#shaking in my boots. I want a can of coke or a monster is that too much to ask

[butterppretzel]

god what I wouldn’t give for a can of coke rn

[lubdubsworld]

Akrasia.

Happy Birthday To the Golden Maknae.

Here’s a little treat in lieu of Jungkook’s 24th Birthday!!!

Canon Compliant. 

Jungkook x OC

Word Count : 10K. 

Genre : Mild Angst. ( Happy'Ending) Jungkook X OC

Akrasia (noun) 

PHILOSOPHY    the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgement through weakness of will.

 Getting involved with someone like Jungkook is a bad idea. Do you even realize who he is? How much he’s worth? He’s easily one of the richest men in the country . He’s loved by everyone.

I wrapped the coat around myself, tighter. Everything that Lee Jiae had said was true. She was a popular idol . Someone who would actually make a good match for the Jeon Jungkook.

But even Jiae balked at the idea of going anywhere near someone like him.

Career suicide, she had said firmly. That would be career suicide, Areum. He has fangirls from all over the world. Billions of them. They will dig so deep into my past, find the most innocent of things and twist and turn it and the next thing I know, I’m being kicked out of my band, out of the company and on the streets. I don’t want that. And neither should you.

I shivered a bit. No, I thought honestly. I didn’t want that either. I was far from successful, just an up and coming soloist , with a very very niche fanbase. I did sell a lot of records and I made enough money to live comfortably but I was not a mainstream celebrity. I didn’t register on people’s radar because I stayed far away from the spotlight.

There was something about social media that made it a terrifying thing to me. It was so abstract and unreal and yet…it seemed almost like a sentient being.

A powerful sentient being that could potentially destroy my whole life.

It scared me.

And while Jungkook and BTS had conquered that particular monster, had leashed and saddled the beast and made it their own personal pet…. I didn’t want anything to do with that.

I don’t want that, I told myself firmly. I really don’t want that. I want to stay this way… make music I love… read the few dozen fan handwritten fan letters I received everyday, make the occasional appearance on a magazine cover and then just quietly retreat into my studio. I want this. And if I go anywhere near Jeon Jungkook, I’ll lose this. I’ll lose all of this.

My phone buzzed and I jumped, glancing around nervously. The late October wind was cold but not biting. Winter would come but not for a while. And yet my skin chilled in apprehension. I always felt guilty, picking up one of his calls in public. It felt like I was being watched, like everyone could hear me, on the phone …Could hear who I was talking to.

“Hello.” I whispered nervously, eyes flitting around to find a secluded spot in the park. It was early in the morning, still an hour away from sunrise and I quickly hopped over a small hedgerow and moved into a wooded area, away from the main path that had the occasional cyclist or jogger.

“You didn’t come.” His voice was honey, the way it dripped into my senses and made my breath catch. And yet it was the undercurrent of disappointment that tugged at my heart. Made guilt churn inside me in rapid little currents.

“Yes. Sorry.” I said quietly, picking my way past a few bushes to a bench a little way into the woods. It was rusty and damp because no one came here , and the darkness was absolute, only faintly broken by the dim glow of the streetlights hundred yards away. I settled into the bench nonetheless.

“Areum…. Don’t do this to me.” Jungkook said brokenly and I exhaled.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m being smart. And you should be too. You’re romanticizing something that was just…it was just a conversation. We had a conversation . That’s all that happened.” I said desperately. It was something I’d told myself over an over, these past few weeks. Weeks of avoiding his texts, of ignoring his calls.

Calls from his hyungdeul.

That had given me a whole heart attack.

“You’re just going to ignore me then? Toss my feelings away like they don’t matter?” He asked quietly and my heart clenched.

“You …” I shook my head.” You need to understand something. I’m not going to do this. I can’t afford to. I told you already Jungkook…we spent one evening talking..that’s it…we’re not dating..we don’t know each other well enough for you to be saying that you have feelings for me-“

“And I told you I don’t fucking care. “ He said sharply. “ One day… One hour…who cares? I believe in soulmates. Call me foolish and dumb but I do and when I saw you I felt that. And I know you felt it too.”

My mind flashed back to that evening. It was a private birthday party for a mutual friend. Barely a dozen of us had attended and Jungkook had been sneaking glances at me all evening, completely oblivious to the ay every woman in the room had their gaze glued on him. The party hadn’t been my thing at all and I’d sneaked away to the private terrace, accessible only through a rickety old fire escape and to my utter shock he had followed me up there.

The stars had been exceptionally bright that night,  but with Jungkook sitting on the tiled roof next to me, gazing at me with all that adoration, his doe  eyes had seemed to hold more of them than the night sky.

“What do you want, Jungkook?” I asked quietly.

“I want you. I know you want me. We …we understand each other. I want the same things you do. Do you even fucking realize how rare that is? To find someone who shares the same thoughts, the same dreams as you do? Who looks at the world the way you do… I… I am not foolish enough to think that there’s another girl out there who could connect to me the way you do. You call that a conversation…just a conversation…. Did you forget what kind of a conversation it was?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks ago  

The party had barely started and I was already itching to run home. There was a particular song lyric , stuck in my head like a loop and I wanted to put it on paper as soon as possible. I had this thing where seeing something on print helped me to elaborate on an idea. Directed my train of thought in that particular direction if you willed.

Mingyu was walking around, talking to his friends and making them laugh with his witty banter but I didn’t miss the way he shot me little glances. I gave him a quick thumbs up though, to let him know I was okay. He was a childhood friend, one of the few people I’d stayed in touch with through the years. And of course, being in the same industry meant a lot of shared interests.

I moved to the side bar with the drinks and appetizers, ordering myself a diet coke before hopping onto one of the stools. I watched the dozen or so people here….His bandmates, some other idols. I recognized Yugyeom from GOT7. They were all dressed in dressy casuals : flashy shirts and tight jeans and racy little dresses and I felt out of place in my long jean skirt and tasseled leather jacket.

Sighing, I turned back to my drink when a commotion near the door made me look up.

I felt my eyes widen when I saw who it was.

The Jeon Jungkook. From BTS.

I stared at him as did pretty much every person in the room.  Jungkook was easily one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life, tall and just…big. I stared at the broad shoulders, the huge arms and the taut line of his abdomen, tapering into a narrow waist and long, long legs with muscular thighs. He was wearing a black shirt, unbuttoned all the way to his chest and skinny blue jeans with black boots.

I smiled, genuinely awed. Jungkook looked every bit like the untouchable superstar he was and I considered that the party hadn’t been a waste after all. The chances of me running into someone like that in person were pretty slim.

Almost at once he was surrounded and I watched as his ears turned red, gaze shifting away and an almost soft shyness in the way he bowed politely . A hesitation to be put on the spot but also a need to stay polite , probably. Laughing a bit , I watched him some more and then his gaze lifted to mine. To my surprise, his eyes went wide in what was clearly recognition.

What.

I watched as he quickly bowed and said something to the people around him before picking his way to me. My entire body went taut with surprise.

“Lee Areum ssi…” He stuttered, eyes wide and I could only gape. “ I’m a huge fan.”

I blinked.

What.

What.

“You know who I am?” I asked , mildly horrified and he laughed nervously, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his palm across his nose before laughing a little.

“Your voice is just… something about your songs…they help me sleep when I’m too exhausted to relax.” He said softly and I felt warmth pool inside me.

“Too exhausted too sleep. That doesn’t sounf good...”

Jungkook chuckled.

“Its not. It usually happens when we’re preparing for a comeback. It different with concerts you know…we’re exhausted because we’ve been running around …singing…its all physical…mostly. And that’s easy to brush aside and sleep. But comebacks…there’s that nervousness. The worry that things may not be as good as they were. Constantly having to keep up to standards. “ He shook his head. “ it can get exhausting.”

It was something deep and oddly tragic and I was stunned that he’d shared something so… personal. To a literal stranger. But the urge to soothe..to comfort and reassure him in some way was over powering.

Instinctively, I leaned closer and lightly touched his forearm .

“But you are the standard, now, Jungkook ssi. What BTS has done, others can only dream of reaching. You’ve brought this….utopian idea that you can love yourself just the way you are… and that’s amazing. I understand the need to meet expectation but I think you’ve earned the right to sleep without being burdened by them.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, staring into my eyes and I felt my pulse kick up a notch, my eyes taking in the beautiful features and my throat went dry when his gaze dropped to where my fingers lightly brushed the soft fabric of his shirt sleeve.  

“Oppa…Let’s dance.” A shrill voice behind him made us both jump and I quickly pulled my hand away. Panicking, I turned away from him fully, ducking my head so my hair could cover my face. There was a dull roaring in my head, making it hard to hear what he was saying but a second later he moved away from the bar and I exhaled sharply.

Shaking I turned back to my drink.

Another twenty minutes of trying to avoid looking at Jungkook, I gave up. This wasn’t my kind of place at all and after a quick word with Mingyu, I moved to the small balcony in the side, desperate for some fresh air. But the moment I stepped out, my eyes fell on the rickety ladder like stairs, rusty and clearly a death trap. I quickly moved to the ledge and peered up at the roof. It was a little inclined but nothing dangerous. And there was a barricade that would break my fall, just in case I slipped.

Thrilled at the prospect of doing something that was both foolish and fancy free, I quickly, climbed on to the ladder, climbing all the way over to the top and throwing my legs over the iron railing before carefully walking overt to the center of the roof. Grinning to myself, I settled on the slightly damp tiles.

“You’re lucky the ladder didn’t break .” Jungkook’s voice made me yelp and I stared as he quickly jumped over the railing himself, grinning and wiping his hands on his thighs.

“Oh my god, people are going to find us here!” I hissed, terrified and he laughed.

“Don’t worry. I told them I’m going home.”

“You lied?” I shook my head in disbelief and Jungkook hummed.

“Did I?” He pretended to think. “ Doesn’t feel like I did.”

It took me a few seconds for the implication to sink in.

I looked away, blushing a bit.

“Did I come on too strong?” He moved to sit next to me, just a foot away.

I shook my head.

“No. I’m just.. I didn’t expect you to know me. We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“There’s a very cliché line in my head about how you’ve been running in circles in my head for a long time but I’ll save that for our first date.” He said with a laugh and I blushed deeper.

“Date?” I shook my head, “ That’s not funny.”

“Good. Because it wasn’t a joke. Let me take you out to dinner sometime.”

I stared at him, trying to look for the punchline because even if he denied it, it was still laughable. The mere idea of it.

“Don’t turn me down Areum ssi.” He said softly and I swallowed.

“I won’t if you take it back.” I said quietly.

He sighed.

“Then…when you sang about wanting to give love a chance…wanting to free fall for once without worrying about the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, wanting to soar into the sky without thinking of the ropes trying to tether you to the ground….were you joking?”

I gaped at him.

“that’s.. those are… Those are lines from before my debut.” I said shakily.

“Like I said… I’ve been a fan for a long time.” Jungkook whispered.

The night was magical. Cool and refreshing and the night sky was resplendent, the lack of clouds offering a stellar view of the stars and yet, I found myself drawn to the galaxies swirling in his doe eyes. The strong nose and the cherry red lips, now being worried between slightly large front teeth as he stared at me with all the nervousness of a young boy.

But he wasn’t a boy. He was a man.

And this wasn’t a love song.

This was real life.

“Free falling is fun when you don’t know what you’re falling into. But when you do know that there’s a lot of pain at the end of the fall, its not something you want to experience.”

“Areum…”

“I’m flattered.” I said quickly. “ Beyond flattered…really. But… I can’t.”

“Okay. But don’t leave. Stay here with me.. for a while. Let’s talk.” He said quickly.

Jungkook was handsome and the night was still young. This maybe the last time I would ever see him and I was honest. It was flattering, receiving attention from someone like that.

I hesitated before sighing and nodding.

“Okay…let’s talk.” I smiled, throwing caution to the winds.

And talk we did. About everything and nothing. As the night grew darker, Jungkook relaxed next to me, laughing as he shared anecdotes about his members, about his family, about his brother. And then naturally about how successful they were these days and Jungkook told me that there was always a downside to fame but he enjoyed the love he received. That he loved his fans for how they treated him and his brothers.

“Fame comes with a price but it’s a small price to pay…being loved for what I do..being accepted the way I am…it feels good.” He said quietly.

“It’s not always that way though.” I pointed out honestly. “ You guys are … I won’t say lucky because you’ve definitely worked hard but you’ve been more fortunate than the rest. Sometimes the spotlight can be a terrifying place to be.”

“you forget that we were once one of the most hated idols in the country..” He laughed. “ Trust me I know.”

“I didn’t know about you guys till you got on the Billboard. And you’re an amazing singer as well.” I said softly.

He grinned , playing with the bracelets on his wrist.

“Thank you.” He said sweetly.

We stayed quiet for a few seconds, staring up at the sky.

“I’ve never been attracted to fame.” I told him honestly.” Of course it holds its charms I suppose but I’ve always preferred the quiet of being obscure, you know. Like this secret that only a few get to learn in their lifetime.” I laughed. “ A hidden treasure maybe? Its why I started a Youtube channel instead of auditioning. Because only people who genuinely liked my music would get more of me. ” I smiled.

Jungkook hummed.

“When you first started singing your own songs on your YouTube channel? It was kind of around the same time we won our first daesang…” He smiled. “ In the MMA.”

“Oh…Really?” I asked surprised. That was nearly five years ago.

“Yeah. And till then..it was just your voice that I got to hear. You talked a bit but mostly it was just you covering someone else’s songs. And well, after we won the daesang I felt …lonely? Kind of? Scared maybe. And then you sang, ‘ White Dove’ a couple of days later and the lyrics…they just resonated with me you know. It made me feel like I knew you… Like you were a friend.”

I swallowed.

“I..thank you.” I whispered quietly, staring at my hands.

“And when you refused to sign with SM or YG. You also refused to monetize your videos on Youtube. You said your voice was your gift and you didn’t want to make money from something you’d received for free yourself. That …I loved that.”

“You’re like that too. You post your covers and songs on soundcloud for free as well.” I said quietly and he smiled.

“Like I said…we have a lot in common.” He smiled.

I smiled, shaking my head.

“I envy you.” He said quietly and I glanced at him.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just… You’re so untouched by all this. By me. It may sound incredibly narcissistic but people swoon when they see me for the first time but…you’re just you…. And that just makes me remember that you’re amazing and beautiful and you have such beautiful mind and you’re just… you’re so far out of my league. You’re so content with what you have and I wish I could be that way….But I …I can’t help but be greedy.”

“Greedy?”

“To do more. To want more. I know I should be happy that I even got to meet you . I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in these two hours , sitting here talking to you. But I’m still greedy for more.” He stared at me with an intensity that was electric.

“More what?” I laughed.

“More of this. More of you. More of you and me together. More of us.”

“Us?” I laughed, shaking my head. “ There’s no us , Mr. Jungkook . you need to forget about that.”

“ I don’t think I can.” He said suddenly.

I felt the smile fade from my face.

“Jungkook.”

“Your song … Utopia… where you write about your idea of the perfect world. I… I loved it.” He said shakily.

“Jungkook , wait…”

“All of these days, when I listened to your songs, I would make it personal.. It would be about how those words applied to my life but with Utopia… that world you talk about …where you can be yourself, where you can sing whatever you want, be whoever you want…. When I heard that song…it became about you. About us.. I… that world you dream of.. I want to give that to you.”

My jaw dropped and I exhaled in disbelief.

“Do you realize how ridiculous that is? Your fans…our companies… Everyone will lose their minds.” I whispered, horrified.

He nodded.

“I know. I know I shouldn’t ask you this. Because it goes against my better judgement. But I can’t help. I still want to choose this. Choose you. So if there’s a word for that.. That is how I feel.”

“I.. I should go.” I said nervously, making to move but he reached out an gently gripped my wrist.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” He asked quietly and I shook my head.

“No.. I don’t.” I said quietly.

“Good. Because neither do I. But I do believe in people who can understand you better than anyone else can. Just give me a chance. One date.”

I stayed quiet staring at my feet. There was so much to consider but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him and say no. He looked so hopeful.

“I’m busy for a couple of weeks. But there’s a beautiful terrace restaurant in Itaewon that I know. We’ll have complete privacy . I’ll get my chauffeur to pick you up. No one ill know. I just want to spend some time with you over dinner and if you have a good time….. we can meet again.”

And then what?

“I…I’ll try. But I can’t promise anything.“ I said honestly.

“That’s good enough for me. Can I have your number at least?” He asked finally.

I nodded and quietly put it into his phone.

“I’ll make the reservation and send you the details. And Areum?”

I glanced up at him.

“I’ve been free falling since I met you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply.

“I do.” I said quietly. “ I do remember.”

“I haven’t stopped falling. I keep listening to your songs on loop… Because I can’t bear the thought of being away from you , of not being connected to you in some way…”

“You’re so .. you’re so intense.” I whispered shakily and he laughed.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. It’s just the way I am… I’m here you know. The restaurant I told you about. And my chauffeur is at your home. But he told me he couldn’t find you. It’s the middle of the night . where are you?”

I sighed.

“In the park opposite my house.”

Jungkook didn’t respond for a second.

“Do you want me to ask him to leave?” He asked quietly.

I took a deep breath.

“ Akrasia. “ I breathed out nervously.

“What…”

“its when someone makes a decision…against their better judgement.” I laughed nervously. “When we had that conversation , you asked me if there was a word for it. For acting against your better judgement. Akrasia is the word you’re looking for .”

He stayed quiet on the other end.

“Okay.” He said finally. “ Well, are you going to be akratic with me?” he said finally.

“Ask your driver to leave for now. And come meet me in my apartment tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.”

Jungkook didn’t respond.

“That way we’ll have more privacy.” I said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dating Jungkook was a lot of pain. Just as I’d anticipated. It was sitting by and watching him work himself down to the bone. It was watching people throw themselves at him and not being able to say a word. To the world he was single. And the number of women who called and hounded him was unnatural.

And he worked so hard that my heart ached for him.

One night, he missed dinner and I couldn’t reach him on the phone. I stayed up , sitting on my bed, waiting.

He came back at exactly at three in the morning. He didn't turn on the light but the moonlight through the window was sufficient to let me know that he looked terrible. i watched him shrug out of his jacket, leaning against the table , long legs crossed and crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He tugged at his tie with a sort of tired , half hearted gesture and i smiled.

i watched him for sometime, seeing him shrug out of his shirt and change into a simple white t shirt. He moved with a sort of graceful strength. Like every single cell of his body had the same confidence that he did. 

It was like a dream, i realized as another dull ache of pain twisted my heart. It was like i'd slept and woken up in someone else's dream. A dream where it was okay for me to look at him and feel things for him , without fighting to convince herself that it was dangerous. That it was going to end in heartbreak.  

As i watched him prepare for bed, i wondered when I had started falling so hard.  

The sound of the door closing, made me look up , shaken out of my thoughts. Jungkook was locking the door behind him. 

When he moved to the bed, i decided to let him know that i was awake. 

"You're back?" i said softly. 

He hesitated, clearly startled , before smiling at me. It was a weak smile, one that practically screamed exhaustion and i sat up straighter,  watching as he moved to me side and gently stroked me hair. 

"Why aren't you asleep?" He smiled. 

"I was waiting for you." i said honestly holding my hand out and he took it, kissing it obediently. 

"you'll have to wait longer, I'm afraid. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with PDnim and I still haven't prepped for it. I need to get an hour's sleep and get back to work. " Up close he looked so tired that i felt my heart clench in panic. 

"You don't look good." i said, alarmed as i realized that his skin had a distinctively grayish tinge to it.

"Comeback times are always that way. Never good for my health." He said teasingly. He checked his phone messages before turning to me and smiling.  

"I see you've been cutting back on the pain killers... are you feeling better than?" He asked. I’d been down with some menstrual cramps earlier and I was touched that he remembered, even in the mess of his schedule.

"I wish you wouldn't change the topic everytime I try to show concern for you."  i said , a little bit annoyed. He grinned and touched my cheek with his forefinger. 

"Just the fact that you are concerned is enough for me . anything more and I might die of happiness. you don't want that do you?" He winked. 

Deciding that it was impossible to talk with the man, i asked him if he wanted something to drink. 

He shook his head and climbed in next to me but before laying down, he turned to me. 

He hesitated. 

"Will you lend me your shoulder for the night?" He said softly , placing his hand there. 

i sighed as he leaned against me . His skin felt warm against me, his hair lightly tickling me cheekbones and i threaded me finger through the silky strands. 

In just a few seconds, he was fast asleep. 

I stayed awake, watching the room grow steadily brighter, the weak winter sun gently finding its way into the room , much like the way the man in my arms was gently finding his way into my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"We should get a house, don't you think?" i said two months later, sitting up in bed , eating dinner while i watched him work on his files. He'd placed the desk in the far corner of the room, giving me the perfect view. And i was beginning to enjoy it a lot more than the one i could see out the window. 

" A house? " Jungkook stopped and looked up. " You want to live with me ? Just the two of us?" He smiled.

Well, when he put it that way. I balked and ducked my head. 

"It's too soon isn't it..I'm sorry I don't know why I..."

"What kind of a house would you prefer? Flat? Penthouse? Apartment? Duplex? Tell me....I'll get you the listings and you can pick out the ones you like . When you get better we can go pick one out." He grinned at me and i relaxed against the pillows , while he went back to his files. 

"I read something online…” i said casually . He didn't look up, merely humming to acknowledge that he'd heard me. 

"Did you date Lee Hyeri ?" i finally said. He stopped and looked at me. 

"Yes. Many months ago. I broke up with her because I wasn’t feeling anything serious and I didn’t want to lead her one. She didn’t take it very well. ." He said softly, moving towards the bed and sitting on the edge. As was his habit, he reached for my hand, holding it in his and tracing circles with his thumb.

“She called me.” I said quietly and he stiffened.

“Shit.”

I laughed.

“She wanted to meet me . Wanted to talk about something although I have an idea what. I’m not going to indulge her though.”

“If she calls again, you should tell her that her obsession is bordering on stalking and I’m on the verge of getting a restraining order. She turned up at my studio too. Went on an on about how I broke her heart and cheated on her . ”

 i hesitated , looking away from him and smiling. 

"I don't know . Should I?" i shook my head. i hesitated, pulling my hand away from him. "What else did she say?" i said suddenly, remembering how angry she had sounded on the phone.

"Nothing, you need to worry about. Are you done with this? Shall I clean it up?" He reached for my dinner tray and i grabbed his wrist. 

"where are you going?  You should tell me what she said." i protested, but he gently pried my fingers off before dropping a kiss on me forehead .

"And You should tell me when you're going to start staying over at my apartment.. It's going to snow in a few days. Or so they say. I thought you might like to enjoy the first snow with me..." He smiled . 

I took the subtle hint to drop the subject.

"You're being too wonderful. It makes my heart ache." i snuggled into my bed and pouted at him. He laughed at that. 

"Take rest. I have a meeting right now. I'll be back late so you should sleep." 

I watched him leave, feeling oddly bereft. I was growing to love him deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As with every couple in the world, our fights were often over the silliest things.

"You're still angry." I said casually, watching him work on his documents, the low burning desk light setting his features in sharp relief. He looked at me for a second and shook his head.

"I'm not angry , Areum. I'm busy. There is a difference." He said with a sigh, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye. I watched the gesture and sat up straighter in bed, leaning over the side to stare at the clock there. It read 1.15 Am.

"It's snowing." I said softly, getting one my knees and peering out the windows. Through the haze of moonlight, I watched the small flakes drift down over the neatly cut hedgerows, making each segment of the garden look like neat cut slices of cake with vanilla cream frosting. I grinned at the little wisps of cotton white snow, clinging to each little branch on the trees and felt my heart swell with joy. 

"I suppose you're too busy to make good on your promise." I said naughtily, peering over my shoulder to glance at him. 

"Promise?"

"That you'll walk with me , in the first snow." I said, turning around and getting out of bed, slipping my feet into my fur slippers. I watched him fight with himself , the emotions warring across his handsome face and held my breath.

finally he sighed and stood up. I tried to keep the triumphant grin off my face and failed miserably. I felt awful, because deep down I had known that no matter how angry or upset he was, Jungkook would never break a promise. And I'd worded my request that way, just to take advantage of that little chink of honor that he always lived by. 

"Alright then. Let's go take a walk in the first snow." He said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You love snow."

"How did you know that?" I said surprised, lightly grabbing the low lying branch till it showered both of us with soft white flakes. 

"You make these little sounds , everytime you see  snow. I've noticed it from the time we met." Jungkook grinned . 

I laughed and turned away. I felt like I was standing in the middle of a fairytale, the white landscape making me feel like some exotic Ice Queen. I walked ahead of him, running a few steps till I was about ten feet ahead of him. I turned around, facing him as I walked backwards. He laughed at that. 

"Be careful. The snow looks soft but the fall will hurt." He warned me, putting his hands in his pockets and narrowing his shoulders to fight the chill. I smiled and shook my head.

"I want to look at you and make sure that you're not angry with me anymore." I said, enjoying the way he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not angry. I told you that."

"Yes. You did. But i didn't tell you I'm sorry, did I?" I said softly, stopping in my tracks and watching as he drew closer. Jungkook gave me a curious glance, walking slowly till he was just in front of me.

"I'm sorry I said I'll leave you." I said honestly. He looked surprised but smiled nonetheless.

"Duly noted." He bowed his head, tipping an imaginary hat at me. Smiling, I turned around I ran a few more steps and instinctively knelt on the ground

"Don't ." He said suddenly. 

I  looked up from where I was gathering a handful of snow. I gave him an innocent smile. 

"What?" 

"I know what you're thinking. don't do it." He said, taking a step back. I felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through me, realizing that the big bad wolf was actually scared of being hit by a snowball. 

"You should know why I like snow so much.." I grinned with mischief and he gave me a look of disbelief.

"I don't think you can hit me. You're forgetting that i'm an expert at taekwondo.”

I held my hand up and threw , cursing when he casually stepped out of the way, laughing at the look on my face. 

"You have to concentrate on what you're doing. Anticipate my next move and react accordingly." He advised, bending down to get some snow for himself. 

"React to this!!" I grabbed two handfuls of snow and ran straight at him, grinning as I leapt on him.

We landed on the snow, Jungkook  on his back and I right on top of him, laughing as I smeared the snow on his face. He spluttered in disbelief and swiftly, threw his weight over, pinning me to the ground and straddling me, fingers swiftly grabbing my wrists and pushing my hands over my head, leaving me vulnerable and helpless, as he shook his head , showering me with ice cold flakes. 

I squeaked in surprise and he laughed hard.

Watching him laugh, full and open , I realized that I'd never watched him laugh that way before.

He looked exhilarated. 

Yanking my hand out of his grasp, I grabbed his collar, pulling him down for a kiss. 

the first touch of his lips to mine, felt like the sweetest, coolest sip of crystal waters after a lifelong thirst . 

I sank into the snow, sighing into the sweetness and the gentle pressure of his lips against me, the first touch of his tongue, making heat seep through my body, despite the cold. I curled my fingers into the fur near his neck, smiling into the kiss as he slipped one hand into my hair, gently tilting my head for better access. 

He kissed me softly. He kissed me deeply.

He kissed me like that was what he'd been put on the earth to do. 

But mostly he kissed me like that was all he wanted .

It was so absurdly romantic that I wanted to laugh .

I could catch whiffs of his scent, even though my eyes were watering and mey nose felt like it was running. Some elusive cologne mixed with the scent of  clean male skin . It made me heat up in ways that curled my toes in my fur boots. Each little kiss lasted a little longer than the one before, till I was certain that I was going to melt into the snow. And each little breath felt like a little wisp of my soul leaving my body and mingling with his. 

We kissed and kissed and kissed, while the snow fell in white flakes around us .

First Snow. first kiss, I thought happily. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After our little episode in the garden, I found that I felt something akin to desperation everytime I came in contact with Jungkook.

It's not that I woke up one day and realized that something had changed in the way I watched Jungkook.

. That my eyes lingered, not just on his face but on the curve of his lips, the edge of his jaw, the exposed skin of his neck. My fingers wanted to reach out and  grip, not just the strength of his shoulders and the slender digits of his hand but also his lean waist.

I began losing my mind, slowly and painfully. Suffocating when Jungkook got too close , choking when he went away too far.

As they spent time together, Jungkook began touching me.

. Not too often and never in an intrusive way , but every time his fingers traced the back of my palm or brushed back my hair, my  throat went dry and my heart stopped pumping blood and I felt like like a fool because I had no idea if Jungkook felt half of what I was feeling.

In fact I was certain that Jungkook didn’t feel anything at all.

What I was feeling was painful and confusing and if Jungkook felt any of it, he would be running as far away from me as possible, not moving closer and closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you so nervous?” Jungkook laughed and I bit my nails nervously, glancing around the reception hesitantly. The workers were all busy, no one spared us so much as a glance but I couldn’t help but feel terrified.

“It’s only us here? For the whole weekend? No one else?” I asked again for the hundredth time.

Jungkook groaned, shaking his head and ignoring me, holding his hand out for the keys to our cottage. I yelped a bit when he began walking away without waiting for me, running to keep up with his long strides.

“Sorry…I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” I said quietly, slipping my hand into his, linking our fingers together and smiling a little.

He squeezed my hand gently before pulling away to wrap me in a one armed huge, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“I booked the entire resort for the weekend. The staff have all signed a confidentiality agreement. No one is going to know we’re here. You can be as loud as you want.” He whispered and I yelped, hitting his chest,” let me finish….” He laughed. “ When you yell at me. You can be as loud as you want when you yell at me.”

“You’re a terrible person.” I whispered , burying my face into his arm in mortification.

Jungkook merely laughed .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You seem tense." He said that evening, as the pair of us sat on the back deck , glasses of bubble tea in hand , watching the waves break out on the rocks. Slow but persistent , gradually breaking the rock's resistance and carving its way into its heart.

"Can we ever …truly be relaxed ?" I asked , a little bit of desperation in my tone. Jungkook didn’t turn to look at me . Instead he took a picture of the rocks and the sea with his phone.

"That's a pretty loaded question. With a lot of answers."

I stared  at him, wondering why I was more confused now than before.

"Sometimes I can't understand you at all." I said quietly, shaking my head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” He said softly.

I hesitated before nodding.

“That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys dropped by for a visit the next day.

I sat down on the open deck, opposite Namjoon for a game of chess. Jungkook slid into the armchair next to me.

"Are you winning?" Jungkook asked quietly and I shot  him a glare, which gets a smile in return promptly. It was like he always knew what to say , how to manipulate my thoughts and emotions, how to make me look and feel a certain way , just so he could steal that part of mr away.

How evil.

At first I didn’t  notice that he was sitting a bit too close for comfort, because as such, we've lived on top of each other for quite a while now. But after a while I became  aware of the warmth of his thigh, solid and strong against my own, evident even through the layers of jean separating them.

I  tried to move away, surreptitiously, but Jungkook only moved closer.

"Try this."

His fingers fluttered over my thigh, intentionally or not I would never know, reaching for my queen and I tried not to jump out of my skin, gritting my teeth as my muscles stiffened, my nerves tingling like electric.

I licked my lips and Jungkook’s  eyes flickered up at the movement, a gentle smile tugging at his lips and my gut clenched in embarrassment. But the brunette moved even closer, his bare arm now brushing against mine  and I had to swallow the desperate urge to get up and just run.

"Well, this is entertaining." Namjoon said suddenly and i looks at my opponent for the first time since Jungkook’s  arrival. Namjoon was leaning back in his armchair, amusement shining out of his eyes .

I scrambled  in a bid to put space between Jungkook and I and failed miserably.

"He's just helping me with chess." I said desperately.

"Oh, is that what they call it these days?" Namjoon leaned forward looking very intrigued.

Jungkook reached out and clonked him on the head but his eyes were laughing and I wondered how this was going to end. I wanted it. Wanted to take that final step with Jungkook but I was also so , so scared.

Would it change things. For the better? For worse?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook, I soon realized, took the way I was shying away from him , as some sort of a twisted challenge to get closer than ever. The more I moved away, the closer Jungkook gets , touching me in gentle intimate little touches and every time he did,  a slow simmering fire started at the pit of my stomach, reaching out in gentle upward licks , drying my throat and turning my insides into molten goo.

She's almost tempted to ask Jungkook if he feels the same way but she's saved the trouble later that week.

"I want you."

I froze on the spot, fingers stopping in mid air, inches from picking up a slice of apple, neatly placed on the tray. We were in the dining room,  Jungkook sitting with a set of files spread out in front of him and me with a knife and a few uncut apples in a basket.

"You..what?" I squeaked.

" I'm attracted to you and I really want to have sex with you." Jungkook said  , almost carefully.

Like he was announcing the weather. Like his words weren’t carefully calculated to turn my world upside down.

"Alright. " I whispered, not even sure what else I could say to that.

I stole a glance at Jungkook who was grinning from ear to ear. I felt blush rushing up my body, the blood flooding my face so quick it made me dizzy..

"Don't .. Don't look at me like that." I whispered, mortified to sound like a sixteen year old girl.

"Do you want me to leave now?" Jungkook reached out , placing a soft hand on my palm and it took all my  willpower not to grab Jungkook and hug him. Instead I managed a weak smile. My mind was a few seconds away from collapsing in on itself and I was too stunnedto think straight.

So I answered the question at face value.

"No, I don't want you to leave now. "

"Okay. Go ahead, eat your fruit. It's good for you."

Jungkook smiled again, serene and perfectly at peace with the world.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At eleven thirty on Saturday night, both Jungkook and I sneaked out of the hotel, arms laden with our picnic basket and coats draped over our shoulders. Once we reached  large pond in the outer edge of the property, Jungkook made quick work of the blanket, spreading it out on the artificial lawn that surrounded it.

I settled down on it, reaching out and dipping my legs in the water. It's a bit chilly but only for a second. I wriggled my toes playfully and Jungkook slipped a bit closer to me, letting his foot sink in next to mine.

We played around for a while, splashing water on each other and then I pulled my legs out.

"You okay?" Jungkook asked softly and I turned around to stare at him , a little apprehensive. There are so many things wrong with this , a part of me screams. But there's a part of me that longs, so badly , for this simplicity. Longs and has longed, all my life. Just this, the chance to relax and be myself and play around with water in the moonlight.

"I'm not sure." I admitted, honestly.

"Tell me. " Jungkook said and for once his voice isn't relaxed. Instead it's a bit urgent and anxious.

"We're not... I’m so scared that we'll never make it, you know." I sighed, dipping my legs back into the water, just as Jungkook pulled his out.

"Why? Because of the media ?" There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice and I hated myself for bringing this up. We were supposed to be spending time together, enjoying each other’s company. I wasn’t sup[posed to be ruining the mood like this.

"It's nothing. I just.. I don't want you to get hurt." I said honestly.

"Because of you? Because I'm with you?" Jungkook's voice was lot softer now, the bitterness replaced by concern.

"I.. Yes.. I mean... I'm.."

"You're a gorgeous young woman who is intelligent and charming. Why would I ever give you up?" Jungkook asked, reaching out and wrapping an arm around my shoulder but I couldn’t help but sigh.

"That's.. that's not what everyone else thinks." I reminded him. “ And that not what they’ll say, if you ever tell them the truth about us.”

"No it isn't. And I won't say something stupid like , it doesn't matter what others think. Because it does, I know it does. And it's going to hurt. In fact I think it would hurt you a lot more than it would hurt me. But if I don't... If I don't take a chance with us... that's going to hurt me too. So its a choice. I can either  choose to get hurt by people I don't give a damn about , and in return I get... get to be with someone I really...like…..

"Or, I give up the woman I love and get hurt by my own decision. " Jungkook finished.

"We hurt either way." I smiled bitterly, Jungkook's words making a lot of sense.

"Yes. All you need to choose is , what's worth the hurt? Being with me, or society's approval?" Jungkook leaned forward slightly and I blinked.

We stayed that way staring at each other for a second and then he pulled away and sighed deeply.

"I've already chosen, I. I'm not pushing you, but I hope you'll pick me." He said quietly.

I stared into the night, thoughtfully. So easy, I told myself. So easy to turn around right now and kiss Jungkook, tell him that I didn’t deserve so much happiness. That my heart was so light, I wanted to spout wings and fly.

So easy but so frightening.

The wind picked up somewhere and somehow a draught found its way inside and I shivered a little, only to have a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulder. Jungkook snuggled in with me and we huddled together

My thoughts tripped over each other  and I wanted to run away but I stayed still, letting the gentle lap of the water against my toe, calm my inner turmoil.

"It's just you and me." Jungkook whispered, " Right now. Just you and me. Let's pretend we're the only ones on the planet."

I turned around to the brunette in surprise but Jungkook's looking out into the water, lit by a full moon from the skylight.

"Just you and me. " He said absently and I nodded, looping my fingers with Jungkook's. We sat in silence, pressed against each other and I waited till the moon slipped behind a cloud before turning around, slightly, and pressing my lips against Jungkook's.

It's soft and very short, over before it even begins and Jungkook smiled into the kiss.

  Explicit Content : 

       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook teasingly pushes her back and Areum falls back against the soft mattress, like she's been shoved. She melts into the kiss and then Jungkook’s lips move away, dragging his teeth and tongue over the exposed expanse of her neck, lightly sucking and biting and then soothing with his tongue. Areum gasps and struggles and fights for air, before dragging their lips together again.

Jungkook kisses her until she's splayed flat against the bed, eyes wide and lost and lips parted, blush staining her cheeks and then Jungkook's reaching out to the table and pulling his camera , snapping a picture.

"You're such a weirdo!" Areum laughs , too turned on to be annoyed.

"No, just a man. A man in love." Jungkook leans down, pushing his hips down into hers and she gasps at the friction. They make quick work of their jeans and suddenly its skin on skin and she's not sure if she's doing this right.

"Jungkook.. I..I.."

"Hey, relax. I got you." Jungkook holds her close, just holding her, cradling her almost and the familiar words smooth away her apprehensions and he's moving closer, trying to pull more sounds out of her, his lips tracing the line of her chest, tongue swirling around one nipple before moving down and down, dipping lightly into her belly button.

And then the camera is tossed to the side, Jungkook flipping them over with ease , his lips moving down , tongue dipping into the curve of her waist down and then further down , lightly licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves near her center and Areum's pretty certain she loses her mind at that point.

"You're amazing." He whispers, and she nearly flies off the bed when Jungkook slides a single digit in, slowly , so slowly. She’s wet and ready but her body is still stuck in auto pilot and she wants to close her legs instinctively.

"Relax for me." Jungkook whispers, lips close to her ear, licking and teasing .

"I'll make it good. Just relax for me." Jungkook says again,  gently, lapping at her neck and Areum unclenches her thighs letting him work his way in, sighing when the slide becomes a little more easy and a little more familiar.

"So beautiful." Jungkook whispers and Areum laughs, shaking her head.

"It's dark, you can't even see-"

"I can’t see but I can feel you. i can feel you and you’re so fucking gorgeous." He slips another finger in and curls his fingers against the walls of her insides and the gentle press of the pad of his finger is too much and not enough , all at once. Her head falls back into the pillow, all coherency leaving her body in a single whoosh of breath.

"Look at me. Only me." She whispers when Jungkook thrusts into her for the first time and Jungkook nods shakily and he pushes in, leaving her trembling at the ache and the pain and wanting to cry out, but she swallows it all down because she knows it’s going to get better .

"Don't wander off. " Areum whispers, pulling him down for a kiss and Jungkook pushes in deeper, earning a gasp. He wishes he could explain, that he can't ever think of anything but her because she is the perfect dream.

“I love this. I love you. “ she whispered and he had to physically restrain himself from burying himself to the hilt inside her. Her body was still getting used to him. He didn’t want to hurt her but God, she felt so amazing around him. the heat and wetness driving him crazy in a way that couldn’t be explained.

“Hold me tight.”

And she did.

With her arms and her legs and her body and her.....everything.

When she clenched around him, his mind went blissfully blank, her orgasm hitting him like an earth shattering, bone melting , heart stopping explosion of bliss.  

He fell against her, careful not to crush her with his weight and rolled to the side gathering her close.

Someday he would hurt her, he was sure of it. He was an idiot after all and he knew he would find a way to muck this up and ruin it for them but for now, he wasn’t going to think about any of that.

For now, he was going to enjoy the intimacy of making love to the woman he loved.

 Author’s Note : Hope you guys liked it! it was supposed to be very angsty but its really not lol....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[believeitseeitdoit]

A Defiled Uniform

Steve x reader x Bucky , Steve Rogers x reader , Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: the boys find a particular garment in your stuff, and set out to fulfill an old fantasy in the bedroom

Rating: 18+, don’t touch this if you are under age please, and sweet Jesus wrap it up folks,

Warnings: CW brief discussion of religion and old style school punishments, SMUT, 3 some, if it isn’t your style, don’t read (I’ll be less offended if you ignore it than if you read it and get cranky), blowjobs, spanking, man on man kissing, dirty talk, language, teacher kink … let me clarify the reader is 100% of age and consenting to the scene!!!

The boys are helping you pack up your apartment so you can move to the compound up North with them. Natasha is helping you wrap dishes in the kitchen while Steve and Bucky tuck your clothes into suitcases from your closet. Classic rock plays throughout, windows open letting fresh air flow, and you can hear Sam bickering with the spiderling about what order to pack your furniture into the moving truck. Nat hands you another champagne flute from the top rack when you hear Bucky call your name.

“Y/N! When did you get all these shirts?! You literally wear 3! And since when do you wear so many shoes???” He yells from the closet, tossing your stuff at Steve, who patiently chuckles and sets them down in his organized fashion.

“It’s called variety, Buck, you’re not a woman on undercover missions. I need options!” You chirp back at him and set the wrapped plate into the box.

Bucky continues to mutter over your items and sighs happily when he can finally see the other side wall of the closet. Only 2 hangers left to go, he thinks gratefully. He grads an aged, faded green hoodie with your university logo and puts it to his nose so he can soak up your scent on it. Your choice fabric softener and hints of your favorite perfume, Black Opium, waft through and he thinks fondly of how much he loves those scents. Tossing the top to his best man, Bucky grabs at the last hanger. Huh, never seen this skirt before, he thinks while holding it up to the light.

“Hey Stevie, have you ever seen her wear this? Looks awful small for mission gear.” Bucky aims the skirt at Steve, giving it a gentle shake for dramatic effect.

“No, Buck, can’t say I have. You know what it reminds me of though? Those uniforms they used to wear at the all girls school across the road from the park back in Brooklyn.” Steve looks from the clothing to his boyfriend suggestively.

“Oh yeah! Those nuns sure kept the girls in line, remember the stories Dot and Molly would tell us about the rulers and paddles? Shit today that’s corporal punishment!” Bucky pulls the skirt off the hanger and folds it, placing the garment in your overnight bag rather than the suitcase.

“You gonna do something with that?” Steve nods to the new addition to your bag.

“Just gonna ask a question later is all Stevie.” Bucky winks at his partner and smiles.

Later that evening, the apartment is signed away and no longer your monster to manage, and the three of you are celebrating the next step in your relationship and life with your men. Lounging on the couch between them, your back against Steve and your legs curled up on top of Bucky’s, sipping a whiskey coke. Steve reaches to your chin and tips it up to place a chaste kiss on your lips, while Bucky rubs up and down your calves softly. You return his peck by sliding your tongue across his teeth, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. As he obliges, he lets his hands drift around your waist to rub your breasts and knead at the full flesh.

In your lustful haze, you hear Bucky speak up. “So where in hell did a good Catholic student learn how to kiss like that? I’m pretty sure they didn’t teach you how to moan like that in school princess.” His eyes are dark with desire and he rests his hands on your knees, locking them in place. You turn your eyes away from one man to the other, bewildered and slightly warm.

“What do you mean Bucky?” You ask with genuine uncertainty. Regardless of the commentary, your arousal grows with the ministrations from both your lovers.

“Well see doll, we did a little research today while you were unpacking. Shield likes to keep full files, and boy was it satisfying to learn that our sweet girl was an innocent little catholic school student. Went to church twice a week and everything.”

Steve whispers in your ear while rubbing a nipple between his fingers.

“And what better detail to find than your old uniform hanging in the closet. Blue is really our favorite color princess.” Bucky adds while snaking his vibranium hand up the inside of your thigh. He ghosts a finger across the seam of your panties, and gives them a quick snapping tug.

You turn to hide your head in the couch cushions, an attempt to cover the blush spreading across your cheeks. They weren’t supposed to find it! How could you slip up with that , as a SHIELD agent??! That fantasy was to remain deeply hidden.

“Don’t hide princess, we want to see that face when Steve tells you what happens next.” Bucky continues working your mound with his metal arm while he previews the future of the evening.

“Now sweet girl, you are going to go upstairs and open your overnight bag. You are to strip out of these clothes, put on the items in there, NOTHING else. Understand me?” Steve’s voice drops an octave as his mind shifts toward his dominant state.

“When you’re ready, I want you to sit at the desk, ready for the bell to ring.” Bucky adds his request as you nodded toward the blonde.

You swing your legs off the couch, palms sweaty with the anticipation of fulfilling the fantasy of defilling such a symbol of purity and innocence. As you turn away from your boyfriends and head to complete your task, each man takes a palm to your ass and smiles. You yelp, and scurry to the bedroom to find your drag bag placed at the foot of the bed. With shaking hands you peel the zipper apart to pull out your wardrobe. A white button down blouse, white ankle socks, the soon to be defamed plaid skirt, and the most ridiculously padded fire engine red bra you’d ever seen. With a chuckle, you peel off one layer of clothes and begin re dressing with the second. Not knowing how much time you have until the “class” begins, you hastily throw your hair into a ponytail and slap a little lip stain on before sliding into the large desk chair and crossing your ankles.

Moments later, you hear heavy boots scuff the floor and the stairs creak under the weight of two super soldiers. Your thoughts drift to dirty places and you imagine seeing bucky’s vibranium hand slide under the skirt while Steve massages your flushed and heavy tits through the top half of your given uniform. A shrill school bell pierces your thoughts and a heavy thud from the door forces your eyes up.

“Now who do we have here? Looks like Miss Y/L/N was sent in for a dress code violation. Mr. Rogers, would you please identify the specifics on why you have sent this young lady to my office?” Bucky looks you up and down as if he were stalking his prey.

Steve looks over his reading glasses and gives you a once over. “Well Mr. Barnes, this young lady clearly has no respect for the rules. I guarantee that skirt is far too short, bet you can see her backside if she stands up.” He begins to circle you as well, and pulls at your blouse. “This shirt is practically transparent, I’d say that’s a bra redder than a sunburn on the Fourth of July.” He grabs a strap and allows it to snap sharply back against your shoulder.

Bucky reaches out to you, asking for your hand. “Now young lady, I am a pretty lenient man, but disrespecting the code of conduct is an inexcusable offense. Mr.Rogers didn’t even mention that lipstick you have on. I happen to know for a fact your lips are not that shade of plum.” He swipes a thumb across your lips to smear the stain. “I think we should allow him to assist in your punishment since he had to leave his duties to discuss this with us.”

“I haven’t used a ruler on this one yet, will that suffice Mr.. Barnes ? She looks a bit delicate for much else.” Steve comes up behind you and begins to caress your thighs, not yet going past the skirt.

“I think a palm should get the point across rather eloquently, perhaps 10?.” Bucky keeps hold of your hand and reaches for your other to pull you close to him.

Steve releases your legs and allows Bucky to take you away. With his vibranium hand, Bucky pulls you to the opposite side of the desk, and leans you across it bringing your chest flush against the mahogany. As he releases your hands he whispers in your ear. “Now princess, I want you to count them and just maybe this will be your punishment for not telling us about your dreams sooner.”

Your thighs clench as a wave of wetness rushes through you, and your breath comes in pants as you hear the pair of them come to face each other over you. Bucky grabs your hands again, and brings them together in front of you so he can hold you down, while Steve runs a hand up your legs and slots one of his between your knees.

“I knew this tight ass couldn’t hide under that skirt, such a bad girl princess,” Steve says as he pushes the skirt over the globes and gives each one a squeeze. “Damn Bucky, can you tell how turned on she is? Dripping all over the place, ready to cum still all dressed up.” He continues kneading your backside while ignoring your moans and wiggling frame.

“Wait til you’ve finished her punishment, bet she’ll be ripe and sweet like a peach for us to taste Stevie.” Bucky growls as he pushes you back down onto the table.

Distracted by Bucky’s words and touch, you nearly miss the sound of air moving as Steve’s palm cuts through it toward your ass. You Yelp again, and whimper at the prospect of not sitting for a week. Bucky taps on your shoulder, reminding you of your duty. “What did I ask you to do princess? Are you going to be a good girl and count for us?”

“Yes, One Sergeant.” You groan out the count.

Another smack comes down to the same spot, right above the crest of your cheek. You gasp into the desk and suck in a breath from the sting. “Two Sergeant.”

Steve continues doling out your punishment to your backside, by the time he hits nine tears are welling in your eyes from the sting and pleasure building in you. Your legs are shaking with effort from standing and your voice is wrecked from garbled use.

“Ten, Sergeant. Thank you Sir.” You whisper after Steve finishes his smacks and begins to rub the marks in soothing circles.

“Good job princess, you did that so well, now it’s time for your reward.” Bucky releases your arms and Steve pulls you up from the desk, the pair of them sandwiching you between them as you all move toward the bed. Your blouse is pulled over your head between frantic kisses with Steve, while Bucky strips his clothes. As they switch positions, you go to unzip the skirt and wrap your legs around Bucky, but he catches your hand and yanks it behind your back.

“Who said you were allowed to take that off? Class is in session, and you must be ready to learn.” His eyes glow with desire as he leans in to kiss you.

Once Steve has rid himself of his clothes, he returns to the bed and comes to lay behind you as Bucky sits you up. “Today’s lesson princess, is the art of how to keep sucking while you cum.” Steve is stroking his member while watching your eyes roll shut with want as he explains the plan to you. Bucky houses you forward into Steve’s chest and pulls your backside to him.

“Damn Stevie, those handprints won’t be gone for a week. She’ll have to find a softer surface to sit on.” He admires his boyfriend’s handiwork while getting his girl set. With your head down and ass up, Bucky slides his flesh hand between your thighs and begins to run two fingers along the outside of your slit. Using your arousal to coat his fingers, Bucky pushes two inside you and begins to work them slowly. He picks up speed as you begin moaning and looks up at his partners nodding to Steve to fill you from the other end.

As Bucky’s fingers move against your walls with vigor, you moan and writhe seeking out more friction on your clit. Steve takes the opportunity to place his hard cock against your open lips, and waits for you to begin sucking. No motivation needed, you lean into his groin and take him in one swallow. Moving your head back and forth, you swirl your tongue against the shaft, and as Bucky adds a third finger to your pussy, you let a moan vibrate through your body, sending a secondary shiver through Steve as well. You relax your jaw and allow Steve to begin fucking into your mouth as his own release builds, the sounds of skin slapping and your muffled moans driving him wild with want. Bucky withdraws his fingers and reaches under you to lift you higher onto your knees. With this motion, Steve lifts into a kneel of his own and makes eye contact with his boyfriend. You pay them no mind as greedily sucking down your boyfriend's dick takes precedence and the prospect of getting fucked by the other makes you giddy with anticipation.

Bucky grabs a fistful of your skirt and slams your ass into his hips, setting your pussy ablaze with the slide of his thick curved cock against your walls. You groan against Steve’s painfully hard member, and before you can take him all he grabs your ponytail and pulls you off. Bucky’s brutally fast and deep pace has you close to the crest and Steve wants you to remember the rule of the scene.

“What did we say about today princess, you need to be able to keep sucking my cock while Bucky makes you come. Don’t stop, go it?” He wraps his hand in the ponytail and as you nod he allows you to take him in your mouth again.

Bucky’s thrusts are getting frantic as he chases everyone's peaks, and he reaches his vibranium hand to your clit while grabbing Steve with his opposite hand to pull him in for a hard kiss. Both men are panting as they pound into you from both sides, a hand touching each body as your body grows tight with the desire to orgasm. Bucky pinches your pearl and he tells you to come, giving a final hard thrust as he feels your walls clench around him. Like a rubber band, you snap into oblivion, no longer aware of what occurs beyond the throbbing in your pussy and the perfect fullness that surrounds you. You feel the waves of pleasure crash through you, and still both men continue their chase. Hypersensitive and fuzzy, you relax your jaw again and take Steve all the way to the hilt, and you bob your head quickly, sealing your lips around his large base trying to finish him off. Bucky’s thrusts have gone shallow as your walls have him locked like a vice, but you feel him begin to shatter as well. With a final thrust from both men, they spill into you with heavy grunts.

Bucky pulls out of you and Steve lifts you off his softened member, laying you onto the pillows.

“Did we properly defile the uniform, princess?” Steve kisses your forehead as Bucky pulls the garment off you with a smile.

“Yes Sergeant. Thank you Sir.” You nod sleepily, thank each man, and curl into their frames as Bucky climbs under the sheets. “If I had had either of you for teachers, it would have been a shameful garment way sooner,” you chuckle as they share a kiss above you.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part III

Word Count: 1,810 Warnings: Mentions of drug use. PTSD. Guns. Ben Affleck. As always, if I missed anything, please send me a message and I'll amend this warning ASAP. A/N: As you can tell, I'm a slut for dialogue.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

gif by: @santigogarcia.

“Francisco,” she’s swaying back and forth with a sleeping Luna in her arms and he can hear the pleading in her voice, “please don’t do this.”

He waited until the absolute last second to tell her but she knew as soon as she got his text—

Pope’s here. I’m gonna bring him by tomorrow to meet Luna, okay?

“Baby,” he catches her hip and pulls her into him, “it’s just a couple of days, consulting work. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“No,” she’s shaking her head, tears threatening to spill over, “you promised me. You looked me in the eye and you said, Leah, I’m done with this shit. Why are you going?”

He licks his lips and looks to Santi in the hallway, pretending to be lost in his phone. He knows he’s not.

“I’ll call you when we get to Colombia. I’ll call you every night and again when I’m on the plane home. Te prometo, ay?”

“Stop making promises,” she pulls away from him, hand on his chest to steady her shaking body, “we’ve established you don’t keep them.”

His hands find her shoulders and squeeze, “Baby, it’s almost twenty grand. We can pay off the car or,” he stammers, “your student loans. We can breathe.”

Frankie sees the words trying to formulate in front of him, the cogs of her mind turning behind her eyes. He’s bracing himself for what’s next but all she does is pull away, the only acknowledgement of the fact that she can’t stop him.

She turns on her heel and he watches her walk out the room, stopping as Santi picks up where Frankie left off.

“Stop being so harsh on him, he needs this. Your family needs this.”

Frankie takes in a breath as Leah’s free hand collides with Santi’s cheek and before he can even react, she’s rounding on him again.

“Don't you dare tell me what my family needs, Santiago Garcia. I love you because he loves you but you are nothing but trouble.”

She can feel Frankie coming up behind her, shifting the air again because he’s nothing but nerves but Santi’s too hot to notice.

“He'll be fine, Leah, you worry too goddamn much,” he wants to shout, that’s evident in his demeanor. "He’s a big boy, if he didn’t want to go, he’d tell me.”

“Baby,” Frankie’s hand wraps around her elbow, trying to gently coax her into his arms. He wants to lead her back to the bedroom. Hold her. Convince her.

“No,” she pulls away, eyes still hard on Pope, “the best case scenario is that he comes home alive, Santiago. But he’s not fine. And who’s here picking up the pieces? It’s not you.”

“Leah, I swear. It's just a consultation,” his jaw sets with the lie he fed the rest of them, like his body is finally rebelling to the bullshit but he continues on, “your husband will come home.”

Frankie’s still got one hand wrapped around her elbow, another on her back. Her anger is a hurricane, he can feel it churning deep inside as her voice comes out lower, “He better or—“

“Or what?” Santiago's face splits into a shit eating grin, “you'll try to kill me again? How is your sister by the way?”

“I won’t kill you, Santi, but I will put a bullet through the bad knee and I’ll make sure William gets me the good shit. The kind that shreds through tendon and bone like a blender.”

Nodding, Santi sucks the air through his teeth, “You can try but I honestly think you’re too chicken shi—“

“¡Basta!” Enough!

Frankie’s pulling on Leah again, the hand that was resting on the small of her back making its way to Luna now. Luna, who up until her father’s raised voice—the voice he never wanted her to know—was sleeping perfectly against her mother. Completely, blissfully unaware of the firefight happening around her.

“Pope,” his voice is shaking, “you need to go.”

“Fine,” he pulls his phone back up to his face. “I’ll pick you up for the airport tomorrow.”

“No,” he feels the hope emanating from Leah as he watches Santi’s face fall, “if I come, I’ll meet you there but this isn’t a conversation you’re involved in anymore.”

“Wha—what the fuck does that mean? I started the conversation.”

Leah pads back into the bedroom, heart aching, with Luna in her arms. Frankie watches as she closes the door and rounds on Santiago, slamming his back into the wall behind him with enough force to shake the house and when he speaks again, it’s measured and even. This is the calmest he has been in weeks.

It’s not a threat.

“If you ever speak to my wife like that again, she’s not the one you have to worry about putting a bullet into your body.”

It’s a promise. —————

Fish is most talented pilot I know—

He swings his assault rifle back, opting for the Glock 19 at his side, Santi’s words ringing through his ears.

—and he’s grounded on a bullshit coke rap.

His boots fall heavy through the mansion, he doesn’t give a shit about stealth. Threw every care in the world out the door the moment Tom started digging for more. What they had was more than enough but he could never just have enough. Had to push for more. Every fucking time.

Another lap. Another sweep. Another round.

But he never missed a hard out, Benny was right about that.

Bullshit coke rap. Every misstep Frankie made, every struggle he faced, was just a bullshit mark on a hardened warrior. That’s all they ever saw him as, Tom and Santi. All remorse drained from his soul in the name of God and country.

Frankie squeezes the trigger, eyes lighting up in the muzzle flash. If he was going to take their lives, he was going to see it drain from their faces.

If he was inflicting this horror on his mind again, making Leah puzzle his shit back together again, he was going to earn it.

The gun hangs heavy in his hand as he steps over the bound and gagged body, following the sound of the rain.

"Fish, where are you?” Tom’s voice scratches at the edge of his skull. His nickname is a stark reminder that there is a separation between man and monster and he can find it again.

He’s shaking as he reaches for the button on his collar, “I'm exiting back out to the courtyard.”

She was right, telling him to stop making promises. He said no live fire and he couldn’t even keep that to himself. —————

“Is he right?” She’s quiet as Frankie lifts their daughter from her aching arms, “Is this what you need?”

“Yeah,” it comes out quiet, leveling up to the bouncing he’s now taken over to keep the baby asleep, “I think it is.”

“Why?” It’s not accusatory, she genuinely wants to know.

“I—“ he stops to think, he doesn’t want his words to come out selfish but he knows that’s how they’ll land. “Baby, I know I brought all of this down on myself and I know that I’ve survived it once before but…”

He trails off, his large hand is splayed across Luna’s back to support her as he resettles her in his arms. A small sound of contentedness escapes her and he can’t believe he’s missed this for the last six weeks. Spent months on end higher than any fucking plane he flew just because he was afraid of failing her. He chokes on the lump building in his throat because he already has.

“But what, baby?”

“I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath to steady himself, “this has been the hardest year of my life, the last six weeks especially.”

Bad landing.

She takes a breath, a tiny spark in her eyes but he’s already in front of her, “Mi alma, let me finish. Please.”

She nods, agreeing to his appeal.

"Before, the only thing I had to lose was my license. Now, the license was just the tip of the pyramid. This shit could’ve cost me my life. In more ways than one. I know what they cut the drugs with now and my nightmares are no longer about what I did in the service, Leah. Will and Benny hold me down screaming in the middle of the night as I imagine I’ve left this shit out for you or Luna to find.”

He laughs at the love and concern in her eyes, not feeling he deserves it but he forges on anyway, “I snorted our finances into desolation. We can’t live on a teacher’s salary alone, baby, you know that. How far behind is the car payment?”

“Just a month now,” she whispers, “my sisters helped us catch up.”

“And you hate that! You’re too prideful to ask for help, too full of protection for me. This will set us back on the right track.”

She’s standing now, arms crossed to anchor her own sobs from escaping, “Frankie, we can survive until your drug test—“

“No,” he’s shaking his head, “it’s still another six weeks away.”

“You don’t have to do this, baby, I know you don’t want to.”

"I cannot let you struggle like this,” he’s shifting Luna again, her tiny fists balled into his shirt and he is devastated with his love for her, “I am supposed to provide for and protect this family. It was in my vows and I broke those.”

“For richer or poorer was also in the fucking vows, Francisco.”

He swallows hard, reaching out and pulling her into him. He can’t bear to see her face when he speaks again, his voice low with the confidence of a settled mind.

“I am going to Colombia." —————

He feels the stone falling from beneath him as he loses the mule to the mountainside, last in line of the five.

He should’ve done more. Held on tighter, walked faster. But as Santiago saw an animal and Tom saw money, he could only see himself falling over.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called. Two? Three? Hadn’t heard her voice or the baby’s babbling as she responds to daddy. He saw himself at the bottom of that mountain. Never enunciating each syllable of Pa-pa for his little girl ever again, convincing himself that he would be her first word. Never pulling Leah into his arms, the scent of coconut and vanilla so profoundly intoxicating that all he could think about was sinking deep into her. All the comfort and clarity the world had to offer found in her arms and between her legs.

She insisted on the nicest sheets they could find and instead of falling into them, he only felt jagged rock at his back.

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @notcookiebelle | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​ | @knivesareout​

[wildernessuntothemselves]

The Last Exhale | Prologue

Summary: The honest and hardworking poor girl finds love in the arms of the rebellious and charming rich boy, and despite all odds, their love prevails and their inspiring story gets its fairytale ending when the two tie the knot, cementing their love under the sacred vows of marriage. Except real life isn’t a drama, and the story doesn’t end here for our protagonists who, instead of being the heroes they set out to be, end up taking on the role of the villain in each other’s life story.

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Angst, slight smut

Warnings: substance use, domestic violence, choking, bj

A/N: if you feel like you’ve read this as a bts fic before dw I’m the original author trying to continue it as a skz fic. Hopefully I can succeed in that. The general concept of this fic is that each chapter is based on a specific song and set in alternating POVs between the MC and the member so you can see their differing opinions and takes on each event and highlight how biased every person’s perception is.

Song and title of the prologue: Back to Black

POV of this chapter: 3rd person

The member in this story isn’t decided yet so please help me decide by voting between Chan and Lix. And if you can give me a reason for either member that would favor your choice being picked.

____________________

“I can’t believe you just stood there and let your parents humiliate me like that.” She shouts at him, not caring that the entire house staff can hear her argument with her husband.

“But I thought you were a strong woman, an Amazon, who doesn’t need my help.” He mocks her cheerfully.

She grits her teeth together so hard she thinks she could taste the pulverized bone on her tongue. “There is a difference between treating me like a prized show horse and coming to my aid when I genuinely need you.”

He cracks up. “Look at what you’re wearing! A show horse is worth more than your entire life, baby.”

She slaps him. At any other time, He would’ve returned the favor but not right now.

“Ohh, baby, are you in that mood again?” He places a hand on her ass, pulling her up against him. “Told you that you wouldn’t be able to stop for long. It feels good doesn’t it, punishing me? Hurting me? But that’s ok, I like it too. Hit me more.”

All colors drain from her face. That was a mistake. A colossal, fucked up mistake. It was during the worst time of her life, a time where she would’ve killed herself if he’d only left her alone for a second, but he just wouldn’t leave. And before she even knew what she was doing, as if she had blacked out, she was striking him, over and over again. It had started as a way to get him to leave so she can finally do it, she remembers now, but along the way, it morphed into a sick redirection of all her anger and remorse onto him, and instead of leaving or shouting or fighting back, he let her. He stood there, head bowed, and neck bared--and god help her, that only made her hit him more. But it was over now, and she would never go back to being that monster again.

A crazed laugh snaps her attention back to the source of all her torment who was staring at her with a euphoric smile on his face. “What do you say, babe?”

“Are you fucking high? You couldn’t even stay sober one night for me?” She pushed him off. She had specifically requested that he doesn’t do coke today so he can stay alert and by her side at his parent’s dinner party, but what did she really expect from him?

“You can’t blame me when you insist on embarrassing me in front of everyone I know.” She gives him a confused look and he comes up to her and tugs harshly on her dress, ripping a piece right off. “What is this shit? Why couldn’t you just let me buy you something nice to wear? How do you think it makes me feel when people see that my wife dresses cheaper than one of my father’s whores?”

She is about to slap him again but he catches her hand this time. “Not all of us have fathers who can get us what we want before we even think it up.”

“But you have me. Let me take care of you.” He puts his hands on her upper arms and searches her eyes. “Just like I used to before.”

“And have your parents think that they were right about me? That I was a gold digger all along.” She shakes his hands off of her. “And even if I do that, what happens after your father dies and your brother takes control of the company and throws you out. How will you take care of me then? You’re doing nothing to secure your place in the company and soon we will be out on the streets. What are you doing to prevent that? Going to parties and driving your expensive cars around with your friends, denying like a child that your father will ever die?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such an uptight cunt, we could’ve worked together to find a solution instead of you spending all of your energy on constantly tearing me down and saying how useless I am.” The words held a lot of meaning but her husband’s tone was lightheartedly insane, and that stupid euphoric grin was still plastered on his face.

She could easily argue back that he wasn’t such an angel himself and that he always treated her like she were inferior to him and spoke down to her whenever she tried to suggest something that could help, always making sure to point out that she had no idea what she was talking about because she’s just a cook’s daughter.

But it was useless. He’s high out of his fucking mind and they’ve had the same argument a thousand times before. She turns her back to him and heads up the elegant marble stairway of the outrageously expensive house, looking to wash the night’s events off of herself.

“Fine, just walk away from me after you’ve ruined my fucking buzz,” He shouts up at her, but she’s sure she didn’t really. He’ll be in bliss for hours still while she sits in bed contemplating how in the world she ended up like this.

They used to be so happy before. Nothing could ever dim the love they had for each other, not his parents’ disapproval nor their different backgrounds. They were different people when they were together. They changed just for each other, and they vowed on their wedding day that they wouldn’t let anything come between them.

But the years proved them wrong. They never changed at all. They just came back full circle, and hard. The differences between them became more apparent than ever and as the years went by, they stopped seeing from the other person’s point of view and became more unyielding in their own opinions than even the people that stood in their way in the past were.

So where do they go from this?

The sound of feet dragging heavily across the floor as someone makes their way slowly down the hall would surely frighten anyone, but she doesn’t even flinch. She knew it was her husband finally back home after disappearing for hours like always.

The sound continues for a few minutes until it stops just behind her, and she turns away from the window of her little alcove to look at him. She takes his appearance in, hair and clothes disheveled and a dark aura about him. She holds the joint in between her lips and reaches out to him, looping her thumbs through the waistband of his pants and pulling him close to her before unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his thighs along with his boxers.

There on the inner side of his boxers was the evidence of his night out, dried cum and pussy juices. He didn’t even bother cleaning himself up or changing his underwear before coming to her. He wanted her to know.

She takes a deep breath from the joint and turns her back to him again, blowing out the smoke through the open window.

He never liked when she ignored him. He doesn’t like that at all. He reaches forward and snatches the joint out of her hand and snuffs it out violently with his boot. His high is very obviously over. She’s relaxed now and he’s the one on edge.  

The cool gaze she regards him with pisses him off more and he grabs her by the hair and pulls her down to his dick, “Suck.”

He wanted her to taste that woman on him. He wanted to humiliate her. He wanted to hurt her, but all she felt was numbness.

He is not gentle with her, those days were long over. He moves her around like a ragdoll over his cock, thrusting it down her throat and not stopping even when he hears her gagging around him and clawing at his thighs. Instead, he pinches her nose, cutting off her oxygen supply completely.

“Should I let you die like this? No court would dare condemn me, my father would see to that.” He growls, taunting her with his father’s power the same way she belittled him for it earlier. “It’s what a cheap bitch like you deserves for not knowing her place with her master.”

Her face was turning blue, and her throat was constricting vigorously around her husband’s cock, fighting to let a breath in but only increasing his pleasure. She hears him moaning and grunting above her but she can’t see him through her rapidly blurring vision.

She doesn’t know if he knew just when to stop or if it was a stroke of luck but right as she thought she was about to pass out, he pulls his cock out of her mouth and stops pinching her nose. She falls forward on the floor at his feet, coughing and sputtering, and he watches her from above while he gives himself those last few strokes before cumming all over her. Some of it lands on her face, some on her hair, some on her clothes…In the end, she looks as much of a mess as she feels she is inside.

Despite having nothing obstructing her airway anymore, her lungs still couldn’t believe it, heaving in huge gulps of air as if the supply would be cut off again at any moment.

Her husband tucks himself back into his pants before crouching down over her. He holds her chin in his hand causing more of the cum stuck to his palm to mess up her face. “Why do you have to make me do this, baby? You know that I love you.”

His voice sounded so hurt and sincere that she couldn’t stop yourself from spitting in his face. What did it matter that he loved her, that she loved him, when it wasn’t enough anymore? “You’re nothing to me.”

He retaliates by slapping her, sending her crashing against the floor from the powerful blow. “I’ll make you yield, you’ll see, and then we’ll be happy again.”

He walks away and she stares after him with a hatred that taints her very soul. How was it possible for the human heart to contain so much hate and love for the same person without just giving up?

_______

A/N: before I put this fic on hiatus, I had posted 4 (very long) chapters. I will be reposting one every week and hopefully by then I would’ve written chapter 5.

[ladyonfire28]

Adèle Haenel: "And the fight against racism, is that a black thing?" (March 1, 2016)

Her raw talent and her unique personality are shaking up French cinema. With two Césars in her pocket, the actress from Les Combattants became an icon of auteur cinema in Les Ogres and soon with the Dardenne brothers. Interview with a thoughtful and shady feminist.

The first vision we have of Adèle Haenel when we enter the hotel room, where she has just been photographed, is that of a tall girl in denim and worn-out suede boots looking for cotton to remove her make-up. She says that it's too much, that it's not her, that we have to take it all away - this sticky femininity - and right away.

She announces her color: strong, fierce, temperamental, a little prickly, when, during the interview, she frowns and throws your questions back to you - always with great relevance. She is beautiful and abrupt, her adolescent brusqueness (even though she is 27 years old), gives the impression of robustness: a sportswoman with the shoulders of a swimmer but the face of a femme fatale from the inter-war period, green eyes and a pulpy mouth. This is an unprecedented combination in French cinema, which tends to be dominated by young first-time coquettes looking for contracts with luxury brands. We have never seen Adèle H. at the front row of fashion shows, her appearances on the red carpet - the playground of her fellow female cast members - did not stick in our memories, and that's good.

We've been keeping an eye on her since Water Lilies (2007), by Céline Sciamma, to whom she declared her love at a César Award ceremony. She won two of them, hands down: for Suzanne, and then, last year, for Les Combattants, an emblematic film that created a new image of a virile heroine in French cinema. Adèle Haenel, an icon of auteur cinema, was thrown at the heart of the system: she is the most coveted actress of the moment and has just finished in Liège The Unknown Girl, by the Dardenne brothers, who will inevitably be screened again at the next Cannes Film Festival.

You have to hear her talk about cinema, with her eyes fixed and uninterrupted flow, to understand how incandescent this girl is. In Les Ogres, a choral film by Léa Fehner that talks about the daily life of an itinerant theater that performs Chekhov, she plays Mona, actress and pregnant. The diary of this tribe that travels from city to city, a tent on their back, also draws a universal portrait of actors, truculent monsters full of love and violence.

Madame Figaro - Since the success of Les Combattants, you intrigue people...

Adèle Haenel. - I can see that the demand is stronger, but I'm not chasing after advertising and I don't intend to invade the public space. I think we have to remain discreet. Notoriety hasn't changed anything in my life and it certainly won't change my desire to make films following the same line.

What is that line ?

I make a film to carry a message. I can feel when a director has something to say. I feel something, a desire, a vibration. There is a thread, an intuition, a truth that imposes itself on me. I know what I have to do, I can feel it. It is both mystical and very rational. What is interesting is to come out of a navel-gazing, to rise up, to talk about people, to talk about the world. I like the idea that everything fits together collectively: feelings, economics, politics. A film is a common story, and I want to be part of that dialogue. A film must be in direct resonance with its time: cinema is today. I do things for now, and it's not up to me, to us, to decide whether a film is going to stay, whether it's made for eternity. I feel extremely responsible.

You feel very inhabited when you talk about cinema...

I have many other reasons to live, but, yes, I am deeply interested in the representation of things. How does cinema fit into society? Who is it for? Cinema is obviously a political act. For example, even the latest Star Wars is political. I was really relieved to see so many women and different skin colors: it means that everyone can be a hero and that feels good.

It is said that in the movies women are taking over...

It's an evergreen content. They make a big deal out of it, but if you look at the numbers, it's not so true: women are still in the minority. I can't be satisfied with that.

Do you feel the prevailing machismo that is associated with cinema?

I'm not going to waste my time and energy educating these people.

Is it easier to succeed in this job when you are a man?

Your question is a strange one. Either we point out superficial phenomena - the decision-makers are men, they have the money and therefore the power - or we debate a broader question: in what world are we evolving? And there, it's always the same thing.  The world is cut in two: on the one hand, there is the man, the virile, all linked to superior qualities, and on the other hand, the lower part, the woman, the secret, the moods. Of course, all our representation is linked to this division. I often ask myself the following question: in a fair world, without discrimination, what is art? Art today is in dialogue with its time, so it does not abolish anything but is involved in the fight.

As we can't classify you, you have been labeled as virile...

I'd like someone to explain to me why people should always be defined. To be a woman, you would have to be a feminine woman, right? For me, it's redundant. I don't maintain any posture, I am myself. But the way people look at me doesn't bother me: make up your mind, there's no problem.

However, you embody a renewal at the antipodes of actresses on their first red carpets...

I don't know which ones you are talking about, but I will never be against other propositions from women. After all, they also are undoubtedly dealing with their inner truth. But then again, I don't want to comment on something that escapes me completely: the gaze of others. I realize that everything is complicated for actresses who are so solicited that they end up participating, willingly or unwillingly, in a kind of general cacophony.

Are you one of those ogresses that Léa Fehner describes in her film?

I've just eaten about twenty-five croissants, isn't that a clue? In Léa's film, there is an energy close to the one in Les Combattants: action as a solution to an era in crisis. Here, it's laughter and gluttony facing a personal anxiety and an era that values suffering. I think we need to wake people up, to make them understand that fatality is a terrible and disarming discourse. We are told that the planet is warming up, that people are being massacred, that entire populations are on the move. I am not saying that we are not powerless against this, but feeling concerned and responsible is already a first step towards action.

Are actors monsters?

I don't know and I don't care. I'm not here to tell people: I'm like this, I'm like that, I'm better than you. I don't have to deal with that. Why me? I don't know.

Yes, why you and not someone else? Actor, it's an elective profession...

What is an actor? Their hypersensitivity should not be overestimated. The key is courage. That's the most difficult thing, courage and sincerity: not hiding, committing yourself with what you have, with your face and your body, with everything, with no escape. We often say: "To be an actor is to be someone else" but above all, you have to accept being yourself. It's not the most well-balanced job on earth, but a healthy actor would be weird, wouldn't it?

Precisely, you are sometimes compared to... Depardieu.

There are worse critics. What I like about him is his poetic sensitivity, which is not fake at all. You can sense his love of texts. And then, come on, what an incredible freedom of acting!

Can you play everything?

I don't know. What I do know is that the feeling of comfort is dangerous. It would turn us into a small factory. As soon as I start a film, I don't sleep anymore. The first scenes are hell.

Is shooting naked a problem?

It annoys me. In all films, there's this double injunction from society or the audience: we actresses are asked to get naked but to feel guilty about it! But no guys, I'm not going to feel guilty so you can be fully satisfied that I hold this assigned place of the whore and the well-bred girl! The commitment I make when I make a movie is much bigger than that.

Your feminist side...

I don't have a feminist side, I'm a feminist simply because I want to exist.

Today, not all women are feminists…

So feminism is a girl thing, then? And the fight against racism is a black thing? It's not a power struggle or lobbying, it's not Pepsi against Coke. No, it's a fundamental question about humanity.

[beautiful-and-terrible]

dazed ‘n‘ confused (part 3)

A/N: 3500 fuckin’ words y’all lmaooo i am so stupidly invested in this dumbass and his hot neighbor.

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC

Warnings: underage drinking / drug usage, dubious consent (both parties inebriated), swearing, etc.

---

Nicole shouldn’t have worried so much about what to wear. When she showed up in Rodrick’s garage, his friends Ben and Chris were there, both dressed in ripped jeans and flannel shirts paired over band t-shirts. By comparison, Nicole’s black skater skirt and combat boots felt almost fancy.

“Hey, I’m Ben,” the dark-haired one holding a red electric guitar came up to her and gave her a fist bump. She almost laughed, not having fist-bumped anyone since she was 13. “Nicole,” she replied, smiling.

“I’m Chris!” the blonde called over, waving, before turning back to adjusting his microphone and checking the settings on their audio.

Rodrick seemed to appreciate her style, at least. He came through the garage door, carrying a four-pack of Monster energy and whistled, giving her a quick up-and-down glance, “Hey, groupie.”

Nicole punched his arm as he walked by. “I came here to listen to you play, so… play.”

“Your wish is my command,” Rodrick said with a dramatic bow.

Nicole found a relatively comfortable spot as far from the speakers as she could get - this wasn’t a concert, but loud speakers could still be painful after an extended period of time. The clack of Rodrick’s drumsticks alerted her, and before she knew it there was a blast of noise and a blur of limbs.

Honestly, he wasn’t bad, Nicole thought to herself after they had played a few songs. He could use a little more control, but what musician didn’t get caught up in their music? Glancing outside, Nicole saw that it was finally growing dark out. The sky had turned a soft purple, and she could see a few fireflies flashing in the cooling grass. She checked the time on her phone - 9:15.

“Hey, do you guys know Caitlin?” she asked the group. They turned to look at her.

“Caitlin Irving or Caitlin Peters?” Ben asked, taking an impressive gulp of Monster before burping loudly. The boys fell into fits of laughter. Nicole couldn’t help laughing, too.

“I don’t know her last name, she works at Starbucks, though.”

“Ohhhhhh, Caitlin! Yeah, we know her. Why?”

“She invited me to a party tonight, but I don’t really know anyone but her. Would you guys wanna be my plus-three?”

Ben and Chris high-fived each other, and Rodrick saluted her with his drumstick, whacking himself in the head in the process. Nicole hid a laugh behind her hand, not wanting to embarrass him. “For sure, Nikky. As long as there's drinks, we’ll be there,” Chris said. 

“C’mon, we can take my van,” Rodrick said, shoving his drumsticks in his back pocket and running inside to grab his keys. The other boys started down the driveway toward the white van, garishly painted with the band's name on the side in bold, black letters.

When Rodrick returned, Nicole gave him a smug look. “I thought it needed repairs?”

Rodrick stopped walking mid-stride, looking like a puppet caught on its strings. “Uh. Yeah. Well. My dad helped, when you were over at your house. Getting ready. It’s fine now. He’s the best mechanic I know.”

“Uh-huh. You sure you didn’t just… want to ride home with me from work?”

Rodrick scoffed. “You wish.” But as he rounded the front of the car to the drivers side, you caught the scarlet color of his cheeks against his tan skin. As if he could be any more endearing, he even offered Nicole shotgun. Chris grumbled the entire time, but begrudgingly gave you the seat he had worked so hard to acquire. 

“First stop - Capital. Ben has a fake, so we can BYOB,” Rodrick said, practically peeling out of the driveway. Nicole clutched the seat for dear life, heart stuck in her throat.

“Are you sure this thing is secure?” she squeaked, feeling the seat shaking a little in its bolts.

“No one has been ejected yet, Nikky,” Rodrick laughed.

“Go-go gadget get me the fuck out of here,” Nicole groaned, planting her feet on the floor to try and stop herself from flying forward as Rodrick squealed to a stop in front of a seedy looking liquor store.

Ben barely avoided taking the sliding door off its tracks when he opened the door. Chris lit a cigarette in the back, the acrid scent wafting to the front of the van. Nicole didn’t mind the smell much - honestly it reminded her of her Grandmother's house - but she hoped the smell didn’t linger on her clothes. That would be hard to explain to her mom. Speaking of, she sent off a quick text to her parents telling them that she’d be back late. Luckily, Nicole had always been the responsible type, so her parents trusted her to make good decisions and as a result, let her have free reign of her life (especially now that she was 18).

Ben returned after a few minutes, carrying a 24 pack of Natty Light and lighting his own cigarette.

“You have the address?” Rodrick asked, and you showed him Caitlins text.

“Yo, that's in Heather Hill’s neighborhood. Maybe we can tee-pee her house later,” Rodrick said, already zooming off again.

“Heather Hills?”

“Major bitch,” Chris called from the back of the van. Rodrick shrugged. “She’s not a bitch she’s just… not very nice.”

Nicole laughed, “You don’t have to defend the honor of all women by not calling her a bitch. If she’s a bitch, I believe you.”

Rodrick looked at you out of the corner of his eye, thinking briefly.

“Yeah, she’s a stone-cold bitch. She ran over my foot once. With her car.” 

Nicole grimaced in sympathy.

“Last year, we played at her Sweet Sixteen party, and Rodrick broke her ice sculpture bust. It was awesome,” Ben said.

“Oh, so you aren’t always perfect?” Nicole teased. Rodrick flipped her off.

Soon, they pulled up in front of Caitlin’s house. Nicole could already hear loud music from outside the house, and there were rainbow strobe lights flashing in the windows. Swallowing her nervousness, she followed Rodrick, Chris and Ben up the front walkway.

As they walked in the house, Nicole was hit by the fragrant, herbal smell of weed. From far away, the music had seemed loud, but coming in the house the music seemed to vibrate her ribcage - it was something with a repetitive bass, stuff Nicole didn’t normally listen to but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She followed Rodrick further into the house, trying to find the kitchen, weaving between people dancing and couples making out.

There were people surrounding an island in the center of the kitchen, decorated with colorful bottles of liquor and sodas to mix with. Nicole spotted Caitlin talking to a tall black guy, drinking out of a red solo cup. Nicole gave her a wave, and Caitlin excitedly came over to greet her.

“Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”

“Yeah, me too. I haven’t actually ever been to a high school party.”

Caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Well, you’re gonna have one hell of a first high school party experience, girly. Let's get you a drink.”

Caitlin turned to the kitchen island and poured about four shots of rum and filled the rest with coke in a red solo cup. Nicole took a sip. She could barely tell it was spiked, so she took a few more chugs and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Caitlin asked, and Nicole nodded before following her back to the living room. Already, the rum was making her limbs feel looser and her brain fuzzy. She finished the rest of it in one go, enjoying the feeling of her nervousness and insecurities fading away. Nicole had never been unpopular, per say, but she tended to stay to herself and only had a few close friends at her old school, anyway. It was refreshing to feel included, and she couldn’t help feeling that this was the way her teenage years were supposed to be - loud and exciting and living moment to moment.

As they danced, Nicole swaying in place and occasionally spinning around, she couldn’t help but feeling a little awkward. Caitlin was actually a really good dancer - she knew how to move her body in all the right ways so they hit on beat with the music. Nicole envied her easy grace, but was quickly relieved when Caitlin accidentally bumped into someone, causing them to spill their drink. Nicole stifled a laugh, not at Caitlin’s expense, just at the irony of the timing. At least Nicole wasn’t the only clutz. 

They had been dancing for only a few minutes before Nicole felt a hand on her waist, making her jump slightly.

“Hey, the guys and I are gonna smoke some weed in the backyard. Do you wanna come?” Rodrick said. His voice was almost in her ear, close enough that she could hear him over the blaring music, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. 

She turned around to face him - in the dim light of the house, he looked much more appealing than usual - she hadn’t even noticed he had put eyeliner on, but it made the dark of his eyes look even more obsidian. Nicole nodded, giving a thumbs up, and pulled Caitlin along with her.

“I need you for moral support,” Nicole said, making Caitlin laugh.

“Have you ever smoked weed before?” Caitlin asked.

“Nope.”

Caitlin raised her eyebrows and pulled her closer as they walked to whisper in her ear.

“Okay, take a small hit the first time, don’t try to impress anyone. But breathe it fully into your lungs - I like to start by pulling it into my mouth first, and then inhaling fully. And if you cough, don’t worry, almost everyone does their first time.”

Nicole gave her a grateful look as they approached the circle of people sitting on lawn chairs in the backyard. Ben and Chris were already there, with two other girls Nicole didn’t know. However, there seemed to only be two more lawn chairs available to sit on.

Nicole was about to plop down on the grass before Caitlin grabbed her hand.

“You should sit on Rodrick’s lap,” she whispered, and Nicole almost choked on her drink.

“What?” 

“Dude, he’s totally into you - I don’t know what your sitch is, but I think he’s probably a little nervous about making the first move. Just do it, and if he asks, say ‘sorry, there weren’t enough seats and I don’t wanna get bug bites from the grass.”

Nicole stared at her, mouth agape. The alcohol in her brain was telling her it might not be the worst idea ever. And you know what? Fuck it. You’re only young once. Nicole made up her mind, and squeezing Caitlin’s hand, she walked over to where Rodrick was sitting before primly making herself comfortable on his thigh.

She felt him tense beneath her immediately, before his hand came up to her waist to steady her. Before he had the chance to say anything about it, the joint was passed to him, and he took an impressive hit, the cherry glowing red at the end for several seconds. Nicole watched him with interest, hoping she wouldn’t mess up too badly and embarrass herself. 

Rodrick looked up at her as he exhaled the smoke, holding the joint out to her. Not paying attention, and entranced by the eye contact they were holding, she reached out to take the joint without looking and promptly burned her hand on it.

“Fucker,” she hissed, shaking her hand to try and get rid of the pain. Rodrick just laughed.

“Do you want help?” Rodrick asked, before taking another hit of the joint. He reached up behind Nicole’s head, threading his fingers through her hair, before pulling her down close to his face, their lips inches apart. Nicole instinctively opened her mouth, half from surprise and half in anticipation of being kissed. But Rodrick simply blew a steady stream of smoke into her mouth, - their lips didn’t make contact. Belatedly, Nicole realized she was supposed to be inhaling, so she did quickly, trying to hold the smoke in her lungs for as long as possible. 

Somebody wolf-whistled in the group. Nicole was pretty sure it was Caitlin.

Eventually, she ended up coughing it out, Rodrick rubbing her back but still laughing.

“You’re a green at the green, huh?” Rodrick asked, and Nicole rolled her eyes.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah, but it’s cute. I’m glad you’re having your first high with me,” Rodrick said, smiling sweetly. Nicole’s stomach fluttered. Already, she could tell that this wasn’t alcohol she was feeling anymore - the buzz she had been feeling earlier was replaced by something much slower and velvety, like the world was moving through maple syrup.

“Dude,” Nicole said after a minute, realizing she had been staring at nothing. Rodrick looked at her. She looked at him. They both started cracking up laughing.

“What are we laughing at?” Nicole hiccuped through her laughter.

“No idea,” Rodrick said, wiping his eyes free of tears of mirth.

“Rodrick, pass the J,” Ben called out, breaking the two of them from their trance. Without thinking about it, Nicole leaned back onto Rodrick’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his body. It wasn’t a cold night, per say, but Nicole was only wearing a skirt and a t-shirt, and she had always had poor circulation. She shivered involuntarily.

“Do you want my flannel?” Rodrick asked, already taking it off. Nicole sat up, ruffling his hair playfully.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just want to show off your arms,” Nicole said, slipping on the warm blue flannel and resting her hand on Rodrick’s exposed arm, once again in a cut-off tank top. Rodrick gave her a funny look.

“What do you mean?”

Nicole suddenly found herself tongue tied. “Uh. I mean. You just wear a lot of tank tops.”

Rodrick raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. Nicole leaned back against him again, feeling simultaneously self-conscious and exhilarated. They had never touched for this long before. She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening between them, but she liked the direction it was going. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, Nicole felt more comfortable with Rodrick than she did anyone else - even though most of the time she had known him, he had been a nuisance to her. Well… maybe not a complete nuisance.

It was funny to think that only a few days ago, Rodrick was just an annoyance she dealt with at her job and admired from afar, and now she was sitting on his lap, wearing his flannel. She leaned her head back, looking at the stars. She hadn’t noticed that Caitlin had left, but suddenly she appeared over her line of vision, grinning.

“Do you want a beer?” she asked, holding a cold can over Nicole’s forehead. Nicole reached out to take it, sitting up before cracking it open. She wasn’t in the habit of enjoying beer for the flavor, so she’d rather get drunk off it quickly. It tasted like wet cardboard, but Nicole managed to chug it down.

“Damn, girl, where’d you learn to drink like that?” Chris asked, laughing as Nicole belched loudly. 

“Years of rigorous practice and intense concentration, young padawan,” Nicole replied.

“Do you wanna shotgun one with me?” Chris asked, half-joking, but Nicole was feeling overly confident from the buzz she was feeling and readily stepped up to the challenge.

“Whoever spits it out owes the other ten bucks.”

“Fuckin’ deal,” Chris grinned, Ben cheering him on as he threw a beer toward Nicole. She (surprisingly) caught it.

“Wait, gimme one,” Rodrick said, making grabby hands in Ben’s direction, who threw him a beer.

“On three, okay?” Ben counted. They all started to crack open their beers, Nicole with her house keys, Rodrick with his car keys, and Chris with his pen knife.

“One.. twoooooo…. Three!” Ben yelled, and they all tipped their heads back, drinking from the hole in the side of the can. Nicole’s eyes watered, but she was too competitive to back down now. Foam spilled out of the side of her mouth, but she kept drinking. She could hear people chanting her name as she finally threw the beer can down on the ground, raising her hands in victory. Both Rodrick and Chris were covered in beer foam, but Nicole somehow stayed relatively clean, minus the beer she wiped off her face.

“Ten motherfucking bucks, Chris,” Nicole slurred slightly, grinning at him as he pulled out a crumpled bill from his pocket and threw it at her. 

“Rodrick, how the fuck did you lose, dude? You were the one who taught me how to shotgun,” Ben said, causing Nicole to throw her head back in laughter, before letting out another massive burp that lasted for several seconds. The whole group dissolved into laughter. 

Eventually, the joint got finished, and people started to move back inside. However, Rodrick and Nicole stayed outside, talking about whatever came into their heads.

“Were you ever into Greek mythology as a kid?” Nicole asked, watching Rodrick’s eyes go comically large.

“Does Percy Jackson count?”

Nicole pretended to consider it deeply for a moment, before shaking her head. Rodrick pouted. 

“I only got into Greek mythology because of Percy Jackson. So, I think it still counts.

“Fine. But do you know shit about the constellations they’re associated with?”

Rodrick pointed at the sky, at a random cluster of stars.

“For sure - that's Dingus Humongus, he was a Greek hero with the fattest ass known to man.”

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” Nicole replied, sticking her tongue out as Rodrick squawked in indignation.

“Besides a fat ass, what do you look for in a guy? Not, like, that I care. Just. Wondering.”

“Very good English, Rodrick,” Nicole laughed, “I guess my type is… someone kind. And funny. Someone who tries to be cool and is actually a huge dork. And musical, that's always a plus,” she said, feeling very bold as she looked directly at him. It took Rodrick a moment, but eventually his mouth formed a small “oh” as he realized who she was talking about. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Then he frowned, “I am not a dork.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, “And I’m totally not waiting for you to kiss me right now.”

Nicole watched as the color slowly rose in Rodrick’s cheeks, turning them rosy pink, visible even in the shadow-drenched backyard. Nicole decided to pull yet another risky move, and adjusted herself on Rodrick’s lap so that she was facing him, her thighs on top of his arms around his neck. For such a seemingly confident boy, Rodrick seemed more nervous than she had ever seen him, even when he asked her to come to band practice earlier. Hell, he hadn’t even been that nervous to shotgun the joint into her mouth.

“Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I don’t wanna be bad at it,” he confessed. Just as Nicole thought she couldn’t be any more endeared by this boy. She slid her hands into his hair, thick and soft. She leaned in and gently nosed at his jawline, placing small kisses against his warm skin. Right at his jugular, he smelled like cologne and nighttime and boy, the right mix of clean and sexy. Seemingly gaining his courage, he grabbed Nicole by the back of her head and brought her up to his lips.

It was soft, at first, merely a press of skin to skin, but the two gradually deepened the kiss, moving against each other like they were made for it. Nicole felt like her heart might beat out of her chest - or maybe she was just that high.

Feeling emboldened by Rodrick’s enthusiasm, she slipped her tongue between his lips, gently tangling their tongues together. He let out a low moan, and Nicole could’ve blacked out from how turned on she was by that simple sound. The warmth of his body against hers and the slickness of their mouths together caused a rush of liquid heat to form between Nicole’s legs. Goddamn, he was good at this. Nicole wasn’t sure how many girls Rodrick had kissed before this, but if he was a rookie at this she was damn impressed.

Rodrick’s hands, which had been resting on her waist, slowly moved down her ass and under her skirt, causing Nicole to gasp as he started to knead and grab at her cheeks - not hard, but enough to get her even more hot and bothered than she thought possible.

“Is this okay?” Rodrick asked, his voice low and rough. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Nicole replied, running her fingers through his hair and scratching her nails down his neck. She felt him shiver beneath her, sending a heady rush of power to her stomach and lower. He pulled her closer to him by her ass, so that their crotches pressed together. Nicole was taken aback by the sensation of his bulge pressed against her, but didn’t pull back, instead grinding down on him.

“Are there still people out here?” Rodrick asked shakily. Nicole pulled back and looked over her shoulder - the backyard was empty, thank god.

“No, just us,” Nicole said, turning back and bringing her lips to his ear, biting and licking the sensitive flesh. Rodrick whimpered, grinding up to meet her, and Nicole almost lost it then and there.

The alcohol and weed in her system were slowing her reactions, but also kept her from thinking too much about what she was doing - all she could think about was how much she wanted this. Sober, this might’ve never happened - she was too nervous about what he would think if she ever made a move, constantly overthinking her every word and action. This dumb boy, who rode with her to work, who stayed to the end of her shift and bought her slushies, had wiggled his way into her every thought and every beat of her heart. She knew she was fucked.

She only wished it was literally.

Nicole opened her eyes briefly to catch Rodrick’s gaze, and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the red-and-blue flash of police lights. Rodrick caught sight of the lights at the same time.

“Oh, fuck.”

[terrifictomholland]

you melt my heart - Tom Holland x reader

So, this is a request from @thehappygrungelife​ and this has very much taken on a life of it’s own. This is a monster of a fic.

Word count: 10.7K

Warnings: Curse words, some smut at the end and fluff, there is a little angst and self-doubt. If there’s anything else, lmk!   this stuff also doesn’t happen without a tiny village so here’s to those who’s helped me and cheered me on while writing this @fairytelling​ @angelic-holland​ @xoluvx​ @howdyhoe-holland​ thank you soso much! 

This has taken a lot of time and effort on my part and in a way, it’s quite personal to me, so be gentle with this. It means a lot to me, so without further ado - enjoy.

"You're brighter than all the stars combined," you heard a voice tell you from behind. You rolled your eyes as your lips tugged up in a smile, before turning around coming face to face with the one and only Tom Holland.

"Is that a dig since I don't really ever come to these parties?" you asked, cocking your hip, leaning against the counter as you set your drink aside, seeing him fish-mouth for a brief moment before recovering.

"No! No, it's just...i'm glad you're here," he back-pedaled, "and being bright isn't a bad thing, it's sexy," he recovered and you raised your eyebrow. "Nice save there, you were about a feet deep in digging your own grave there," you said gently patting his shoulder and he chuckled. "Wanna know what else is really sexy?" "No, but I know I'm about to find out regardless," "You naked on my bed," "You're getting predictable Tom, is that the best you've got?" you grinned, looking into his eyes seeing the way they twinkled in the light, the colour changing every so often from a deep brown to a molten caramel colour, depending on where the light struck. "Hell no I haven't even gotten started honey, but I've got to keep you interested don't I?" he challenged. "What if I'm not?" you retorted seeing the challenge spark something in his eyes and you bit your lip, concealing a grin as you hopped up on the counter, feeling him coming closer to you.

The close proximity and the way his cologne mixed with cigarettes invaded your senses and personal space made you a little lightheaded. Your gaze traveling up to his face as his hand came to rest on your waist. "Here we are again huh?" he breathed, his mouth inches away from yours. You felt his body heat radiating off of him,seeing his intense gaze on you as you licked your lips, hands moving up to his shoulders letting them rest there. 

Your eyes wandering down to his muscled arms, seeing all of the intricate tattoos decorating them. You could have spent a lifetime studying them and still find new things about them. "Here we are," you agreed letting your eyes flutter shut as he leaned in, stopping briefly before his lips connected with yours. That made you open your eyes seeing the silent question in his eyes - did you want to stop?

You didn't.

His lips brushed over yours softly at first, teasing you before adding more pressure, his lips rolling over yours, catching your bottom lip between his. You let out a sigh, letting your fingers lace together behind his neck.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip, easily parting your lips, letting your tongues battle it out in their own private dance. His hands roaming along the sides of your body, his hold on you tight enough to bruise. At first it didn't even register for you, until something cool and metal brushed against your tongue. 

You broke the kiss only to see him looking at you questioningly. "Did you get a tongue piercing?" He gave you a cheeky grin as an answer, sticking his tongue out and your throat went dry seeing the silver piercing there. "Impressed?" he asked cockily, watching you with a fire in his eyes that made your stomach burn with desire. "Unexpected," you said at long last to keep him on his toes. 

It turned you on that's for sure, both the piercing itself, letting your mind wander to all of the places that could come in handy and also the way he was looking at you, like you were a meal. "Is that good or bad?" he hummed and you grinned having the upper hand. Instead of replying, you reached up kissing him again, picking up where the two of you left off. 

His hand snaking around your waist bringing you flush against him, his touch scorching your skin. "Tom! You'll nev- oh sorry mate!" one of his friends interrupted, the both of you breaking away from the kiss looking over at his friend. You gulped feeling like someone had doused you with a bucket of ice water. 

Placing your hands on his shoulders gently pushing him off you and you hopped off the counter. Seeing his slightly flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you wanted to stay, god did you want to stay. But if you did, it would be a mistake. "Wait Y/N-" he began, his hands reaching for you but you side-stepped and gave him a small smile waving at him. 

Had his friend not interrupted now, who knows where the two of you ended up doing. Once you got outside, the fog in your head cleared as you breathed in the frosty night air. As you walked you fired off a text to your friends letting them know you went home. The further you walked away from the frat house, the more you sobered up and you blamed yourself for falling so easily to his advances and charming self. It wasn't the first time that he had come onto and you had ended up kissing at a frat party like this one. It was something about him that was so alluring, making you unable to stay away. A lot of it had to do with his reputation as the ultimate bad boy on campus where his dorm was like a revolving door of different girls coming and going as they pleased. While you let yourself be part of the thrill of it, just for a moment because kissing was harmless. You didn't fancy being a notch on his bedpost. 

You weren't that kind of a girl who could pull off a one night stand. No you needed a connection with someone if you were gonna sleep with them, and you didn't know Tom well enough for that. Nor did you want to get too close to him because you'd heard from far too many friends of yours who had slept with him. 

That he fucked them and dumped them which wasn't something you were interested in. In turn that made you guarded around him to protect yourself.                                                              ---- It was a couple of days before you saw Tom again after your little make-out session in the kitchen of his frat house. This time you bumped into him at the pizza place down the street from where your dorm was. 

At first you didn't see him until you heard his voice. "Hey," he said, hands stuffed in his pockets, him rocking back and forth on the back of his heel. "Oh hey Tom," you said with a friendly smile "How's it going?" he asked casually while the two of you both waited for your pizzas. "It's going, cramming for finals now before winter break you know. What about you?" you asked, letting your eyes take him in. He looked gorgeous today, clad in ripped jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt with his signature leather jacket over it, along with a pair of boots. "Ah yes, the panic-induced cramming," he joked making you grin, you saw him step closer to you, letting other people pass through that already got their food. 

He never stepped back again. "You see," you started, glancing at him for a second seeing the way he held your gaze steadily with mild curiosity, "this is study food and a much needed excuse to get out of my room and to see something other than the four walls back in my dorm," you chuckled self-deprecatingly hearing him laugh.

"Ah, the best kind of study food I can imagine," he played along and you grinned, nodding along. "Absolutely," "Do you uh, want some company?" he asked and suddenly his whole demeanor changed, his body language turning into something much more insecure and shy-like. "Oh, sure, yeah I'd love some company," you stuttered out not bothering to hide your surprise, but you felt pleasantly surprised that he asked you and it showed in the smile you gave him. "Cool," he said with a smile as he relaxed, his shoulders dropping and more of his normal confidence coming back. 

Your order was called out so you got it. While Tom waited for his, you scoured the place for a table for the two of you to sit at. "So, what are you studying?" Tom asked sliding into the seat opposite you when he got his pizza, glancing at you, laying down some napkins in the middle of the table. "Psychology," you said taking a bite of pizza, seeing his eyebrows raising, giving you an impressed nod, "That's dope," "What about you?" "You," he said smoothly and you looked down feeling your cheeks heat up. "That's smooth," you offered seeing a shit-eating grin form on his face. "You ain't seen nothing yet," "Boy you're cocky," you laughed shaking your head bemusedly.

"Well, I go after what I want, who can blame me?" he shrugged, you leaned forward on the table eyeing him curiously, "What are you currently wanting?" He shifted in his seat looking at your inquisitive gaze, you didn't ask to be a dick. You were simply curious what he wanted. 

"A bit of fun with you," he told you honestly, to which you gave a small nod, letting his words sink in. He gave you honesty and you felt the need to give him the same favour. "I don't do one night stands," you said bluntly putting it out there. He watched you curiously while taking a sip from his coke. "Who said anything about a one night stand?" he asked, brows furrowing, head tilted to the side watching you with an intensity you weren't expecting from him. "I..I just thought...that's why you're here now, and the party," you trailed off, suddenly feeling thrown off guard. 

He rubbed his fingers over his lips, contemplating what to say, "I'm not gonna lie, I'd love to have you in my bed." he started and you sucked in a breath feeling a sinking feeling take over in your chest, of course all he wanted was a quick fuck and be on his way, leaving you behind along with the rest of his trophies. "But that's not why I'm here now, I'm here because I genuinely want to be here and get to know you." he finished and the sinking feeling in your chest dissipated slightly, but you were still watching him with guarded eyes, "Why me?" you couldn't help asking, a wave of self-doubt washing over you and as much as you tried to hide it, Tom noticed it so he reached his hand out, placing it on top of yours. 

You looked down at his massive hand swallowing yours, feeling slightly soothed by the gentle touch. "Why not you? I think you're remarkable and you don't put up with my bullshit and you're clearly not afraid to give me a piece of your mind," he said flooring you, out of all things, him complimenting you like this was the last thing you were expecting, but it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. "You mean that?" your voice wavering slightly as you looked at him with big, round eyes.

"I really do. How about this? Go on a date with me and if you don't want to do this anymore after that, it's completely fine. But, one date, that's all I'm asking," he said giving your hand a squeeze, letting you know the ball was entirely in your court. You mulled it over, looking over at him to try and see what he was thinking. "Alright, one date," you conceded seeing the smile taking over his whole face and you mirrored his smile, letting out a small giggle in disbelief at what you just agreed to. "Fuck yeah!" he cheered and you shook your head letting out another giggle at his outburst. "So...can I have your number now?" he asked with a cheeky grin and you couldn't help but be slightly endeared as he pulled his phone out handing it over to you and you took it, letting your fingers quickly type your number. "I texted myself," you said as you handed the phone back to him. 

Your fingers brushing against each other. You definitely felt something in that single and very brief touch, judging by the way he was looking at you, he'd felt it too. "Was hoping you would, but, I wouldn't have minded texting you either," he winked, you rolled your eyes good naturedly now, dropping your hand down to your side. "You don't stop do you?" you chuckled watching as he looked at your hand, which was still buzzing. "Nope," he said popping the p.  "How does Wednesday sound?" he asked instead. 

You did some quick thinking, it was Monday today.  "Sounds good to me," you said letting yourself get just a teeny bit excited at the prospect of your date.   So far, from the time you'd spent with Tom at the pizza parlour tonight, you were starting to see that there was more than meets the eye with Tom. 

Despite the tattoos, piercings and his badass looks and his reputation. Only in tiny bits and pieces, the smallest glimpses, but it was something deeper about him, more layers to him that you were itching to get to know more about. "Great, thanks for giving me a fair shot," he said with an adorable smile, the smile alone doing things to you, a warmth spreading through you.

There was definitely more than meets the eye you quickly decided. "Of course, I'm excited," you smiled and it wasn't a lie, you really were excited for this. "Me too," he murmured with a small smile you'd not seen on his face before.                                                         ----- Between cramming for exams and going to lectures and work, you'd felt time went far too fast and too slow and today was the day of your date. 

You and Tom had begun texting 24/7, your phone constantly attached to your hand like glue, feeling giddy as the two of you spent all of your waking hours texting back and forth. You talked about everything between heaven and earth in those messages. Your friends constantly taking the piss out of you, teasing you at your love struck face and silly smile at your phone. 

The incessant questions about who was making you smile so much and who was behind the pep in your step, but you kept it under wraps for now. At least until the date, you were quite sure that you wanted to keep seeing him, no matter how the date would pan out tonight. All Tom had said was that he was picking you up at 7 and to wear casual clothes, no heels. Which was fine by you, you positively hated wearing heels anyways.     Right around 7pm, your phone lit up with a text from him, saying he was here, so you quickly got your things and put your shoes on, calling out a quick bye to your friends before heading out. 

He stood leaning against his car by the passenger side waiting for you, fiddling with his phone. You bit your lip feeling those giddy and fluttery feelings creeping back as you approached him. He looked up when you got nearer and a grin spread on his face, "Hey," "Hi," you replied shyly, You weren't quite as forward in this situation, feeling your nerves taking over just a little and he seemed almost just as shy himself. He reached out pulling you into him giving you a hug that you positively melted in, sneakily breathing in his cologne that was intoxicating. "You look really gorgeous," he murmured in your ear causing you to smile. "Thank you, so do you," and he did, he really did. 

It could've been the lighting, but you were positive you saw him blush before opening the door for you, letting you climb inside as he went around and into the driver seat. "Where are we going?" you asked after you'd driven for a couple of minutes, he let out a small laugh. "Someone's impatient," he teased making you pout slightly, he saw you and smirked, "If I weren't driving I'd sure as hell be kissing that pout off your face right now,"  you looked away from him as your cheeks heated up hearing him say that. 

But you couldn't help but to feel secretly pleased either, a slow burning sensation furling up in your stomach at the prospect of kissing him. You knew the way he kissed and it was addictive. 

The way he kissed with confidence and a very talented tongue sending chills down your spine whenever you thought about it. "Shut up," you mumbled hearing his maddening laughter ring out in the car. The rest of the drive was filled with easy and effortless banter between the two of you. "We're going mini-golfing?" you questioned as you got out of the car, seeing how excited he was, "Hell yeah we are!" he grinned about as excited as a puppy. "Out of all things I thought we were doing tonight, this didn't even make it on the list," you admitted and he looked at you wickedly, 

"You have a list? What did you think we were gonna do?" he teased and you rolled your eyes, "I do not," you defended, "and like...tattoos or something," you muttered but he heard you, letting out a laugh, "Oh honey, haven't I told you? We're doing that for our second date," he grinned impishly. "Oh so we're going on a second date?" it was your turn to tease him now and he confidently nodded with an easy grin, "Yeah we are, you know it too," he said simply seeing that it had the effect he wished for. "Oh god damn you," you said exasperated seeing the smug look on his face as you walked in side-by-side. 

You dared a quick glance at him seeing him already watching you, giving you a private smile before taking your hand firmly in his. His hand engulfing yours. "Your hand is cold," before your filter reached your mouth that was what you said. He looked at you amusedly, "My lips are cold, wanna warm them up too?" at that, your cheeks heated up immensely and he leaned over, kissing your cheek which was enough to send your heart racing. You hadn't been on this date for long enough, but already you could tell you were gonna be enjoying yourself in his company.

"Let's get this game on," you swiftly changed the subject, hearing his throaty chuckle.  As much as you tried to insist on paying, he simply wasn't having it, easily swatting your hand away each time you tried to pay for yourself. "I'll let you kiss me," you bribed hearing him snort, "Oh my god you're a lunatic," "I am not!" you tried to dignify and he shook his head, "How far are we getting if I just don't say anything right now?" "Guess you'll never know," you winked hearing him let out a curse, "Damn,"                                                              ---- "Have you golfed before?" he asked as you got to the first hole, setting up. "A few times here and there," you shrugged, correcting your grip on the club and stance before hitting the ball. You kept your eye on it as it stopped right in front of the hole, "Damn," you heard Tom say, clearly impressed and you felt a surge of pride run through you at that. "Thanks!" you replied cheerfully as you managed to get the ball in the hole with a gentle putt.  You looked behind you seeing him shaking his head at you with an amused look, "A few times here and there hmm?" making you shrug with a giggle, "Mmhm," you winked, seeing him lick his bottom lip before taking his ball and lining that up, you watched him seeing the look of pure concentration creep up on his face, lip sticking out ever so slightly as he eyed the hole then the ball. 

You got a sinking feeling he'd done his fair share of mini-golfing too, he looked far too comfortable and used to golfing. Your gut instinct was right when you saw him sink the ball on the first try. "Oh come on," you huffed seeing the triumphant grin take over his face. "This is gonna be fun," he laughed knowing the two of you would be pretty much neck-in-neck all game.                                                          ---- In the end, Tom beat you by five measly points, making you huff, your arms crossed over your chest. "I had no idea you were such a sore loser," he smirked, rubbing his victory in your face, "I'm revoking all kissing privileges now that you've said that," you said while he eyed you for a moment, biting his lip before shaking his head, "No you're not," he hummed confidently and you just looked at him before a small smile tugged on your lips,

 "No..I'm not," you said softly. He smiled back at you, taking your hand lacing your fingers together. "Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" he asked as his thumb ran along your knuckles. You looked down at your hands, again you felt the warmth spread throughout you like a wildfire at his gentle touch. "Yeah I'm starving," you readily agreed, letting him pull you along to a pub, grabbing a simple meal and a beer each. "How's the date so far?" he asked in-between bites of food, looking at you with interest. "I think it's great," you began, "I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to dates and dating," you said softly, avoiding his gaze feeling like you were being peeled back, like the layer of an onion, exposing more and deeper parts of yourself, as silly as it may be. "You don't?" the way he asked, it wasn't accusatory, more like being curious and almost unfathomable for him that you hadn't dated a lot. 

You could feel your shoulders tensing up and turning slightly defensive, even though you knew he didn't mean anything by it. "No I haven't," you switched on a dime, looking into his eyes steadily, "Is that something that's gonna bother you? That I've never had a boyfriend before and that I'm so inexperienced?" your voice hardening slightly to mask just how incredibly self-aware you felt over that, like you were backed into a corner without an exit strategy. "What? No of course not," he said confused as to how you'd gone from so chilled out to frosty in a matter of a minute not understanding where he'd gone wrong. You deflated at his reassurance, almost crawling into yourself for getting so defensive like that and hot shame ran through you, you were ashamed of your behaviour. 

But you couldn't help it, not when you knew his reputation and the line of girls he had, easily throwing themselves at him and you knew he got with them and he had bags of experience. You couldn't help but to compare yourself to the girls you'd seen him hooking up with. 

You were nothing like them whatsoever, so this was all leaving you feeling a certain way. "I'm sorry," you began as your cheeks heated, looking at him, you knew you owed him an explanation. He gave you a slight smile holding your hand and giving it a squeeze, the touch both soothing and grounding you.

"It's just...I don't understand why me? Because I know about you and your ways, you find a new girl at each party to hook up with. I've seen you in action," you said chewing on your lip seeing him listen to you intently before you continued, "I just...I feel really insecure, because I don't have any experience with...anything, and I'm scared you're gonna realize that and I don't have anything to offer you that's gonna keep you coming back to me. You're gonna get bored and leave and go find someone else," you rushed out, feeling the blood coursing in your veins and you could hear the loud pounding of your heartbeat as you laid it out there, your fears for him to dissect. 

You felt like you had put yourself under a microscope. You shut your eyes tightly, letting out a shaky breath as your hands began to tremble while you waited for whatever he was going to say next. "Hey, look at me," he said gently, his fingers coming up under your chin and bringing them up so you met his gaze, seeing just how calm and steady he was right now. 

For some reason, you could feel yourself relax slightly. You licked your lips nervously, bringing your beer up having a sip of it just to have something to do.

"I'll be honest with you, I really couldn't give a flying fuck whether or not you've slept with 30 different guys or no guy. That's not why I'm attracted to you, and it's not something that's gonna make me bored of you either...if anything, it makes me want to stay even more, because it means we'll have time to teach you all the fun stuff and I'll help you explore the things you like too." you let out a small laugh still, your cheeks flushed at his words,

"I promise I will not get bored of you, you keep me on my toes and I really fucking dig that," he finished and you looked at him wordlessly, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You gave him a small but genuine smile, feeling something shifting between the two of you into something more, "I'd like that...down the line," you admitted. You were only human, of course you'd thought about what it would be like to sleep with Tom and having him rock your world, but now, you felt much more at ease around him because he knew where you stood and how you felt now. You trusted him to not abuse that, which you didn't think he would. "Yeah?" he asked, eyes lighting up as if it was Christmas morning, you let out a small giggle seeing how he reacted. "You're fucking stunning," he complimented and you felt your heart grow three sizes as he said it, "Thank you, you're pretty handsome too," you grinned.   After you got that off your chest, the rest of your night went smooth sailing, you felt much lighter once you had that discussion. 

Heavy and deep as it may have been for a first date, it felt appropriate somehow. He took you home and dropped you off outside of your dorm. Your body turning to him in the car, watching him. "Will I see you soon again?" he asked after a moment, his thumb reaching out to touch your cheek and your eyes fluttered shut, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. "I think it's gonna be a few days now,since my exams are starting," you said regretfully, "That's alright, let me know when you're done with them and we'll pencil in another date," he said easily, reaching over kissing your forehead. You let out a content sigh as his lips lingered before he pulled away. "Oh it's a date for sure," you promised, slipping out of the car and heading up to the front door, turning around and you saw him wave at you before pulling away from the curb and drive off.                                                         ---- Since you'd been so preoccupied with your exams, you and Tom hadn't been able to see each other since your date, but that didn't stop either of you from continuously texting and talking on the phone into the early hours of the morning, leaving you more zombie-like than human, but oh how giddy he made you feel.  

You were seeing him tonight, over at his dorm which had you feeling all kinds of things. Mostly excitement to see him, but also a little nervous because you didn't know what the two of you were gonna do.  

You got there, knocking on the door and while you waited outside, the  butterflies and the giddiness came back in full force, stronger now than ever before. You'd missed him, and you were quite sure he had missed you too. "Hey," he grinned opening the door, you'd expected to find him in his signature ripped jeans and black shirt. 

But instead, the sight that greeted you was of him in a pair of sweats and a fitted white t-shirt. A smile spreading across your face seeing him looking so soft and cosy. You went over to him easily, giving him a hug. "Hey," you murmured against him, breathing in his comforting and already familiar scent. "Come on in," he ushered, shutting the door behind you. It was the first time you were there, seeing yet another part of himself. 

What surprised you was how relatively tidy he had it and the amount of photos he had hung up on the walls of his family and friends. You stopped there, taking them all in while he hung back, letting you familiarize yourself here. "Are these photos all of your family?" you asked turning around, seeing him come over to you, standing right behind you as his arms came around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

Even through your clothes you could feel the way his touch burned in the best way. "Yeah, that's my mum and dad. Those other rascals are my brothers. I've got twin brothers, Harry and Sam and then Paddy who is the youngest," he said proudly, something in his eyes turning very soft as he spoke of them. "Are you close to them?" his eyes met yours and you saw so much in his eyes that he didn't let others see. "I am very close to my brothers yeah. I'm really close to my parents too. We talk daily on the phone or facetime," he shrugged giving you another private smile that he only reserved for you. You were about to melt to the floor. Whenever a guy talked about his family you were a goner. 

Especially with Tom, who, with his tough-as-nails looking exterior and then to find out he talked to his family every single day and spoke so highly of them? That was really attractive.

"I can tell they mean a lot to you," you smiled, snaking your own arm around his waist snuggling into him. "Absolutely, they've all got a tattoo. It's the first letter of all their names but still," he murmured lifting his shirt up. Your eyes immediately drawn to his chest, feeling a very different sensation form in the pit of your stomach seeing that he had his nipple pierced.  

Your eyes moved even further down, seeing different letters tattooed on his rib cage right below his heart. "Did they hurt?" you whispered unable to take your eyes off them, "Yeah those ones hurt probably the most. The skin there is very thin and you're right on the bone," he said letting you touch them. 

You glanced up at him seeing the way he was watching you so carefully and intently. "Did that hurt too?" you asked motioning for his nipple piercing. He let out a laugh, "I don't really remember that one, I did that drunkenly," he confessed, his cheeks heating up. "Can I touch?" you asked innocently seeing him bite his lip giving you the go-ahead with a nod of his head. Your hand shook ever so slightly as you placed it on his warm chest, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch. Honestly, he was so ripped it made you question whether he was made out of marble. Your fingers coming in contact with the cold metal and he drew in a ragged breath, letting out a small hiss. "Sensitive," he said in a strangled voice, all you did was give him an innocent smile in return.

Letting your gaze move down the rest of his torso seeing the 6-pack he had, you let your fingers touching his abs, feeling the way they flexed under your touch. Your eyes lowering further down to the happy trail leading down to the promised land. 

Making it so that it was your turn to swallow thickly thinking about that happening someday, you wanted him, plain as day now. It wasn't something you could avoid, some nights you'd toss and turn being so turned on just by thinking about him and his tongue piercing and how good he could make you feel.

You let yourself lean forward while you had the courage, placing gentle kisses to his nipple hearing him curse under his breath, sucking on the sensitive bud, letting your tongue swirl around his piercing. "Feels good," he grunted closing his eyes. You glanced up seeing the effect you had on him, making you feel powerful. 

With a pop, you pulled away rolling down his shirt and you continued to walk around in there like you hadn't just done that. "Oh you fucking minx," he cursed in frustration, looking at you as you eyed a bookshelf full of movies and other little trinkets that must have held a lot of meaning for him With a sly look over your shoulder you winked, "But you like it," He plonked down on his couch watching you with unabashed desire swirling in his eyes. 

The way he looked at you ignited that fire in your belly once again and your core started throbbing. You didn't say anything, instead a tiny smirk forming on your face as you kept walking around, touching different knickknacks he had being aware of his intense gaze on you.

"So, what are we doing?" you hummed taking a seat right next to him feeling him pull you into his lap, his fingers digging into your thighs as you bracketed your knees on either side of him, staring down at him. The more you got to know him, the more comfortable you felt around him, no longer afraid to tease him. 

You moved in attaching your lips to his neck placing gentle kisses there hearing him sigh, head cocked to the side. "I thought we could bake together," he started shakily, hands holding onto you tighter, "I grew up with mum always baking something back home, so I thought it could be a fun thing we could do," he shrugged trying to play off just how soft and pure this was. 

Your heart was growing about five sizes too big for this boy and this was the last thing you expected him to say while he had you in his lap, but you weren't complaining. "I'd love to," you whispered laying your head on his chest feeling how his heart was beating just a little bit faster than normal, which made you smile, he wasn't superhuman after all. "Really? You would?" he asked carding his fingers through your hair. Your head was a in a bit of a tailspin at the incredibly fast change of pace, but you liked this just as much. 

"Yeah of course, I love to bake, what did you have in mind?" "I thought we could do something relatively simple? Maybe brownies?" "I love brownies," you said excitedly, him letting out a breath as if he'd been holding it, "Were you nervous I wouldn't want to bake with you?" "I was afraid you'd think I was lame for rather wanting to spend my time with you letting you know about my family and bake with me, instead of fucking, or well...we can still have a bit of fun" he said cheekily after a moment of silence making you laugh. "I'd much rather do this anytime over a frat party. I prefer seeing you like this," you mused seeing the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to the centre of your palm. "Do you mean that?"

"I really do, the party scene isn't something for me, I much rather prefer doing these kinds of things. Have a quiet night in, baking, or like...pop a movie in, have a glass of wine, whatever. Trivia night at the pub? hell yeah, go bowling or even mini-golfing. Sign me the fuck up," you shrugged feeling his chest rumbling with laughter, "God marry me already," he joked making you laugh and you snuggled further into him, face nuzzled in his neck. "You smell really good," you hummed, "Thanks love, I showered for once before you came," he teased and you slapped his arm pulling back looking at him, seeing the cheeky grin. 

"You're such a dick at times you know," you smirked before getting up leaving him on the couch. "Wait where are you going? Come back," he said making grabby hands at you, "Get up lazy arse, we're baking," you clicked your tongue having a look around getting familiar opening different drawers and cabinets. 

Tom leaned against the door frame seeing you plucking out different measurements and ingredients. "You look so hot right now all bossy and direct," you heard him say, your cheeks flushed but you glanced at him seeing the grin across his face. "Don't think for a second you're getting out of this. You're making these brownies with me or so help me god," you threatened with a glint in your eye. 

He held his arms up in mock surrender walking over to you, arms wrapping around you from behind resting them on your stomach. "Tom come on," you laughed softly feeling him place a soft kiss on your neck, inching away because it tickled. "You can do the measuring and mix everything. Put those muscles to good use," you smirked, easily slipping out of his hold, turning the oven on to preheat it. 

You bit your lip looking over at him, seeing him do as he was told while you lined up the tin with baking paper. "You've been checking me out?" he smirked making you flush, glad that your face was hidden, "Just mix it together," you huffed in exasperation hearing his laugh ring out. "Hey Tom?" you asked walking back to him with the tray, "Yeah love?" your belly filled with warmth and pleasure whenever he called you love, "What's your fondest memory of being in the kitchen with your mum?" "Probably when I was around 7 or 8, mum let me help her in the kitchen making my birthday cake. I promptly wanted a fire truck cake and I felt so big and I was so proud of myself, helping her with measuring the ingredients and mixing the batter. I even got to help her put the cake in the oven, with her supervision of course," he chuckled, his eyes shining with fondness as he told you about the very precious memory. 

You couldn't help but to grin yourself picturing such a young Tom, sans all the piercings and tattoos, the way his eyes would lit up as he got to help his mum with his cake. "I bet that was the tastiest cake you've ever had," you smiled as he popped the brownie batter in the oven. He put the timer on before walking over to you, lifting you up on the counter gently, holding your body close. "It really was. I got to help decorate it and everything, the bragging rights I had for that cake was ridiculous," he murmured making you laugh softly. "I would too," you smiled letting your fingers rake through his buzz-cut watching the way his eyes closed.

"You look even more like a bad boy with this buzz-cut," you murmured as he opened his eyes looking at you, "Bad boy huh?" he smirked and you smacked his arm, "You know you are," you huffed, feeling the way he placed his hands on your hips, your legs opening to let him stand between them. "I'm glad I let you talk me into that date," you murmured watching as he leaned forward kissing your nose. "I am too,"                                                             ---- The rest of the evening was spent on a very small couch he had, watching reruns of New Girl, both of you gorging on the brownies that tasted fucking amazing, "Your mum taught you very well," you said softly, head resting on his chest and your legs entwined. You nuzzled your face closer to him, being on the brink of almost falling asleep because you were so comfortable and his fingers running up and down your arms. "I love that you sound so shocked," he mumbled sarcastically making you let out a sleepy giggle. "'m sorry," you grinned lifting your head up, resting your chin on his chest seeing him already watching you. "It's okay love," he hummed.

Something fell over the two of you, a shift settling and all you felt was calmness. Your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips. He was doing the same, slowly leaning forward and your heart started beating faster as you realized what was about to happen. 

Without knowing it, you were holding your breath in anticipation and only let it out when his breath fell onto your lips. His hand came up to cup your cheek and you held onto his wrist, feeling his pulse racing. "Can-" he started and you nodded quickly, "-yes, please," you whispered swallowing and his lips brushed over yours. Your eyes automatically closing as his lips caught yours in a lock. You felt like your skin was buzzing, every touch of his sending electricity coursing through your entire body, lighting it up from the inside out.

 Your lips finding a rhythm with ease as they glided along each other. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping along your lip causing you to let out an involuntary sigh, parting your lips for him to slip his inside of your mouth. You let out a small moan feeling the cold metal of his tongue piercing against your own. Your hand moving up to hold his face as your tongues battled it out.

Ever so slowly he pulled away and you took a much needed breath, your faces still milimetres away from his, you were so close you could count his eyelashes and had a close-up of all of his freckles. "That was quite something," he hummed with a pleased smile and you couldn't help but to smile back, pecking his lips repeatedly. 

Now that you've gotten a taste of his kisses you wanted more. "It really was," you agreed in between kisses.  You easily moved into his lap, straddling him as you held onto him, both of you going back to kissing passionately and needily. 

Hands roaming and exploring each others bodies, just as your tongues were exploring each others mouths. "I don't think you should go out in this weather and it's really late," he said once you broke away from the kiss, both of you out of breath with swollen lips, a crinkle in your eyes. You glanced out the window seeing the storm.

 It was nasty looking, and to be fair, you really did want to stay the night. "Okay," "I'm not gonna lie, I thought I was going to have to work harder to make you stay the night," he laughed, you looked at him with a glint in your eyes. "Are you trying to get me into bed?" His own eyes twinkled with mischief, "You offering?" "I'll take the couch," you grinned at his antics, "No c'mon, you're my guest you can take the bed," he refused and you gave him a look, "It's one night, I think I can manage your couch," you said pecking his lips but he was adamant. "Or...we share the bed?" he asked looking at you questioningly. "Alright, but you keep your hands to yourself," you warned and he smirked which made the throb between your legs come back full force at the prospect of sharing a bed with him. "Don't worry about my hands, you should keep yours to yourself because I know I'm hot," he said puffing his chest out. "You're more than welcome to sleep on the floor you know," you smiled sugary-sweet. "Like I'm gonna give up an opportunity to have you in my bed," he scoffed, "Oh my god, let's just go to bed already," you shook your head with a small laugh, climbing off of him. 

You got up and walked to his bedroom. It was the first time you were in there, seeing the simple twin-sized bed, more pictures hung up on the walls and a closet. Along with clothes strewn across the floor and some random papers here and there. "I figured you'd want something more comfortable to sleep in," he said holding out a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. "Oh thank you," you said softly, taking the clothes from him. "I'll go get ready in the bathroom," he said easily and you let out a breath the second he was gone, letting yourself feel overwhelmed for a moment while you were alone with your thoughts. 

You'd never shared a bed before with anyone, so a little bit of nervousness was just part of the package. You quickly stripped out of your clothes and decided to just put his t-shirt on. It made you look like you were swimming in it, but it smelled exactly like him and that was quickly becoming your favourite scent. 

You were definitely gonna take this shirt to sleep in. You glanced at his bed crawling into it, and just as you were about to pull the covers over you, he walked inside again. You swallowed thickly seeing him in his boxers only and the way his eyes took you in, clad in just a t-shirt of his. "This is a sight I could get used to," he said going over to the bed and crawling in beside you. It was a tight fit, but also made for a perfect excuse for you to cuddle up to Tom. 

"Me too," you grinned, softly kissing him as your legs tangled together under the covers and he wrapped a strong arm around you. The both of you sharing lazy kisses and gentle touches. "Goodnight," you whispered once you broke away, just as he turned off the lights and you cuddled up against him, pulling the comforter over you. "Goodnight love, sweet dreams," he whispered feeling his lips on your forehead.                                                            ---- The next morning, you woke up before Tom, still wrapped up in his arms. You took this time to really admire him, seeing the way his eyelashes rested against his cheeks, the way his lips were formed in a tiny pout, soft snores escaped him.

You were so fucking smitten with this boy. Your gaze moved down to his arm, seeing the intricate details of his tattoos, gently tracing them with your finger. "That one is for my grandpa," his raspy morning voice cracked slightly. A gentle smile formed on your face now seeing as how he was awake. You leaned down giving it a gentle kiss. "Good morning," you said laying down beside him feeling him pull you close. "Morning love, how'd you sleep?" he asked rubbing his eyes. All of this felt so sickeningly cute and domestic. Making you feel like your heart was gonna burst out of your rib cage. "The best sleep I've had in a long, long time," you confessed seeing his face brighten, "Me too, you should sleep over more often," he grinned cheekily pressing a kiss on your cheek. "Don't get ahead of yourself now," you teased feeling him peck your lips.   "You hungry?" he asked sitting up while you burrowed into his duvet, unwilling to get up just yet, you being far too comfortable there, "A bit," "Well, we've got brownies," he offered making you giggle. "Sounds like an excellent breakfast,"                                                            ---- Weeks flew by, Tom and you got even closer. The two of you alternated between hanging out at each others dorms, hanging out with your mutual friends and spending the night there.

 Other nights you had date nights where usually you'd find some fun activity to try out. Tonight was the NYE party at Tom's frat house, which of course you were going to with your friends.   The more time you'd spent with him you noticed that Tom had cut back on going to the parties ever since you came into his life. It made you feel warm inside, knowing that there had been a change in him. And you were part of the reason why.

You never wanted to change him against his own will and it was something you'd made abundantly clear, but he was adamant that he didn't mind it and that he'd much rather spend his time with you over those silly parties any day nowadays. For the both of you it was a no-brainer that the two of you were dating, but it would be very nice to be able to call him your boyfriend, and for him to call you his girlfriend. 

So that was where you were now, boyfriend and girlfriend. While you got ready tom fired off a text to you, asking where you were, which brought you back to this evening. Q

uickly typing out a message that you had arrived at the frat house. Already you could hear the music blaring from outside and you knew it was gonna be absolutely packed. You still weren't crazily fond of these parties, but it was NYE and it was Tom. 

You'd walk through fire for him if he asked you. Once inside, you were greeted with even louder music and people everywhere. There wasn't a single space that wasn't occupied somehow. You bit your lip knowing it was going to be damn near impossible to find Tom now in this crowd.

"Hey Y/N!" a voice called out making you look up seeing one of Tom's best and closest friends, Harrison with his signature cheeky smile and slightly bloodshot eyes from already going hard with the booze. At that you smiled feeling a little more comfortable and relieved that you had seen a familiar face.

"Hey Harrison!" you greeted, "Do you happen to know where Tom is?" you shouted so he could hear you over the loud music, the bass vibrating through your body. "Yeah, I'll take you to him!" he shouted back, taking your hand and guiding you through the crowd. "You're good for him you know," he said and you glanced at him seeing the genuine smile grazing his lips. "How so?" you called back,

"Before you he fucked anything and anyone that walked, but now? You've got him wrapped around his finger and he's just," he turned his head slightly, contemplating which word to use, "a better person for knowing you, you've not really tamed him, but you've made him shift priorities. That's not a bad thing, hell, his grades in school are getting better thanks to you," Harrison laughed not realizing the impact his words had on you.

Tom's grades were improving? He never told you that. Nevertheless, the pride coursing through you was overwhelming. A grin spreading over your face once your eyes finally landed on him, seeing him in an intense game of beer pong.  

As if he could tell you had walked into the room, he looked up seeing you there. Wordlessly he put the paddle down and he walked over to you, embracing you in a tight hug, giving you a sweet kiss making you giggle against his lips, "Hiya love," he grinned as he held you close to him, "hi baby," you grinned as you tasted the beer on his tongue, "kicking ass are we?" you teased looking over at the pool table. "You know it!" he winked, "You gonna give me a prize if I win?" he asked adorably, "Well, then you'd better win," you smirked with a slight smirk, slapping his ass teasingly as he walked back to the pool table, throwing a wink your way, "This is for you love," he called out.

You grinned watching him and his teammate successfully sinking the ball into the opposing team's cup, making them drink up. It was a given that Tom was winning this game, the way he walked over to you when the game was finished with a confident stride. His hands firmly holding your hips, "Soo...what's my prize?" he asked as his lips attached to your neck, "Well," you started trailing a finger down the front of his shirt seeing his eyes change colour to something more dark and sinful, 

"You might be getting that prize later, away from prying eyes...all alone in your bedroom," you whispered, letting your lips graze his earlobe, feeling him shiver and his grip on you tightening. "Fucking right I am," he said, licking his lips when you pulled away to look at him. You gave him an impish smile, kissing him and tugging on his bottom lip teasingly, hearing his low groan. Let the teasing begin.                                                           ---- You kept that up all night long, riling him up and teasing him. He never strayed far from you, just like you didn't want to stray too far from him either as you hung out with his and your mutual friends. 

He had you firmly in his lap, gently mouthing and nibbling on your neck making it hard for you to keep focus on your friends and what they were saying. "Tom," you warned in a whisper, turning your head to look at him, seeing him looking at you with those eyes of his that could melt a glacier. "What? I want my prize now love," he murmured impatiently. You leaned forward capturing his pouty lip between yours, tugging on it feeling him let out a soft moan, only meant for your ears. "Let's go then," you whispered breaking the kiss.

The two of you finally made it inside of his room, him making sure that the door was locked so no one would interrupt you. While he did that, you toed off your shoes. "Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?" he murmured attaching his lips to your neck as you let out a tiny moan, exposing your neck for him to keep kissing. 

Your nimble fingers quickly working on un-buttoning his shirt, you pushed it off him as you lowered your head, kissing over his nipple and sucking on it, letting your tongue flick the piercing hearing the ragged breath he drew. "Love," he warned as your nails scraped across his abs, feeling them ripple under your touch. 

You ran your fingers teasingly along the seam of his boxers making him groan. "I've wanted this all night," you whispered, leaving open mouth kisses all along his chest and abdomen, your teeth nipping on his hipbones hearing his curse and the way he gripped your hair. "You're driving me wild," he cursed. You fell to your knees, working his jeans quickly, pulling them down along with his boxers coming face-to-face with his rock hard cock, seeing how it curled up toward his belly. 

The sight alone made your pussy clench and you licked your lips, glancing up at Tom seeing him watch you with hooded eyes. You swallowed, letting your hand wrap around his cock. He hissed as your cool hand came in contact with his cock, your hand pumping him and your thumb collected the pre-come using it to make for an easier glide. "God that's so good," he grunted as you twisted your wrist, squeezing him at the base, growing bolder and bolder with each of his praises. 

You leaned forward, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock hearing his low growl, right before you wrapped your lips around the head, sucking away like it was a lolly, pulling a string of moans and curses from Tom's lips. "Wanna make you feel good," you moaned against him, the vibrations making him moan. 

He gripped your hair tighter as you mouthed along at the tip, your tongue licking the slit, feeling him grip your hair in a ponytail keeping your hair out of your face. "You do, you're making me feel so good," he panted as you sucked harder, taking more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out. 

What you couldn't reach with your mouth, you used your hand, pumping him faster. "Come for me," you moaned looking up at him with your wide eyes. You felt him throbbing and pulsating in your mouth right before he came with a shout, you moaning around him, swallowing everything he gave you. "God damn you're incredible," he panted. 

You wiped your lips feeling a surge of pride run through you as you stood up, giving him a passionate kiss. "Fuck me," you begged against his lips before he pulled away and you let out a small whimper, wanting to keep kissing him. "You sure love?" he asked. You'd done a lot of things together, but you hadn't actually had sex yet.

"I'm positive," you assured looking into his eyes. He kept your gaze, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation but he found none. He backed you over to the bed, lowering you on it and placing kisses all over your body. He hiked your dress up over your stomach exposing your lace panties. 

You got wetter and wetter by the second feeling him place kisses all along your inner thighs, alternating between scorching kisses and gently biting down making you moan. "Please Tom," you begged feeling his hot breath on your centre through your panties, feeling like you were gonna explode without a single touch. He finally pulled down your panties and you sucked in a sharp breath feeling his tongue at your centre, licking a fat stripe all along your folds. 

You let out a moan, rutting your hips up for more, feeling his tongue fuck into of you. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and you threaded your fingers in his short hair feeling him put that skilled tongue of his to good use. Before Tom, you'd never had an orgasm, but since meeting him, the two of you had a lot of fun exploring what you liked the best. You let out a cry, gripping onto his hair even tighter now hips lifting off the bed when he circled your clit with his mouth. His tongue piercing finding your clit and you let out a broken sob, making stars explode behind your eyelids. "Oh god," you cried out bucking your hips feeling the fire building in the pit of your stomach, desperately chasing your orgasm. 

"You make the prettiest noises when you're close, love," he hummed against your clit and you let out a high-pitched moan, the vibrations running all the way through your body. 

From the tip of your toes all the way up to your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, your legs starting to shake. "Gonna come," you choked pulling harder on his hair feeling his finger slowly slide inside of you, curving it to find your spot easily. Thrusting his finger against it repeatedly making you cry out in sheer pleasure as your orgasm crashed into you with formidable force.

You chanted his name over and over as you came, feeling him lapping up your juices as you began coming down from your high, your legs still shaking post-orgasm. He kissed his way up your body, his lips finding yours and you couldn't help but to moan tasting yourself on his lips.

"That was incredible," you praised him feeling his smile against your lips, "I'm glad, you look divine when you come," he murmured breaking the kiss and you let out a giggle. You removed your dress, taking your bra with you before laying down on the bed, seeing him reaching into the bed side table, pulling out a condom. "You still wanna do this?" he asked wanting to double-check one last time, "Yes, if you won't fuck me I'll go find someone else who will," you moaned impatiently seeing him roll the condom on. 

"You wouldn't fucking dare," he growled getting ontop of you, pinning your arms above your head to keep you in place. Your heart raced the action as you let out a moan, bucking your hips greedily feeling his cock brush against your entrance. "Oh god," you breathed sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, looking up at Tom seeing him watching you, "I'll be gentle," he assured leaning down to kiss you as he slid inside of you. "You're big," you chuckled breathily, trying to stay in the moment and not get completely overwhelmed. 

"You okay?" he asked against your lips, "I'm fine, just gotta adjust for a second," you promised, letting him kiss you, your mouth opening as he sucked on your bottom lip making you moan. "Move," you encouraged, raising your hips, hearing a pained groan leave his lips. 

You clung to him, nails digging into his back as he pulled out of you, just to thrust back inside, still taking it slow. It wasn't until you were a moaning and sweaty mess under him that he picked his pace up, his hand on your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder. 

You gasped at the new angle, feeling like a whole new world  of pleasure opened up for you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered feeling his cock hit your spot, his hips rolling in a circle, knowing exactly how to move his hips to bring you the most pleasure. You didn't want to disappoint so you began rolling your hips too, meeting his thrusts hearing him curse. "Fuck honey," he grunted, grasping onto the sheets holding it so tightly his knuckles turned white. "You fuck me so good," you purred in his ear feeling him pick up his pace, thrusting harder into you. 

You let out a moan as your orgasm began building for a second time, your stomach tensing and your pussy clenched down around him, "So fucking tight," he grunted, fingers sliding down to your front and starting to rub your clit. Your eyes rolled back and you clenched down hard around him, head thrown back in pleasure as your orgasm took over, feeling your entire body trembling and shaking. 

Tom let out a shout before you felt him pulsating as he came into the condom. He collapsed on top of you and you clung to him, running your fingers up and down his back as the both of you came down from your highs, bodies sticking together with sweat. 

You tried catching your breath, feeling nothing but pure bliss and happiness, "That was amazing," he took the words right out of your mouth as he looked up at you with a happy smile on his face. You melted at the sight of his disheveled state. 

Cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling and his hair was all mussed up from how you'd pulled it. "I don't think I'm letting you out of this bed now," you grinned saucily, 

"Oh no I've created a monster," he grinned and you swatted his arm, "Watch it you," you smiled feeling him roll off you and he got out of the bed. While you cuddled down under the covers, waiting for him to join you. "Come back, it's cold," you called out as a pout formed on your lips. "However shall I warm you up?" He returned moments later, crawling back in bed wrapping himself around you like an octopus. 

You let out a content sigh snuggling into his chest. "Gee I wonder," you smirked, hips bucking into him and you definitely felt him stirring again which made desire pool between your legs once more. "You're my favourite person," he mumbled after a moment of silence, again taking you completely by surprise at his gentle and soft demeanor. His words bringing tears to your eyes because it was such an innocent thing to say. "You're my favourite person too in the whole wide world," you whispered emotionally, looking at him and he smiled, wiping your tears away before kissing you adoringly, cupping your cheek. "This is gonna be the best year yet," he murmured against your lips,

"Yeah it is, which, we really should start off with a bang." you readily agreed, kissing him and swiftly rolling on top of him, hearing the grunt he let out.

"Fuck yeah we are,"

[charlienick]

home is the thing you run from

I sneak out of my mother’s house every night after she goes to sleep. I call it her house because it is not my home. Home is where I’d feel at peace. Home is where I’d know my own name. No one calls me by the right name in the daylight, and I want my name back. During the day, I tell the boy with curls and buck teeth and eyes like a lightning strike to call me Eddie. He never does. At night, I don’t care what he calls me. At night, I am always me, no matter the name, because the woman who puppets me puts her hands to sleep. I don’t sleep much.

I make it look like my body is still in my bed with pillows under covers in case my mother comes in. I look at it. I wonder if, maybe, it doesn’t matter what’s in my bed as long as something is sleeping: human, ghost, or monster. I wonder if, maybe, I am the ghost haunting my own body. I wonder if, maybe, my mother doesn’t care what’s inside me so long as she can control it. I look at myself in the reflection of the window. I look human, but I could still be a monster, because I know better than anyone that nobody can tell the difference between the two. My puppeteer mother taught me humanity is monstrous, and after this long, I'm starting to believe her. I open the window. I climb out onto the roof and jump off. I stick the landing and look up at my mother’s bedroom window. I look back at my own room; my prison cell. I run.

I take nothing with me but a five dollar bill and my name. Eddie. Eddie. It beats with every crash of my heart against my ribs, begging at my viscera to become unconfined. It breathes with every gasp my lungs take, greedy in the stifling air of this monstrous town. I have seen the face of evil, and I have devoured it, vivisected my own demons, and now they’ve made a home inside me. Evil broke my bones and I just put them back together in the shape of a boy. Evil is the ghost laying in my bed while I run through town, ducking through trees to avoid the streetlamps. I want to be me, but I don’t even know who that is. I want to be me, but I really don’t know if I ever was to begin with.

I am always running, it’s just that sometimes, I’m not allowed to look like it. I am always running, it’s just that sometimes, my lungs can’t take the pressure and they burst open, flowers blooming and choking me stiff. Those flowers are beautiful but the puppeteer rips them out root from root when my inhaler comes out—useless, a placebo, empty of any real power, just like me. I am scared more than I cannot breathe. My head is sick more than my body is. The puppeteer would have my hide if she could lick my brain, if she knew that I know how I am not sick or dirty or broken. I am Eddie. I am Eddie.

My name is alive inside me when I end up in front of the lightning strike boy’s house. I grab a stone and toss it at his window, one for every time I thought of him tonight and was ashamed of it. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The boy I love comes to his window and opens it, looking exhausted and excited and lovely. He is always himself, unabashedly and unashamedly. I wonder if he knows I love him because I love how he wears freedom like a second skin. I wonder if he knows I love him at all.

He smiles down at me. Eds, he says, and it’s not my name, but it still sounds like home, the one I’m not allowed to live in. I smile back. I always fashioned myself a little like Juliet: just a broken bird, waiting patiently for somebody to save her. But maybe I was never broken at all, and neither was Juliet; we were just waiting for somebody to tell us that we can save ourselves. I remember the lightning strike boy setting my arm in place when it snapped in two, when evil laughed in our faces. Evil came in the shape of a smile. But maybe the true evil has lived inside our homes all along and we never even knew it. My evil has strings and a placebo inhaler in a hand outstretched; my boy’s is a wolf who’s wearing his skin. We all have things that long to control us, but in the end, they never even come close. They don’t know about the things we love when they aren't looking.

He says, I thought I was your Flynn Rider. I don’t have enough hair for you to climb. I say, then come to me. He does, and as he lands at my feet, I ask him if he likes running. He smiles, like he is only ever smiling, and says, I like you. I grab his hand, and together, we run into the night. There, we don’t need names to still be ourselves. He screams, unafraid, not never considering he could hide from the light. Laughing like he is only ever laughing, he says, our friends will never let us live it down if they find out we went running around town all night in our fucking pajamas, you loser! I shrug, say nothing, and keep running. He doesn’t know that all I do is run, even without him, even without our friends, even and especially without my mother.

We stop at the school, and I buy him a coke from the vending machine outside the building while we catch our breath. He leans against the cool brick, glowing red from the light of the Coke machine, and pulls out a cigarette. He is unpredictable and wild and lovely, and my lungs don't mind his smoke. They are not sick. I have to tell myself they are not sick, or else the fear will scream louder than the love.

When he looks up at me through his eyelashes, he doesn’t look evil—he looks beautiful. Lightning strikes. He tosses his cigarette to the ground, only one drag in, and stamps it out with his boot as he reels me in. I kiss him back, because it is dark, and we are young, and there is nobody around to tell us we are sick and dirty and broken for wanting to. I tell myself that two boys can kiss without it being evil. The words are louder than anything else. The kiss tastes sweet, like soda and freedom. There is a lot my mother doesn’t know. There is a lot my mother will never, ever find out about.

We ditch the cans and keep running, and when we laugh, we don’t sound like the evil that tried to feast on us. We don’t sound like our mothers who don’t understand us. We don’t sound like anything but ourselves. I drop him back off at his house, and because I’m wheezing a bit, he asks if I brought my inhaler with me. I shake my head and smile, broad and proud and brave.

I don’t need it, I say. He smiles back. Lightning strikes, and I am home.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Miss Midnight (Steve Harrington x Vampire!Reader)

For the SPOOKTOBER 2018 Competition

Requested by @electroma89 : This is my Halloween themed request! I was thinking on a Steve Harrington x vampire!reader with prompts 118 and 155. Reader was trying to hide being a vampire (only dates at night, "I'm not really hungry", etc.) from Steve but he discovers her on Halloween night.

MasterList

Words: 4072 

Warnings: Fluff and pining?? Sadly, despite the raunchy gif its quite tame!

A/N: Okay, turns out, for all my bashing of the mishandling of the vampire genre in YA books I’ve read, I am, in fact, equally terrible at writing for a vampire character. So I humbly offer this weird fic as penance for all the years I’ve spent shit-talking YA Vamp Books! Prompts in Bold-Italics. I tweaked one of the prompts btw!

Songs: Monster Mash and Spooky Movies

The night was young. You had decided to venture out into town -being bored and hungry were your two life staples at this point. First, you would hunt, the woods in Hawkins were surprisingly well stocked with adequate prey when there were no derelicts loitering about in dark alleys. Once sated, you would find something to chase the boredom away, maybe go to the arcade if it was still open.

While strolling through town, most of the shops were closed except for one, the local diner. You weren't hungry, not anymore and certainly not for human food, but you were bored and there was obviously going to be a jukebox or an arcade game stashed in the corner somewhere. You had a few quarters to spare so you walked over. In the window, a sign read: "NIGHT Shift Staff Needed @ Hawkins Movie Drive-Thru"

You laughed at how much emphasis was put into the word 'Night'.

When you walked through the diner's doors, your appearance no doubt drew the attention of the few strangling locals sipping down iced cokes and eating cherry pie. You could smell everything in the diner. From the sugary sweet strawberry shakes being prepared behind the island to the musky leather of the Greaser sat in the back, devouring a meaty cheeseburger. It was overwhelming and a little strange. This was one of the reasons you tried to avoid humans. Unless it was Halloween. Then you loved being around oblivious mortals and their unexplainable fascination with the things that went bump in the night.

You grinned, finding subtle irony in the fact most of the people were judging you based on your proclivity for wearing leather, studs and biker boots, and not the fact you actually were one of those creatures that went bump in the night!

You ordered a vanilla shake as an excuse to seem like you belonged, walked over to the Jukebox and played Spooky Movies before moving onto the arcade game plugged into the wall in a dark corner.

While you wracked up quite the high score, your keen senses picked up a new scent. You turned to see who it was. A young man of average stature, impeccable hair and a swoon worthy smile walked in. His hair damp from the rain that you hadn't realised had begun to pour. He racked a hand through his long-ish hair and walked over to the counter with a goofy smile, shrugging off his soaked letterman jacket.

"I'll have the usual!" He smiled and placed a few coins on the counter. Something about him intrigued you. Maybe it was his smile, maybe it was the sound of his voice… or maybe you just found that face of his a little too dashing. You took a slow slurp of your shake, forgetting that you hated its hefty dairy consistency. Your nose crinkled and you made a disgusted sound from all the cold sugar sliding down your gullet. When you put your shake down, you laughed at your own silliness and noticed that the handsome boy from the other end of the island was looking at you with an interested gaze. Feeling a bit cheeky, you winked at him before turning back to your game, finally breaking the high score.

When you sauntered out of the diner like someone who had just slain a dragon, you made sure to give the handsome boy one more cheeky wink before giggling mischievously as you walked into the pouring rain -doing a little dance to the song that was now firmly stuck in your head. Your ears picked up the low chuckle of the boy from inside the diner.

Two Weeks Later

"Would you like butter or salted popcorn with your corndog?" you asked the movie-going dates in front of you. Your eyes drooping and voice lifeless from boredom. The two dates eyed you unpleasantly.

"N-no popcorn, just--" He looked around the confection booth, "A bag of gummy worms." He pulled out his wallet.

When they got their order, you heard his date whisper in his ear when she thought you were out of earshot, "Jeez, would it kill her to smile a little?" When she turned around to look at you, you turned on the cringiest grin you could manage to pull, your vampire fangs fully extended. She gasped in shock and then rolled her eyes, "Jesus, I'll never understand people who wear Halloween costumes before Halloween!"

You laughed. As more and more people parked their cars into the Drive-Thru, you began to fill space by eavesdropping on all the dates that seemed to be going poorly. Strictly for entertainment purposes, of course.

In a blue Cadillac, an older married couple sat silently, the tension between them almost palpable.

"I still can't believe you, Mark!" The wife whisper shouted with a livid expression. The man sighed, "I swear I didn't mean to do it. It just happened so quickly. I--"

The wide held up a single finger and took a slow breath.

"Ooh, an affair?" You guessed allowed.

"You knocked my Father out of his fishing boat!" The wife said with a serious face.

You placed your hand on your mouth to withhold your snort of laughter.

"I told you fishing wouldn't be a good idea, honey!" The husband protested.

"He can't swim!"

"Then why does he have a fishing boat?"

The couple folded their arms and stared at the screen right as a particularly gory scene played out.

You turned your gaze to another couple, younger and not as tense. The young blond sat in the front waved giddily at her troupe of spunky friends who were pretending not to be spying on her and her date. You could just about make out the smell of her lip-gloss: cherry-red.

"So," Her date spoke, his voice familiar. "When I asked you on a date, I didn't actually think I'd be taking all five of your friends out too." He laughed nervously.

"What?" She asked confused. Her date pointed at the throng of girls sat on a stack of hey. Her eyes went wide from embarrassment. "Yeah… Well, you can just pretend to not see them."

"Right..." He said sheepishly, looking at the group of girls staring at him and his date. "Easy."

"Awkward," you commented.

"So, what do you do?"

"I uh, work at Scoops Ahoy," he said.

"You work at the mall?" She asked while twirling a strand of hair. Her expression was visibly disappointed. "I don't get it. Aren't your parents like… rich or something?"

"My parents, yeah." He said flatly. After a beat of silence, he asked: "So… you're a senior?"

The blond nodded enthusiastically, "Soon to be Prom Queen with a 3.8GPA and bound for Penn State! What about you? Future plans?"

"I- Uh… I'm taking life as it comes." He said.

"Ooh, Little Miss Perfect does not like that answer," you giggled.

"So…you aren't in college, you work at the mall… What do you do with your free time?" She asked, not at all thrilled by any of her date’s answers so far.

"I babysit. Mostly."

"Babysit?"

"Oooh, she really didn't like that answer!" You rested your chin on your hands, watching with eager eyes unapologetically.

He nodded. He drummed his fingers against his steering wheel then he turned to his date, visibly claustrophobic and asked: "Want any snacks?" His date nodded a little too enthusiastically and he was all too happy to comply, he practically threw himself out of his car and jogged to the concession stand.

When the familiar boy got to the stand, his face lit up with recognition. A smirk on his lips. "Miss Midnight." He said absentmindedly.

You cocked your head to the side playfully, "I'll be honest, most people just ask for a coke and a box of goobers." You teased. He blushed.

"The high score, at the diner. It's you, isn't it?"

You leaned in close, "Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to keep."

"As what?"

"The town introvert and resident trouble maker," you smirked. "Trouble in paradise?" You wiggled your eyebrows to the sight of his date pouting with her arms folded around her chest.

He shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the next, "Yeah, you could say that. I think she's just having her first disappointing date." He said in a low voice.

"Hey, don't worry about Little Miss Perfect. Something tells me she'll get over it. Besides, if you asked me, you're the lucky one. She seems like the kinda girl who would draft up a twenty-year life plan after a successful first date!"

He found some comfort in your words, "I think you're right! I'm Harrington. Err, Steve. Steve Harrington's the full name and apparently, I can't stop making an ass of myself tonight." His words fumbled as his cheeks reddened. You found it cute.

"It's nice to finally put a name to the face, Harrington, Steve. The name's Y/N." You said smoothly.

Steve rubbed his neck shyly, "Right. I guess I’ll see you around." He began back towards his car.

"Hey, Harrington, Steve!" You shouted. He looked back with a curious expression. You tossed him two cans of Coke, one after another. He looked at you with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't wanna go back to your date empty handed, now do ya?" You gave him your signature wink. He smiled and jostled one can about.

"Thanks. I owe you."

"I'll hold you to that!" You teased, flashing you fangs without thinking about it. Steve halted for a moment but then decided that whatever it was he saw, it wasn't important.

You watched as Steve juggled the cans about until one clumsily fell out of his hands. He made sure to place that one under his arm, probably as a way to tell which one was most likely to fizz when opened.

"Took you long enough. What did you get?" She asked. Steve gave her an apologetic shrug as he manoeuvred into the car, somehow managing to mix up the cans.

He held out a can of Coke.

"Wrong can Harrington," You noted as you watched on.

His date looked at it unamused. "It's not even diet," she mumbled to herself. When she popped open the can, she was immediately met by angry fizz spraying all over her cashmere pullover. Steve's face went pale with horror, his mouth hanging low in a half moon shape as his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. His date let out a high pitched shriek in protest, and like the ancient art of yodelling, all five of her spying friends made the exact same noise in response. Steve had to pretend to cough so as to not let her find out he almost laughed.

***

Steve had turned into a regular aficionado of the cheesy slasher horror film and you guessed it wasn't by choice. He'd been spending more and more time with you. And the longer you were near him, the more you began to find his charm even more contagious. You liked being around him, you liked how he made you feel when he'd laugh or smile with you. If your heart wasn't dead you'd swear that on some days when he got close enough to you, or when his hand grazed your skin, it would threaten to start beating once more.

On this particular weekend (your favourite weekend since it was actually Halloween) Steve had used the excuse of babysitting as a reason to come by again -even though you both knew the monster film being screened wasn't intended for kids. You and Steve talked about nothing and everything, cracking jokes and being all handsy. To prying eyes, you most likely looked like a couple. In this instance, you were talking about what either of you did during the day.

"It's not like you're allergic to sunlight, Y/N!" Steve jabbed.

"Oh big deal Harrington, so I don't enjoy tanning and going to the beach," You replied. "It's not that uncommon for people to dislike Summer time!"

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes childishly before offering you some of his popcorn.

“No thanks, I’m not really hungry.” You lied.

"Okay, but think about it. I've never once, not once, seen--"

"Steve! Shhh!" Lucas placed his finger on his mouth, giving Steve a look. "We're trying to watch the movie!"

Steve rolled his eyes and threw a handful of popcorn at the group of kids. "Why don't you just go sit closer?" He asked with a shake of his head. He gave you an apologetic look, "Sorry, as soon as I mentioned the Drive-Thru, they all just tagged along. I had no say whatsoever even though they weren't invited!" He made sure to shout that last bit so they could all hear. Dustin turned around and gave him a big goofy smile and two appreciative thumbs up.

"But seriously, how long have we known each other?" Steve asked as he leaned on the hood of his car as though it were a La-Z-Boy. You eyed his frame from the corner of your eye, enjoying how laid back and open he was right now. Before you could answer, one of the kids he brought with whipped around.

You let out a dark rumble, "Hmmm… Let me think," you pursed your lips and placed a finger under your lower lip. You noticed Steve's eyes flicker towards them with a look of longing before they darted back to the screen, a flush of colour spreading along his nape. You smiled. "Films at this very sophisticated establishment screen for two weeks, and we officially met during the first week of the Great Slasher Marathon. So that makes it-" You mouthed out counting the days to sell your performance. "Ah, yes! Three weeks and two days." You said with a beaming smile.

"Careful, all that math might just overheat your brain," Steve teased, touching your forehead softly with a single digit. You looked up at his finger, paused and then jumped at him with playful chomping noises as you pretended to try and bite his hand away. His hand recoiled and he laughed at your quirkiness before he popped a peanut into his mouth.

"Right, what was I-- Yeah! Three weeks and two days and I've never once seen you out during the day!" He said.

"But Harrington, isn't it the very air of mystery that drew you to me?" You batted your eyelashes flirtatiously, turning your head to the side.

"Nah," he cradled his neck in his laced fingers, looking at the screen with a breezy look. "It was the free Coke's." You punched his side lightly and he grabbed both his sides dramatically.

"Ow!" He chuckled. His fingers brushing against your cold hands. "Are you cold? Your fingers are freezing." He asked with concern.

"A side effect of being immortal," you jested half-heartedly. Steve rose his brows at you. When the silence dragged for too long you smiled at him menacingly and dawned on the thickest, most stereotypical Dracula accent you could, "Muahahaha, foolish mortal. You have fallen into my trap! Now whimper before the immortal Countess Y/N! Or be banished to the concession stand, where thou shalt bring forth snacks for the little critters you hath taken on to babysit!" You pointed a straw like some ancient stave towards the group of kids Steve had dragged along with him.

"You are singlehandedly the second weirdest girl I've ever met, you know that?" He said in soft awe.

You blushed, "That better be a term of endearment, Harrington!" You scolded.

"Oh, believe me! It definitely is..." He looked into your eyes for an extended amount of time. The heat in his eyes and the soft opening of his mouth made your throat ache, and suddenly you were all too aware of just how much you hungered for Steve Harrington. And the hunger wasn't entirely related to the crunching of your empty stomach.

With more haste than you intended, you snapped your face away from Steve's and focused on the screen. Steve shifted subconsciously, suddenly going more rigid. You shook your head, your raven hair bouncing about, before clearing your throat. "How about I get those snacks."

"I can come with if you-"

"Stay and watch the movie. I'm pretty sure I've mastered the whole script of this one. Besides, I get an employee discount." You tried to put on your most winning smile to make sure Steve didn't feel like he was to blame for your weird behaviour. From the way his shoulders drooped at you turning him down, you weren't successful on that front.

You stood in line at the concession stand tapping your feet in exasperation. You were hungry but more than that you were antsy. Suddenly, a jock who was standing around with his drunk buddies made catcalls at you. His wolf whistle not at all subtle.

"Hello, Dolly!" He slurred, stumbling towards you -his breath holding the stale notes of cheap beer. You rolled your eyes. "Hey now, don't be like dat. Come on, sthmile for me..." He motioned to grab your ass when, out of the drunk jocks blindside, an arm grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around followed by the sound of a fist connecting to an open jaw.

"Get your hands off my girl!" Steve declared.

"Nobody shaid she was taken, man!" The jock protested. Then one of his friends scurried to try and tackle Steve, but your heightened senses picked up on this and you simply stuck your foot out to trip him. He crashed into the dusty ground, grazing his chin.

The boys looked at you with open mouths.

"Is this my cue to declare that ‘nobody touches my Harrington?’" You teased with a sly wink.

Steve shrugged, "That would be nice actually."

You took an instinctive step towards Steve, and he seemed to mirror your actions, but before you could reach him, another jock blindsided him and managed to tackle him.

As Steve wrestled with the musclier jock, you walked over to a group of bystanders who came to watch the commotion, grabbed a soda from one of them and marched over to the fight. You pulled the plastic lid off the paper cup and poured ice cold soda all over the jock -and Steve in the process. Both shrivelled from the cold touch of the ice and broke away from each other.

"Nobody touched my Harrington!" You said with serious eyes before helping Steve up.

When the crowd dissipated, you laced your fingers into his. "So… Is this the customary tradition one performs when asking a girl out?"

Steve squeezed your fingers, "Only if it worked."

"It did," you replied before closing the distance between you and kissing him passionately. Behind you, you heard the kids make kissy noises and the occasional 'Eeww'.

When your lips broke apart, the two of you laughed in glee as Steve wrapped his arms around you. As he walked you back to the car you couldn't help but notice the smell of blood on the ground where the jock scrapped his chin become more and more enticing. You swallowed hard, trying not to focus on Steve's neck pulsing with more vigour from the fight.

Midway through the movie, you noticed the drunk jock from before stumble into a dark corner behind the concession building. "I'll be right back," you told Steve, who was half asleep nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

***

When Steve had noticed you'd been gone for much longer than he anticipated, he got a little anxious. His hands kept fidgeting about, his mind racing back to the image of that asshole jock trying to grab your ass. When he couldn't talk himself down anymore, Steve went looking for you. After searching behind several cars and hey stacks, he finally found you, but he was not at all prepared for what he saw. You, standing over the drunk jock from before, fangs extend and bloody with a look of pure elation on your face. Steve's jaw all but fell to the ground as he flung his arms in the air in exasperation.

 ***

"Steve?" You asked, caught off guard and feeling the life drain from your body -a feeling that held more irony than you liked. You glanced down at the unconscious jock at your feet and then back to a nervous Steve. You noticed him pacing about, hands on his hips. The silence was killing you.

"Steve, I can explain-" you started, your eyes shining with sadness from the eventual panic and fear he'd undoubtedly have towards you now.

Steve held up his finger and wiggled it around, "You know, I've kept up with a lot. Demogorgon’s, demo-dogs, a kid with magic powers, literally almost getting eaten alive, but… but Vampires? Can't this stupid upside-down place cut me some slack?" He sounded like a grumpy old man who was addressing a group of annoying kids that would steal his newspaper every morning.

"Okay, I guess this is exactly what you think it is..." You walked towards him. He took a step back, pointing at the jock with crinkled eyebrows.

"Is he dead?"

"No. No! Of course not. I- I usually don't… He was just so drunk, and an asshole- besides, he won't remember anything tomorrow." Your voice came out shaky. “Are you mad at me?”

 Steve nodded his head repeatedly, "Okay. Good, good." He then kept quiet for a long minute. "My girlfriend is a vampire..." he whispered in bewilderment.

”A vampire?" He questioned the universe, looking up at the sky like it held the answers. "What else are you going to throw at me? Werewolves?"

"Did you say… girlfriend?" Your cheeks blushed.  

Steve looked at you as if you said something offensive, "That is what you take away from all this?"

You shrugged, "A girl's gotta have priorities."

Steve laughed nervously before he continued to pace, his mind in deep thought.

You wiped the blood off your lips with your sleeve, taking a slow step forward. This time Steve didn't recline away from you. You felt a glimmer of hope. "Steve, talk to me." You whispered. "Please," you pleaded.

He looked wounded by the way your voice quivered just then and instantly he strode over held you close. After two or three breaths, he let you go again.

"Is this… a permanent condition?" He asked.

"So far," you said playfully.

"Don't joke."

"Sorry," you bit your lips and rose your shoulders above your neck with a pout. You noticed a small smile try and force its way onto his face.

"And… is this," he waved in distaste at the passed out jock, "eating of people also a permanent thing? Because it may put a dampener on any future family dinners where you're the guest and we're the three-course meal."

You held back a laugh, "It doesn't have to be."

Steve let out a breath of air, "Aww, good because if you ate my Mom we'd have some serious baggage!"  

You looked at him in surprise, searching his eyes. "Are you not afraid of me? How are you so… okay with all this?"

"If I told you half of what I go through… Half! You'd understand why." He made a 'mind blown' gesture with his hands. "Besides, you're the only non-boring person in this town… And now it makes sense why."

"Does that mean we're okay?"

"That depends," Steve placed his hands on either side of yours. "Were you sent here to do some evil bidding by some nightmare monster that exists in a parallel dimension called the Upside-Down?"

You furrowed your brows, unsure if he was being serious or not. "No?"

He squinted his eyes at your uncertainty. You cleared your throat and spoke again, "I mean, no! Certainly not."

Steve wrapped his arms around you, relief in his voice, "Good because I don't want to ask Eleven to vanquish my new girlfriend."

He leaned in, about to kiss you when he remembered where your fangs had been a few minutes prior. He gave you an odd look, "Maybe we should make it a rule that we only kiss after a thorough brushing after your… meals."

You giggled into his chest, "Deal!"

As Steve walked you back to the car, arm placed protectively around you, you asked: "What's an Upside-Down?"

Steve just sighed and let out an annoyed moan, "Oh, don't get me started!"

***

Note: This fic just kept getting out of hand, it just kept growing longer and longer... I may do a sequel, but no promises. Enjoy and sorry for the wait!

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

Luke: Uncomfortable Beginnings IV

 “Did you kill them? Who are you and what are you trying to recruit me for? Us for,” Fēi Lín asked.

Luke knew he didn’t need to hide the answers to those questions, but his mind still raced. What if she asked about something else? Something about Kronos that he wasn’t willing to share?

         “I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t even heard of Jackie boy before today. Again, embarrassing considering that someone must have written about his healing, even if a wack journalist,” Phil said, putting his hands up in a surrender position. Either that or showing off the ligaments that he might be about to lose. “Though, if he only sings in choir or hospitals, they could have attributed it to God or doctors.”

         “Same,” Luke said, his mouth working before he could plan the words. “About not knowing Jack or his family. I don’t read wack journals. We’re recruiting you to help destroy the Olympic gods because I’m mad at my dad.”

         Hatred burned in Luke’s chest. He did not like disclosing that last part so casually to strangers. That made it sound so simple; it undermined what he wanted to do to the Olympians and the pain he went through. What Thalia had suffered.  

         “Smooth, kid,” Phil said.

         Fēi Lín tapped the driver wheel, glaring at the satyr. “And you? Why do you want to recruit me?”

         “Hey, I’m good at my job, lady, and I’m proud of dredging through your records. People that get in your way, they do things that they wouldn’t normally do to hurt themselves. Recruiting you will put a shiny spot on my record and I’ll get all the fuzzy feels about helping a kid, since I feel like you’ll do way better at Camp Othrys than Camp Half-Blood. And as to why I’m doing this job—do you think all satyrs like being Dionysus’ slaves?” Phil spat out the window. “I don’t even care if we win the coming war and I don’t really care about our boss. I just wanna be a thorn in that bastard’s toe.”

         Luke made a mental note about how Phil didn’t care if they won. That could be detrimental later.

         Fēi Lín tapped her steering wheel again. “Everybody out,” she said.

         Luke jumped out of the car. Phil was half a second behind him. Luke bit his lip. He wasn’t entirely sure if she’d forced him out of the car or if he’d hopped out on instinct.

         Jack slowly slid out of his seat, hugging himself.

         “Where are we?” Luke finally asked.

         “Somewhere you will act respectfully and ask a minimal number of questions,” Fēi Lín said. She jumped out of the car and flicked her keys around one finger, leading them towards a side door that looked more like an entrance to a scene from Scream.

         In a small town like this, Luke had an uncomfortable feeling that this girl would know exactly where to hide their bodies.

         “The Dǒng residence,” Phil said, “Kid, I know you’re dyslexic and all, but, uh, you can read the files that I slaved over making you, right? They’re in Greek.”

         Luke scowled. With the Kronos dreams at night, directing Cabin Eleven during the day, and then sneaking out during his off hours to set up Camp Othrys and gather an army, he thought he deserved some slack. He couldn’t exactly read files on potential campers at the pavilion with all the tiny Hermes hands hoping for some blackmail on each other. “You could also tell me about them on the way over here,” Luke spat back.

         Fēi Lín led them through the door and down a hallway that’s carpet might have been cleaner if it came from a dumpster. Lights flickered and water stains seeped down the once-white walls. Each door was a faded color, perhaps originally bright greens and reds. There was a piece of trash here and there and, to Luke’s disgust, a used condom.

         This really did look like somewhere she would strap them into a chair and start a very different kind of interrogation.

         She stopped at a bend in the hallway, in front of the single freshly painted red door.

         Jack perked up and rushed to stand beside her.

         Once Fēi Lín finished unlocking the door, Jack reached for the handle.

         She paused and examined him. Her stern expression broke. “Jack…” she said in the best we talked about this voice.

         Jack gave her the world’s weakest smile. He cleared his throat and his tears. “After you, Ms. Davidson,” he said, his voice shaking as he opened the door for her and gestured the three of them inside.

         Fēi Lín’s discolored cheeks lit up. It took Luke a moment to process that she was blushing and to realize Jack and Fēi Lín might not just be friends, or, at least Jack wanted them to be more.

         Fēi Lín briskly entered.

         Luke swallowed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t walking into some kind of trap. Not that she needed to trap him considering what she did to the cops.

         He could hear running water and music. The room was brightly lit, nothing like the terror he’d been expecting from the earlier hallway.

         Jack continued to hold the door and motioned them forward, that shaky smile probably the least encouraging thing Luke had seen.

         Phil walked in without hesitation. Luke followed and also made a mental note to talk to Phil about his willingness to walk into situations that had “death” written all over them.

         “Shoes off,” Fēi Lín said, already setting hers onto a floor matt beside the door. She slipped on some smiling bunny slippers. Not what Luke was expecting. “Zài jiā! Zǎo shang hǎo, Nǎinai,” she said, louder. “Jack hé wǒ de liǎng gè péngyǒu yě zài zhèlǐ.”[1]

         Phil frowned down at his hooves. He’d already kicked off his boots when he assaulted the cops. “Anyone got some plastic wrap that I can slap over these suckers?”

         Fēi Lín shot him a glare.

         Jack took off his neon orange converses and slipped on a pair of dragon slippers that must have been there for him. Luke followed Jack and Fēi Lín’s lead and put his shoes on the floor mat.

         The apartment was small and minimalist. There wasn’t a hint of clutter. On the right, there was a small kitchen with plants hanging and nesting in every open space. The windows beside the counter were open and showed off the apartment building’s modest garden. On the left, there was a table with four chairs and a small box TV that looked like it was from the 80’s.

         A massive framed mirror lined the left wall, reflecting the window’s view. A tiny fountain gurgled beside the doorway.

         There were two closed doorways in front of them, one Luke guessed was a bathroom and the other he assumed was a bedroom. Opera music came from under one of the doors.

         Fēi Lín walked to the door with the music and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her without a word to them.

         Walking into the apartment seemed to calm Jack. He stepped over to the kitchen and set a kettle on the stove. He hesitated, looking at Phil and Luke. “Um, do either of you want anything to drink? Flynn says that Mrs. Davidson, her grandma, doesn’t really like me drinking soda, since it’s bad for my voice, but…” Jack leaned forward a little bit, his weak grin becoming goofy. “I hide some Coke behind the extra trash bags in the cabinet if you’d like one. It’ll be our secret.”

         Phil snorted. “Jeeze kid, the Coca-Cola scandal. How did a goodie church boy like you end up with Ms. Pleather Pants? And coke for the kid. I’ll take a mug if you’re making a pot of tea.”

         Jack’s freckled face went bright red. For a split second, it was like nothing had happened to his family. “I—I don’t know. Flynn can have anyone she wants, and does when it suits her fancy.”

         Luke stomach twisted at the way Jack said it, though the younger guy didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. Something about that felt very wrong. Luke realized it would be dumb to point out how Fēi Lín’s facial scars might limit her partner choices, especially to someone sweet on her.

         One part stuck. “We could have been saying Flynn this whole time?” Luke asked, glaring at Phil.

         Phil shrugged, smirking. “I thought a little enculturation would be good for you.”

         Jack pulled two mugs down from a cabinet and withdrew two Cokes. He brought the Cokes over to the table. He motioned for them to sit down.

         Luke took a Coke from him and collapsed in a chair. Phil sat beside him.

This was proving to be a complicated day. Even though the drink was warm, it felt refreshing after how tense he’d been. Just having a break from Fēi Lín—Flynn?—was nice. How much time had they spent out though? He needed to make sure Mr. D wouldn’t get suspicious. The Stolls, two of his most promising campers, could only cause organized chaos to cover for him for so long.

         At least Jack would talk, even if he did seem a little absent. Luke imagined finding your family dead would do that to you. “So, you and Flynn?” he asked, unsure if they could uncover anything else about Jack’s family and nervous Flynn would storm out the moment he asked where she went.

         Jack’s blush grew redder. “Yea. Her family was new to town. Everyone around here knows each other, so—uh—she was cool. She saved me from a monster attack. She—she’s so awesome.” His eyes turned wistful as he glanced at the closed door.

         The kettle began to whistle. Jack robotically walked back to fill the two mugs. “She told me that I wasn’t broken in the head, that I really could help people. Like…” Jack brought the two mugs over. Again, he conspiratorially leaned closer to Phil and Luke as he set the cups down. “She said her grandmother hadn’t acknowledged anyone since Flynn moved in with her. Sometimes, after I sing for them, Mrs. Davidson will even smile at me.”

         Jack giggled in delight, grinning from ear to ear.

         “Uh—huh,” Phil said, glancing at Luke. “Kid, you can definitely heal people. I guess I’m just wondering… with Flynn’s record, I take it your parents didn’t like you spending time with her or her grandma?”

         It was Luke’s turn to kick Phil’s hoof. This guy had just lost his family. Luke remembered how unstable he was before he found Thalia, when he ran from his mother, and how quick he’d come to tear people down if they criticized Thalia’s clothing after they got close.

         Jack frowned. He sat down beside them, his posture rigid. He stared at his untouched bottle of Coke. “Aston told them the stupid rumors going around the school about her.”

         Phil leaned back. “Is that what you guys argued about last night?”

         Jack fiddled with the bottle. His eyes were so red-rimmed and sunken. “I…. I asked Flynn to prom yesterday, when I was carrying her books to her English class. She gets so mad when I fuss over her.” He cracked a small smile. “But, I like, asked-asked her, not just as a friend.”

Luke took another swig of his Coke. He had to wonder if Thalia would have hit him for asking her to a dance. He suspected she’d secretly be thrilled. He hoped, with everything they planned with Kronos, he’d get to find out one day.

         It sucked that Jack asked Flynn the night before his family died. Ways to bum out an occasion.

“I’d been planning how to ask her for weeks—I mean, I didn’t think she would actually say yes with how stupid she thinks that stuff is and—I mean—I’m just a junior,” Jack continued. His bashfulness died with the next comment. “Mom and Steve already don’t like me going out because of my condition, but the idea of me dating Flynn… especially since they don’t like her telling me I’m not crazy…” Jack’s hand shook as he peeled the label off the bottle. “They’re wrong about her.”

         For a moment, only the fountain gurgled.

         That was a motive for murder, but Luke still didn’t buy it.

         Jack set the bottle down, eyes wide. “B—but you can’t tell her that’s what we argued about. I don’t want her to think—”

         “Jack.”

         Jack’s lips pressed shut and he ducked his head down.

         Flynn stepped out of the room, giving them a critical look. There was a duffle bag over her shoulder. She walked over to Jack and held a hand out to him. “Mr. Sunny?” she asked.

         Jack exhaled in relief. He fumbled around in his pockets and withdrew a—a weekly pill organizer? Luke blinked. They’d named it?

         She snatched it and went to fumble in the cabinets. “This place you want to recruit us to, do they have access to Clozapine, Olanzapine, or Aripiprazole?”

         Phil snorted. “Those aren’t exactly interchangeable, but, yea, I can get them for you.” He scowled.

         Luke’s stomach took a sharper turn as he visualized the inside of his closet, where lights flickered and his mother’s scream tore into his hiding spot. The glow of her green eyes would still perforate through the cracks of the closet door.

         She took pills like that. They didn’t help his mother’s “condition.”

         Extra saliva had built up in Luke’s mouth. He swallowed it away. “Do you… see prophecies? Vision of the future” he asked carefully. He never wanted to be near someone that could do that again.

         Jack blinked, looking confused. “No. I see monsters,” he said.

         “And your parents had you medicated for that?” Phil asked, anger making his voice shake.

          “Well, yea. I see monsters,” Jack said.

         “Di Immortales,” Phil muttered. “This is why kids should never tell their parents anything.”

         Luke’s fingers began to shake around his Coke bottle. This was just like his mother. This is why the gods needed someone to put them in their place. “And your dad just let that happen? Let you think you’d lost your mind and didn’t claim you or send any help?”

         Like Hermes did to Luke and his mother.

When May Castellan did take pills and didn’t have a fit, she was practically brain-dead: lethargic, drooling, and dizzy. Luke tried not to picture Jack like that. He wondered how recently the guy had taken his medication.

         Jack stared at the table, the red-rims around his eyes growing more pronounced. “Steve was the one who drove me to the doctor. He said a boy my age shouldn’t be afraid of silly things like monsters.”

         That must have been his stepdad.

         “That’s not who he means,” Flynn said. She brought Jack’s pill box back over. Her duffle bag rattled with his extra pill bottles. “We can’t go back to Jack’s house and this is the first place the cops will look for him.”

         For the first time since Flynn had opened her mouth to talk that day, Luke felt back in control. He knew how to do this pitch and now he knew, for sure, that he wanted these two at camp. He’d have to talk to Kronos to make sure Flynn couldn’t usurp control, but Luke guessed that Kronos could easily read through her parlor trick. “The cops won’t find Jack or you with us. We’re small right now, but we’re expanding. There’s food and shelter. We’re working to take down the gods so this—” He gestured to Jack. “—doesn’t happen again.”

         Flynn nodded. She glanced around the small apartment. “I’ll need to come back once a week and bring Jack.” She stated it as a nonnegotiatiable fact.  

         Luke wasn’t used to demigods wanting to see their family. He, Annabeth, and Thalia had run away from neglect and abuse. If neither of Flynn nor Jack had run away yet, and Jack was this at-home with Flynn’s Nainai—whatever that was, grandmother?—then she must have been alright. Flynn and Jack would have to worry about private investigators and the cops early on, but he didn’t see why they couldn’t orchestrate their return. “We’ll make it work.”

         Flynn gripped the strap of her duffle bag so tightly, her knuckles turned white. “So, we join your squad to kill our godly parents. Do we need to wear jackets or something that’ll make us targets to monsters?” She glanced down at his bright orange sweatshirt.

         Luke wanted to punch Chiron in the face. “No. We work with monsters that are under a truce. You just need to swear loyalty to Kronos and forsake the Greek gods.”

         Jack’s lip trembled. “Swear loyalty to a false god to work with demons?”

         Luke wanted to laugh. That sounded like a pitch that Thalia would have signed up for in a heartbeat.

         “Technically he’s a Titan.” Phil blew on his tea. “And they don’t really like being called ‘demons.’”

         “If you’re swearing yourself to him, what happens to your soul after you die?” Jack asked.

         Luke opened his mouth. He paused and glanced at Phil.

         “Huh,” Phil said, “I mean, I turn into a daisy no matter how this shit goes down.”

         “You swore fealty to a deity without asking what it would do to your soul?” Flynn asked skeptically.

         “Once we take over, it’ll all be fine,” Luke said, shaking the thought off. He didn’t know why they were so worried. They were talking about vengeance: here and now. Sorting out the Underworld could come once they had disposed of Hades and his crew.

         Jack set his Cola down and hugged himself again. They would definitely need to come back to the whole religion thing later.

         Flynn stared at Luke.

         “Who do you think is my godly parent?” she asked slowly.

         “Oh, with the power in your voice and that physique?” Phil snorted and took a sip of his tea. “Definitely Aphrodite.”

         Jack glared at him.

         Luke had to agree.

On the wall, Luke had been trying not to look at a picture of a fifth grade girl. Although the distortion of features made it hard to tell, Luke was fairly certain that girl was a younger Flynn. Even at age ten, she looked beautiful and had facial features that would probably have matured to make her gorgeous.

It took Luke every ounce of self-control not to ask her if a hydra had spit acid in her face before she went to middle school.        

         Flynn frowned. She glanced back towards the door with the opera music, her expression blank and eyes hollow. “The goddess of sex and beauty, right?”

         “Yea. Love, beauty, pleasure,” Luke said, remembering how Silena scolded the boys and reminded them to leave the last one out when talking to younger campers.

         Flynn released a laugh, one that contained no mirth and had no smile. Luke felt like he’d missed out on a joke that he didn’t want to hear. His curiosity about her scars vanished.

         “Yea,” she said, “I’ll help you kill my mom.”

         The conviction in her voice made Luke grin.  He stood and held out a hand. “Let’s restart this. I’m Luke Castellan.”

         Flynn gripped his hand tight enough to make him wince. “Flynn Davidson.”

         Jack swallowed. Uncertainly, he stood. He started to reach his hand out, flinched, then fully extended it. Luke took it. Jack had a gentle, comforting handshake, especially when compared to Flynn’s. “Jack Flash.”

         Phil stood up and pinched his shirt like he was wearing overalls. “And I’m Phil: the trainer of fucking heroes.”

         Flynn scoffed and nodded to the exit. She made no indication of needing to say goodbye when she said, “Let’s get out of here and fuck up our parents.”

And, with that, Luke formed a partnership that would last their entire (very short) lives. He just didn’t realize how soon after things would start to go wrong.

 ***

Thank you for the read! I hope you enjoyed the introduction to Luke’s elite squad! Stay tuned next week for The Versatility of a Guitar String, where you get to see what happened at Camp Half-Blood when Percy was looking for the Master Bolt. Follow Luke and Jack as they go undercover to recruit more half-bloods and Phil gets to juggle a corpse—wait—Phil, that’s unsanitary. Please wear gloves!

  Footnote:

[1] I’m home! Good morning, grandmother. Jack is here, along with two of my friends.

[orionwhispers]

Devil Like Me (Part VII)

(A/N Hi loves! Here is Chapter 7 of Devil Like Me, thank you for all your lovely support and comments!It means the world to me, things are getting more intense and I hope you love it! See you all soon! P.S Hope you get some of my references in this lol xxx)

Then

January blues were a real thing. Christmas was over, and no amount of leftover hot chocolate and candy canes could revive the festive cheer. Cold licked your face and penetrated deep beneath your clothes, leaving you shivering from within. Your toes were numb despite your woolly socks and thick boots and you hopped on the icy pavement to try and create some friction.

Neon lights in the distance illuminated the dark as you clung tighter to your best friends arm. The smell of cider and cigarettes was nauseating as you strode towards the bar in the distance. This was a hotspot for local teenagers, only 20 minutes away from your house, hidden by the edge of the water and cradled behind pine trees. Because of this, the slimy owners served cheap wine and old lager and never checked I.D.

Jasmine gave you an excited smile as you both trudged up the path to the door and swung it open, the scent of sweat and bitter vodka instantly hitting you in the face. It was much warmer inside, a combination of the bodies pressed against each other and the dense 80’s carpets. You recognised many people from your class, mingling and playing pool, a few giving you acknowledging smiles as you hung up your jacket, feeling slightly out of place.

You approached the counter, grimacing as your fingers hit whatever sticky substance coated the woodwork. Jasmine had bounced off, swinging her arms around her latest fling Greg. You gave the elderly server a wan smile and ordered a diet coke despite his subtle attempts at getting you something heavier. You settled into a bar stool, grinning as a girl in your Chemistry class approached and started asking about your weekend.

Conversations mingled around the room in a haze of smoke, and the comforting echo of the vintage jukebox thumped lightly in your ears. You felt eyes on you and glanced around until you spotted him, James. Leant on one arm, dusting a pool cue and giving you a look that made you grimace. You turn away, determined to not let him bother you. A little while later you excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling your make up melting under the offensive lighting. You pass Jasmine and squeeze her shoulder as she gives you a joyful smile, sipping her warm beer and nestling her head into the crook of Greg’s neck.

The restrooms are a little way out, sandwiched between the back exit and the storage room. The toilets are just as outdated as the rest, offensive clashing colours and mismatched tiles. You peer at yourself in the smudged mirror, setting your face with another coat of powder and wiping stray mascara flakes from under your eyes. You add another lick of gloss onto your slightly chapped lips and wash your hands, unsure of what diseases you have most likely caught by now. You step back into the hallway, sending Aunt Jean a quick text to let her know your whereabouts before you smack into a body.

“Nice to see you here.”

“Hi, James.” You say, giving him a set smile as you try to move past him, but his heavy body blocks your way.

He shrugs his shoulders and reaches into the pocket of his denim jacket; pulling out a carton of cigarettes and placing one between his lips, “Let's step outside?”

You shake your head, motioning back to the party but his clammy hands reach for yours and tug you through the back exit. The night is still cold as you let out a puff of air, wanting whatever this little game is to be over. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and positions it by his mouth, flicking it open and lighting his smoke. You watch the flame flicker for a moment before he snaps it back shut. He pulls it from his lips and offers it to you with a smirk, “How awfully rude of me. You want one?”

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

He curls his lip and exhales, “Course you don’t.”

You ignore his comment and rub your hands together, fingers growing numb. “Is there a point to this James?”

He shrugs, tugging his jacket over his body and stares at you. “Can’t two friends just enjoy the night?”

You scoff, “Look, this was nice but-” You reach for the handle of the door before he uses his forearm to shut it again, you try to drag it but he holds it firmly in place. “For God’s sake James, I’m freezing.”

He cuts in front of you, back pressed against metal and takes a long puff, exhaling inches away from your face, dusting you in ash. You wrinkle your nose, disgusted at his actions and try to take off to around the front, but his hand's grip on your arm, nails scratching the pink skin.

“Get off me,” You start, hauling him away from you and trying to step back, but he follows, mimicking your actions. “What is your problem? Can you just leave me alone?” You wipe your head and try to dart at the opening his body has made, but he hoists you back, his mouth in a sly grin.

“We’re just playing! Just a bit of fun, don’t cry about it!” He laughs, mouth by your ear as you struggle against his heavy arms, almost gagging at his smell. “Hey, hey. Calm down. You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” He pulls back, brushing the hair out of your face and pulls the corners of his lips down into a mocking frown “Well, I guess you actually have.”

Without thinking, rage blinds you and you lurch forward, small hands making contact with his face. He hisses and drops you violently, running his hands over his features before pulling back and examining the blood your nail marks had left. “You fucking bitch.” He spits, darting towards you, his hands clambering over your body as you attempt to kick him off, exasperated snarls leaving your mouth. You both are tangled, his fists slam against your nose and you cry out, reaching for his hair and clawing at it with frustration. His hands go to cover your mouth and you bite down, hard. He yelps, darting back to his heels and hissing through his teeth.

His eyes are darker now as he steps over you, you clamber against the floor, hands numb against the ice as he lifts one foot and crashes it down on your ankle, making you scream like a wounded animal. Tears prick in your eyes as he raises his heel again, hovering it above your face. You squeal and flinch away, hitting him with all your might, before you cower back down, bracing for the impact. Instead, you hear the deafening, unmistakable thud of bones splitting. You wince and clamber onto your elbows, exhaling as you see James’ body, still like a mannequin, slumped by piles of garbage.

“Oh my God,” You moan as you see the familiar figure emerge from the shadows, wiping his hands of blood “Is he dead?”

He glances towards the body and shrugs, “Does it really matter?”

You frown at him as he holds his hands out to you, offering to pull you up. You ignore him completely and struggle to your feet, wincing as you take the weight off your painful ankle. You take a second to adjust before you realise how crazy the situation is.

“I had it handled.” You snap, unsure of where your confidence has come from, as you watch him hold his palms up defensively with a smirk.

“Oh, of course, love, from your position on the floor it looked like you were very much in control.”

You scowl and attempt to take a step, dizzying nausea from your blows causing you to stumble, his hands snake under your elbows holding you steady. Your head thumps uncontrollably as you lower it into the crook of his shoulder, steadying your breathing. He stills, focusing on your rapid heartbeat as you let out a grunt of pain. Something about him is calming you, making you feel safe and at ease, until realisation sets in.

“No,” you say pushing him off you, “This isn’t right.” He just watches you, grey eyes placid, tracking your every move. You run a hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself down. He takes a step forward and you instantly move back. “Don’t.”

“You’re bleeding.” He states, motioning to your nose, and you immediately cover it, wincing as the adrenaline wears down and you realise how much it hurts. You pull your hand back down, staring at the crimson stains covering your fingertips and a sudden thought comes to mind.

“Why aren’t you attacking me?”

He raises a brow, but you instantly slam him down. “I know what you are. You’re a vampire.” you spit the words out like they are venom, sour against your tongue.

He smirks, “I’m impressed.”

“It wasn’t exactly rocket science,” You quip “I’m surprised more people haven’t caught on.”

“Well, I have a few ways of keeping people silent.”

You take a step forward, gesturing to your wounded nose, “So this doesn't bother you then?” His eyes flicker to the blood unamused, before flitting back to you.

“It is tempting. But no.”

“God this is so fucked.”  You murmur watching as he lets out an amused snort at your language. “This isn’t funny,”

“Sorry love.”  

“Don’t call me that.” You snap, “Just because of-of.” You pause stumbling over your words, not wanting to let him know that the morning on the beach meant anything to you. “It doesn't mean anything, you’re still a monster. Everything you’ve done. You can’t come back from that.”

He nods, unaffected by your words “I never tried to.”

“Why are you here? Did you follow me here? Why did you help me?” You demand gesturing towards James, who groaned quietly before falling back into unconsciousness. “That night with- with Sarah, why didn’t you kill me too? Why did you let me leave?”

“Honestly?” He asks, stalking towards you slowly, studying your face as you inhale sharply “I don’t know. But something told me I would regret killing you.”

“Well thanks, I guess.”

“But what I want to know, is why you’re here now?Why you stayed up waiting for me every night, why you never ran when I approached you at the ball and the beach. Something tells me you don’t hate me as much as you pretend you do.”

You exhale a breath and straighten up so you are face to face with him, “You don’t know me as well as you think you do. I’m sick of people trying to undermine me.” You bite, glaring at the body in the corner. “Fine. I’m intrigued by you. But I will never, ever respect you or trust you. You are a terrible creature who has done terrible things. You don’t know me and you never will.”  Your outburst has your already sore head throbbing, and sharp pains blind you momentarily.

“Christ this hurts.” You moan, glancing up, but he’s already gone.

A few hours later and Aunt Jean and Jasmine are helping you clamber up the patio towards the house, both fussing over you madly.


“Guys I’m fine.” You laugh, stopping Jasmine from unbuttoning your jeans you as if you were a child.

“I should have been there,” she sighs, causing you to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her closer.

“It’s not your fault, plus you should have seen the shiner I gave that asshole.” You wink,

“I did! How did you manage that, you have the upper body strength of a chipmunk.”

You laugh and hit her, just as Aunt Jean comes in to change the bandage over your stitches and help you clamber into bed. Glad for the comfort of your duvet and all the familiar scents and sounds, helping you fall into a much-needed slumber.

Its just past one when you wake, gasping for water. The nurse had warned you that was a side effect of the antibiotics and you had stupidly forgotten to leave a glass beside your bed. You stomped down the stairs in your thick slippers, gliding into the dark kitchen and gulping down a cup of water. Grimacing as you catch your battered reflection in the saucepan left over from dinner.

Just as you are getting ready to head back into bed, an envelope slipped under the front door catches your eye. You must have missed it earlier and pick it up absentmindedly, tossing it over when you realise there's no address, just your name, written in cursive. You prise it open, confused, as your fingers slip over a scrap of coffee-coloured paper. Your breath catches in your throat as you see whats on it.

It’s a drawing of you, done entirely in pencil, thin perfect strokes capturing everything about your features. You've never seen anything like it. From the wisps of thin hairs framing your face to your eyes shining in determination and the blood dripping from your nose like war paint. It’s from tonight. There’s something written at the bottom and you scramble to read it,

“Thank you for your honesty - Klaus.”

Klaus.

Now

Klaus slumped in the armchair in the drawing room, fingers tracing absentmindedly over the ridge of his whisky glass. His eyes were focused on the fireplace in front of him, pupils darting over the rich orange and red flames. Your previous argument spinning around his head, making him dizzy. After he had spoken to you he immediately left the party to sulk alone, he gave no excuses or goodbyes. He couldn't give a fuck about the people downstairs. As much as he refused to admit it, he only cared about you.

God, you were infuriating. He took a violent swig of his drink, relishing the hot bitter taste as it hit the back of his throat. The past two years had been absolute hell,   and whilst he knew you wouldn't immediately fall back into his arms, he had hoped by now there would be some civility. He knew he was partly to blame, he had been angrier than he expected, and when he saw you again, all the feelings he had pushed away had come flooding back. The betrayal was the worst, that morning when he woke up in the bed you shared, only to realise he was alone. He spent months in a fit of uncontrollable rage, convinced you had been abducted by one of his various enemies, and scoured the ends of the earth for answers, killing everyone who stood in his way. It had always been in the back of his mind, but when Elijah pulled him away one day, his hands coated in blood with no solution, that he realised that maybe you had left willingly.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the start of a migraine brewing behind his eyes. After the realisation set in, he was determined to find you. Rage blinding all reason. He sent teams of hybrids to search the world, sending them everywhere you had possibly mentioned to him. One day in mid-Autumn he even drove back to your old hometown, boots trudging over the familiar beach he stood at the edge of the water and watched the sunrise, but this time, alone.

He fucking hated you. He rose to his feet suddenly, head pounding uncontrollably, as he lifted his whisky glass and flung it into the fire. It immediately shattered, the alcohol making the flames roar and spit, the logs splintering and spluttering onto the floor. He paced wildly, cursing under his breath, before settling back into the chair, head in hands, he knew he was being redundant.

He didn't hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all.

You threw a ball of paper at the wall, watching as it failed to bounce, and landed in a pile in the corner. You sighed, bored out of your mind.

Unsurprisingly, when you had woken up, you were confined back into the room you had grown to hate. Kol and Rebekah had visited in the morning, carrying a tray of slightly burnt pancakes and tried their best to cheer you up, although you were sure they were secretly bursting to ask about what had happened. One look at your swollen puffy eyes was sure to keep them from asking questions, so you sat curled in Rebekah’s arms, listening to all the adventures Kol had been on in the past two years, well before he was daggered. They both made excuses and left, Rebekah pulling you into her chest and Kol ruffling your hair, but refused to admit what exactly it was they were doing. You hadn't heard a peep from anyone all day and were left to your own devices.

A small crash woke you from your thoughts, you craned your neck and focused your ears. It was a mix of hushed voices you hadn’t heard before but you weren’t worried, many of Klaus’ minions were constantly coming and going. You flopped on the bed, flicking through a book you had read far too many times, and tried to tune out the noises downstairs. Until they were outside your bedroom.

“Bonnie! Do your witchy ju-ju and open it!”

“Damon, I’m trying, it’s not exactly simple.”

You frowned, grabbing the copper lamp to your left and holding it, ready to strike. Not that that would be much protection, it sounded like you were dealing with a witch. You hid beside the door, hoping that when it swung open you would have the element of surprise on your side, and waited, calming your breath. The door creaked slowly before it coughed and tore at the hinges. You leapt out of your hiding place, whacking the first person you saw with the lamp, baring your fangs.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell?”

Your eyes met a girl, dark skinned with black hair, glancing at you, trying to appear more confident. You gave her a confused look, why was she doing this? Before you stared down at the wounded man on the floor, he glared at you, holding his head and struggling to his feet. Immediately you recognised him, he was one of the men from the ball. You furrowed your brow, holding the lamp out for protection as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“You?” You questioned, eyes meeting his.

“Sorry, Princess.” He murmured, leaping onto you before you could react, hands clasping around your neck and twisting tight.

[muskyfictionmen]

Well I was thinking something like that time period whereJeremy was in that faze of hating all vampires and he was a hunter, it annoys both Damon and Stephen but they find out that his weakness is a hot musky guy, knowing this they decide to tease him until he worships their feet and musky bodies and they fuck him, I'd love if you made both Damon and Stephen very cocky about the situation while Jeremy tries his best to resist but ends up breaking and loving it

Slamming his laptop shut as the handle to his room jiggled,Jeremy reached over to unlock it- his frown he greeted everyone with in placeas he looked up at Elena. “I’m headed to the grill with Bonnie, Jenna’s ata friends, and we’d appreciate it if you’d lay low tonight and finish yourwork.” He explained, jerking on her shoes as she hopped from one foot to theother. If it was possible, Jeremy’s frown only intensified, and he slid backover to the center of his desk without a word. “Yeah, alright, whatever, justkeep your ass inside. All that extra time with Mr. Saltzman should be payingoff, I expect your History work to be done when I get home.” Before he couldopen his mouth to so much as think as arguing, she was gone- his door shut, andsoon enough he heard the front door follow.Clicking the lock in his door in place, and trying not to think too much abouthis afternoon with Alaric, he opened his laptop again- another night of almostuseless internet message board searching it was, then. He had his usual sites,he might’ve trolled through a few new ones if he felt like it. The caw of a crow outside of his window drew his attention, and once again, hefrowned- tilting his head curiously at the bird as it stilled and stared, beadylittle eyes boring into him, and he shifted uncomfortably, dimming his lightsand turning back to the bright white of his screen. Flashes of his afternoonwith Alaric flashed in front of his tired eyes, and he sighed- shifting back tofeel the pang of soreness in his ass and cheeks. Pushing out just barely tofeel the older mans cum leak from his hole. God, he’d fucked him so hard. AndJeremy had needed it. Needed a strong man to take care of him, even if just forhalf an hour. He’d spanked him first, because Jeremy had asked him to. Theleather of his belt stung, but it made his cock so hard- he’d leaked all overthe mans desk, and the floor, before he’d finally gotten a feel of his tongueagain. Alaric’s tongue was like magic, before his fingers were introduced, andthen the fat head of his cock. He wasn’t above average in either regard, girthor length, but he knew how to fuck. Riding Jeremy for all he was worth till hewas sobbing for the mans load in his hole. He’d been plugged up until an hour ago, when he’d planned to finger his sloppyhole and jerk off a dozen times, but then Elena had started flitting around thehouse, and the lock on their joined bathroom was shot, so he wasn’t going torisk it. Another flash of their afternoon together came to mind. Jeremy sweaty, hair inhis eyes as he rode Alaric- grinding his hole down on the mans cock, workingfor his second load of cum, when he’d seen that damn crow! That’s why it madehim so uncomfortable. It had watched him that afternoon just as fiercely ashe’d been watching him moments before. Turning back suddenly to see if he couldconfirm his suspicions, he was greeted not by the bird, but by a man leaningagainst his windowsill. Picking at his nails, and looking too bored for his owngood.Damon. Jeremy went red in the face, puffing up his chest almost comically as he madeto yell. To scream at him to get the fuck out of his room, his house, before astrong, sure hand came up from behind him and gripped his jaw hard enough tobruise. “I don’t think so.” Stefan hissed, meeting Damon’s eyes overJeremy’s shoulder as he leaned down to huff along his hairline. The soft shorthairs at the base of his neck tickling as he kissed down and around, pressinghis mouth right over the boys pulsing jugular, and chuckling as his heartramped up in speed, and….and Jeremy’s cock twitched, his leaking holefluttering, as Stefan scraped his teeth across his pulse point gently. Almostsoothingly, over and over.

“I’tsfunny how you think we can take you seriously with not one, not two, but three-count ‘em, three’ loads from your history teacher deep in that hole ofyours” Damon grinned, that sideways grin of his that made Jeremy’s skin crawl.For what reason he’d never admit. How he could speak so casually about sex,like it was funny, but still have that brightness in those icy eyes that meantbusiness, Jeremy would never know. Stefan couldn’t quite place it either. Buthe wasn’t really here for Damon. Not entirely. Mostly Jeremy.A little for Damon. They;d only just recently started being friendly again, andhe was ready to get back into the fun they used to have. Only now, with Jeremyin the middle. “Get out!” Jeremy hissed, twisting out of the hold Stefan had on his chin, andpushing back to be let go. Stefan went easily, drifting over quietly to standnext to Damon- pulling the curtains together as an afterthought, before heturned back, and smiled. The barest hint of fang peaking out over his lip.Jeremy tensed, not daring to lose his ground, but he wanted to step back. Torun. Or to beg. For something, anything. He hated feeling helpless,trapped. “We’re not here to kill you, idiot, I wouldn’t bring up your afternoonexcursions with little old Alaric if I planned to do that.” Damon drawled, andStefan lifted a hand. “ Us. We, I mean, we don’t plan to do that.” Heclarified, still too nice as Damon glared, and put a few less feet between heand Jeremy. “I saw you. Or rather, my little bird did. I watched you ride him, beg him forpain. He spanked your little ass so good, I bet the marks are still there.” IfJeremy didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Damon’s eyes flashed as hespoke, hands twitching as he lifted his nose and sniffed at the air. “Ican still smell his cum. Your dirty little holes filled with it.” He growled,twisting his ring on his finger impulsively as he continued to take baby stepstowards the boy. Jeremy barely registered Stefan in the background, gripping athis growing bulge, and nearly panting with excitement. His focus was solely onDamon. “I know how much of a little bitch you are, Jeremy. It’s funny how no one elsebut Alaric could see it. How much you need a man to put you in yourplace. ‘Another step. “To make you feel good, to punish you whenyou’ve been bad. What was it? You hadn’t finished your homework? Weak excuse.How about trying to find ways to hunt us, huh? Kill us? What kind of punishmentdoes that deserve?” He urged, now quiet, a mere few inches from Jeremy’s face.The younger of the two could feel the vampires breath ghost his cheeks as hespoke. Jeremy had gone numb, fear and arousal mixing together in his gut, andhe couldn’t help the way his cock curled up in his sleep pants. Hard andaching, and Damon reached out in the blink of an eye to grip it. Almost tootight, but it was just right for Jeremy- his mouth parting in a wheezed breath,as he stepped forward and ground into the others palm. Stefan grinned thistime, pulling his cock from the fly of his pants, shaking his monster in theair, scenting his own musk, before slowly beginning to stroke himself. “Tell me you want it.” Damon whispered, voice cutting through Jeremy’s thoughtlike the sharpest knife,drawing his attention only to the older man.Vampire. He wanted to think he was being compelled. Being forced. That what he wantedwasn’t really what he wanted, because how could he? How could he want this? Buthe had a vial of vervain in his pocket, and even if he didn’t, he knew Damonwouldn’t go so far. He knew as soon as he’d seen Jeremy getting fucked byAlaric that he’d want this. Needed it. Badly.And Jeremy wanted to cry because it was true. “Fuck yes.” Jeremy breathed, voice tight as he looked up into Damon’s eyesbetween his hair- still as Damon brushed his hair aside and leaned down to kisshim. Soft, almost tentative at first, but as soon as Jeremy opened his mouthfor him, begging for his tongue, Damon hissed, and dove in. Backing the boy uproughly against his desk as he slid his tongue against Jeremy’s, taking controlquickly, and scattering his desk clutter to the floor as he lifted him withease and slammed his sore ass down on the hard wood. Jeremy cried out, andDamon took the opportunity to nibble at his neck, cock hard enough to cutthrough his jeans at that point- Jeremy already sweating as he looked back atStefan, and what was left of his Iris was swallowed up by his pupils. Stefan’s cock was big. Bigger then Alaric’s, and bigger then what he could feelin Damon’s jeans. Ten inches, easy, as thick as a fucking can of coke, andleaking profusely into the vampires palm. Jeremy’s gaze was almost too much,Stefan feeling almost awkward, before he allowed the power of the situation totake over, and he smirked. Smacking his cock against his hand, and filling theroom with the sounds of it.Glancing over his shoulder, Damon huffed, lifting a brow as he pulled away andJeremy immediately went toward’s Stefan- eyes on his cock. “What do youthink you’re doing?” Damon laughed, pulling Jeremy in tight against his chest,and nodding at Stefan once, who left his cock alone to bob in the breeze, as hebegan to kick of his boots. “I heard you, you dirty slut.” Damon growled,right into his ear. “Begging Alaric to let you eat his ass. To rub hisfeet, think you even called him daddy at some point, didn’t you? Pathetic.” Hespat, before kissing him again, short and rough. “I love dirty little boyslike you. Wanting the taste and scent of a real man. Well me and Stefan arereal men, and lemme tell you, Stefan’s fucking smelly feet have been a problemsince we were human. Now I want you to get down on your knees, bitch, and beghim to taste his toes. Or better yet, to smell between them. I don’t think youshould be allowed to taste so soon.” He corrected himself, backing up, andwaiting as Jeremy slowly lowered to his knees, and then to his hands, crawlingover to Stefan who was nos leaned back on the younger boys bed. Feet crossed ontop of one another, and he wiggled his toes at him. The scent hitting Jeremyhard, and he wasn’t sure whether to gag, or to drool. It was intense. Strongerthan any of the socks he’d stolen from the locker room. Stronger than Alaric’sfeet after a hard day, in his room where the AC was shit. Stefan;s feet werefucking stinky, that was as best as he could put it. Even vile, but Jeremy wasa slut, just as he was being accused- he loved it. Something in him crying tobe able to lick and taste the funk of Stefan;s toes. Suck on the biggest onelike it was the monster cock above him. “Now beg him. And make it good, or maybe we’ll just let you smell them allnight.” Damon ordered, and Jeremy cleared his throat- hair falling in his faceas he looked up at Stefan. The pack of his Pajama pants torn down to expose hisplump, pale as as he did so. “I-I…please.” He started, voice breaking ashe shook his head. “Please let me taste your feet. Smell them. Stefan,I…fuck, dude your feet smell so bad.” He cried, pressing his face into theothers boots to try and sate his hunger. Stefan felt like roaring, he felt sopowerful. Slamming his feet into the back of Jeremy’s head, he rubbed the smellinto his hair, and down his neck. His face buried in Stefan’s boot. “Louder,bitch, I wanna really hear you. And mean it. Come on, Jeremy, I know you wantthem. Tell me how much.” He sounded so cocky, so on top of the world, he waseven turning Damon on.Damon who had taken to fingering Jeremy’s hole- nose sniffing along the lengthof his crack as the boy tensed and farted out globs of cum against Damon’sintrusion- the vampire then only scooping it back up and fingering it back in.Cleanisn his fingers with his mouth every now and then, when he couldn’t helphimself. Jeremy was whimpering now, hole clenching around Damon’s digits, the stretchnot enough, as he shouted. “I want your feet, Stefan! I’m a slut, and alli’m good for is pleasing you two! My cock is so hard thinking about your nastyfeet! Your boots are bad, but your feet are better! Please sir!’ Alaric likedthe word sir, and both Stefan and Damon paused. ‘ like that.” They said inunison, smiling at one another as Damon reached forward to tug at Jeremy’shair- lifting his face up, and pressing it into one of Stefan’s hot, sweatysoles. He thought about yelling at him to only sniff, but Damon held up a hand.Bringing it down in a hard smack against the boys ass, and he yelped- neveronce missing a beat, and going to town on Stefan’s toes. Licking all betweenthem, and sucking them each of all their smelly flavor. The sour tang of dirtyfeet was like heaven to Jeremy, and he couldn’t stop. But he did deserve to bespanked. He wiggled his ass back at Damon for more, who kindly obliged. Usinghis strength to create large red hand prints on the boys cheeks. They’d bruise,and sting for days to come. Maybe weeks. After ten, fifteen, then twenty swats, Damon finally massaged the boys cheeksgently- spreading him open and sliding his tongue deep into his hole, just asJeremy switched to Stefan’s other foot, and began the same worship as before.Stefan was already close, but he refused to cum until he could gag Jeremy onhis cock and shoot down his throat. Not a moment before. Damon’s own cock was out in the air now, and he was stripping it in varyingdegrees of strength and speeds. Edging himself as he sucked out the last ofAlaric’s salty cum from Jeremy’s boy hole. Spitting on it a few times, beforehe was scooting up to shove himself in in one go. It stung, he knew it had to-he was bigger then Alaric. Not Stefan big, but above average, that was forsure. Jeremy’s eyes pricked with tears as he let the burn wash over him, twitchinghis hole around the intrusion, before loosening up, and tugging on Damon’s cockexpertly with his muscles. Wanting to drain the vampire for everything he had.And Damon knew it. Baring his teeth as he picked up a brutal speed, fuckingJeremy like he was an actual toy. Nothing more than a hole for his cock, andright now, he wasn’t. Stefan watched, open mouthed, scenting the air. Tastingit. Damon’s sweaty nuts slapping and wafting their musk up and around the room.Jeremy’s little uncut cock leaking against his pajamas. Alaric’s cum on Damon’sbreath, he could even smell. But when the tang of Damon’s sweaty ass hit histongue, he grinned, Kicking Jeremy off of his feet carefully, and lifting hislegs up into the air. Hairy ass splitting and revealing his dark, dusky, shinyhole. Slick with sweat, and reeking of nothing but pure man ass. It didn’t takelong at all for Jeremy to focus back in, and dive in tongue first. Lickingbroad stripes up and down Stefan’s hairy crack, before focusing on drilling histongue deep into his smelly hole. The tang on his tongue enough to have hisballs tightening up, cock dangerously close to shooting without even beingtouched. “Such a good bitch for us, Jeremy. God, see what you could’ve been doing allthis time? Wasting away on your laptop, looking for ways to kill us. Should’vebeen thinking of ways you could’ve been pleasing us. Isn’t that right?” Hegrowled, both hands on the boys hips, and he pulled nearly all the way out eachtime, before slamming back in. Stefan’s cock so wet the sound of his strokingwas almost as loud as Damon’s fucking. And Jeremy was sloppy with Stefan’s ass’spit and sweat dribbling down his face, stinking up up good, as Damon nearedhis orgasm, and reached underneath Jeremy to tug his cock out. Twisting softly,carefully- swirling a finger around the head as he ground into hisprostate. ‘Cum for me, bitch. Clench that hole up tight around my cock soI can fill you with cum” Damon whispered, darkly sweet, as Jeremy screamed- hisorgasm ripped from him- Damon’s coming up fast, his cock jerking wildly inJeremy’s hole, pump after pump of hot cum filling his hole up, until it startedto leak out around Damon’s cock. Stefan, seeing an opportunity to finish withthem both, shoved his cock past Jeremy’s lips to shut him up- stroking the basequickly as Jeremy took to sucking him as soon as he got the taste for cockagain- Stefan thrusting as deep as he could get without killing the kid,cumming down his throat and filling his mouth with a shout of his own. Damon continued to fuck through his orgasm, going so far as to plant one of hisown smelly feet against the side of Jeremy’s face, smacking his ass for him totighten up as he pulled out- thinking about having him clean his cock with hismouth, but Stefan was breathing hard- Jeremy still nursing his soft cock- whichwas still a good six and a half inches, a nice mouthful for someone likeJeremy. Slapping his wet cock against the bright red cheeks in front of him, Damon letout a heavy sigh- wiping the sweat from his brow, as he slapped Stefan’s torso-smirking as he jumped, and pulling Jeremy up between the two of them.It was hot, and sweaty, and almost uncomfortable, but Jeremy was as spent as aman could be- drifting in and out of sleep, as Stefan tugged his clothes off,and pulled him into his chest. They were being too nice, and Jeremy knew they were going to leave. Use him andgo, which he’d be okay with, but he wouldn’t deny it would hurt just a little.No matter how much he still disliked them both. “We’re not going anywhere.Sleep. Maybe when you wake up you’ll be ready for round two.” Damon whispered,nothing but sweet as he brushed Jeremy’s hair back off his sweaty face, andkissed down his temple. “See if you can take my cock next. And get Damonto cum just from eating his ass. He loves that.” Stefan admitted, chuckling asJeremy whined, and tried to reach down for either of their cocks. “Go tosleep. Later. We have all the time in the world, remember?” Damon grinnedagainst his throat, contemplating it for only a second, before pulling backwhen Stefan frowned, and Jeremy finally slid under. “I wasn’t actually going to do it, calm down. You’re just as much of a bitch ashe is.” Damon huffed, and Stefan sighed. No one could ruin a mood like his brother. Or start one just as easily. 

[puckish-saint]

yooo glad to hear you're feelin' better and ready to accept requests again ^-^ So could I request how Sombra, Reaper, and Widowmaker would do if a young child was brought into Talon, either because they have exceptional combat or tech related skills Talon wants to exploit or they're being held there as a long term hostage to ensure someone's cooperation? Like how would they interact with the kid, if at all? (sorry if the asks a bit long ;-;)

An agent picks the child up fromkindergarten, but it’s Widowmaker who sits in the back of the car,a small handgun cradled in her hands that the girl eyes bothfrightened and awed.

“Do you work for my mama?” she asksas she fastens her seatbelt as if she’s being picked up by randommen in black suits every day. The words stranger danger evidentlymean nothing to her.

“It is more accurate to say that yourmother works for us.” Widowmaker says. At least now she will, sheadds silently. The agent lets the autopilot drive and while the carpulls out of the school’s parking lot together with half a dozen ofother parents with their children, he turns around and waves hisphone.

“Lets take a photo so your mommywon’t worry, alright?” he suggests and whatever else the childmay be, camera shy she is not. She makes faces at the camera, makesthe agent snap picture after picture, usually with Widowmakersomewhere in the background although at least once she sits on herlap and pretends to brush her hair.

“You could braid it,” the girl saysand Widowmaker, whose patience for people who are not targets or herhandlers runs low at the best of times, yanks her hair out of thechild’s grasp.

“I don’t want to braid it.” shesays and hopes that is the last of it.

Amélie and Gérard thought abouthaving kids but never acted on the impulse. Her career was tootime-consuming, his work too dangerous to make child rearing arealistic option. And though she used to make the occasionalappearance before young ballet students her contact with children hasbeen minimal. Thus she had no idea about young children’s lack oflong-term memory.

“You could braid it.” the child,Widowmaker doesn’t bother to memorise her name, says. It’s been alittle over two weeks and the times the girl suggested braiding herhair ranks in the dozen. It’s hard to believe she really doesn’tremember, but that’s how she asks, with the same enthusiasm as ifshe just figured out the potential of tying hair together inappealing patterns.

Once again she pulls her hair out ofreach and hopes the child’s lips wobbling won’t mean it will cryand make a scene.

“I already told you, I do not want tobraid it.”

As if she hasn’t heard the childcontinues, merrily ignoring her lunch that might keep her mouth shutfor a few minutes.

“It’d look really nice with bows init. Down here,” she holds the tips of her hair. “And here, here,here, here,-”“Yes, I get it.” Widowmaker glares at Reaperwho hasn’t laughed but is also very pointedly not laughing. Insteadof helping her deal with this persistent little menace he puts aglass of orange juice in front of the same and goes back to readingthrough the mission data for his next op. It’s his first contactwith the child, not living on base as she does, so he couldn’tpossibly know how annoying the little pest is. She’s supposed tostay in her room at all times, but instead of having her food broughtto her she gets to sit at the kitchen table and count the long longlist of hair accessories she owns.

“And a tie that has three bobbles onit, and another tie that has one big bobble on it, and a clip thatlooks like a fish.”

She stops to breathe and Reaper, thebastard, uses that pause to ask, innocent as can be: “Oh? Whatcolour is the fish?”

“Don’t encourage her.” Widowmakerhisses, but it’s too late, and for the next twenty minutes she hasto listen to the painfully dull conversation only a five year old canlead, about what colour her fish is and the many many differentcolours in which fishes come. Reaper nods and contributes to theconversation, because he gets to leave and kill things soon, whileshe’s stuck here, having to listen to this nonsense all day, everyday. Whatever project Talon needs that child’s mother for, sheprays it ends soon and they can all rid themselves of her.

While Reaper is off somewherereenacting slasher films, Widowmaker gets her first reprieve from thechild that insists on following her around wherever she goes.

“They called me in to work on the newsoftware,” Sombra says, patting the child on the head in a gestureas condescending as it is inattentive. “Heard you have a fan.”

“I’m the fan.” The child saysproudly and receives another pat for it. Widowmaker groans and wishesTalon had a job, any job for her to escape this little monster.

“You will not be so smug once she’sfollowed you around for an entire day wherever you go,” she saysand emphasises, with a glare at the child, “Wherever you go.”

All she gets for her efforts is a widesmile, but at least Sombra provides a little distraction and givesher the first time in weeks off to herself. She’s looking forwardto living up to her name again, to being called her name again,unlike the child who somehow figured out she used to be called Amélieand wouldn’t use anything else to address her. She’s not Amélie,especially not to a snotty brat who has more hairclips than brains.

Sombra, meanwhile, explains what Talonis all about.

“Can’t believe you don’t knowyet. They didn’t even make you take the entrance test?”

“What entrance test?”

While Sombra boots up the computersshe’ll be working on, an internal network not connected to thelarger one that practically runs the base, she lists all the things aprospective agent of a super secret organisation needs to do to provethey’re worthy of being accepted.

“Well, first they have to prove theycan find their way anywhere-”“I can do that.”

“Can you? Well, you’d have to beable to find, say, the officer’s lounge just by askingpeople.”Again the child she confirms that she’s able to dothat. Sombra hums thoughtfully.

“Well, next agents have to prove theyare strong. Someone your size must be able to carry something theweight of … say a sixpack of coke? I think there is some in theofficer’s lounge, but of course, you’d have to find your waythere, and then you might not even be able to lift it-”“I cando it! I’ll prove it, look!”

And off she goes, intent to prove thatshe has the makings of a Talon agent. Sombra sits down at herworkstation and kicks back, laughing at Widowmaker and the troublesshe had with the kid. Amateur.

A sixpack of coke, warm slippers andsilky brushed hair later, Sombra’s genuinely beginning tocontemplate getting Talon to expand into child labour. Nothingsinister or backbreaking, of course, she’s not a monster. But thelittle goblins make for good entertainment if one knows how tomanipulate them.

“... nine apathetic, sympathetic,diabetic old men on-” The kid gasps for air and Sombra shakes herhead and clicks her tongue, as if she’s disappointed and not on theverge of hysterical laughter.

“You’ll have to do better thanthat. A real secret agent can do the whole thing in a single breath.”she says and sends the child off into another attempt to pass hermade up test, allowing her to work quietly and with a steady supplyof soft drinks.

Gabe takes the child away from herhours later when he returns from his mission, undoubtedly to get herto fetch his own slippers. Maybe the newspaper. Could she teach hertricks if she got treats from somewhere?

She shouts the suggestion after Gabewho gives her the finger, probably in no small part because she keepscalling him Gabe.

She keeps working and doesn’t thinkmuch of the child until much later that night when she wanders intothe kitchen to find Widowmaker, enjoying her first yoghurt in weekswithout having to yank her hair back from curious fingers.

“Hey, you see the goblin?”

Sombra falls silent when Widowmakerholds up her finger and shakes her head.

“I just forgot about it, what reasoncould you possibly have to remind me of its existence?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I wanna see how much gross stuff Ican make it eat.”Widowmaker sighs and rubs her temples, wavingin the general direction of the door.

“The bosses foisted the thing onReaper last I knew. When he complains remind him he encouraged it.”

Sombra makes it her business to knowthings, it’s her trade, her passion, her overarching goal in lifeto know more than anyone else. That’s why she knows Reaper’s realname, and Amélie Lacroix’ birthday, and that Gérard Lacroix wasinfertile but never told his wife. She even has a copy of theadoption papers that were found in his desk after his death, halffilled out and hidden underneath case reports classifiedintelligence. She understands Widowmaker’s distaste for children,something she doesn’t share with the woman she used to be. And sheunderstands, or thought she understood, what Gabriel Reyes is allabout. A family lost or never had didn’t feature in the equation.If he wanted one or not, he’s lying in a bed half his size readinga silly story to help a young child fall asleep in a room that’snot hers, cared for by people who are not her family. Sombra watchesunseen as the child curls up closer against his side like it’s themost natural thing, like the monster seeping dark tendrils when hedoesn’t pay attention is supposed to be there.

“Is Mama fine?” The child asks whenGabriel pauses to turn the page. It must have been on her mind forsome time, but she wouldn’t have asked Widowmaker who’s annoyedwith her, or Sombra who messed with her. She waited for the ghosthaunting this place to come home and read her a bedtime story.

“She’s fine,” Gabriel says andnot even the hoarse rasp of his voice bothers her. “Her work isdangerous, but we’re looking out for her. And for you, so no badguys can get to you.”

Even Sombra almost believes they’renot the bad guys the child needs protecting from. She slips awayquietly, suddenly no longer interested in messing with the kid.Gabriel’s voice, picking up the story from where he left of,follows her long after its physical echo has faded.

[deviant-chant]

i saw you and wondered the chance of you becoming mine

Keith’s never been in love, but seeing Takashi Shirogane in the library among the stacks of books has Keith reconsidering what little he knows about the elusive emotion. It’s just that…Keith is Keith. He’s nothing special. Shiro on the other hand is their university’s golden boy with a bright future ahead of him. It would just seems a little too good to be true that Shiro would be interested in Keith, especially when he’s good friends with Dick Grayson, who’s gorgeous, clever, and alluring. Dick, however, has his eye on Jason Todd who inspires something unseen within him, something exciting and exhilarating. Either way, Keith just hopes Shiro wants him half as much as Keith does.

Two love stories; one experienced, another one only seen.

alternate reading here

Keith’s eyes were burning.

He’d crammed studying weeks of material into a night of productively that was all too common for him. Keith wasn’t a good student in a conventional sense; of course, he got his work done, passed his classes with the bare minimum of what he needed to achieve, and tried not to skip a class more than once a month. He might not be a shining example of the time smart and conscientious college student, but Keith didn’t rightly give a damn to be honest.

“Your face looks like it got run over by a fucking bulldozer, man.” Jason Todd teased as he came up besides Keith. He startled slightly, not having heard Jason’s approach, which was unacceptable and told Keith how out of it he really was.

Maybe pulling an all-nighter and chugging Monster energy drinks until his heart noticeably pounded inside the cavity of his chest hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had.

Keith didn’t spare his friend a look as he continued reading up on Microbiology and Macroeconomics—both classes he had exams in today. Keith’s books were piled high in a semi-circle around him, and in the middle, was his laptop, sticker bombed to high heaven with bands Keith unironically listened to and liked despite Jason’s distaste for Bring me the Horizon and My Chemical Romance. The only band they could actively agree on when sharing a car was Fall Out Boy, and Keith supposed that simple similarity in good music was how they remained friends.

His eyes had a manic, red rimmed look to them as he tried continuing with his studies, but it was an uphill battle that he was steady losing with each stinging blink.

Jason whistled lowly with sudden understanding and as much sympathy as a guy like him could give, which wasn’t much. It was widely known how much of an asshole Jason was.

It was a wonder how anyone, let alone Jason Todd, could remain completely sane while going to school full-time, working a part time job, and still manage to have social life on the weekends. Honestly, it was a complete wonder how they were friends. Even on good days, Keith could barely function enough to keep himself regularly fed on a diet of Coke Zero and chicken and shrimp flavored ramen noodles.

“Goddamn Keith, how long have you been at it?” Jason asked, sipping at his coffee.

Keith hated Jason for that short moment, at how well rested and refreshed his friend looked, while he on the other hand probably smelled like yesterday’s BO. His hair was also limp with grease, sticking up in every which way as Keith had pulled and tugged at the roots in frustration when a question wasn’t easily solvable as he would’ve liked.

Keith sighed, recognizing himself as a mess.

“Since nine last night,” Keith murmured. “I took a couple of breaks in between to get some Monsters and piss, but that was pretty much it.”

Jason winced.

“When’s your exam?”

That was a good fucking question.

Keith checked the right-hand corner of his laptop screen, brows rising with false surprise.

“Oh. In fifteen minutes. That’s just great.”

Jason snorted, shaking his head with fond disbelief.

“You gonna even make it? You honestly look like a zombie, and that’s without the stench.”

Keith made a face. He flipped Jason off as sniffed self-consciously at his red hoodie, finding it to be…okay. It wasn’t horrible or anything; no nose hairs were going to singe when he walked into a room. He’d shower and take a nap after the exam was finished. He had a five hour break in-between today’s classes and thanked the lord for small mercies.

“Let me at least walk you.”

Keith agreed and began packing up his things with a subdued finality, hoping that his all-nighter had been worth the crippling exhaustion—that he knew a little more than when he’d begun. Keith at least hoped he did.

While Keith and Jason walked through the stacks towards the exit, Keith’s eyes caught and lingered on a set of broad shoulders and a wide back, admiring the muscles that no doubt resided underneath that thick crème colored cable-knit sweater.

The weight of Keith’s eyes must have been a tangible, heavy thing because almost as quick as he caught sight of the man, those eyes were turning, shifting onto Keith with his unkempt hair and frumpy appearance, and the stranger studied him up and down indifferently before he smiled empathetically at the bags under Keith’s eyes.

His attention turned back towards the book he’d pulled from the shelf, flipping through the pages, paying close attention to whatever he needed to find as his hand smoothed slowly down the page.

It was a shame, really when those eyes left him. Keith had never seen someone as attractive as the man, and those eyes on him had made Keith feel a spark of interest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was both concerning and exciting, like being on a roller-coaster and feeling your safety belt give when you were upside down in a loop.

Keith could barely keep his curiosity contained as he elbowed Jason in the side, gesturing back towards the library with a lazy jerk of his head as if to seem completely aloof.

“Who was that guy?” Keith asked, trying to put a cool edge on the eagerness in his voice. “And why does he make that white streak in your hair look 10 times cooler?”

Keith snorted loudly when Jason had the gall to look legitimately offended.

“Oh, fuck you Keith.” Jason cursed, running a hand through his tuff of hair self-consciously. “At least I’m not rocking an 80’s mullet, loser.”

“Touché.”

***

Takashi Shirogane, Keith learned over the past few days, was the textbook definition of a star on the rise.

Honestly, it was kind of both amazing and sad at how Keith hadn’t heard of him despite Takashi being so integrated within the campus’s student life, but maybe that was the reason why. Keith had no interest in joining clubs or making friends.

Takashi obviously did not feel the same. He was an active participant in Student Government, the president of the Asian Student Association, and was the ace of the goddamn swim club.

He was everywhere and Keith was suddenly starting to notice.

“The whole school has a hard-on for him basically,” Jason said offhandedly as they were walking across campus towards the cafeteria. The wind was relentless, a biting chill that cut through Keith despite wearing layers upon layers and a thick wool scarf that covered the bottom half of his face.

Born and raised in Arizona, Keith didn’t fare too well with the cold. Keith ran on a permanent dial of hot it seemed. However, the Bachelor of Music program offered in Buffalo excelled anything that had been in Keith’s neck of the woods and moving, while daunting, had been a no brainer.

Even though Keith probably would never admit to it, the change in scenery had helped him a lot with his feelings of inferiority and self-doubt. They still lingered of course, but they weren’t as crippling as before in his small town.

Keith looked to his friend, wondering.

“So, does that mean you do too?” Keith asked, curious.

He knew Jason was openly bisexual, but had never seen his friend take an active interest in someone of the same sex. Keith often contemplated what kind of guy would make Jason Todd a blushing, stuttering mess, shattering that devil-may-care attitude. Keith would pay to see it.

Jason snorted and gave Keith a skeptical side-eye.

He was dressed in a red and white biker jacket, zipped up to his neck, and a dark gray beanie covered his studded ears. Jason didn’t seem to notice or care when random people passing by stared at him, used to the appraising looks. Keith got his fair share too—he knew he wasn’t a bad looking guy—but it always made him feel awkward and too-small for his body.

Keith had to resist the urge to give one his jackets to Jason in fear that he was going to freeze right down to his boots. He had to remember Jason was a New England native and was used to these brutal winters and dressed rather unwisely because of it.

Jason shook his head. “Nah, golden boy really isn’t my type.”

That threw Keith for a wide loop because Takashi Shirogane was attractive enough to shatter anyone’s “type” deviation.

Jason was just crazy.

Keith looked at the other man with narrowed eyes because that had to be utter bullshit. Keith wasn’t buying it. His gaze seemed to communicate that same sentiment and Jason threw his hands up in a defensive manner, eyes wide.

“What? It’s fucking true. He’s not my type.”

Keith threw his hands up too, but in an exasperated manner because this was it—he couldn’t be friends with Jason Todd anymore, it was final.

“How is he not your type?” Keith practically yelled, probably looking enraged by how the girl in front of them turned her head because of the outburst, then proceeded to quickly shift her attention to anything other than Keith’s passionate eyes.

Jason sputtered, tripping over his words as he tried coming up with an explanation that would satisfy Keith.

“Holy fuck, you gremlin. He’s just not,” Jason said, rubbing shyly at the back of his neck. “For one, he’s like…my size, maybe even bigger, and I’m just not into that. However, I can appreciate him on a purely aesthetic level, so I can understand your little school boy crush.” Jason teased with a shit-eating grin.

Keith scoffed at that wording—school boy crush—but he was fascinated enough with this sudden insight into Jason’s sexuality to ignore it.

He only knew Jason was into guys because of that one time, when they’d first met last year at a typical frat party and decided they were going to fuck, but then Keith had thrown his guts up all over Jason’s shoes and passed out right after in a heap on his floor. Keith had been lucky to find the one guy out of hundred that took care of him instead of making him into another tragic college statistic. He nursed Keith back into excruciating sober health and had even made him pancakes in the morning.

In Keith’s fucked way of making amends, he had even shamelessly offered his ass as a means of saying ‘thanks for not being a piece of shit, now he’s your reward’ without having to say any of that embarrassing spiel. Jason had politely declined the offer and they went about their day, finding that they meshed quite well as friends, and friends only.

Ever since then, Jason had only gone out with a few girls here and there, nothing serious. He didn’t talk much about what he liked and Keith was curious.

Currently, he was connecting the dots alarmingly fast, like a kid with a bright red crayon and a mission.

“So…” Keith drew out, deceptively light, thankful his scarf covered his self-satisfied smirk. “You like your boys smaller than you…” Keith deduced like a perverse wannabe Sherlock Holmes. “That tells me two things: you either like to completely dominate these guys or…” He left the implication to dangle in the air over Jason’s head like a carrot, watching the realization transform his face as the tips of his ears suddenly went red. “Or you like being dominated by them.”

Keith’s eyes indulgently took in Jason’s six foot two frame, bulky shoulders, wide chest, and narrow waist in a slow eye sweep and hoped in a pure platonic way that the latter was truly Jason’s preference.

Jason’s eyes went comically wide, hands coming up in half-aborted motions as if to cover himself from Keith’s prying eyes. He had a good laugh at Jason’s expense.

“You’re absolutely horrible,” Jason said weakly.

Keith shrugged without a care.

From there on they walked in companionable silence as Keith checked the time on his phone, along with his non-existent messages from his non-existent friends. Keith wasn’t paying attention as he neared the entrance and collided hard into a solid frame. Papers fluttered around their heads before several books tumbled onto the floor with a heavy crash.

Keith’s head shot up in mortification, uselessly trying to catch papers that fell right through his fingers.

“Shit,” Someone cursed. “This would be just my luck.”

“Oh shit, dude—fuck—I’m so sorry.” Keith said, crouching to pick up several Criminal Law textbooks and several papers that looked like complex, detailed essays. Some of the terminology Keith managed to spot was enough to make his head throb with on oncoming headache.

He looked at Jason out of the corner of his eye, wondering why his friend was just standing there and being completely useless. Jason would’ve at least helped a bit or would’ve called Keith an idiot or a klutz by now, but he was still as a steel pole on a windy day. It was odd, uncharacteristic behavior, but when Keith raised his head to hand several books back, Keith understood why Jason was utterly speechless.

The guy he’d bumped into was pretty, obnoxiously pretty, so pretty that it immediately pissed Keith off. His eyes were also distracting; a shade of too-blue that made his irises look like they were made with an intense kind of consideration, giving him an unnerving penetrating stare.

The man was dressed in a black turtle neck sweater and a deep navy blue pea-coat, looking like he’d just stepped out of a GQ photo shoot rather than attending class. He was sleek and lithe, delicate in a masculine way that inspired respect and attention.

Even though Keith had been the one to bump into him and was offering his things back, the man’s eyes had settled onto Jason and lingered before he shifted his attention onto Keith, which Keith saw took effort. Those eyes dimmed a bit when they turned onto him, but the man still kindly offered his thanks as he took the books and papers into the cradle of one of his arms and offered Keith his free hand to help him back onto his feet.

“Thanks, man. It’s no big, just be more careful next time.” The man said. Keith was sure that if it had been anyone else, he would’ve scoffed and rolled his eyes at the big brother tone that the man used, but it was honest and sincere and Keith couldn’t help the obedient nod of his head.

“Thank again,” He said to Keith kindly, but his eyes strayed to Jason when he said. “Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

“…Uh, yeah,” Keith said after a moment because Jason was still staring at him with this dazed, awed expression and it was embarrassing and awkward if the silence remained otherwise. With a subtle shove, Keith nudged Jason with his shoulder and only then did Jason nod his head, garbling out some abomination of a word that was a mix between cool and great.

The man laughed softly as if charmed by Jason’s nervous fumbling and the effect he obviously had on him. He bid Keith and Jason goodbye and strolled away with a noticeable pep in his step.

Keith’s lizard brain instinctively watched his hips subtly sway side to side and he whistled low enough for just Jason to hear. He turned expectant eyes onto Jason who was watching as well, except his eyes were lidded and his teeth dragged along his bottom lip with a low, appreciative sound.

“You wanted to know my type,” Jason began, voice noticeably breathy in quality. “There he just went. Goddamn.”

***

Keith didn’t see Takashi for two weeks after his first glimpse in the library.

There wasn’t a dire, all-encompassing need to see him, but the hope remained that Keith would somehow spot him from the corner of his eye and admire him from afar like everyone else probably did.

There was an eatery on campus that Keith was in the mood and had money for and walked the ten minutes to the stir fry joint that was nearly packed. Keith got his food and sat down at one of the few open tables that was slightly sticky, but Keith didn’t mind as he began to dig in, not having had breakfast before which consisted of anything he could find laying around; a granola bar, a bottle of orange juice, half a candy bar shoved down deep inside his backpack.

It was a decent meal for eight bucks—worth it, Keith thought.

Jason would be proud that he’d wasn’t chowing down on ramen noodles for a change.

Keith easily tuned out the chatty buzz of the restaurant with his own insistent thoughts about nothing and everything as he drifted on white noise. He tried not to feel self-conscious about eating alone as he noticed everyone else where in groups of two or more.

He checked his phone absentmindedly while he ate, re-reading the funny texts from Jason’s morning rage because he’d just been assigned a butt load of homework for the upcoming weekend and that interfered with plans apparently. After Jason ran out of his brand of colorful phrases, he’d reverted to using knife and fire emojis.

Keith wanted to feel bad for him. He really did, but it felt good to know Jason was like the rest of them—drowning in school work and deadlines.

“Hey man, I know this is kind of weird, but do you mind if we sit with you? We’ve kind of already met when you think about it.” An oddly familiar voice said.

Keith’s head jerked up, almost dropping his phone as he shortly fumbled with it. He felt his mouth gape as the pretty boy with the unnerving blue eyes that he’d run into a few days ago and Takashi Shirogane, of all fucking people, stared down at him expectantly, waiting for his response. Takashi stood some ways away from the table unlike his friend who sort of hovered over Keith, like he didn’t want to assume or put pressure onto Keith to say yes. A considerate guy.

Keith’s eyes darted quickly around the restaurant; the place had only gotten busier and Keith was sitting at one of the bigger tables that seated four.

“Uh,” His head swam for a response. “Y-yeah, no problem.”

As they sat down, Takashi right across from Keith, he hurriedly moved his items closer to him so they wouldn’t seem so big and obvious. He was suddenly self-conscious about this backpack, decked out in patches that he collected over the months that clearly showed his thoughts on several political matters, his love for 80’s movies like The Lost Boys and The Goonies, and his taste in music.

He caught Takashi staring and had the resist the urge to fidget.

“Rites of Spring are one of my favorite bands too,” Takashi said. “There was just something about the music back then that was just electrifying and inspiring—made you wanna go fight the government and set fire to corrupt institutions.” He softly brushed over one the patches on Keith’s backpack. He watched Takashi’s fingers, practically drooling over how beautiful and strong they were, at how delicate they touched Keith’s property. “I’ve never heard of this one through. They any good?” Takashi asked, brown eyes incredibly warm as he looked up at Keith and he felt himself being caught like a fish on a hook.

Keith couldn’t form words, not yet, so he nodded his head, swallowing down the huge lump in his throat and hoped the heat he suddenly felt wasn’t too visible on his face.

“Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners.” Takashi said as he collected a big, heaping bite on his fork. “I’m Takashi Shirogane, but everyone calls me Shiro.” He gestured towards his…friend, the pretty boy who had already began stuffing his face like he hadn’t eaten in years. “This is—”

“I’m Dick!” Pretty boy interrupted excitedly, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, I know. Please hold off on the jokes. I’ve heard them all.” Dick good-naturedly teased and Keith didn’t know what to say, so he relied on the first thing that came to mind.

“God, I at least hope your last name isn’t Johnson.”

He was horrified, but then Dick snorted loudly, the power of it rocking his shoulders and Shiro in turn, laughed with him.

“I know, right?” Dick said. “The name of my birth certificate is actually Richard John Grayson, though. My parents have a wickedly sick sense of humor and the nickname just took. I can’t get rid of it now.” He shrugged like there was nothing he could do; however, it didn’t sound like he wanted to do much.

“What about you?” Shiro nodded at Keith, taking a bite.

Oh. Right.

Having the brunt of his attention was highly distracting.

“Keith. Kogane.” Keith said. “I know. Very basic, dry first name and then that little bit of ethnic spice hits you with, Kogane.” Keith tried for a smile when he realized he was being weird about his name. “Uh, nice to meet you both.”

Shiro smiled at him and Dick offered the same sentiment through a mouthful of food.

“Don’t worry, it’s a nice name. Has a nice cadence to it,” Shiro told him and Keith blushed, averting his eyes.

“Thanks.” He mumbled out.

They lapsed into comfortable silence as they traded conversation for eating.

Keith was too aware of himself, of his movements no matter how big or small. He almost sighed in relief when his phone vibrated in his pocket; Jason wondering where he currently was so he could come hang out. Keith tried to keep a cool calmness about him as he practically vibrated in his skin because Jason was going to freak.

me: i’m @ the stir fry place up the street…you’re gonna shit your pants when i tell you who asked to sit with me

jason: who?

Keith slyly took a picture, taking care to make sure the flash and the shutter were off and sent the picture to Jason.

jason: HOLY SHIT

jason: HOW THE FUCK

jason: WHAT THE FUCK

jason: IM ON MY WAY.

jason: IM RUNNING.

jason: PEOPLE ARE GIVING ME LOOKS

Keith cleared his throat, trying to mask the laughter that wanted to rack his shoulders.

He tried not to watch the door in anticipation, but then Jason arrived an impressive five minutes later, looking wind blow and rugged in his motorcycle jacket, looking like he just come back from an afternoon ride. He raked a hand back through his hair, smoothing down over his undercut as his eyes roamed the restaurant. His eyes sparkled when he spotted Keith’s table and waved with a two-fingered salute, a gesture Keith returned half-assed.

Shiro and Dick noticed and curiously turned their heads. It was both amusing and interesting to watch the full body shutter the racked over Dick’s back at the sight of Jason practically strutting up towards their table. Keith and Shiro seemed practically non-existent in that moment.

Jason caught Dick’s eye and held it captive before shifting onto Shiro, sizing him up.

Shiro did the same, but with a bit more delicacy, taking in their obvious similarities and differences.

Keith grappled for what to say.

“Uh, this is Jason. Jason Todd.” Keith began. “He’s kind of an asshole, but he means well…” Keith’s mouth took on a wiry twist. “Usually.”

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Jason greeted charmingly, unfazed. He coolly fell back into the seat besides Keith, picking through the food that remained on his plate. He apparently found nothing worth scavenging as he pushed the plate back into Keith’s direction.

“Jason, this is Dick Grayson and Takashi Shirogane.”

“But Shiro’s more than fine,” Takashi softly reminded him. It seemed like it was more for Keith’s benefit than Jason’s as their eyes met and held. Keith’s heartbeat sped up because of what he saw in Shiro’s gaze, a look that made Keith’s face heat and his body tingle, and he startled when Jason interrupted the moment with an amused snort.

Keith’s head shifted quickly in his friend’s direction, frowning when he saw Jason looking indulgently between the both of them, gaze heavy with implication and meaning. Before Keith could ask him what he found so fucking amusing about the situation and potentially embarrass himself further, Jason’s eyes fell onto Dick’s, completely ignoring Keith and Shiro like they were mere place mats set for decoration.

The other man hadn’t taken his eyes off Jason yet and Keith shifted, feeling like he was intruding on something private because they both oozed a particular kind of sex appeal and when that came together, Keith was sure it would explode.

He wanted to be far away as possible when it did happen.

“I’m being forward here, so forgive me, but you’re not dating him, are you?” Jason asked Dick, gestured to Shiro who’s eyes went wide. Keith was sure his eyes went wider though.

“See, this is what I meant about him being an asshole,” Keith murmured.

Dick only laughed, tilting his head in careful consideration.

“No, Shiro and I aren’t dating, we’ve never dated.” Dick began slowly. “Actually, I’m not seeing anyone now. How lucky for you…” He pointed to Keith. “Are you dating him? Dating anyone?”

Jason bit his lip and shook his head. “Completely free.” Jason proudly announced as the corner of his mouth quirked. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

A throat cleared.

“Should we leave? We can leave.” Shiro said blandly. It sounded like he was used to this kind of occurrence, that he was often the third wheel when Dick caught the eye of someone who interested him.

Keith sighed like he was suffering and put his head into his hands.

Jason and Dick just ignored them.

“Yeah…” Shiro began skeptically, eyeing them back and forth. “I’ll catch you later Dick. It was nice meeting you Jason.”

“See you tomorrow, don’t do anything I would do.”

“Yeah, catch you later, swimfan.”

Shiro paused at the nickname, then chuckled as his eyes turned onto Keith expectantly.

“I don’t know if you drink coffee, but there’s this really nice bakery two blocks from here that has amazing cappuccinos and croissants.” Keith was still reeling from the sound of Shiro’s laugh to truly understand what Shiro was about to ask him. “My treat, you know, if you’re up for it. I’ll have you back home before dark.” Shiro joked, shyly scratching at the back of his neck.

It didn’t occur to Keith that he was technically being asked out on a date. The presumptuous idea that Shiro might be interested in him almost made Keith’s head combust right there on the spot.

It took effort keep his voice calm and cool, retaining that aloof nature he was known for.

“Oh. Yeah, that would be cool.”

“Alright then, it’s a date.”

[casfallsinlove]

when the light came through (r, 2.5k)

[ao3] for grace ❤️

They leave the bunker just as dawn begins to ease over the horizon, until the sky above the Kansas plains is smudged with pale rose-gold. A soft mist hangs low, catching on the bare, bristly grass poking through the thin smattering of snow. Castiel has seen many sunrises in his time, but he thinks this is the most beautiful. Perhaps because of where he's going, or who he's going there with.

The Impala purrs as they breeze along the highway, a quick burst of the rumble strip when Dean takes his eyes off the empty road for a second too long, and the radio murmuring quietly. Some talk show or shipping forecast or something--they just wanted the background noise, really.

Castiel feels at peace. With Lucifer locked up and the Angels back in Heaven, there's little to be at war with these days. Occasionally a haunting pings up on their radar, or Sam will call them with news of a suspected vamp nest or rampant werewolf that he and Eileen are too busy to handle, but things are mostly quiet. Settled. Comfortable.

Of course Dean and Castiel don't know how to deal with comfortable very well. So here they are, driving with no endgame in sight, just them and the car and the wide open road. Twin duffel bags sit on the backseat; Castiel’s has clothes spilling out of it where the zipper broke, the corner of a book getting bent out of shape. A plant is wedged against the door, fastened securely with the seat belt; a philodendron, one that Castiel bought for 75 cents from a stall at the side of the road because it was brown and dying. Dean had told him to throw it on the compost heap at the time but then the plant started growing again, its leaves getting greener and smoother as it stood proud in its little yellow pot.

“You're like the Doctor Doolittle of flowers,” Dean said one day, when he caught Castiel gently stroking the leaves.

Castiel replied, “I think it’s found some trace energy left in me, some small part of what I used to be. It's feeding from me.”

“Gross.” Dean had pulled a face, but his fingers were affectionate, playful at the back of Castiel’s neck.

He couldn't leave the plant behind.

Now, Dean’s humming something tuneless as he drives, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the wheel. He glances over, once, twice. The Colorado state line looms in the distance.

“You're sure about this, huh?” he asks, anxiety barely hidden just below the surface of him. It ripples there, faint blotches of purple-blue and gray bleeding into Dean’s usual bright gold and green. Castiel takes Dean’s hand, runs the pad of his thumb over the small mountain ridge of knuckles. The gray starts to fade.

“I'm sure,” he says.

Dean looks at him again. The corner of his mouth quirks.

“Okay then.” He squeezes Castiel’s fingers and puts his foot down on the accelerator a little heavier.

The Impala roars. The road whips past, endless and full of potential.

     “No fucking way.”

Castiel scowls. “Yes way.”

Dean scrutinizes him across the sticky tabletop, like he wants to call bullshit. His burger, poised in midair, is slowly dripping sauce down his wrist.

“You're telling me aliens are real.”

“Yes.” Castiel slurps his Coke from a bright green twisty straw. It fizzes, makes his nose burn. “I've met them.”

“Yeah, okay, Mulder,” Dean shakes his head, his burger back on its trajectory to his mouth. He takes a huge bite and adds with his mouth full, “Little green men in silver suits? Impossible.”

They've been having this argument since they crossed the border into Nevada and saw a sign at the side of the road telling them to watch out for low-flying UFOs. Now they're in an alien-themed diner and Dean's stubbornness is back in full-force.

“Dean, you've met vampires and angels and God Himself, and yet you refuse to admit that there's life out there other than what's on this earth? There is more to the universe than humans can possibly imagine or ever hope to see. There are planets out there which hold life, intelligent life, surviving just as humanity survives. I'm several millennia old, I've met more than one species of extraterrestrial.” He shrugs. “But if you think you're right, go ahead and think you're right.”

Dean flicks a ketchup-dipped fry at him. “You're such an asshole.”

It's nice, being with Dean like this. Not having to worry about one of their lives being under threat or the next big bad coming to destroy the world. They can just be. And what they are is wonderful. Dean is wonderful, glittering gold, like something precious, something to be treasured.

The paper placemat underneath Castiel’s plate has a press-out alien mask in it. When Dean goes to the bathroom Castiel pops it out and holds it up against his face. He steals one of Dean’s fries, putting it in his mouth so it sticks out like a cigar.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” he says in a funny voice when Dean sits back down.

Dean blinks at him then bursts out laughing, throwing his balled-up napkin at his head.

“Oh my god. You're so fuckin’ lucky I love you,” he grins.

Well. Okay then. Dean loves him.

Lucky indeed.

“I love you, too,” Castiel says, still in the stupid alien voice, and at this point they're making complete spectacles of themselves, being far too loud and boisterous for the quiet diner, their feet knocking under the table, but Dean is glowing, beaming, an entire spectrum of colors almost too vibrant to look at. Castiel wouldn't want to dull that for anything.

   They roll into Vegas not long after dusk has fallen. It's warmer here, the desert air dry and dusty and getting caught behind Castiel’s teeth. Lights flicker and splinter in his peripheral vision; amber and red, green and blue and harsh pinks. People are out on the streets, laughing and drinking and flagging down taxis. Night doesn't really seem to make a difference here. Castiel pulls at his shirt, restless, his knees pleading for a break from the car. Dean is yawning, jaw cracked wide.

They head west to avoid the snarl of traffic downtown and end up in Sun City. Dean says it's just so they can find a motel that actually has a vacancy, but he seems relieved to be away from the hustle and bustle. Everything is softer out here, quieter. The set of Dean’s shoulders is more at ease.

The El Camino is a shabby little motel wedged between a Fuel-and-Go and a Denny’s, making the parking lot smell like gasoline and greasy food. Castiel wrinkles his nose as he leaves Dean to get the bags and heads into the lobby, waving away a cloud of cigarette smoke from a man with a beer gut pressing quarters into the vending machine beside the door. Inside, Castiel asks for a king and a wifi pass so he can watch Netflix on Dean’s laptop. The woman behind the counter smiles habitually at him, purple plastic nails clacking on the formica as she slides his key over.

A waft of stale, cold air hits them when they shoulder into the room. Dean sighs and switches the heater on and after a few seconds of clunking protest it huffs to life with a whine and a rattle. Castiel stands by the door and watches Dean for a minute; the tired curve of his spine, the way he toes his boots off and stumbles a bit. He takes his neatly folded pajamas out of the duffel and puts them on the end of the bed then looks at Castiel. An easy grin spreads over his face when he realizes he’s being watched.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Castiel shrugs. A smile sneaks into his lips though and Dean laughs. As he passes to get to the bathroom he brushes the back of his hand over Castiel’s stomach, his fingertips catching lightly on a belt loop, a soft and intimate gesture that leaves Castiel feeling warm all over.

While Dean’s showering he gets changed and climbs into bed. The blankets are scratchy on his arms but he's cold enough that he doesn't care. Dean's laptop sits on his stomach, its cable trailing across the brown, threadbare carpet to the outlet, the plastic casing of which is cracked in one corner and yellowed with age.

Navigating to their shared Netflix profile is easier now than it used to be--practically second nature. They're slowly working their way through several series together; most recently, Parks and Recreation. He pulls up the next episode and then clicks over to his emails while he waits for Dean.

Nothing from Sam, but there is a brief reply from Mary in response to a query Castiel had about the Baku, a monster of dream manipulation that she had mentioned once encountering. Castiel would like to plug all gaps in his knowledge to assist Dean as best as possible now that he's human, or as good as.

He’s typing a reply of thanks and best wishes when Dean appears beside him, freshly showered and in his pajamas, his skin slightly flushed and damp still, his hair towel-dried ruffled.

“What are we watching?” he asks, bouncing down on the bed and jostling Castiel. Rolling his eyes, Castiel presses send and switches tabs back to Netflix.

“Nothing yet, I was waiting for you.”

Dean narrows his eyes at the laptop. “Wait, was that Mom? What were you talking about?”

It's so easy to tease Dean that Castiel can't resist doing so, just a little. “That's for me to know.”

“Ugh, that's not worrying at all,” Dean says, but he actually sounds rather fond. Of Mary’s attempt at conquering modern forms of communication, maybe, or possibly the fact that two of the people he loves most get on so well. That last thought makes Castiel heart swell in his chest.

They burrow in together to watch Parks and Recreation, Dean’s head on Castiel’s chest. His laughter echoes in the space behind Castiel’s ribs, a fierce, lovely thing.

 It’s the early hours of the morning when Castiel stirs. He’s not sure what disturbed him; the blare of a big rig’s horn, or the tipsy giggles of some women outside on the breezeway, or maybe just an instinctive awareness that being awake would be a good thing right now.

He rolls over and into Dean, who grunts and mumbles, “You ‘kay?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, and kisses him.

Dean’s slow, sleepy, but gradually comes to live under Castiel’s touch. The kisses get deeper and more urgent, laced with a faint hint of peppermint toothpaste. Dean shivers when Castiel places his palm on his chest, warm through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, and rolls onto his back, bringing Castiel with him. Soft ultramarine light from the buzzing neon sign outside creeps around the gap in the curtains, highlighting the lines and ridges of Dean’s profile, illuminating a path for Castiel’s lips to follow.

Hands grip his waist tightly, cling there for a moment then slip underneath Castiel’s shirt and skim up and down his sides. Dean’s hands are steady and sure, capable of great destruction but also incredible gentleness. It’s the latter with which he touches Castiel, his fingertips alone making heat pool in Castiel’s gut.

A quiet moan escapes Dean when their cocks brush through their pants so Castiel rocks lazily into a rhythm that leaves them breathless and shaking. Dean’s thighs are trembling either side of Castiel’s waist so he runs his hand down Dean’s arm and threads their fingers together, squeezing, pressing them into the lumpy mattress.

He doesn’t let them go, even as the headboard starts smacking the wall, and their kisses become little more than their mouths sloppily meeting in between gasps, and when Dean comes it’s with a choked mantra of “Cas, Cas, Cas” followed by every muscle in his body contracting, before he goes boneless with a long, contented sigh.

Castiel can feel the wetness, even through two thin layers, and it’s more than enough to tip him over the edge into headless, blissful oblivion. Starbursts explode behind his eyes as he groans into the damp skin at Dean’s shoulder, a hand curled around the back of Castiel’s neck and scratching at the sweaty hair there sending aftershocks of tingling pleasure up his spine.

“I love you,” he tells Dean, like it’s a fundamental truth of the universe, the thing that keeps the stars in the sky and the ocean tides anchored to the moon.

Dean lets out a sob, fractured, bone-tired, and holds Castiel close.

  The end of the line turns out to be San Diego.

Sand tickles Castiel’s bare feet, warm on his soles and gritty between his toes. As an angel he saw oceans being created, beaches unfurling from crystalline waters, plants blossoming and creatures evolving, but in retrospect everything pales in comparison to this: walking down a beach in South California, hand-in-hand with Dean Winchester while the sun sets ahead of them.

The sky is awash with pastels, the sand golden and the water a deep green-blue. Few people are around and those that are don’t pay Dean and Castiel any attention. Which is just as well, as Dean has decided to talk about the time he and Sam hunted a banshee in Florida at the top of his voice, eyes alight and free hand gesturing wildly as he tells Castiel about Sam falling into a swamp and screaming about alligators.

A shiver trickles its way down Castiel’s body; it’s cool out, a cold wind blowing in off the water and whipping at their hair. He presses closer to Dean’s side.

He squeezes Dean’s hand, smiles because Dean’s grin is infectious, pauses to kiss him, sugar-sweet from the ice cream they ate while huddled in hoodies back on the pier. Dean’s arm comes around Castiel’s back, trapping him there. He hums happily into the kiss, then breaks it to rest his forehead against Castiel’s.

“I never thought I’d get to have this,” he whispers, a secret just for them. “I gave up hoping. Every time I reached for it, it just seemed to get further away.”

“I know,” Castiel says, because he does, because it seemed impossible to him too.

“But now--God, me and you, Cas. I feel so…” Dean shakes his head, apparently unable to complete that sentence.

Castiel kisses the bolt of Dean’s jaw. “Yes,” he agrees, because the words won’t come to him either.

The sun continues to fade. Twilight inches in around the edges, painting the water a glossy bruise-black. Castiel doesn’t pay it heed. Dean exudes warmth, happiness, unwavering affection; the sun at the center of Castiel’s universe.

Who knows where they’ll go next. The entire country is spread out before them, theirs for the taking. As long as they’re together, Castiel doesn’t care.