

"Noelle, dear, why don't you and Loki go get changed? We will take over the food." Momma to the rescue! Nodding, I take Loki's hand and drag him out of the kitchen with a look thanking my mom.

The second the door to my bedroom was closed, the two of us burst out laughing. I have my hands on his sides and his are on my hips. We fall backwards on my bed which only intensifies our laughter. He lands on his back and I fall on his chest. At this point we can barely breathe and have to calm down. If we don't, mom or James will come in to make sure we are okay and catch us in this compromising position.

He gets a hold of himself before I do and I do my best to match my breathing to his.

As soon as we are both breathing normally again, I get off of him and walk over to my closet. I realize as I am going through my options that I don't know what to wear since I don't know what we are doing. I suddenly have an idea that will help us decide what we do today. I grab a flowy emerald green dress that is shorter in the front and longer in the back and toss it onto my bed. I move to my dresser and pull out a pair of denim shorts, then I look around the room before finding what I am looking for. Loki left a green button up shirt here last time he visited. I lay the two outfits next to each other on the bed and look at Loki.

"You pick. Whichever outfit you like better will be what we do today." I explain when he gives me a confused and slightly amused look. He nods and looks at the clothes before picking up the dress and holding it up to me, like I do when I am having trouble deciding on a certain article of clothing.

"I like the idea of you in my clothes but I think I prefer you in a gown." He smirks at me. I nod and take the dress from him.

Before I change, I go to the kitchen and ask my mom what she did with the shirt she bought Loki while we were in Scotland. I go and get it from her suitcase and bring it back to him. I toss it at him along with a pair of skinny jeans from the box in my closet we had put together on our last trip here. He goes to change in the bathroom and I quickly put on the dress. I am lacing up my gladiator sandals when he returns in his new outfit. The jeans we bought fit him nicely and the black v-neck makes me laugh. Printed on the front in white letters are the words "Low-Key." He is smiling and I can feel his amusement through our connection.

I stand up off my bed and he crosses my room in two steps, grabbing my hips and pulling me to him, kissing me sweetly.

"You look ravishing, darling." He mumbles when he pulls away.

"You don't look bad yourself." I reply with a grin.

We go and eat breakfast with Momma and James and then head out on our date.

We walk down to the bakery we went to the first time he visited and bought some pastries for the God of Mischief's sweet tooth. I then hail a taxi and ask him to take us to the beach. It is the end of August and all the kids had gone back to school so the beach is pretty much empty for us to stroll down in peace.

We take off our shoes and walk in the surf hand in hand. We talk about nothing and eat our pastries and just enjoy each other's company.

"Do you know what one of the best parts about being in Midgard is?" Loki asks me as he begins to walk backwards in front of me.

"What's that?"

He stops and kisses me full on the lips, holding me to him. I snake my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. When we break apart for air he answers me.

"I don't have to be so careful with my actions in public with you. I can do more than offer my arm to you. I can hold your hand. I can touch your face. I can kiss your cheek. It's truly freeing."

I smile and place my hands on either side of his face, bringing his lips back to mine.

[banditthewriter]

Electric Love - Billy Russo - 5

I’m sure you all have forgotten about this story, but I wanted to get this posted since I’m going to be without internet. And you guys have been great with me not writing or posting since I’ve been so distracted lately.

Here we are, part 5! I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Smut! Sorta! Yes, this is the smut that I was thinking about when I was with Chaotic Neutral.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

It looked like headlights, but how could that be? You were in a room, weren't you? It was dark, but there was a wall behind you.

The headlights grew closer, twin circles that seemed to glow white. They got closer until you could see something dark in the middle of each headlight.

Not headlights. Eyes.

Eyes that looked like flashlights and they were looking right at you. As they came closer, you could feel the presence creeping up the back of your neck.

Suddenly he was visible, his pale white eyes stood out as beacons on his pale face. There was a darkness on his forehead where the bullet had entered, but it was mostly healed.

And he was right in front of you. In your fear, you couldn't move. A gloved hand came out towards you, inching closer and closer.

Just as the hand clasped around your throat, you heard your name yelled from behind you in the distance.

"Y/N? Y/N, baby, wake up!"

You snapped out of the nightmare. With yelp, you sat back and away from where Billy had been hesitant to touch you.

Your entire body was sparking. The sheets were singed. And it looked like Billy hand a red blistered mark on his side where you had been resting against him when your powers kicked in.

"I'm so sorry," you cried as you nearly fell from the bed, forcing your hands under your arms to keep from accidentally blowing a hole through the floor.

"I don't care about that," Billy exclaimed as he got out of bed too, coming to stand in front of you. "What was that? It was like you were under attack."

You had been so focused on the fact that you were a danger to Billy that you'd forgotten your dream, but his question brought it screaming back to you.

Those eyes, the wound on his head, the hand around your throat. It'd felt so real. You could still feel the creeping feeling up the back of your neck like you did when the creator was trying to contact you.

"It was just a bad dream," you said as you slumped a little, barely holding yourself together. "I could have killed you over a stupid bad dream."

Billy tugged you into his arms despite your protests. Your powers were still tingling but he didn't flinch. Once you were certain that you weren't hurting him, you wrapped your arms around him as well.

"I don't care about that," he repeated as your hand went to his side where you must have shocked him pretty bad, "I didn't even feel it. I just care about you. That wasn't just a bad dream; your power lit up like you were fighting for your life."

That's what it had felt like. The fear that seeing the creator stirred in you had made you feel, even in your dream, like you were fighting for your life.

"It was about the creator. He was back and was going to kill me."

Billy wrapped his arms around your waist. You tucked your face into his neck and took a deep breath.

"He can't hurt you anymore. He's gone."

------

Frank and Billy had been planning non-stop on how to end Rawlins. You helped when you could, explained more about your powers, but they were the ones that knew him so they were the ones giving the information.

Billy stayed at Anvil a lot, using his contacts there to try to find the man. It seemed that the warehouse was completely empty so they didn't have a starting point.

You couldn't even use your powers to pull information off of the computers because there wasn't any electronic connection to the man.

The CIA wasn't big on paper trails. Even electronic ones.

While the men did their part, you were left to try to hone your powers. Meditation had helped before, so you did that. You also did little exercises to keep your powers in top shape.

Since finding Billy again, your powers had been unpredictable. Sometimes they were dormant around him, other times it was like they wanted to crawl out of you and into him.

And you still didn't understand how you could feel his emotions. It wasn't part of your powers as far as you could tell.

You had picked an abandoned warehouse for your practice. It meant being in an unfamiliar area, but it kept you from attracting attention once you started to light up like a Christmas tree.

Power built up in the pit of your stomach and you willed it through your left foot and into the ground. Then you did your right foot. You focused on each limb and felt the power move through you like water.

A halo of residual energy built up around you as you worked. You could feel it build, grow into something visible and nearly tangible. It was shaped… no, it wasn't possible.

You stepped back to get a better look and sure enough, the energy had formed an almost human figure. It was taller than you, wider in the shoulders.

A noise made you drop your concentration and the halo disappeared. It left sparks and a black circle on the ground, but you paid them no mind. Instead you turned towards the noise.

An inside door pushed open, revealing Gregory. His body was covered in the metallic sheen of his impenetrable power. You felt electricity flicker to life in your finger tips as you stared at him.

"How'd you find me?"

"Clive can still sense all of the metas that are alive," he explained, referencing one of the metas with a powerful mental capability. "He told me where you'd been staying but I didn't believe it. But when he told me you were out here in an abandoned warehouse, I knew it was my chance to talk to you."

Talk. You raised an eyebrow at him. Without much effort, you flicked one finger and watched a spark dart from you and then bounce off his chest without doing more than leaving a mark on his shirt.

"If you wanted to talk, you wouldn't have gotten all dressed up," you said as you looked at his tactical gear.

The kind of stuff both of you wore when you worked for the creator.

"You left me a note."

You had. In the days since you'd broken into his safe house, you wondered if you should have left that note. It was too late to take it back, but it meant he would look for you.

"You owe me. My half of everything we accumulated in our time together."

He pulled on a strap over his chest to reveal a black duffle bag. He unzipped it to show you the contents—and to show that it wasn't booby trapped. Then he threw it to your feet.

You bent down to examine the bag. Money, a few weapons, jewelry and gems. Then you saw the little black box that made you see red.

"You disgust me," you said as you tossed the box at his feet. "I wish I'd never met you."

Gregory bent down and picked up the box, his hands turning it over gingerly before he tucked it into one of his pockets.

"You found him, didn't you? Russo. That's who owns the penthouse."

You stood up and slung the bag over your shoulder.

"Don't say his name," you threatened before you turned to head over to where you left your things. "Billy is twice the man you'll ever be. Five times—a hundred times the man. You don't even deserve to say his name."

Gregory scoffed behind you.

"He's a murderer."

You spun around and pointed a gun at him, aiming for his head. Even at close range, the bullet wouldn't do any damage with his power activated. You rolled your eyes before you put the gun back in the bag.

"And what does that make us, huh?"

------

The black duffle bag was tucked under the edge of Billy's bed. You needed to talk to him about a few things before you could show him what you had.

When he got home that evening, you were a ball of restless energy. If it hadn't been for your control, there would be scorch marks on the floor. Instead you nearly launched yourself at Billy when he walked in the door.

"Well that's a greeting I could get used to," he remarked against your lips as you held on to him.

"You might have to," you joked as you sank back to your feet. "Have a good day dear?"

He laughed as he pulled off his suit jacket, undoing the button at the top and tugging off his tie.

"Work was work. Frankie had an idea for how we might find Rawlins. He's gonna work it with his buddy from the NSA."

You reached out to take his jacket and tie. Your hand touched his and you felt a zap, a little more than usual.

"Shit, sorry," you said quickly as you pulled your hand away, "I'm just a bundle of nerves tonight."

Billy dropped his stuff onto the floor, not caring at all. His hands went to yours and he tugged you closer.

"I've told you before, I don't care about that shit," he promised as he ducked his head down to give you a kiss. "Why are you a bundle of nerves? What's going on?"

You pulled away from him, but kept your hand in his. You guided him over to the couch and sat him down. Then you paced in front of him for a moment.

"A few nights ago during dinner, you wouldn't let me talk to you about something, but now we need to."

Billy leaned forward, his forearms braced against his thighs.

"You have my attention."

You rotated the ring on your finger back and forth as you tried to get the words in order. It felt like you were trying to pull the words out of your own heart.

And your powers were making the lights flicker a bit.

"You gotta calm down before you fry the lights babe, come here," he said as he tugged you down onto the couch with him. "What's going on?"

Finally you took a deep breath and let it out slow. You could do this.

"When I was working for the creator, I was involved with someone. He was another meta."

There was a flicker in Billy's eyes, but he didn't pull away from you. But that flicker didn't lessen at all.

"Involved, huh?"

You glared at him and shook your head.

"Oh and I'm sure you were a monk while I was supposedly dead, right? That's why you're so desperate to get me in the sack, because you've been celibate since I–"

He tugged you to him, his mouth a harsh press against yours. It felt like he was trying to devour you.

"I may not have been celibate, but I wasn't involved with anyone. No one could fill the hole that was left when you died. So I'm allowed to be jealous that while I thought you were dead, you were moving on."

Your heart felt like it was breaking. Carefully you moved so that you were kneeling next to him on the couch, your hands on his jaw to make him look at you. Yes, you could see he was jealous, but there was an ache in his chest as well that you could feel.

Distance. He felt so far from you right now and it hurt. You gently pulled him in for a kiss, soothing the hurt feelings between the two of you.

"I didn't move on from you Billy. I thought I'd never get to see you again or that you would have moved on. I thought I was a danger to you," you added as you traced a hand down his neck, letting him feel your power ripple across his skin.

"Y/N–"

"No, please, I just… I need to tell you all of this."

You stood up but kept one of his hands in yours. The rest of this would be hard to say, but you wanted him to know it was in the past. Needed him to believe that.

"I was involved with him but I didn't love him, not really. His power made his skin impenetrable so I felt like I could touch him without hurting him, but it wasn't love. Not for me."

Gregory had been a lifesaver when your life had been turned upside down. He had been there for you when you needed someone. You felt safe with him, but you never imagined your future with him.

Not like you had Billy.

And you told Billy as much, wanting him to know how you felt.

"You were—are—the only man I could ever want to be with, the one I want to spend my life with." You swallowed thickly and moved to sit beside him. "He tried to give me a ring, to propose that we get married and spend our lives together, but I refused."

It had felt so wrong when you saw the ring in the box. It was beautiful, without a doubt, but the man giving it to you wasn't Billy and it was wrong.

"Things moved pretty quickly after that. Most of the metas wanted to leave the creator and Gregory led the charge, got most of them away from him."

You remembered the night it happened as if it was yesterday. With most of the metas gone, the compound was quiet. The creator hadn't even reacted to learning he had been abandoned by his creations. Instead he'd taken one look at you and told you that he had a job for you.

The pentagon.

"This Gregory guy. That's who you went to see when you were gone for a few days."

It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact. You nodded, but then immediately shook your head.

"I didn't go to see him, not technically. I went to get my half of the things we had gotten over our time with the creator. When he left, he took it with him. But he wasn't at his safe house in Jersey and I wasn't able to get into his safe."

You left the living room and grabbed the duffle bag. Then you dropped it on the coffee table, unzipping it and showing him what you had.

"He knew I'd stopped by and brought this to me when I was practicing my powers today."

Billy barely looked at the bag. Instead his eyes moved around your face.

"So he knows how to find you."

You wanted to growl at that. Why couldn't he shake this jealousy? It was obvious that you had made your choice.

"He used another meta to help find me, yeah, but I'm trying to show you that I have–"

He cut you off.

"I can see what you have," he said as he nudged the bag, letting piles of money fall onto the coffee table.

He didn't care about the money or other valuable items you had amassed. You'd go as far as saying he didn't even care about how you had gotten those items, especially since his hands weren't exactly clean.

He was still hung up on your relationship with Gregory.

You could have screamed. You had the power to fry a man where he stood and shut down the electrical grid for the entire east coast, but Billy was worried about a guy you had already admitted to never loving.

"Do you know why Gregory sought me out? He came to me, he started the thing between us, he pursued me. Do you know why? Because the creator told him to."

You moved over and sat down next to Billy, grabbing his hand and making him look at you.

"The creator knew that I was hung up on you and that I'd likely never get over you. He told Gregory to distract me, to seduce me even. And he did it. Sure, his feelings became real, but what did he do when I was unable to return those feelings? He left me alone with the creator and stole the things that I had kept in order to get away."

You would never forgive Gregory for that.

Billy leaned his head in to rest against yours, his hand coming to squeeze the back of your neck.

"You walked around for two years with a ring hanging from a key chain when you believed I was dead," you reminded him emotionally as you held on tight to him.

"I'm sorry; I don't like sharing," he explained as he gave you a kiss.

"Billy, you aren't sharing me. I belong to no one but I chose you." You swung your leg around so that you could straddle his lap. "I'm waiting for us to sleep together because when I'm with you, I want the only sparks flying to be harmless."

You almost burnt down the bed after a nightmare. You were terrified about what could happen if the two of you had sex.

He shook his head as he tugged you closer, his lips finding yours easily.

"I'm not rushing you here, not really. I want to be with you, but I want you to be comfortable. If that means waiting, I'll wait."

You loved Billy so much in that moment. Of course you always loved him, had from almost the moment you met him, but you were learning there was no limit to how he made you feel.

And you wanted to be with him too. You had missed Billy in your time not-dead. You loved being back in his embrace, without a doubt, but you did miss being with him.

Billy rubbed his cheek against yours, his hands settling on your waist. You still sat straddling his lap, your knees tucked against the back of the couch and your hands perched on his shoulders.

You turned your head and brushed your lips against his.

"I want to try something," you mumbled as you straightened your back, your hands folding into fists against his chest. "Hold my hips."

He gave you a look, confusion marked with interest. He lowered his hands to your hips as you had asked and waited for you to explain.

Instead of explaining, you gave a slow roll of your hips, forward and down so that you could drag against his groin. His mouth dropped open a small amount as he realized what you were doing.

"You gonna hump me like we're in high school?"

You laughed as you did it again, feeling his cock twitch in his pants as you did. He swore something under his breath as his hands tightened on your hips.

"It's not much, but it's something," you responded with a breathless laugh as you continued to roll your hips.

It was definitely something. As you moved on top of him, your hands carefully pulled away so that you wouldn't accidentally burn him, Billy began to move his hips as well.

With him thrusting up into you and you rolling your hips down to meet him, you found yourself moaning. He was hard in his pants, the friction and heat of you turning him on more and more. And the way his hard cock felt pressed up so close to where you wanted it—needed it—was making you wet. An ache raised up in the pit of your stomach as you moved against him.

"Billy," you gasped as he moved harder against you.

He nodded to show he knew what you were saying, twisting his hips harder and faster, holding you still as he did most of the work.

Electricity hummed over your skin deliciously. The lights were flickering overhead, the television coming off and on, but you tried to ignore it. Instead you kept moving, your hands up and fisted tight.

It was getting more and more intense, the scent of Billy in your nose and on your skin. He leaned in to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as he got closer to his climax. As your own snuck up on you, your hands shot out in either direction. A shower of sparks erupted from you, but you barely noticed. Billy finished thrusting against you, his head falling back as you felt his cock twitching in his pants.

His arms wrapped around your body and he tugged you forward. You still had sparks running under your skin, but Billy didn't seem to mind. He nuzzled into your neck, pressing kisses there as he did. You sighed as your own hands went to wrap around his neck, tugging him in for a kiss.

"I know it's not the same," you mumbled against his lips, but he shook his head and silenced you with a kiss that stole your breath.

"I love you."

You pressed your forehead into his shoulder and let out a little laugh, hoping your eyes would be dry when you leaned back.

"I love you too."

After a few moments of rest and snuggling, you got off of Billy's lap and flopped onto the couch next to him. He got up and rearranged himself in his pants, making a face as he did so.

"I'm gonna clean up," he said as he shifted his hips, heading towards the bathroom.

You needed to as well, the dampness between your legs making you feel good but also gross. You'd let him finish up in there and then clean yourself up as well.

When you stood up to go get some clean underwear, you remembered the little light show you had put on when your orgasm hit you. The two of you obviously didn't feel the sparks, but you needed to make sure you didn't burn anything.

There didn't seem to be any scorch marks, nothing fried. None of the nearby electronics looked ruined either. Even after that impressive showing, there was nothing damaged?

Maybe you could trust yourself not to hurt Billy after all. Whatever it was in you that protected him from your powers, maybe it would continue to protect him.

You didn't want to take the risk, not yet, but it was something to think about at least.

X

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List @hermioneshandbag​ @onebatch--twobatch​ @smiley-celine​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @starless-skyox​ @youveseen--thebutcher​ @citation-is-here​ @mightymelly​ @realduckvader​ @1550kilogramsofsilver​ @hxbbit​ @rockintensse​ @missphanosaur18​ @thepuffyeyedpuff​ @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw​ @yessy2012​ @gingerstarlight​ @siriusement​ @marauderskeeper​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @wickidlady​ @sassygirl25​ @maraudereestauderelb​ @rainyboul​ @cutie-bug​ @random-quartz​ @holamor​ @lea----b​ @heyitslexy​ @detectivebourbon​ @coffeenmoscato​ @presstocontinue​ @elisemockingbird​ @assbuttwithwings​ @geeksareunique​ @siriuslovesmarlene​ @witch-of-letters​ @delicatelilyflower​ @l-l-c-m-w-b​ @whovianayesha​ @hiddenprincess​ @yannii04​ @brighteststarinthesky​ @kilyra​ @gallxntdean​ @sweetvengeancee​ @lady1505​ @thedarklightwithinus​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @siriuslyimmoony​ @elodieyung​ @fudgeflyss​ @madamrogers​ @thatwrestlingfan91​ @teranya​ @sophiabulbu69​ @delusionsofnostalgia​ @effielumiere​ @mamaraptor​ @hot-and-spiceyyy​ @i-padfootblack-things​ @aya-fay​ @bellamys​ @raquelbc2003​ @iwishyoucouldbekissed​ @taman-a​ @newtstarmander​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @blushingskywalker​ @queencocoakimmie​ @funerals-with-cake​ @love-dria​ @arrowswithwifi​ @swiftyhowlz​ @cheyfleur​ @dark-night-sky-99​ @margot-black​ @celestegolden​ @king4thesirens​ @beautifuldesastre​ @ashkuuuu​ @luminex3​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @iblogabout-stuff​ @curlyhairedblueeyedangel​ @myplaceofheavenorhell​ @nea90sweetie​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @lexxierave​ @binbons-is-theloml​ @lostinthoughts23​ @aikeia​ @christinawxxx​ @rhabakoli​ @leathergreygoddess @j-finco​ @jeaolusy @cafeconsoya @kryyta @russosprettydiamondnow @dorkybryan @mahalobro @yesixoxo @fcavalerro @jeanettexkillian

Let me know if you want to be added to my Billy Russo Tag List @something-tofightfor​ @piink-magnolias​ @hoodedhavok​ @aylinnmaslow​ @musingsofbanana​ @bluebird214​ @nerrdstark​ @that-bwitch​ @queenisabella789​ @colddecember-night​ @j-finco​ @arthoeaesthetixbs​​ @tomhiddlestonsbeard​ @mischiefs-never-managed​ @romanceyour-ego​ @evyiione​ @drinix​ @sweetheart-im-the-boss​ @katieswinforddiaries​ @benbarnesfanforever​ @releasethekracko​ @itsjustmylifeconfessions​ @aveatquevale-​ @clarasworldofwonders​ @ladyblablabla​​ @thehanneloner​ @hellostarposts​ @girlwhoisfearless​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​ @marcelskittel​ @fictionwillneverdie​ @avipshamitra​ @hysteriadarling​ @living-on-rice​ @hello-la-v-en-rose​ @marveliskindacool​ @balladblood​ @giggleberts​ @stateofloveandvedder​ @encounterthepast​ @ironstank​ @spettrocoli​ @xserenax-13​ @sleepwalkingelite​ @dreamingofonceuponatime​ @supernaturalcat7​ @rosebunnie​ @damagelove​ @petersunderoos96​ @dylanobrusso​ @littlemermaidprobz​ @agent-scully-182​ @editboutique​ @audreychaz​ @songforhema​ @tngrayson​ @gollyderek​ @honeyydippaa​ @saltyshaggymeme​ @mooniiieee​ @scorpiosmalfoy​ @woodlandreads​ @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @maria-beretta @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​ @ania2603 @screwmesiriusblack @figlia--della--luna @cloudywithachanceofcupcakes-blog @jessicahh @flightoftheflightrisk @slamharder @roschele @thebabblingbook @nostalgic-uncertainty @tiredofthisgeneration @abroadcastofthemind @ethereal-heavcns