#so that she could do things like fall asleep in bars and make jello and chase monsters with him again

[carefulfears]

It’s crazy to say Scully wouldn’t be obsessed with Mulder in IWTB when he was at his lowest point, she was probably even more obsessed with him by this time because he was borderline suicidal.

i just think about like...the heartbroken look on her face, in that first scene, when he says he doesn't want to go help. and she tells him that she worries about him in so much "isolation," and then she walks out and shuts the door, leaves him in there alone. as much as i hate iwtb, it really is a great exploration of this thing scully does, where she does want to keep him shut in that house. but, also, no, she doesn't. it's the consistency of the gate outside: every morning and every afternoon. pulling her car up, getting out, opening the gate. pulling her car up, getting out, shutting it. she worries about him in an isolation that she's trusting to keep him safe, and that's hard. for as much as she maybe wanted to get out of the car, to hide him away somewhere, it isn't helping. it doesn't feel like he's okay, just because he's there with her. and scully really struggles with perceived failure, especially in an inability to protect people. at that point, she can't save this little boy at the hospital. she couldn't save their son, not in the way that she feels she should have been able to. and she can't protect mulder, whether he's in the house or out.

later, when they can't find him, it feels different, than it had before. she is so inconsolable and frantic. he used to run off and ditch her and jump on trains and hang out with bombs all the time. but that was a different life ago, and a long time ago. when skinner comes to get her, he can't calm her down. and what skinner says is true, mulder must be fine, because he'd climbed out of the car. but they haven't been separated for a moment in 6 years. she hasn't not known where he is, in 6 years. like a lot of things in scully's life, it's what she wanted, in theory. but it doesn't work out, quite right. so she is obsessive, because she's scared.

[reidsnose]

Nose Taps (spencer reid x reader)

overview: the newest member of the bau develops a cute secret language with the resident genius

genre: fluff

a/n: this is my first fic so my apologies if its bad lol i tried. also its very short sorry ! but yeah lmk if u like it :)

masterlist

From the first day you walked through the doors of the BAU, you were incredibly charming in a unique way. You knew exactly how to talk to everyone, an amazing intuition letting you know just what to do. Spencer's curiosity had fallen on you; he was absolutely enthralled by your entire being.

the first thing that caught his attention was when you hand had accidentally grazed his.

it was a small meaningless gesture as you slipped past him, but he thought about it for weeks afterwards, in a good way. he thought about your smile as you apologized for "bumping into him". he missed the tingles that shot up his arm where your skin met his.

the second thing was much larger, he began to notice your kindness.

on only your second day in the office you stayed late to help hotch with paperwork so he could get home to jack faster. it was not a selfish act to get on his good side, rather an act of complete and utter kindness.

you brought JJ cheetos when she was feeling down because you saw her munching on them on the jet once.

you even got morgan to talk about his feelings for 4 hours one night after something was clearly bothering him. and morgan never talks about his feelings.

though you had just recently met them, you showed them how sweet you were without even trying. and Spencer Reid was no exception.

you stayed attentive to everyone who spoke to you, and when you noticed that people would often interrupt him or brush him off, it didn't sit right with you. after talking to him about it, the two of you developed a system. every time he didn't get to finish his thought, you would tap your nose to show him you noticed and wanted to hear about it later. then, at the end of the day, either in the hotel or on the jet, you would tally up the number of nose taps and he would get to ramble about all of it to you. it wasnt intentionally a secret but it was kept between you two, your little thing.

spencer thought it was the most endearing and kind thing anyone had done for him.

and you ate up every second of it, watching his eyes grow wide and then crinkle at the corners when he grew giddy about a certain statistic or historical story. you didn't understand how anyone could not want to listen to him.

soon, however, the nose taps evolved into something more. a whole little language grew between the two of you.

one nose tap from either party meant "im listening".

two nose taps meant "i have to tell you something".

three meant "i have to tell you asap".

an eyebrow tap meant "this reminded me of you" or "im thinking about you".

so on and so forth.

the team picked up on this little code between the two of you, but couldn't for the life of them understand what it all meant or when it had started. to be fair, they didn't have much time to decode while on cases.

to Spencer, this secret language was his most treasured peice of knowledge. And to you, it was your most treasured secret. and to both, unforgettable.

though Spencer had noticed your striking beauty when he first laid eyes on you, spending tome with you only intensified it. he found himself often marveling at the little details, especially on the jet.

the way your hair fell on your shoulders, the angle of your eyelashes, the blush that graced your cheeks when you laughed, the way you chew on your lip when you're thinking, even the barely noticeable wrinkles you have in your forehead from raising your eyebrows all the time. he was falling helplessly in love with every bit of you.

you did that same to him. admiring the itty bitty bump on the bridge of his nose right above the perfect little button tip, the curls in his hair, the way he puckered up a little as he talked, the way his whole face would crinkle up when he laughed really hard, his eyes squinting so hard they were barely visible. you were falling helplessly in love with every bit of him.

the team had OBVIOUSLY picked up on this, and though they would tease the both of you in private, they didn't dare embarrass you in front of each other. they weren't that sadistic. or so you thought.

one evening at rossis the team decided to have a powerpoint night. everyone chose a funny topic to make a power point and present about.

jj went first, presenting the slideshow titled "ways my clashing aesthetics present themselves through my sons"

next went morgan: "reasons i should be allowed to not wear a shirt under my bullet proof vest".

followed by Rossi who did "list of the fakest Italians weve ever encountered (they cant even pronounce gnocchi)"

after him was prentiss with "things i did while pretending to be dead"

and then hotch who made "ranking the bau from most to least childish"

then you went with "animals i think all of you resemble"

followed by reid who did "top 5 worst hospitals based on jello rating"

and last but not least, garcia. she went with "agents i think should just get married already we are literally not getting any younger"

you all laughed until the slide moved and there was a picture of Spencer and you, asleep on each other on the jet. his arm was wrapped around you protectively as you were cuddled up to his chest. you looked over at spencer who was matching your bright red face.

"y/n and spencer." garcia spoke before clicking to the next slide.

"wow she just cut right to the chase huh," prentiss laughed.

more images that the team had sneakily taken of the two of you riddled the screen.

one of you braiding his hair. one of him wiping frosting on your face from your birthday. on of the two of you mid laugh, mirroring each other exactly. a few more of you two on the jet, on cases, or even out at bars or at rossis with the rest of the team. so many of them and as much as you were embarrassed, you really loved all of those pictures.

"i really dont think i need to explain much, these speak for themselves," garcia chirped.

"i like that one," reid spoke up, pointing to the braiding one. ok so were going about that like this.

"i was just about to say that, but this ones also a close contender," you replied pointing to the frosting one.

"and that my friends, concludes my slide show!" garcia laughed.

"wait seriously? just us?" you laughed.

"yea.." she started, a giddy smile decorating her face. you looked over at Spencer and tapped your nose twice. he did it back but three times, cracking a cheesy grin. "see! and they have their little secret nose code thing! is that not relationship material?"

"you guys noticed?" spencer asked, clearly oblivious.

"duh." rossi joked.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

Congratulations on almost 1.6k!!!

If it sparks any inspiration, I'd like to request: 💃 + "Loud, so everyone can hear" from the first list for Buddie <3

HI THIS IS LATE BUT ILY THANK YOU ENJOY THESE ABSOLUTE IDIOTS

(also on ao3)

The club is loud, so loud it feels like the bass pumping through the floor could rattle the teeth right out of Buck’s mouth. He swivels his head around, thankful for his height as he tries to find familiar faces in a sea of dancing bodies.

They’re in the far corner in a roped off section, with a printed out sign and everything: The Spouses of the 118 Club.

(“That’s what you’re calling this? I’m a spouse of the 118 too you know,” Buck says, absolutely not pouting about it.

Maddie shrugs from the passenger seat of Athena’s car. “Spouses and Non Blood Relatives of the 118 then.”

Karen leans in from the back seat and honks the horn. “Let’s go Diaz!”

“I’m coming!” Eddie shouts as he walks through the front door and down to the driveway. He stops next to Buck, using his shoulder for balance as he slips his shoe the rest of the way on. “We can switch off,” he says quietly. “You can go next month.” He straightens up and smiles brightly at Buck, kissing his cheek before getting into the backseat. Maddie hands a flask back to him and blows a kiss out the car window as they back onto the street.

Buck’s still not pouting as he waves them off.)

He weaves through the rest of the dance floor and steps over the rope. Ghosh’s husband offers him a fist bump (which he accepts) and Butler’s wife offers him a tequila shot (which he declines) as he continues his path to the back of the room. Finally, he makes it, squeezing between Coronelli’s fiance and a waiter before dropping into an empty chair next to Maddie.

“Buck! You’re here!” She throws her arms around his shoulders, wine glass tipping dangerously close to his back. “Buck’s here!” she says to the room at large. There’s a loud cheer that ripples through the crowd, though he’s pretty sure it’s actually for the two waiters that just brought over more Jello shots. “Wait. Why are you here?”

“Eddie called, said he was almost ready to leave” Buck shouts over the music.

What Eddie had actually said, in the voicemail he’d left after 5 texts of nonsense emojis, was:

“Buck. Baby. This is so fun. I wish you were here but this is so fun. Have you ever had Jello shots? I bet you have but wow they’re so good! And dancing is so fun! And I’m good at it! Karen said so! I’m so tired but this is so fun but I miss you so much. I’m gonna go keep dancing though bye.”

After being around drunk Eddie on multiple occasions, Buck knew that the overexcited rambling phase meant he was about 45 minutes away from falling asleep somewhere he shouldn’t. He figured he should be at the bar on standby before that happened.

(And totally not because he was feeling a smidge left out and wanted to see what this spouses club was all about. Not even a little bit.)

“Do you know where he is?” Buck asks.

Maddie twists around in her seat. “He was with Karen on the dance floor for a while, but I don’t know where they—”

“Buck!” That’s all the warning he gets before he gets a lap full of his very sweaty, very drunk husband. “You’re here! Hi!”

Eddie’s black t-shirt looks even tighter than it did when he left the house, hugging his chest and arms in all the right places. His hair is insane and covered in glitter, there’s a glowstick around his neck and a flush high on his cheeks, and his smile is the brightest thing in the whole club.

Buck smiles back just as big, because how could he not when Eddie is this happy? He falls a little bit harder in love, too, and harder still when Eddie winds his arms around his neck and rests his forehead on his shoulder.

“I missed you and I wanted you here and now you’re here. How did you know I wanted you here?”

“You called and left me a very cute message,” Buck says, adjusting them both so they didn’t fall backwards out of the chair that was not built to hold two grown men. “Just wanted to be here when you were ready to leave”

They still almost topple over when Eddie sits up too fast, looking at Buck with the world’s biggest puppy dog eyes, tears swimming in the flashing lights.

It seems they’ve made it all the way to emotional drunk Eddie. That definitely means it’s time to go.

“You know me so well,” Eddie says, reaching up to grab Buck’s face with a little too much enthusiasm. “You know everything so well like trivia and stuff but you mostly know me and I love you so much.” He’s shouting over the music by the time he gets to the last part, leaning in for a kiss aimed at Buck’s cheek but landing closer to his eye. There’s a chorus of awws from the people around them, and Buck can’t even pretend to be embarrassed — he likes everyone knowing how stupid they are about each other, drunk or sober or anything in between.

“I love you too baby,” he says, surely with a dopey grin on his face. Eddie lays his head back on his shoulder and starts to go boneless. “But I’m not carrying you all the way to the car, so we gotta go.”

Eddie sits up, eyes half closed. “Okay fine.” He scrambles to standing, grabbing Buck’s hand and doing nothing to help him up. “Bye guys!” he shouts to the room. “Buck’s taking me home!”

“Yeah! Get some!” Karen crows, giving Eddie a high five as they pass by.

“Karen stop,” Maddie groans.

“What? I’m being supportive!”

Buck pulls him toward the door as Eddie blows a kiss back to her. He stumbles all the way to the car without falling somehow and is asleep before Buck pulls out of the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie finally crawls out of bed at noon the next day looking like glittery death warmed over. He collapses onto Buck again, this time on their couch and much less amicable than he was last night.

Buck only laughs at his expense a little bit. “So you had a good time?”

Eddie groans. “My tongue is still blue and I’m pretty sure I’m sweating tequila.”

“Karen sent a video of you guys dancing, I didn’t know someone could be so hot and so dorky at the same time but you pulled it off.”

That earns him a throw pillow to the chest. “You’re definitely going next month, I’m getting too old for this.”

(He does not go next month. He lets Eddie keep going because he’ll gladly stay home for the night if he gets to see Eddie that happy and carefree on a regular basis. And he always, always, always picks him up.)

[jalapeno-princess]

“Babe, what are you doing?” You finished folding the top you were currently holding and placed it in to your suitcase before turning towards your boyfriend and observing the look of genuine curiosity on his face. Mark had just arrived home after his shift at the hospital; you had a feeling he must have been exhausted and you couldn’t blame him.

Since a few of his colleagues either called in sick or went on vacation this past week, he’s been working overtime and it was obvious the extra hours were taking a toll on his mental and physical health. But he was never one to complain and he sincerely loved being a nurse. Working in the medical field was one of the more tiresome occupations and so you understood that all he probably wanted to do was fall asleep. It was only 8:30 P.M., however, he would always go to bed as soon as he got home from work no matter what time it was.

Seeing you on the ground right outside of your closet, packing multiple pairs of your clothes away probably confused the hell out of him and he was most definitely not tired at all anymore. Sure, he came home wanting nothing more than to take a quick shower and go straight to bed with you wrapped tightly in his embrace, but now he had other plans.

“Packing.” He began to walk closer to where you were sitting and took his place next to you, his dumbfounded expression didn’t falter nor did it waver. You had to stifle back a laugh; you were confident he had an idea as to what you were doing, so you were well aware that your response wasn’t going to amuse him in any way.

“I can see that. Packing for what?”

“Girl’s trip.” Once you admitted your plans and the reason behind your packing, his look of confusion quickly turned in to that of a frown.

“I don’t remember us making plans to go somewhere. With who? Where are we going?”

“Not we Mark. Just Sophia, Riley, Julia and I.”

“Wait, what? Why? When? Where are you going? Why didn’t you tell me?” As much as you wanted to continue your packing, seeing his broken expression as he hesitantly reached for your clothes; as if he wanted to get you to stop tugged all but gently on your heartstrings.

“I told you a couple of days ago. Right after we finished—you know—“

“You mean to tell me, that you told me you planned on going on a trip with your friends after we finished making love? My head was obviously somewhere else—I was too busy in between your pretty thighs to even care about anything else but this beautiful body of yours—you did this on purpose babe. It’s as if you knew I would try to prevent you from going. I mean, you have every right to go and I’m not the kind of boyfriend to hold you back from having your fun and spending time with your friends, but any minute spent away from you feels like a fucking eternity and it’s sucks. I’m happiest whenever I’m with you and I’m sure you know it by now. No matter how shitty my day is at work, I put up with whatever life throws at me because I know I’m coming home to you. Now you’re leaving me all by myself for God knows how long—what am I going to do without you?”

When he first found you folding your clothes and sorting out your luggage, you found his curiosity extremely adorable. You expected this kind of reaction out of him; that’s just who Mark was. For someone who was only a few years away from reaching thirty, he could be such a big baby sometimes. However, that was a trait of your boyfriend’s that you admired the most about him. He was very sensitive; but that’s because he had one of the biggest hearts that anyone could own and he had a small amount of separation anxiety when it came to you.

It never bothered you though, it just showed that he loved and cared about you with his entire being. That information alone never failed to pull on your heartstrings. Seeing him so fragile right now; probably exhausted beyond belief after a long day yet on the verge of tears at the idea of being alone for a little while made you feel terrible. In the three years of your relationship, you never spent more than three days without each other. Wherever you went, Mark followed and vice versa. If you went to visit your family back home, he was right there next to you. If he went with his friends to an arcade, you would tag along even if gaming wasn’t your forte. A lot of your friends would jokingly refer to you and your boyfriend as magnets. The two of you stuck together like glue. You were never not together other than when either of you were at work.

Out of instinct and guilt for not informing him more about your plans, you crawled over to him and sat on his lap; wrapping your arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his jaw. He placed his face in the valley of your breasts and released a soft sigh. Mark was a firm believer in actions speaking louder than words. He would shower you with his love on a daily basis—he did almost every single thing for you. He loved being able to help you and support you in any way he possibly could. If you were tired from taking on more hours at your job; he would cook dinner of the both of you. He would also wash the dishes, do the laundry, sweep and mop your apartment and sometimes he would even prepare breakfast for you and pack your lunches.

Your boyfriend was just a very thoughtful and considerate human being. He was the definition of a gentleman and even if he would remind you that he loved you at least five times a day, you could tell by his many sacrifices; you were his entire world. Hearing him confess how bothered the news of the trip made him only caused you to regret not putting more thought in to your decision. What started off as a joke just to see what kind of reaction you would illicit out of him was now something so much bigger; something that could have been prevented.

“It’s only a week Mark—“

“A week? An entire week? Seriously y/n? How long have you been planning this for and why do you seem so okay with the thought of being away from me?”

“Well, I was actually the last one to know. The girls didn’t tell me until the same night I told you. They just assumed I wasn’t going to go because they all know I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t. God, we sound so pathetic. Sophia is joining the peace core in July, so she wants to spend as much time with us before she has to go away for two years. I wouldn’t go if that wasn’t the reason why they planned this entire trip. Jackson and Jinyoung seemed to take the news perfectly fine and I’ve heard that they are planning a trip of their own. I’m surprised that they didn’t reach out to you—“

“That’s because unlike them, I’m so far up your ass that I probably wouldn’t have any fun at all and it would be a waste of time and money if I were just moping the entire vacation. Plus, I don’t think I’d want to go with them anyway. The last time we went somewhere together, we almost got kicked out of a karaoke bar because Jackson’s dumb ass was being too loud. Humph, I’m really going to miss you. Damnit, what did you do to me? I never used to be this sappy before but here I am acting like it’s the end of the world since my girlfriend is going somewhere; probably going to have the time of her life with her friends while I do nothing but sit here like a loser until she gets back.”

You giggled softly at his words and beamed up at him; cupping his cheek with your palm before placing a few sweet kisses on his lips.

“We’re driving to Vegas—and luckily they already decided that it’s Riley whose in charge of getting us there so I will make sure to call you and text you whenever I get the chance. Trust me, I already tried to hint towards inviting you but they were quick to disagree. No boys on this trip—“

He pouted frustratingly once you said those words and wrapped his arms even tired around your sides. “Why not? I’m the best boyfriend out of our friend group let’s be honest here baby. The girls like me the most. Jackson talks too much and Jinyoung’s a petty asshole. I’m the quiet, mysterious and lighthearted boyfriend. I promise, you won’t even know that I’m there.”

You grazed your thumb against his cheek; trying your best to stifle back a laugh at his attempts to get you to reconsider. You were confident in the love your boyfriend had for you, but you weren’t sure how far he was willing to go in order to be with you at all times.

“Babe—“

“Fine, fine whatever. Go have your fun, you deserve it for all the hard work you had to suffer through in the last few weeks. But once you’re done putting away all your necessities, I want you on all fours. I need to fuck you tonight—no love making. I’m not going easy on you at all. I’m going to make sure your pussy is numb and your legs are jello once I’m done with you. Remember, five photos a day—make it ten. Two of the scenery, three of your gorgeous face I can never seem to take my eyes off of and five nudes. Oh, and I expect gifts. I want one of those five keychains and maybe a shirt that says I left my poor boyfriend home alone so that I could lose all my money playing slot machines—“

A breathy groan fell from his pretty lips as you elbowed him in his rib cage as your way to get him to stop talking. He was guilt tripping you and you’ve been with Mark long enough to know why he would do all that he did. You were also now very horny. It never failed to make you smile at an idiot knowing how soft spoken he was and how everyone around Mark assumed he must have been such a sweet, introverted guy. If only everyone knew just how much of a dominant, rough, animalistic and forceful man he was in the bedroom.

“That sounds like a great plan. Trust me my love, I’m going to miss you just as much as you’ll miss me. Before we do anything though, what are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Wish I was a girl. Now, take off your clothes and let me hit it from the back. Maybe I can fuck you so hard you won’t be able to move and I’ll have to nurse you back to health. Preferably with my dick.”

[whump-town]

Pretending

@genevievedarcygranger and I are dorks so here is my take on the thing we did together

Fingers stretch up past his throat, a thick arm pushing at the walls of his esophagus. Stretching it until his head is pushed back, lips parting to breathe around the obstruction. The fingers find his brain, wiggling and tearing through the dura mater as if it’s nothing more than jello. His thoughts shift sluggishly to when Jack was just a baby. The beaming sun against his back as he held his son on one knee, watching in horror as Jack smacked and tore through the cake in front of him with chubby grabbing fingers. He can feel those fingers cupping at his brain, making his knees weak and his body light. Aired out thoughts as nothing lays between his mouth and his thoughts. As if he could float away.

“Daddy?”

Leaning forward on the bench, Hotch presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Post Traumatic Stress, he’s sure Reid would identify easily enough, is crippling him right where he stands. In every little thing that he does. He’d just stepped outside for a book in the yard he left on the chair after watching Jack swing and been hit with such intense panic he’d fallen down into the grass. Couldn’t think or move. Jack had found him hunched over himself pressing his forehead into the warm ground, trying to think past the feeling of his paralyzed lungs.

The park had been their compromise - Jack lives in intervals and the park is a fantastic compromise to easily forget what he’s seen.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, clenching his jaw and focusing on the burn of the sun against his back. It takes an excruciating amount of energy but he lifts his head back up. Settles an unsteady smile and red-rimmed eyes on his son. With a hand that tremors, he cups Jack’s cheek. “What is it, buddy? Want help going across the monkey bars again?”

Jack frowns at him - a face Haley used to love. She’d laugh until she cried, always assuring him that he makes the exact same face. And despite the fact that he’s supposed to be making sure Jack has a normal childhood he’s crying in the park. Thinking about when Jack was so small he fit in the crook of Hotch’s elbow. Flailing asleep in the nursery counting Jack’s little breathes, terrified of what would happen if he walked away. Haley sitting in his lap, the two of them watching the boy they brought into the world together. How Haley had warned him he was going to blink and find he’d lost everything and now he’s sitting on a park bench having taken it all from her.

“Sorry,” Hotch rasps. He rubs his eyes, clearing his throat and forcing his body upright more. “Sorry,” he repeats. “Monkey bars?” He pushes himself up onto his feet, smiling as he offers Jack his hand. Waiting for the boy to grow distracted again by the overwhelming amount of options of things to climb on.

Jack looks over his shoulder to the monkey bars, envy burning his chest as he watches a girl older than him make her way across them. “Yes please,” he chirps, his small fingers wrapping around Hotch’s calloused ones. He beams up at his father, seeing only the man that takes him to the park and cuts his sandwiches into shapes that vaguely resemble dinosaurs. Past the sadness and how tired he is. “One day,” Jack says, pouring his concentration into jumping over the raised edge of the playground. He holds Hotch’s hand a little tighter, giggling when Hotch pulls him up even higher. He lands with a grunt and grins back at Hotch. “One day,” he continues, “I’m gonna be big and strong and --” Jack trips over his feet as he eagerly tears off for the monkey bars. He manages to stay upright. “One day I’m gonna be all growned up, just like you! And then I’m not gonna need no help!”

Hotch nods, following at a slower pace. Between the heat and sweater he’d chosen to wear (to cover the bruises still purpling and angry up his arms) he’s hot and the weakness of his body from too little sleep is draining him rapidly. He knows making it back to the car - a distance of only a few yards - will leave him light-headed and vision hazing. His body aches needs sleep and rest but he has to take care of a four-year-old and both of those things are nearly impossible.

“I wanna be as tall as you!” Jack says, pulling himself up on one of the bars. “Do you think I can?” Jack asks as Hotch ducks down into the contraption. “Mommy said I could,” Jack informs him. “She said I’d be just like you!” He beams at Hotch as he says this, thrilled by the idea of being just like his father. Tall and strong and nice and funny.

Hotch nods.

“But your hair is the wrong color,” Jack pouts.

Hotch smiles, genuinely, at that.

Jack doesn’t understand the amusement and frowns. “Why isn’t your hair yellow?”

Hotch bends down and picks Jack up, holding him around his hips so that Jack can reach up and grab onto the bars above his head. It makes his ribs flare up but he doesn't pay the pain any mind, it won’t stop him. “My mom and dad had dark hair. You have mommy’s hair,” Hotch says. Haley promised this constant talking phase would eventually wear off but Jessica’s theory was that it was just Jack’s way of making up for the “creepy” way Haley and Hotch never seemed to have to have verbal conversations. Haley just rolled her eyes and repeated her earlier promise - little kids just like to talk your ear off, he’d stop with age.

Hotch hopes he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you have mommy’s hair?”

Hotch smirks, “it doesn’t work like that, buddy.” They get to the end and Jack kicks his legs. “Want to drop down?” Jack makes a panicked sound, clearly not liking that idea. One of his hands leaves the bars and grabs Hotch’s wrist so that Hotch can’t let go. “Alright,” Hotch relents. “Do you wanna go again?”

“Yeah!” Jack just let's go, trusting Hotch will catch him. “Just one more time, though. Cause then I’m gonna go down the slide.”

“Alrighty.”

They begin again. Jack is light but Hotch’s ribs scream from having his arms raised up. The bones of his hand groaning as pressure is placed on them. It makes him light-headed, the sharp pain and the dull swelter of the heat. He steps forward, knee buckling, but he keeps both hands on Jack - the boy doesn’t notice.

“Good job,” Hotch praises, voiced rasped as Jack finishes. He lets Jack turn and settle down into his arms, pulled in against his side. Jack pulls both his hands down, showing his father the red patches of irritated skin. “Does it hurt?” Hotch asks. His thumb is nearly the size of Jack’s palm as he presses over the hurt. “That’s how you get callouses,” Hotch mumbles lowly, smirking at Jack’s surprise.

Jack forgets the pain in an instant. “You promise?”

Hotch hums his confirmation and Jack eagerly squirms at the idea. Hotch sets him down on his feet and Jack jumps up excitedly. “Daddy,” Jack calls, turning around and tearing off in the direction of the other equipment. “I’m gonna go to the slide!” Jack pays him no more mind and with a sigh, Hotch leans into the metal bar to his left. Knees shaking and head spinning.

He pushes himself upright, glancing at Jack out of the corner of his eye. He’s in the clear, he knows, but he’s still careful. Makes sure to keep his gait even and strong as he clears the space between monkey bars and the rest of the playground to the bench screaming his name.

“Daddy!” Jack yells from the top of the slide, waving.

Hotch stops and waves back, waiting for Jack to get distracted again before forcing himself forward. He sinks, bone-tired, back onto the bench. Scared that if he’s upright for another moment he’ll pass out. His vision swarms and dips with the heat around him, logged by his exhaustion.

He feels something splash on his pants and at first, he ignores it as just a ghost sensation. They happen and he’s anxious and uncomfortable enough he’s sure his body is just playing all kinds of cruel jokes at his expense. When isn’t it? It happens again a few minutes later but it’s not the same feeling. He looks down and he sees blood-- not just a stain that happens to be red, he sees blood far too often to mistake it for anything else-- and glances over to his left to locate Jack. The boy is obviously to him, shouting happily as he shoots down the slide. He lifts his hips enough to work his hand into his pocket to the handkerchief nearly all his pants carry. He presses the material to his nose, faking to just wipe it in case either of Jack looks over.

His nose is bleeding.

Back when he worked in Seattle, he’d seen a guy get shot in the leg. The bullet nicked an artery and he’d seen that bright blood, the way it gushed so quickly it was hard to put pressure over the flow. Frozen in fear, he’d never seen anything like that. Sitting here on this bench he looks down at the bright blood and gets lost. Frozen once again.

“Daddy!”

Hotch swallows thickly, grimacing at the taste of the blood that’s slid down the back of his throat. He clamps his hand over his nose, still smiling despite the fact that Jack can’t see it. “Hey-” Tears swell in Jack’s eyes as he sees the blood. “I’m okay,” Hotch assures. “It’s just a little blood, buddy.”

Jack whines softly, clearly not convinced. “Daddy, I wanna go home.” He tugs at Hotch’s sleeve. “Can we call Aunt Jess now,” Jack asks, anxiously. He worries the fabric of Hotch’s pants between his fingers, shifting as he waits for a reply.

He wants to assure Jack that they can stay a little longer but he sees the tears pouring down Jack’s face and Hotch nods. He leans to the side, digging his phone out of his pocket. It’s probably not his most coherent text but he manages to put together a few words - the letters all a blur - and it takes only a moment for her to respond. She’s on her way. He sags forward, head falling into his hand. “I’m sorry Jack.” He feels Jack’s hand come up to rest against his cheek, his warm palm sliding until Jack is hugging him. Even if he has to stand up on his toes.

Jack squeezing his neck. “It’s okay,” Jack assures him. “Me ‘n Jess are gonna get you a bandaid and a popsicle and then you’re gonna be all better.” Jack doesn’t let go. “It’s gonna be okay, right Daddy?”

Jack’s conviction is so strong that Hotch doesn’t bother explaining that he can’t put a bandaid over his nose and that it’s going to take more than a popsicle to fix this mess he’s created. But for now, he’ll let Jack hold onto him and “help” him walk to the car. He’ll let Jessica smother him with her worry and take it in stride because it’s important Jack understands getting help is just a part of life - even if each time Jessica touches him his stomach will roll.

He’ll choke down enough of his dinner to assure everyone he’s fine.

And, with any luck, he’ll manage to pretend his way into truly being okay.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s gonna be okay.”

[xofanfics]

String - Part IV

Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive themes

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ.

Things were not going as planned. That was evident yesterday when Baekhyun paid you a visit.  You felt a bunch of things—annoyance, anger, frustration, sadness. The list went on and your friends could see it in your face. Earlier that week, Evie and Sadie had invited you to sleepover at their dorm for Friday night. Though you hadn’t expected the week to go the way it had, you were grateful that you’d be spending your Friday night with friends instead of in bed eating easy mac and binge watching Vampire Diaries. 

As you sat on the train with your overnight bag, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited. You hadn’t had a girls’ night in a while. For the most part, you usually went out with the guys. This weekend though, you would be with the girls and the girls only. You needed a break. They promised drinks, music and movies in their dorm room. 

The train screeched to a halt as you arrived at 14th Street - Union Square station. You got off the train quickly as a woman nearly knocked you over just to get onto the train. If it was one thing that annoyed you about New York City, it was people like that woman who, for some reason, can’t seem to wait for people to actually get off of the train. People like her give the city a bad name. The station was crowded now; you saw people dressed up and ready to start drinking, you saw people in suits coming from work after a long day at the office, and you saw kids in uniforms in clusters with their friends.

The city always came alive at night as the sun was setting. As you passed the park you saw some street performers playing instruments, the sound of smooth jazz filling your ears. The walk to your friend’s dorm seemed to go more quickly than usual. You were excited to spend time with your friends but you were also disappointed how things went with Baekhyun. He texted you earlier today but you ignored his message and left it on read. You didn’t know how to respond to him after the other night. You stared at the message, unsure of how to react. He said: 

[7:48am] Morning! Sorry I had to leave last night. I’m on my way to the pool now. Hope you have a good day! 

You couldn’t respond to him because you didn’t know how and also because you didn’t know where your fingers would take you if you started typing. It was better, you decided, to ignore the message altogether. 

You signed in at their dorm and waited for Evie to pick you up from the lobby. She came a moment later. “Hey,” she said, waving at the person at the desk as you headed upstairs with her. “We ordered some Chinese food. We timed it perfectly cause it’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“What did we get?”

“Some dumplings, beef and scallions, general tso’s chicken, and shrimp fried rice.”

“That sounds like more than enough,” you said, laughing, as Evie opened the door to their suite. You put your bags down and hugged Sadie. “Hey.”

“So I had nothing else better to do so I put together some fun ideas for tonight,” she said, showing you her phone. “We’re gonna play some drinking games after we eat. Our suitemates are down to play uno and jenga. It’s gonna be great.” She held up a familiar vape pen with the oil that would lead you on a winding, neverending path up to the clouds, if not further. “Want a hit?”

*

You shrieked as you pulled out the wooden piece that sent everything crashing down to the floor. “Damn it!” You and your friends laughed, along with their suitemates. It was time to take a shot. You weren’t sure how many shots you’d had at this point since you and your friends agreed to do half shots so no one would get too drunk and result in the night ending with someone passed out in a corner or slumped at the table. 

Vodka was never good but it was cheap and good enough to get you drunk quickly. Everyone chipped in to get a bottle of Pinnacle earlier. You took the shot, feeling the liquid fire in your core, your friends cheering in the background.

This was what you needed: a night to take your mind off of things. No boys, no drama, just fun and games. You hadn’t thought about Baekhyun once since you got here. Maybe, in your own way, this just served as a distraction to the reality that you had absolutely no idea what was going on in your life but it was fine. As of now, it was fine. You were enjoying yourself and that was all that mattered. 

As your friends decided what games you should play next, you made the mistake of picking up your phone. Your screen displayed Instagram, where you’d left it last. You clicked on Drew’s story and saw that he was at Bar None with Baekhyun and Daren. They seemed to be having a boys’ night from what you could see. 

“Did Baekhyun invite you guys out with them?” you asked.

Sadie shook her head. “Nah. I talked to the guys earlier today but we didn’t make any plans with them. Why?”

“Just wondering,” you said. “I hung out with Baekhyun the other night and we were supposed to talk.”

Evie raised her eyebrows. “What happened?”

“We hung out as usual. Ordered food, watched TV, and we fell asleep. Just when I thought he was gonna come to bed with me, he went home.”

Sadie said, “So you didn’t talk?” You shook your head. “I think he likes someone else. I overheard him and Drew talking and—”

You stopped her, desperate for some inkling of what was going on in Baekhyun’s life. “What did he say?”

“I mean, nothing specific. He was saying that he ran into someone somewhere and that they got ice cream. He said that she was cute. I-I only caught a piece of it and to be honest, he could’ve been talking about anyone so I didn’t think much of it.” 

You rolled your eyes and picked up your phone again. You’d started the evening not thinking about Baekhyun and you let him get in your head yet again. The purpose of being here tonight was to hang out with your friends and gossip about any and everyone who wasn’t Baekhyun Byun. You found yourself on Instagram looking for Baekhyun’s account to look at his story. According to his story, last night he made instant ramen. Today around lunchtime, he had tacos and, from what he could see, he wasn’t alone. The person wasn’t in the shot but you could tell by the little bit of hand in the corner, that the feminine hand belonged to someone with perfect, powder blue nails.

You tossed your phone on the table and started looking for your drink. Evie looked at the phone and swiped backward to see what you were looking at. She cleared her throat. “Oh God.”

“It could just be a friend,” you said, refusing to accept this outcome as truth. “You know what? I’m gonna ask him.” You stood up, grabbed your phone and started putting your sandals on. 

“Where are you going?” Evie asked. “We’re gonna play UNO next.”

“I’m going to the bar.”

“No you’re not,” your friend said, standing in front of you. “Now is not the time.”

“Well I need to talk to him.”

You started toward the door, determined to see Baekhyun no matter what. Your friends couldn’t stop you. Evie started putting her shoes on, too. “Shouldn’t you try to do this sober or something?”

Sadie said, “I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Look,” you said, shaking your head. “I tried to talk to him twice already. I say, fuck that. Third time’s a charm, right?”

*

This probably wasn’t a good idea but you were on your way, with Sadie and Evie at your side. They knew just as well as you did, deep down, that this was a terrible idea. There was no way that this would go well but you needed to know. You needed answers and you needed them now. You couldn’t go one more day without knowing where you stood with Baekhyun. You hated not knowing how he felt or where you were going.

You crossed the street, the alcohol making your legs feel like jello. The three of you were still pretty drunk and, with Sadie insisting on bringing the vape pen, you were crossfaded enough to deal with this situation. There were a million things you wanted to say, in a million different ways. You’d visualized scenarios that hadn’t happened in your head while you walked. Some outcomes you imagined were positive, with you leaving the bar hand in hand with Baekhyun, while other outcomes you imagined were more dramatic, ending with you hitting him in the head with a bottle of liquor you’d stolen from the bar. 

“What are you gonna say to him?” asked Sadie. 

“I dunno,” you said, turning the corner. “I’m gonna wing it.”

“Oh God,” you heard Evie say under her breath as you approached the bouncer standing outside. She had no idea what she was getting herself into and, to be honest, neither did you. On the way over, Evie was the main person trying to get you to change your mind about confronting Baekhyun. 

She said things like “This is going to end in disaster” and “Why not sleep off the liquor and call him tomorrow or something?” But she couldn’t change your mind. You had your mind set on one thing and one thing only. 

You showed the bouncer your ID before storming into the bar without waiting for your friends. You took in your surroundings. It was crowded now. It was after eleven now and the groups of friends that had dinner after work were beginning to make their way to the bars. You looked by the bar and didn’t find any of your friends there. You peeked over people’s heads walking by the bar and over by the seats. 

Drew and Daren were sitting in a booth, you noticed, as you got closer. Baekhyun however, was nowhere in sight. Did he leave the bar? Without greeting your friends, you said, “Where’s Baek?”

“Well damn, hello to you too Y/N,” Drew said. 

Daren laughed. “He’s in the bathroom.” You plopped down into the booth next to him. Sadie and Evie came up to the table. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We decided to come to the bar,” you said as Baekhyun approached the table. 

He glanced at you and the girls with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re bar hopping,” you snapped, turning to him. A flash of hurt crossed Baekhyun’s face but you didn’t care. “I wanna talk to you.”

“Uh,” he said, “sure.” He grabbed his drink from the table and downed the rest of it. The two of you walked out of the bar, leaving your friends behind. You stepped out into the cool night air. Baekhyun didn’t say anything. He could feel the tension and frustration radiating off of your body. He followed you around the corner into a back street.

You stopped in front of a tree, folding your arms across your chest. “I have a question.”

Baekhyun looked down at the sidewalk. “What’s up?”

“What’s going on with us?”

“What do you mean?”

“What the fuck are we doing, Baekhyun? You’ve been avoiding me…”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. We hung out the other day, like old times.”

You were pissed. Here he was acting like he was innocent, like he’d done no wrong. “Do you remember the conversation we had in May?”

Baekhyun looked up at you and nodded. “I do.”

“So,” you said, “what’s going on with us, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun knew what you were upset about before you even said anything. You’d been wanting to talk to him for a few days and he avoided it every time even if it was just coincidence. The first time he didn’t notice because he was going to see you at brunch with your friends. At first, he’d thought it was just something small you wanted to mention casually. But you didn’t talk at brunch about anything significant and you didn’t get to talk at your place because he ended up having to take care of Daren. He didn’t put together your disappointment until later that night. He felt bad; he even thought of calling you back then. 

He had been avoiding you. He was guilty about it and he also felt guilty about Kira coming back into his life. He was seeing Kira last year before he even met you. Things hadn’t gotten too far with her then but he liked her a lot. Kira left to study abroad and then he met you the following semester. He had a bunch of classes with you and you got closer and closer; close enough to be inside you. 

It wasn’t that he regretted it or that he’d been using you because he ended up liking you. Baekhyun wanted to date you which is why he agreed to it in the first place. The thing was that he didn’t want to start dating you and then go to Korea for the summer a couple days later. He didn’t want to start the relationship off in Korea, arguing and struggling over the time difference and whether or not the two of you were seeing other people. So he wanted to wait. He made a reservation at a steakhouse called Wolfgang’s for September 20th—a Friday night. 

Today was September 20th and he was here at the bar with his friends instead of at that restaurant with you. He planned on asking you out officially then, had his plans not been derailed by a former flame coming back into the picture. He cancelled the reservation last night; that was the point of no return. He couldn’t ask you out when he felt this way about Kira instead of about you. He questioned whether the feelings he had for you had been real or not. He liked you, he cared about you, but you didn’t make his heart explode and fall to the ground in pieces. 

Baekhyun didn’t reply so you asked another question he couldn’t answer. “Do you like me?”

“Of course I like you,” he said. “I care about you.”

“But you don’t like me like that, right?” You bit your lip, trying to hold in the emotions that threatened to leave your body in the form of tears.

Baekhyun let out a sigh. This was the tough part. “I don’t think I feel like that…”

You nodded and headed over to the steps of an apartment building. You sat and ran your hands through your hair before looking up at Baekhyun. “Did you ever like me?”

Baekhyun grabbed onto your hand. “Everything that happened between us...it was real. I did have feelings for you. I never lied to you and—”

“So it’s better to lie to me now, huh?” you asked, pushing his hand away.

“Feelings can change Y/N!”

“Feelings don’t just change overnight. Two weeks ago you were in my bed. Your feelings just vanished into thin air in that short amount of time?”

“Come on, Y/N! I can’t help how I’m feeling. If you found someone you liked, wouldn’t you go for it?”

There it was: the truth. It didn’t come out in the way you thought it would but there it was. He liked someone else, just like Sadie said. You felt like a complete idiot, waiting around for him for this long when it wasn’t even a possibility.

“Don’t hate me for this,” he said. “You would’ve done the same. If things had gone well with that guy you used to like, we wouldn’t have even gotten to this point! There wouldn’t have been any confusion on what this was from the beginning…just casual sex between two people when we needed to get off, mutual entertainment!” He sighed. “Please don’t be upset. You deserve someone whose heart skips a beat when you smile...like yours used to do to me...” 

You let out a laugh and stood up. “Okay, Baekhyun. Fuck you.”

Baekhyun swore under his breath. “Y/N, please don’t take this the wrong way.”

“I think you made yourself clear tonight,” you said, a tear finally falling down your cheek. You turned on your heel and started walking away.

Crystal clear.

*****

Tag List:  @shesdreaminginoverdose @multistania​ @jeonchan26​ @myonlyaurora​ @keloiu​ 

Please DM me if you want to be added to the tag list! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

[unholyplumpprincess]

Mrs. Williams

Self indulgent fic with Bangalore being reader’s wife and you help her ease all the tension in her from the games once she’s back home. Reader loves their wife so much.

Relationship: Bangalore/GN AFAB Reader

Fandom: Apex legends

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral, Bangalore is the best wife, y’all have a dog together, Reader is written wearing more feminine clothing but gender not specified!, Marriage?, it’s gay

Words: 2.7K

_____

Your wife was known as one of the biggest legends out there. Anita was seen on banners, was an icon for little girls who wanted to chop their hair short and take on deeper voices. How she wielded a weapon between calloused hands and shot charming smirks across the arena to cameras made people fall in love.

You were no stranger to the feeling of falling in love either. She was easy to fall in love with. You mean- just LOOK at her.

Her smoky voice and soft chuckles got enough of a rise out of you at the bar alone. By then, you hadn’t known of the legend Bangalore. You only knew of the woman.

Anita Williams.

~Rest under the cut~

Anita was rather a mystery- despite having talked about her past in a war you couldn’t put your finger on. It wasn’t a war of worlds, there was something there that haunted her and she shut down any speak of it. You never pushed, not wanting her to feel like she needed to expose things to you she wasn’t even ready herself for.

It had been you who had kissed her first, one fateful night. After a particularly bad loss in the games and her being upset by it. You had made her dinner, held her hand. And when she wouldn’t stop glancing at your lips you took your shot.

That was a year ago. And now? Now you have an apartment she regularly visited. You both had your own spaces still, even after being married. The games required her to be closer during the season in her dorm, otherwise she was at home with you.

Home.

The thought made you smile.

The simple gold band around your ring matched the one she had on her dog tags, close to her heart and out of the way from pulling triggers or getting caught. Your wedding photos line the tops of your dressers and the walls. Her dress had been beautiful, a fluffy little ball gown and she’d ditched the makeup so you could kiss all the little freckles on her cheeks that night.

Not your fault her face was covered in lipstick kisses by the end of the day.

The game from yesterday was over, with her, Bloodhound, and Mirage reigning champions of the arena. The next upcoming game was next week, allowing the legends and newcomers to have a break from the grueling task of the bloody sport.

It meant she had time to come over, which meant your apartment was cleaned with your shared rottweiler wiggling his stubby little tail in excitement. He knew if you were cleaning that mommy was coming over soon enough. But, that also meant you needed to tucker him out enough he wouldn’t be hopping all on her.

Which leads to an hour long walk around the city with your big pup.

Chief was a big dog, as rottweilers were. A big adopted goofball who liked to be dressed up and pampered, which also meant strangers patting his head and calling him pretty. He was very much a mommy’s boy, loving Anita’s company and preferring to lounge on your wife when she was home.

Due to living in the small space of your apartment, that meant many walks for the pup when the weather allowed it, which meant plenty of snuggles from strangers. Especially kids who liked to compliment his nice pink bandana and big smile.

Once home, tuckered out, Chief splays out on his bed and snoozes. All according to plan once Anita shows up an hour later, right when you were about to fall asleep on the couch. Springing right up to greet her at the door.

Reaching up, she leans down for you to cup her cheeks and draw her into a soft kiss. Humming against your mouth as you smile against hers in return.

“Take it you missed me?” She murmurs against your lips, and you take the cue to pull back. Pressing a singular kiss to her nose and letting her go.

“Mmh. Maybe. I GUESS I missed you or something.” You tease, earning you an amused little smirk as she drops her backpack on the floor. Lunging for you as you squeal and hit the couch first as she peppers kisses all over your face and blows raspberries in your neck.

It’s only a matter of time before the excitement makes Chief hop up onto the couch with you both. Grunting and huffing through his nose until he can find his favorite part between the both of you with Anita lavishing him in attention.

Home.

–

After dinner and your own shower, it’s time to rest in bed. The lamp illuminating the room in warm lighting as you rest in a pretty, long black night gown. Showing a plentiful amount of cleavage in a low plunge and enough of your legs to be playful. You play on your phone as you wait for Anita to get through with her shower, already planning ahead.

Lotion rests on the nightstand under the lamp with two water bottles. Toys in a drawer and her favorite perfume clinging to your skin.

It goes accordingly when she leaves the shower. Loose sweatpants around her hips and her tanktop pulled up enough to show her midriff as she towels at her curls. Tossing the towel into the nearby hamper as she rolls her shoulders and groans from the tension.

Perfect.

Her dogtags around her neck jingle as she approaches and you let your eyes drift up to her. Putting your phone off to the side of the bed and crawling to the end of the bed to meet her there. Pulling yourself up onto your knees so you can drape your arms around her neck and watch her smile knowingly at you.

“You seem tense, baby,” You take the time of pause to nuzzle up into her neck. Speaking softly. “You haven’t been doing stretches before you go out into the ring, have you?” You press a soft kiss to her pulse point, drifting your soft lips up to her ear as she shivers. Briefly shaking her head in reply.

“Mmh,” you hum softly, pressing a kiss to her lobe and pulling back. “Lie down, I’ll give you a massage- just take off your pants and maybe your top.”

Obedient as ever, Anita huffs in reply, rolling her eyes at your antics as she shimmies out of her sweatpants to show plain black boyshorts. Pulling off her tanktop and making you bite your bottom lip as you admire her toned body. The way her abs and biceps flex. Trailing your eyes up to her breasts.

With an athletic build, she didn’t have too much there. Enough to be soft handfuls amongst all her hard earned muscle.

“Beautiful.” You murmur, just to watch her flush red and rub at the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Married you may have been, but you never tired of seeing her turn pink at the ears.

She lies obediently down on her abdomen on the bed. Cradling her head under her arms to rest her cheek on her forearm, watching you round the bed to get the lotion and perching beside her on your knees.

The lotion smells plain of vanilla. Easy to spread on your hands and then onto her back. Hissing softly under your breath when you feel just how tense she’s been. “Anita.” You groan in a scolding tone, earning you a snort back from her like a chuffing puppy.

“No time between drops to time when to do your ‘yoga regime’, baby.” She groans back at you, only to really moan under you when you work your fingers into her taut shoulders. Working out knots with your thumbs and applying enough pressure to be nice.

From there it’s just quiet sighs and groans from her as you work down her spine, over her hips then down to her legs. Her calves are the worst of all, tense probably from crouching and running about. You tut at her and she grunts her apology. Wordlessly having a conversation.

When you roll her onto her back, she’s already like jello. Relaxed and pliant as you work over her neck, down her arms to her hands where you kiss at her palms and fingertips. Watching her lips quirk up and her eyes flutter closed, relaxing under you.

You don’t play coy around her chest, avoiding any sensitive areas to work thoroughly on unwinding her. Working over her thigh muscles and feeling her squirm briefly. Ticklish to your antics and you can’t help but blow a raspberry on her tummy just to watch Anita jerk and push at your head with a laughed out, “Hey!”

You smile back at her. Excusing yourself briefly to go wash your hands off in the bathroom to rid yourself of the lotion. She waves you off, clearly not going anywhere.

Good.

When you come back, she still hasn’t moved. Splayed out on her back, legs parted a little, propped up against the pillows now. You make your presence known with the creak of the bed, pressing your weight into it and crawling up her body. Resting between her thighs as you hover above her.

Her eyes catch yours, deep pools of dark brown and her pupils blown wide.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmur in a low tone, leaning down and pressing an open mouthed kiss to her jawline. Letting your teeth scrape there just to hear her breath hitch. You smirk, sucking a hickey just beneath her ear and feel her hands come up to grip at your sides with a low whine of your name.

“Missed you all week,” You breathe into her ear, tracing your lips up back to the corner of her own mouth. “Couldn’t wait to taste your sweet cunt again.” Your voice drops then, feeling her lips part in a shaky breath. All the opening you need to claim her mouth as your own. Licking into her mouth and feel her hands grab at your ass now. Trying to pull you up onto her lap so she can maybe grind on you, grab at you.

You couldn’t allow that. You were taking care of her after all.

One hand presses by Anita’s head to keep you up, the other grabs at her breast. Squeezing softly at the flesh before rolling and pinching her nipple. Getting it hard before you part from the kiss. Kissing down her throat, down her clavicle and brushing scars along the way. Sucking a hickey into the side of her breast before finally sealing your lips over her nipple.

She’s sensitive, sighing with pleasure harshly and turning her head. Anita’s freckled cheeks are flushed dark and you take joy in how her fingers twist in your hair as you lick at the hardened nub in your mouth.

You only part briefly so you can move to her side. Almost spooning her as you cradle her breast and guide her to face you a touch so you can wrap your lips back around her nipple. Letting her stroke and pull at your hair as your other hand comes down between her thighs. Palming at her crotch and stroking with your thumb over the slit of her lower lips.

Anita whines at that, bending down to kiss at the top of your head and groaning when your thumb presses hard to her clit through her underwear. Stroking back and forth and pressing her with your palm until you feel wetness sticking to your hand.

“Baby-” She whines out when you pull your hand away, pulling off her nipple. You shush her whining as she reaches for you, gently guiding her hands back to your hair.

“Shh, I wanna take care of you tonight, Anita. You work too hard. Let me take care of you.” You murmur so soft into her skin as you kiss down the path from her breasts to her abdomen. Anita’s face is burning, her eyes displaying her trying to decide if she wants to just let you have it tonight. No control, nothing kinky, just touch.

Her decision is made by the time you reach the top of her boyshorts. Leaning down to inhale her scent and nose at the wetness. Your eyes stay on her face, watching as her eyes flutter and she turns her head in embarrassment as you moan low in your throat.

Gods, you missed her.

Hooking your fingers in the elastic, you pull them down with her help. Anita lifting up her hips until you can hook them off her ankle and leave them there. Too excited to press at her thighs and spread her open.

Dark curls rest between her thighs. Trimmed and well kept. Her pussy spreads open like a flower with plump lower lips and floral-like inner labia. Her clit is rounded and a good size, easy to make bigger with enough stimulation. Glistening wet as her clit jerks with a contraction when you blow air on her.

You can’t wait anymore. Your mouth is watering and you’re far too dizzy with need.

Your first lick is a test. From hole to clit in a long, drawn out lick. Her slick sticks to your tongue, tangy and salty all the same as her hips jerk. She’s sensitive. She hasn’t touched herself since you last had her.

You nearly smile at your wife, peeking under your lashes to watch her bite her own fist, her other hand tangled in your hair and trying to push you back down.

“Good girl.” You sigh up to her, watch her nod her head quickly in response. Yes, she’s a good girl, yes she didn’t touch herself, yes please continue.

She won’t say it. Anita is far too prideful to beg sometimes. But you can feel it.

You seal your lips over her clit in open mouthed kisses. Selfishly toying with her as you trace around her clit. One hand pressing to her mound and pushing a bit to pull back her clitoral hood. Making her clit more pronounced as you kiss at it, mouthing at her until her breath hitches and a whine creeps out.

You quickly begin sucking over her. Watching her throw her head back before you close your eyes. Using your other hand that was resting on her thigh to come up. Stroking two fingers through her slick before easing one inside. Quirking it upwards and rubbing at her inner walls before introducing the second to begin stretching at her.

You lick at her swollen clit caught between your lips. Lavishing attention on her as you begin fucking her with your fingers. You only pull back for air, huffing hot breaths over her and using your thumb to rub at her clit. Licking your slick lips and nuzzling at her thigh.

Anita is a mess. Hips bucking upwards, teeth sinking into her fist and doing no help of muffling her moans and low sighs. Huffing as her head shakes from side to side with each movement you allow her. Her hand in your hair can’t decide whether it wants to pet, pull, or shove you back down where you want to be.

“That’s it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers.” You coo to her. Watching and feeling her hips as she pushes down into your insistent thrusts. Feeling how she twitches and squeezes around you, beginning to push at your head again until you do what she wants. Sealing your lips back around her clit and sucking hard.

With a few well timed thrusts up into her, you quirk your fingers upwards and she’s done for.

Anita cries out, her fist going from her mouth to pound against the mattress once or twice as she cums. She’s loud as she cries out your name, hips stuttering as you fuck her through it. Licking selfishly at her jerking clit even when she pulls at your hair and whines.

You only stop when she’s sensitive enough to sob your name out. Slowing down and pressing one last hard, wet kiss to her clit and slowly pulling your fingers out. Sliding them through her lower lips to capture her clit between your fingers a few times just to keep her high enough.

“Mggh-” Is Anita’s groaned reply once you finally stop. Watching her outstretch her arms until you come up, straddling her hips and nuzzling into her neck so she can cuddle you like an oversized plush.

“Don’t take that you’re up for round two anytime soon?” You tease into her neck, feeling her racing pulse against your lips.

Anita’s reply is a huff and a weak slap to your ass that has you laughing.

[just-mirko]

 BINARY  

BNHA HACKER AU - CHAPTER 6

MASTERLIST

Mirko x F!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Me calling out all of you readers as bottoms.

WC: 2.1K

--

She gazed at my face with indistinguishable emotion. Her teeth were barred in a mix between a grimace and a smile. The blood that was smeared beneath her mouth where I had injured her; the red blood matched her wild eyes.

“I win,” She said quietly...

--

             Her breathing was slowing, though I still could not distinguish between each of our pants. Blood rushed to my head, making me feel hot, cold, and everything in between. My gaze was fixated on the small stream of blood making its way down her chin, next to where the previous blood had been smeared in a weak attempt to get it off her face. Looking up from the corner of her lip, our eyes met, and for a second, we both stilled. The ringing in my ears got remarkably silent. I could only image the same was happening for her.

             The corner of my lips tugged into a small smile and her grip on my wrists weakened the slightest bit, letting blood flow back into my aching fingertips. My muscles relaxed a small amount, no longer having to strain to keep them from being stretched too much.

             A small pause was shown in her features. For a moment Mirko seemed open and free. It was a short second though, and that look glazed back over. I was met with the same eyes I always saw behind the silver mask.

             She rolled from atop me with a thud and laid on the sparring mat next to me. Her presence was quiet, but reassuring: slightly cocky as well, seeing as she totally wiped the floor with me. The only good hit I managed to get was a throw towards her jaw, and even then, she only flinched when it drew blood. Even on the hard mat my limbs felt like jello as I melted into the floor. Oh, what I would give to just fall asleep right now. I have not been that active in so long. Our fight was less than 5 minutes but was so filled with movement and pain that my energy drained quick.

             “Has everyone completed their first match?” I heard Nezu say. To me, it felt like I was hearing it from underneath 10ft of water. Falling into the deep end.

             “Yea” A chorus of voices responded, some sounding worse for wear than the others. Mine was one of the worse ones. The back of my throat was scratchy. Some other students brought water bottles with them, but I hadn’t even brought mine to the academy.

             I guess I should buy a new one later. I silently noted.

             I sat up, into a crossed leg position on the mat. My back instantly slouched over from the soreness in my muscles. Staying upright was a struggle.

             “Well…” Nezu began, his finger tapping his lips. -Nose? I do not know mouse terminology- as he pondered the next words to say. “Your matches weren’t  terrible I guess, but it was far from proficient.”

             I was dazed and looking around at the other students. A smirk could not help but make its way onto my face when I saw that hawks was missing one of the larger feathers on his wing. One feather we even stuck in the ceiling. Ha! He constantly gazed back up at it, willing it to fall down, but It was wedged there.

             “Some of you have sustained a few bruises, and sores, do you have any injuries that require immediate attention?” He asked, scanning the room looking for students in pain When his gaze landed on Mirko.

             “Are you still bleeding?” He asked inquisitively. He knew it wasn’t a major injury, but whatever he had planned next wouldn’t suit well if she just kept spilling her red blood cells everywhere.

             “(Y/N)” Nezu called cheerfully with a slightly mischievous undertone.

             “Take her to the common room, there is a first aid kit near the doors in. Do try and help her with a band aid or two.”

             I was about to speak up when he beat me to it,

             “You wont miss anything, we will just be giving feedback on the fights that happened with everyone’s partners.”

             I looked towards Mirko. She brought a finger up to her face and rubbed her lip lightly, checking for blood. It came back red. The liquid was seeming to slow down though, but the amount of slowly drying blood smeared across her jawline and dribbling down her neck wasn’t a good look. Well god, it did look really hot on her, but I could imagine the taste of iron was something she wanted to get out of her mouth.

             Gesturing her head towards the door, Mirko stood up lightly. Her recovery was amazing. So soon after a fight and she was already as energetic as ever.

             She reached out to me and I took her hand, when she pulled me up, I could feel a few joints in me leg pop uncomfortably. The would definitely swell up a little by tomorrow.

             We walked through the exit doors silently, not wanting to disrupt the rest of the class more than we already had. The hallways were so dark compared to the bright penthouse training area lined with windows.

             The ride down the elevator was nothing short of awkward, I stood an arms distance apart in the corner, my head filled with so many thoughts that I could not translate into words.

             “I’m sorry for punching you like that” I sheepishly mumbled quietly. It’s my fault that she had to miss a portion of class. On the first day at that. I should’ve aimed for her shoulder or something.

             Her white ears twitched towards me.

             “Hey, it was a good punch Bunny, kind of deserved it after I pinned you that roughly... Hey are your wrists okay?” She said the last sentence quickly. Maybe she was afraid that got hurt.

             “I’m okay!” I quickly respond, moving my arms straight in front of me to show my hands. I rolled them a little to show each side and prove they were nothing more than a little red.

             I said with a smile, “They are barely sore anymore.”

             She took one of my hands and gently turned it over, looking at the join and checking for what I assumed was bruises. Satisfied that there were no injuries. She let out a small sigh, though she still held my hand carefully. The tips of her nails tickled lightly against my palm.

             Under my breath, in the lowest tone possible, I quietly admitted to myself.

             “Hey, it’s not like I didn’t like it”

             “Did you say something?” Mirko’s voice was eerily calm. Its not like she heard it though: she probably though it was just talking to myself.

             The elevator ride down to the common room ended when a small ding resonated into the metal box.  We stepped off and opened the large wooden doors.

             I told her to go sit down on the couch while I fished for the first aid kit.

             I found it in a small shelf under a box of medical tape and gauze.

             “Got it!”

             I walked towards Mirko, holding the box in my hands, wondering where to place it. I settled on the coffee table. Both of us were silent as I sat right next to her. I was not aware of how close I sat, until I turned to her, alcohol wipes in hand, less than a foot from her face.

             I froze in place and my heartbeat picked up. I took a gulp and gently took her face in my hand before beginning to remove some of the dried blood. I was nearly eye level with her chin when we were both sitting down, so it was easy to avoid eye contact. While I focused, I got into a sort of trance. I was trying to be as delicate as possible as to not reopen the cut, though some of the blood was tough to remove

             Once that was over, I just had to apply an antibiotic cream, then a band aid.

             I put a bit of the ointment on my thumb then placed my hand on both sides of her face to make sure she did not move. Carefully, I brushed the bottom of her lip with my thumb, making sure to get the wound, and a little bit of the area around it covered.  Her face was so warm under my touch, and soft too. Each small exhale made a little puff of warm air fan across the fingertips, sending shivers down my spine.

             Lastly, I unwrapped the band aid and positioned it over her face before tapping it down and making sure it stayed on.

             “How much do you know about rabbits (Y/N)?” Mirko’s voice was no louder than a whisper, and our faces were so close that every word she said was clear.

             “Not that much more than the average person.” Why was she saying this suddenly? Did she have magic healing powers with her quirk? Was she allergic to the ointment or something? Was she just being a pretentious little bitch like hawks?

             “You see bunnies have really good hearing.” Wait oh god. Did she hear me say that? Was that why-

             My mind quickly went to what I had said 5 minutes ago in the elevator.

-

             Under my breath, in the lowest tone possible, I quietly admitted to myself.

             “Hey, it’s not like I didn’t like it”

-

             “W-what do you mean by that Mirko” I said, and I could feel my face heating up. She noticed it too and chucked to herself. It was a deep rumbling sound that would have made me feel calm in any other situation.

             “Nothing, just thought you would want to know.” A grin was back on her face, flashing sharp canines, the last thing you would have expected on a rabbit quirk holder.

             “Hey, stop doing that you’re going to reopen the cut” I said and lightly punched her shoulder. I did not want all my work to go to waste. My hand went back up to the band aid on her face and my finger grazed the size of her lip.

             “My parents always kissed my boo boos (injuries) when I got hurt” Mirko said boldly, and my hand froze up next to her face. Was she implying. No. no no.

             I wasn’t going to kiss her. If It was on her hand maybe if she insisted but right under her lip… No (Y/N) pull yourself together.

             That cut was so close to her mouth and I could not I don’t. That would just be so embarrassing and I-

             “Hey (Y/NNNN), You spaced out a little bit” She teased.

             “N-no I-I can’t” Did she really have this effect on me? One second, I was bold and brash, but the second she calls me out on saying that I enjoyed having her top me. (If you are reading this fanfic this applies to you. Do not lie to yourself. We all want to be topped my Mirko).

             “Aww but how else will I get better” Her face tilted down towards me, and the slightest bit closer.

             “Just a little peck would make all the pain go away”

She was reading me like an open book. Pressing all my buttons. Everything I said she was right through. Oh she definitely deserved the punch.

             “I-“

             My voice stopped when I felt a light brush on my side next to the top of my hip bone. One of her hands was delicately just waiting there, barely making any movement. Maybe if I just leaned in, her fingertips would connect, trace gentle shapes in my side while-

             Both my hands were close to my chest. I was rubbing my fingertips together in a slight fidget though. All my anxiety was shown to her.

             Her other hand- her left hand- reached up towards my cheek, though she was not touching me, just like on my hip. She wouldn’t do a single thing till I did something first.

             With a tiny smile she remarked “I can hear your heartbeat.”

             “Why are you so scared?” She asked.

             Her nails contacted my hip and my check, though she still, wasn’t touching me.

             “Maybe you want me, to make the first move-“Her eyelids closed slightly while she looked down at me fondly.

             Each word I wanted to say did not come out. Because in my head, I was saying she was right.

[kindofcashton]

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 3  (Calum Hood AU)

BY THE TIME we got back to the house it was far past midnight, and none of us could walk straight, except maybe Calum.  He never seemed to show just how much he drank, as his movements weren’t as clumsy and uncontrolled as the rest of ours.

I had spent the night dancing and drinking overly sweet fruity concoctions.  Calum had disappeared from the bar, which was a welcome discovery as I hated the way he always looked at me those burning eyes.  I didn’t like how self conscious and nervous I was around him, so when he was nowhere to be seen I confidently ordered my fruity drinks and actually let loose for once.

He went right up to his room once we got home, but I went into the bathroom with Hannah to change and take all of our makeup off.  Peering into the mirror, I saw my eyeliner had smudged slightly and my lip gloss was practically gone.  My cheeks were flushed from alcohol and the heat of the club, my hair tousled and not as refined as it had been when we left.  In a way, I thought I looked hot, and even cracked a smile at my reflection.

Hannah caught this in the mirror and laughed, hooking an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a hug.

“We got this Scar, you and me.  This can be fun, I promise.”  She sounded so sincere, and I hoped some of her optimism spread to me.  I could use every bit I could get. 

I couldn’t believe just a month ago the two of us had been at school, our biggest worry being the next exam or which jock was going to hit on us in the dining hall.  My heart yearned for those times, when my future was set in stone and I knew what to expect.  I had dreams back then, dreams to help people with my career and make a positive change in someone’s life.  Studying psychology to become a social worker had been my goal for as long as I knew, and I was good at it.  My professors all told me I’d make a great counselor, and my grades reflected this.

And then, one by one, the pieces in my life began to fall apart.  My family never had much money to begin with, but my parents managed to send me to a decent college, with lots of loans of course.  I knew I’d need a job as soon as I graduated, but that over time the debt could be managed.  All of this changed when I got the phone call.  It was late at night, but I was up studying.  I had just spoken to my parents the night before for our weekly chat, and everything was fine.

How quickly those things can change.

The doctor was vague on the phone, or maybe I just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling me.  Didn’t want to comprehend it.  His words were simple, but strung together they made no sense.

What did he mean car accident?  Where were my parents even going?  How come the 18-wheeler that slammed into them didn’t stop?  Why were they the ones that got hurt, when the other driver walked away scratch free?

I knew the word coma, but I didn’t foresee all of its implications.  Brain bleed was mentioned too, as well as circling the drain.  All of these words and phrases jumbled up in my mind, until I snapped and asked what the hell he was talking about.

Needless to say, what little money we did have went towards the medical bills.  My dad died two days after the crash, the impact of the accident turning out to be too much stress on his body.  Before I’d even accepted he was gone my mom took a turn for the worse.  She hadn’t woken up after surgery, and would crash every other day.  I stopped counting the amount of times the doctors revived her, and even slept through a few of them.  

They asked what I wanted to do when she was finally pronounced brain dead.  What was I supposed to do?  A twenty-one year old college student, overwhelmed with work and the fresh death of my father, and I was asked to just unplug my mother?  Stupidly, but caught up in the petrifying stress of it all, I insisted they keep her alive.  This intensive care was expensive, and hemorrhaged every last dollar we had until I had bankers and lawyers knocking down my door.  The day I finally did say goodbye to my mother was the day my university told me I wouldn’t be able to stay if I didn’t pay the monthly fee.

Blinking rapidly, I was brought out of my nightmarish memories and back to the present.  Basically kicked out of college, with barely a cent to my name, Hannah was my lifeline.  We were quite the pair of misfits, as she had essentially flunked out of her classes and been dismissed by the principle.  The two of us made a pact to tell no one the truth, and come home like nothing happened.  I’d work to get my degree some other way, and she would try to figure out a different path.  Without her, I don’t think I would’ve survived.

“I’m gonna take a shower, unless you want to go first?” Hannah asked me, rubbing her alcohol-reddened eyes.  I shook my head, suppressing a yawn.

“I’m too exhausted, I think I’d fall asleep under the water.  I’ll take one in the morning.”

She gave me one last tight hug before I left the bathroom, holding my crumpled outfit in my hands as I crossed the hallway to my room.  The sleep shorts and oversized tee shirt I wore were a welcome change from the tight clothes, and I dumped them in the hamper before collapsing onto Michael’s bed and falling asleep within minutes.

- - - - -

I woke up to my head hammering.  This hangover was one of the worst I’d had in a while, I suppose because I hadn’t drank like that in a while.  It took all the effort I had to get out of bed and head to the shower.

Holding my bathrobe and shower supplies, I noticed the door was closed but the light wasn’t coming through the bottom, so I gave a quick knock.

As my fist collided with the wood, it suddenly swung open to reveal an angry looking Calum.  Everything in my hands fell to the floor with a clatter.  I bent down to pick them up hastily, glancing up at Calum with a frown.  His hair was wet and curly, sticking up at all angles.  A towel hung loosely from his waist, and in my half-conscious state my dreary eyes dragged down his glistening wet skin.  My stare was obvious, and it made a cruel smirk curl onto his lips.

“Morning.  You look great.”  

His comment stung, as I was sure I looked awful.  My hair was a mess, my eyes surely dark with circles and fatigue.  I sighed, and said in a tired voice, “Sorry, I was just going to take a shower.”  When I finally had all my things I stood straight up, still overwhelmed by Calum’s towering frame.

He snorted, and without another word pushed past me towards his room.  I was too jostled to react, instead just closing the door behind me and leaning back against it in defeat.  Would Calum and I ever find a common ground?

I pushed the dark-haired boy out of my mind as I turned on the water, twisting the nozzle to almost as hot as it went.  The droplets scorched my skin as I stood under the rain, washing my limp hair and exhaling in relief.  Hot showers reawakened my senses, and today I needed a boost.  Today I planned on finding a job, and I couldn’t be sleepy and hungover when meeting prospective bosses.

Climbing out of the shower into the steamy bathroom, I toweled off my damp hair and swiped a hand across the foggy mirror.  In the small strip I’d wiped away, I saw the slight bags under my eyes and a dull look in the green orbs.  I was almost glad I couldn’t see the rest of myself.

Tying off my robe, I exited the bathroom and went downstairs to get some breakfast.  Hannah was at the table reading a magazine, and Luke had his head in the fridge searching for something to eat.  Michael and Ashton had already left, and once again Calum was nowhere to be seen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Luke greeted her with a grin, leaning on the top of the fridge door with his forearm.  “You feeling the effects of your wild night out?”  Somehow when Luke teased me, it made me smile; the complete opposite reaction I had when Calum mocked me.

“Oh yeah, this headache is really fun.”  I instantly headed for the coffee, knowing some strong caffeine was just what I needed.

Hannah waved her magazine at Luke.  “If you think last night was wild for the two of us, think again.  We got into some crazy shit at school that you haven’t even seen yet.”  Luke put his hands up in defeat, and I shook my head and chuckled as I joined Hannah at the table.

“Oh yeah, because jello shots are really out of the box.”  I took a sip of the steaming coffee, not even caring that it burnt the tip of my tongue.

Hannah’s eyes tracked Luke behind us until he disappeared into the other room, upon which she pressed her palms to the table and sighed.

“Ashton must have asked me a million questions last night,” she hissed under her breath, and I set my mug down worriedly.

“About what?”  Even my whispered words wavered slightly.

“What do you think?  You, me, why we’re not at school right now when everybody else is.  And I know Ashton wouldn’t just ask me if the other guys hadn’t told him to, which means they’re dying to know too.”

I bit my lip, a thousand thoughts running through my head.  “What do they want to know?  I mean, we just met, I’m not gonna tell them my whole life story.”

Hannah nodded.  “I know, and I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of telling Ashton I flunked out.”  Her voice was thick with disappointment, and I reached across the table to give her hand a sympathetic pat.  I knew Hannah was secretly really embarrassed and ashamed of her grades.  Even though Ashton never went to college himself, Hannah wanted to prove she wasn’t an idiot, since he was always considered the smart one of the pair.  She also couldn’t face her parents, as they would surely throttle her if they found out she left school.

I sighed, and ran a nervous hand through my damp hair.  “Look, I have every intention of going back once I sort things out, and I’m sure if you can figure out a different school and just lie and say you transferred.”

She laughed darkly.  “Transferred to a community college?  Oh yeah, I’ll be a laughing stock to my family.”  Hannah shook her head, as if to clear these negative thoughts.  “Whatever, that’s not important right now.  But you’re sure you want to keep the stuff about your parents quiet?  No one would judge you, Scar, if anything they’d--”

“Pity me,” I interjected.  “They would pity me, and that is the last thing I want from the guys.  I want their respect first, and then maybe I’ll tell them.”

Hannah shrugged.  “Whatever you say, but it can’t be healthy to bottle it all up inside--”

“Bottle what up inside?”

Of course Calum strode in at this very moment.  He had changed into joggers and a black muscle tee with holes around the collar.  His hair had dried and was thick around his forehead.  He reached for the coffee and as he poured himself a cup, his mocking brown eyes watched us at the table.

“We’re talking about emotions and feelings, Calum, something you would never be able to understand,” Hannah fired back, causing him to scowl.

“Damn, ouch,” Luke laughed as he reentered.  “What a lovely morning this is shaping up to be.

The four of us ate in relative silence.  I was glad when Luke sat next to me so that Calum couldn’t.  He sat diagonal to me, eating the same frosted cereal as yesterday.  I was sick of the quiet in the room, and decided to speak up.

“I’m gonna go see about that job at the cafe,” I informed them.  “Never too soon to start earning money.”

Luke set his orange juice on the table.  “I would offer you a ride, but Mike and I share the station wagon and he’s already gone.  Same with Ashton.”

Hannah’s piercing blue eyes slid to Calum next to her, who hadn’t looked up.  When he realized we were waiting for him, he glared across the table.

“What, I’m supposed to jump at volunteering?”

I repressed a sigh.  I didn’t exactly want Calum to drive me, but clearly that was the simplest answer.  However, I wasn’t about to show him I relied on him and let him toy with this like he always did.  Instead, I shook my head.

“No, I don’t want a ride.  I think it’ll do me good to figure out the bus system.  I don’t ever wanna rely on any of you for a ride, you already do too much.”

Hannah and Luke nodded while Calum rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his cereal.  Straightening my posture, I refused to let his rudeness affect me.  I needed to be confident today, and someone like Calum knew just how to strip this away.

I left breakfast to get ready, opting for a nice pair of jeans and simple sweater with a jacket.  I liked looking put together and composed; it helped me feel that way on the inside.  

“Wish me luck,” I called at the front door, and I saw Luke give me a thumbs up from the kitchen.

“Go get ‘em, girl!” Hannah yelled.  Calum remained stoically silent.

There was a bus stop at the corner of the street, and I pulled up the schedule on my phone.  Hannah had given me the address, and I was pleased to see it wasn’t far at all.  God, I hope I get the job, I thought, chewing my lip.  It would make this stressful time that much easier.

The bus came and I took a seat close to the back, peering out the window and familiarizing myself with the area.  It was a great city, and a part of me could see settling down here.

No, the goal is college, I reminded myself.  This is meant to be extremely temporary.  And besides, no matter how much I liked the city it would always feel like I was borrowing it.  It belonged to Hannah and the guys, the same way the house did.  I would always be a guest here, would never feel like I was really meant to stay.

The cafe was earthy and quaint, and upon stepping through the door I was hit by a waft of roasted coffee.  There was in fact a hiring sign outside, with quite a few exclamation marks, which would hopefully work in my favor.

I approached the counter confidently.  “Hi, I heard you guys were hiring and was wondering if I could fill out an application?”

The worker looked relieved once I asked.  He was around my age, with black earrings and a nose ring.  His name tag read Roger.  “Thank god.  Mack was convinced we’d never find an applicant.  Hold on, I’ll get him for you now.”

I smiled, pleasantly surprised at his enthusiastic answer.  A minute passed, and Roger returned with an older man, who thankfully didn’t look too intimidating.  He had graying hair and a bushy mustache, and smelled strongly off baking scones.

“You’re here about the job?”  He got straight to the point, and I smiled as I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Yes, absolutely.  I have my resume right here, and was just hoping to get an interview today, whatever you wanted.”

Mack waved his hand dismissively.  “Lemme see the resume.”  I reached into my bag and pulled it out, handing it over with a breathless grin.

“I’m still enrolled in college,” I said quickly, embellishing my story slightly.  “I’m earning credits for my degree from home right now.”  I hoped the explanation sounded mature and not like an excuse I was desperately trying to push.

Mack studied the paper in a matter of seconds, and slapped it on the counter.  Roger was grinning behind him, arms folded.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Mack started, and I nodded.  “I really need the help right now.  Normally, I’d screen a few applicants and worry about experience and whatnot, but I just don’t have the time.  So how about I give you a two week test run, and if I think you’re a good fit I’ll hire you officially?”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping to the floor.  How is it this easy? I thought, thinking surely there must be a catch.  Glancing around, I saw that the cafe was well attended and pretty nice overall, which was encouraging.  The only downside to Mack’s offer was the lack of pay for two weeks, but that was honestly fair with such an easy application process.

“Deal,” I said, extending my hand for a shake.  Mack smiles hugely and shook my hand, eyes twinkling.

“You just saved me an awful lotta stress, Scarlett,” he said.  “I really hope you’re the one for the job.”

I left after thanking him again profusely, and had to hold in a squeal.  I called Hannah immediately to gush about my success, and she said we had to celebrate.  We spent the day window shopping and trying on expensive clothes we’d never buy, but she made me swear I’d buy a tight cream colored dress once I got my first paycheck.  Hannah insisted it made me look like a million bucks, and I had to admit I liked that idea.

By the time we got home it was well after dinner and the guys had disbanded.  Michael and Luke texted saying they were with some friends getting a drink, and with Calum’s missing mustang I assumed he was with them.  Hannah got a surprise call from her parents once we walked through the door and hastily ran downstairs to take it.  A few times I heard her raise her voice to a yell, and I knew they must have found out about her leaving school.

Poor Hannah, I thought as I brushed my teeth, staring into the mirror.  I looked radically different from this morning; though I still had on an oversized tee shirt and shorts, my eyes were sparking with confidence and exuberance at getting a job, and the hangover had finally cleared along with the dark circles.  My cheery mood continued as I strolled downstairs, starving as I decided to make a simple sandwich and catch up on some reading.

The yelling stopped and I assumed Hannah had gone to bed, so I was peacefully alone in the kitchen with my book.  I was so engrossed in it I barely heard the front door open.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t ignore Calum swaggering into the kitchen to grab a beer, and I swallowed a bite of my sandwich nervously.

“Hey,” I said tentatively, praying he wouldn’t be mean for once.  Something was off about his appearance; his tee shirt was wrinkled and his belt wasn’t fully done on his jeans.  His hair was super messy and his eyes were glazed, and I spotted a dark mark on his neck.

Oh.

“Why are you still awake?  It’s like 3am.”  He flipped open his beer and took a swig, taking in my appearance at the table.

I hugged my knee closer to my chest and shrugged, a few pieces of hair escaping my bun to block my eyes.  “Not really tired.”

He met my eyes, and I tried to hide the fact that I knew what he’d just come home from.  He didn’t seem as cocky as normal, his hook-up actually subduing his sharp attitude.  I still felt wildly uncomfortable under his close brown gaze though, and it took everything in me not to shy away.

Finally, he broke the stare to take another sip of beer.  “Goodnight, Scarlett,” he said before disappearing upstairs, and I stayed rooted to the spot in shock for a few moments more.

I don’t know what shocked me more; his lack of cruel comments or the fact that he’d actually used my name for the first time.

[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace- Chapter 2

(I cant be bothered to switch to my pc to create a read more link so bam, whole thing right here.)

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Flight from Grace - Chapter 2: Where's my coffee?

I was cold.

The thought that being cold was somehow wrong is what woke me. I was cold and I shouldn’t be for some reason. The more aware of that I became, the more I realized how uncomfortable it was. I was laying on something that had hard lumps in the most inconvenient of places and wriggling didn’t really change that, and only served to make my irritation at the discomfort more intrusive on my sleep-muddled thoughts, forcing them to become more focused and conscious, which at the moment, I very much didn’t want to be. I wanted to slide back under the blissful unawareness of sleep, to return to the feeling of the dream I couldn’t quite remember since it was so much more preferable to whatever was scratching my face and poking me in the side. 

I snorted my displeasure at the intrusion of conscious reality and tried to turn over more vigorously, yanking at whatever passed for a blanket covering my head in annoyance. That only made me more annoyed; whatever was covering me smelled...bad. Just all the smells that make you wrinkle your nose and hold your breath til they pass rolled into one rotting sushi roll of stinkiness, which definitely didn't fit with whatever I was previously dreaming. 

It was no use. Sleep had slipped through my grasp like a toddler grabbing a bowl of jello. Both are disgusting- too sticky and jiggly. So much for waking up in a good mood.

Sadly, this awareness of stinky scratchiness and lumpy surface forced my brain to start working. Some days, I hate it when it does that. Why can’t it just be quiet and let me float along like a marshmallow? Ah well. 

Oh shit. 

Shit shit shit. I just remembered why the hell my nose was being violated. My eyes snapped open, looking for the reason I was no longer warm- Grace. Nope. Can you frown with just your nose? My face seemed determined to find out. 

I jumped up, snapping the cover off and shot a quick look around the empty room. Nothing. What the hell? Where’d she go? Great. First I stumble across the first mortal who could look me in the eye without devolving into schizophrenia, and then I lose her just by falling asleep. Of freakin course I do. Goddamn sleep and it's irresistible siren's call. And god damn whatever that smell was and whoever put it there.

As I was sitting there in a lump of twisted up, stained moving blanket, a small sound from behind the crumbling wall opposite me caught my attention, only to reveal Grace softly coming around from behind it, straightening her black t-shirt. She noticed me sitting up, paused for a moment mid shuffle, and started giggling. What now?

“Well darlin’, aren’t you just the most hilarious bird’s nest of a mess in the mornin'!” Grace couldn’t help but giggle at what she saw sitting in a pile on the discarded mattress in the corner. 

My hand went to my hair. Oh. Ok, I had to give her that one. It was pretty bad. 

I snorted a dry laugh too. “Yeah, this hair is pretty shocking, even to me. Probably not quite what you were expecting.”

“Sugar, I don’t know what to expect with you, now or ever. We had a rough night; don’t worry about the hair though, it’s kinda cute.”

Well that was the understatement of the year. I haven’t had a night that rough in a very long time. Not since...well that doesn’t matter right now. 

“But,” Grace started, slowly moving closer, “much as I hate to say it this way, we need to talk about last night.”

I sighed. Gods, why do I keep doing that? Yeah, we did. There was a lot. A lot that I didn’t have answers for to be honest, but still, things that needed to be discussed. I owed her that much at least. Hell, I owed me that much.

“Yeah, we do.”

“So, you wanna start, or should I?”

I finally managed to look her in the eyes again. “You’ve probably got more questions than I do right now, so you start and I’ll see if I can clear things up a little. Well, I hope I can.”

Grace took a slow, deep breath. “Alright, let’s start with the simple stuff- what the hell happened at the bar?”

That's her idea of leading with the simple stuff? What happened to 'sleep good?' or 'where the fuck are we?' or even better, 'do you want some coffee?' So much for simple. To be fair though, that one was easier than what I thought she was going to lead with. I wish there was coffee. Ha, what was I thinking, not like this run down warehouse was the Ramada. Ha, the Ramada Hovel had a nice ring to it. Probably gets rated not in stars but in rats. Deep breath.

“I had to get you out of a very dangerous situation as fast as I possibly could. I should’ve realized what was about to happen sooner than I did, but I was kind of distracted at the time, and the drinks probably weren’t helping at all either.”

“Ya don't say?" Grace's eyebrows curled mockingly.  "So, what was that thing chasin' us? Why was it chasin' us? Was it chasin' me? Or you? Or both of us? How’d it follow us? What was it that freaked you out about me? Are you still freakin' out? Am I freakin' out right now? Ok, yeah, I think I’m freakin' out a little bit right now and I’m starting to babble again, and I don’t know what’s going on and…”

“Grace!”

She stopped long enough to look at me. I got up, took her hand, and turned her slightly. “Please sit for a minute; just breathe. I’ll do my best to explain as much as I know, because I’m kind of freaking out a little myself.”

That seemed to work. Enough anyway. Deep breath again. I’ve only ever talked to one other person about this in all these years, and they had already known enough that I didn’t have to go over the hard stuff I was about to now. Sweet Mikhail I wished I had a whiskey sour right now. This was definitely a job for alcohol; much as I loved the stuff, coffee was a little to weak for this situation. Why was I so nervous? That was a question I didn’t even want to consider the answer to right this second. Focus, genius. 

“Ok, this is going to all sound a little weird, probably unbelievable, but I swear to you, it’s the truth as I know it. 

“The thing chasing us from the bar was a gatekeeper of sorts. It’s job is to hunt down the things that poke holes in the separation between this mortal plane of existence and others.”

She was looking skeptical, but at least she was still listening. 

“As for why it was chasing us, well, it probably thought I was the one poking holes in reality.”

“You? Why?” She looked curiously concerned. 

“Because…” I trailed off, not able to look at her any longer. Neglected as it was, at least the floorboards didn't judge. They constrained themselves to silent accusation like any self-respecting flooring should. Leave the judgement to ceilings. “Because I’m not what you think I am. You think I’m a regular old ordinary person like you. And I kind of am, but not really. I’m not even supposed to be here. I think.”

“Hunh? Whadd’ya mean you’re not like me?”

Deep breath again. Breathing is good for you, right? “Ok, so here goes. You know how people believe in spirits, ghosts, angels, demons, goblins, that sort of thing?” She nodded. “Well, all that stuff is actually real. They’ve always existed in one form or another here in the mortal realm, but we’re not actually from here like you are.”

“We? You said ‘we’, right?”

“Yeah. Here’s where it gets a little sketchy for me, and why I was so surprised at how you were looking at me last night. How you’re looking at me right now.”

“I’m listenin'.” Grace was a little more withdrawn than I was used to seeing her, but she wasn’t jumping up and running away. 

“Yeah. We. Me, specifically. I’m not mortal. Not human. I think. Pretty sure anyway, it’s all kind of fuzzy when I try to remember.”

“Soooo...you’re what, some kind of ghost? How come I can touch you then?”

“No, no, not a ghost. As far as I can tell, I’m some kind of what you would call an angel or a demon, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know which. All I know is that if I’m here in the mortal realm, I’m not where I should be; just this nagging feeling I'm from...somewhere...that's not, here. And I’ve been here for a long time and I’m still not any closer to figuring out where I’m originally from, but I do know that there’s others like me here. I don’t come across them very often, but there’s more than just me.

“You asked me why that thing was chasing us too; I think that somehow, I got noticed, that it knew I  wasn’t supposed to be here, something that was triggered when you looked at me.”

“Hold up, so this giant dog catfish just blew up my bar and chased us half across the city because you’re like an illegal immigrant or somethin'?”

That made me laugh. “Something like that. Guess my green card ran out.”

“But why would me looking at you trigger something like that? Like you’re gorgeous and all, but not like ‘tear a hole in the space-time continuum gorgeous’. No offence.”

“No, I’m right there with you on that!” Did she just call me gorgeous? And were those butterflies in my stomach or was I just hungry? Or did she just insult my looks? I mean, I've never been like, obsessed over it, but I was pretty sure I was better looking than your average bridge troll. Well, maybe not this morning, but still. Shut up brain. You too stomach. Heart, don’t even start. 

“So you said it happened when I saw what I did in your eyes. But I didn’t really see anythin'! Wait, what should I have seen?” 

“So you remember that douchecreep that hit on me?” She nodded again. “Well, he saw what most people see when they look into my eyes- an unfiltered glimpse into the expanse of eternity, which usually makes a mortal’s mind crumble. It's kinda how I figured I wasn't from around here. They’re just not equipped to handle trying to comprehend the depth of infinity, so it usually sends them plummeting off the deep end of crazy. Some survive. A lot don't.

“Survive? Like, seeing 'infinity in your eyes' kills people? What the fuck! So what’s different about me? Why am I not dead, or crazy? Wait, unless I’m already crazy.” She laughed a little as she stood up and slowly started pacing. 

“No, you’re not crazy. Well, at least not crazy caused by me. You sound a lot more coherent than a bowl of jello, so you're good." What was it with me and jello today? Kinda how my brain feels I guess.

“Well that’s a relief! I think.” Grace’s shoulders seemed to relax a little. “It’s a little hard to believe; I mean right now, all I see is what I saw last night- just normal, green eyes. No ‘depths of eternal damnation’ or anythin' like that. I mean if I hadn’t seen what I did, and if I’m honest, I’m starting to wonder if I actually saw what I think I did. You sittin' here in front of me in a place that is very definitely not my appartment is the only thing keepin’ me even slightly convinced that you’re not completely bat-shit and that I’m just hallucinating.”

“Well, the jury’s still out on how sane I am but yeah, you saw what you thought you did.”

“My nana would flip her shit to hear all this talk of angels and spiritual stuff. She lived for this kind of thing.”

“So you believe me?” Maybe this was going to be better than I was first thinking.

“Let’s just say I’m still making up my mind; the fact that you’re hands-down the most interestin' person I’ve met since I left home is holdin' my attention at least.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“But this is all a bit much, if I’m to believe you. I mean, God an' angels an'  the devil are all just things my nana an' her old church friends talk about. And I sure as hell never heard anythin' about them walkin' into bars and riding motorcycles like Evil Knevil!” She was starting to breathe faster, heavier again. Here it comes.

“But some giant catfish starts blowing things up an' tryin’a eat me, an’ you’re sittin’ here as big as life, still smellin’ like korean barbecue- which makes me think that that all wasn’t just a bizarre dream- tellin’ me that it was some kind of demonic golden retreiver chasin’ us all over town, an' that there’s a heaven an' a hell, an' you’re somethin’ like what used to show up in the books they taught me from in Sunday school that accidentally makes people lose their minds if they look you in the eye, but I don’t see that which is somehow a problem, and,” she was breathing kind of heavily now, hand on her side as she walked a few steps back and forth in front of where I was still sitting on the edge of the ratty mattress. 

“Whoa now, I think you might be hyperventilating,” I reached out a little in concern.

“No I’m not hyperventilating, I’m havin’ a existential panic attack! I’m tryin'a understand everythin' you’ve just said, an' at the same time, tryin'a  figure out how I got swept up in all this mess, an' if it even is a mess, and if it is, if it's a mess I even believe in!” Her eyes were looking a little unfocused now. Something was wrong. Like more wrong than how wrong things were already. You know what I mean. Wronger than wrong. Different wrong.

“You don’t look so good.” Apparently it’s a day for understatements. If there was a world record for them, I was probably going to break it by sundown.

“Really? I don’t look so good? This is all just a bit much, y’know, and now I’m the one who isn’t ok? Ya think?” Damn, she really was panicking now. I guess I didn’t have her figured out just yet. 

“Yeah, um, you should probably sit down,” I got up and put my hand on her shoulder to guide her back over to the bed, insisting by touch even though she flinched. Why did that make me sad?

“Sit? I can’t sit right now! I’m tryin’a….whoa.” Grace’s eyes unfocused as she grabbed my arms to keep from falling. “Um, what���s going...on?”

Her eyes rolled back a little as her legs gave out from under her. She was heavier than she looked- good thing I’d gotten her closer to the mattress so she could collapse on to it as she drug me down with her, still holding my arm tightly. 

“Grace? Grace!” She didn’t respond as I shook her, her breathing rapid and short. Fuck.

That’s when I noticed. Her shirt had ridden up when she flopped prone on the bed, revealing her midriff and the finger-long scratch just below her left ribs. Shit. Of course it was glowing. Somehow, during our escape, she must have gotten grazed. Didn’t look like a serious wound, but even though I didn’t know much about the thing that had chased us, I knew even a scratch was bad news. Really bad news. Today was just packaging itself up and express shipping itself straight to hell.

“Fuck, what do I do now!” Saying it out loud didn’t make the answers come any faster than when I was thinking it. 

Light. I needed light. I couln’t see well enough to tell if what looked like a scratch was actually worse than that. I ran across and tore the tarp off the big industrial window, letting the sunlight pour through the loft, dust motes swirling and sparkling like being caught in a snowglobe. Kind of a shitty snowglobe if you ask me. 

The wound’s glow faded in the brightness, and on closer look, it didn’t seem like it was any deeper than just a scratch, but from the look of the blue and red spider-veining spreading out from the small cut, it didn’t need to be. Those veins of virulent red and sickly blue were climbing up under her chest, obscured by her shirt, and thicker ones winding down below the waistband of her black jeans. Dammit. 

Sweet Mikhail, I needed some luck. 

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Story tag list

@random-with-garlic @a-dinosaurs-left-phgkneecap @flower-in-the-ashes @nixabee @luvnaught @pens-swords-stuff @alice-and-cheshire-cat @humans-are-seriously-weird @flying-f1shsticks @neil-gaiman @glumshoe @lykanyouko @kaylewiswrites @just-a-bit-paranoid @thatsmybluefondue @violet-galaxies @biggest-gaudiest-patronuses @midnight-spectrum-again @slytherinlovespuff @friendofcybermen @hemi528i @mirbisduschoen @khelladon @walkin-in-the-cosmos

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message and your wish is my command. 

[starlight-drive-in]

Saeyoung Choi Week - Day 4: Nostalgia

This fic takes place while Saeran is in the hospital after Mint Eye in during the secret endings. I imagine this time time would have been pretty hard on Seven so I wanted to portray that while also giving him a sliver of hope. Hope you enjoy!

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Saeyoung pulls into the hospital’s parking garage for what feels like the 100th time. He feels like he almost lives here. He was here just 10 hours ago but he needed a shower and MC had made sure he’d at least slept in his own bed for a few hours and ate something, not from a vending machine or food court. She was too good to him, too good for him but she had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t going anywhere. Even with the whirlwind that their relationship had been so far, she was his rock. She didn’t deserve to have her new boyfriend gone almost all day every day, visiting his brother who undoubtedly didn't even want to see him. Nonetheless, she stays, he'll never be able to repay her. 

He turns off the ignition and gets out, triple checks his baby is locked. He purposely parked in a deserted area of the garage under a camera so that he can check on it throughout the day. After all, there isn't usually much to do after Saeran’s gotten tired of screaming at him or attempting to murder him. Not that he cares, if it makes Saeran feel better it’s worth it. It’s what he deserves anyway for trusting V and Rika with the only real family he had ever had. 

He drops his keys in his pocket as he walks through the sliding, tempered glass doors into the lobby of the hospital’s psychiatric department.

“Good Morning Mr. Choi” The receptionist greets him brightly, but with a sympathetic look on her face. “Ready to give it another shot already?”

He gives her the best smile he can, “You know me Eunju, I’m a glutton for punishment, and please, Saeyoung is fine.” His own name still feels foreign on his lips, but he and Jumin are paying enough hush money to this hospital and its employees, he should be safe to use it. 

He signs in waits to be buzzed in through the thick metal doors. He hates this place. He knows his brother hates it too. Then again he’s not really sure what his brother doesn’t hate, or who he is at all. 

Saeyoung’s chest tightens as he approaches his brother’s door. It has a one-way mirror on it so that people outside can observe the room without being seen. He pauses and peers through the glass at his other half. 

Saeran appears to be sleeping, in fact, this is probably the most peaceful he’s seen him since they got him out of Mint Eye. Saeyoung smiles briefly before he hears someone approach behind him. 

“We had to sedate him last night, again.” Dr. Park says grimly. 

Saeyoung’s smile fades quickly. “Ah. I see.”

“He should be out for a while, but you can go in if you want. Maybe spend time with him where he’s not trying to hurt himself, or the people around him” The doctor says in a short tone. 

“Hah, yea.” Is all he can say, guilt weighing hard on him once again. This is his fault. It’s all his fault. 

“Fair warning, if he does wake up the drugs may have him a little… loopy.”

He opens the door slowly, as to not wake Saeran. If that's even possible. Saeyoung hates the idea of more drugs being pumped through his brother’s body but he has to believe there was no other choice. 

He quietly moves a chair over to his brother’s bedside and sits, leaning forward on his elbows as he studies the man. 

His skin is so pale, almost translucent. His checks are unhealthily gaunt. Saeran had never had enough to eat and it was unbearably noticeable. It would seem he was starving while Saeyoung stuffed his face with soda and chips and whatever else he could find. Not healthy, but food is food. Even now Saeran was denying food from the hospital, he refused to eat and so he was on a feeding tube whenever the hospital could manage to prevent him from ripping it out. Guilt wells up in Saeyoung again, he’s pretty sure it's made a permanent home in his chest. 

He sits there, just watching his brother for a while, he’s not sure how long really. He watches as a strand of white and pink-ish hair falls unto his brother's nose, twitching silently with each breath. Impulsively, Saeyoung reaches out and brushes the hair back on Saeran's head. 

Saerans eye’s open, just a slit. Saeyoung quickly sits back down, preparing for the outburst of insults about to be thrown at him. 

“Saeyoung?” Saeran croaks out, voice heavily laden with sleep. 

Saeyoung’s eyes open wide as he stares in disbelief at the younger twin. He hasn’t called him anything except “The Traitor” and other more colorful names since they found him. 

“It’s me, Saeran. I’m here” Saeyoung responds, trying his damndest to not get his hopes up.  

“You’re back.” His brother mutters, a small smile gracing his face. A smile Saeyoung hasn't seen in years. It’s not one of the maniacal smiles Saeyoung has seen on him through his bits of taunting laughter, no. This is a smile he used to see every day. The one Saeran would give him when he returned from errand runs, or when Saeyoung would take him outside to see the sky without their mother knowing. The one that graced his face when he’d share snacks he’d bring home after Mass, or the first time they shared popsicles together. 

Saeyoung doesn't even realize he’s crying until he feels a warm drop fall on his wrist. He quickly pushes up his glasses and wipes his face on his t-shirt. At this moment He feels a longing. Longing for a time long past. A time that admittedly wasn't great. No, not by any definition of the word but one thing was great - their relationship. Their brotherly bond. The feeling of nostalgia is not such a familiar one to Saeyoung, there isn't much in his past he yearns for. But he yearns for their relationship to be repaired so much it hurts. “Yea, I'm back.”

“Saeyoung, I’m so hungry.” Saeran mutters, punctuated with a small groan. 

Saeyoung pats his pockets in search of a small snack, sometimes MC hands him fruit snack packages or granola bars on his way out the door but alas, they are empty. 

“I can go get you something real quick.” He offers

Saeran’s face twists up into a grimace just briefly. “P-promise you'll come right back?”

He’s letting me make promises? Saeyoung thinks to himself “I promise, I’ll be right back.”

Saeyoung darts out of the room and looks down both ends of the hallway. Down the corridor, he spots a food cart, momentarily unattended. He walks casually by and glances into the room, the Dietary Aide seems to be in a long-winded discussion with an elderly patient. Perfect He thinks. Stealthily he raises the cover over one of the food trays spotting a jello cup and a roll on a plate, two things he can grab quickly. Stealing food for Saeran? Yea, this definitely feels nostalgic, and it feels good. He pockets both items and returns to his brother’s room. 

“Saeyoung?” Saeran asks again, the same tone of disbelief in his voice as before.

“Hey, I’m back, just like I said. I’ve got bread and jello. Do you like jello?”

“Mhm, is sweet.” Is all his brother says as he actually sits up. 

Saeyoung can barely contain his excitement and he hands his brother the small roll. 

“Just like when we were kids right?” Saeyoung says. 

Saeran takes the roll and studies it for a second, sniffs it. “This. It’s ok to eat right? There's nothing in it?”

Saeyoung doesn't exactly know where that idea came from, isn’t exactly sure he wants to know either. “Yea, It’s all good. I can take a bite first if it will make you feel better?” he offers in earnest.

“S’ok, I trust you.” The younger twin responds, biting into the roll and chewing slowly.

You do?! Saeyoung isn’t sure what has happened to his brother but this feels like a completely different person then he’s seen for the past few weeks. 

Saeran finishes his roll and grabs the jello, making quick work of the sugary gelatin before laying back in his bed. He closes his eyes. “So sleepy” he mumbles out. 

“Go to sleep then. You’re safe here.”

“You’ll stay?” Saeran says, cracking one eye the older twin. 

“Of course. I’ll never give up on you.”

His brother hums in response before nodding off. 

Saeyoung isn’t sure if this ‘break’ was a side effect of the drug, just a fluke, or something else but in any event, he’s filled with a new hope. Maybe Saeran will wake up similarly later? He doesn't want to get ahead of himself. But. If it happened once, it can happen again, right? 

In the silence of the hospital room with his brother fast asleep in the bed next to him, he prays. He prays for Saeran, just as he has every day for the past ten years.

[nowthenlove-blog]

No. 5: Beers, Beets and Baby Van McCann

summary: Eighteen year old Van meets stubborn y/n in a bar and his kindness breaks through to you just a little. How come you only ever bump into him with a drink in hand?

a/n: Yes, yes that is an office reference. word count: 2000 words

My Masterlist is here!

.....

You called every single person you could think of and turns out, not many people want to get heavy drunk on a Tuesday night. Fair enough, most of your friends had 9 - 5's and the ones that didn't were busy. That wasn't going to stop you though, you had decided you were getting a drink, and you were getting that drink. 

You were only recently eighteen, meaning you no longer had to linger at a table whilst your friends bought you drinks. Finally, you could get them yourself. Tonight you chose beer. It felt weird to drink cocktails by yourself, cocktails are drink with friends in your mind. Maybe that was just from your past experiences. Either way, beer was a comfortable choice.

'Drinking alone love?'

You turned around expecting some creepy middle aged man who had spotted you by yourself and no doubt thought that if he bought you a couple drinks he could cop a feel. You turned around ready to tell him where to shove it. You were wrong. 

It was a man, but barely, he looked a similar age to you, but more importantly he looked sweet. He had a beer in hand and was looking at you eagerly in response. 

'Er, yeah. You're welcome to join if you want?' You weren't worried about inviting him to sit down, the boy looked less creepy and more lost puppy. He took the stool next to you placing his drink down onto the bar spilling a little. 

'Oh shit,' he was about to wipe the mess up with his sleeve but you stopped him, instead handing him a napkin from the side. 'Thanks love, bit clumsy sometimes.' His hair was fluffy and his clothes were all black, ripped jeans clung to his skinny legs and a shiny necklace drew your attention. He noticed you looking at it. 

'Like it? It was a gift for my 18th birthday, never take it off. I'm Van by the way.' The way he smiled at you reinforced your feelings of comfort around him. 

'Y/n, it was a good present idea, something you'll have forever you know, my mum did that. Not a necklace, but still.' 

'What did she get you?'

'A guitar, I already had one, but this ones so much better.' 

'You play? No way! I'm in a band, we're not big yet but we're gonna get there soon. I can just feel it.'

This was how the night went on, more and more drinks were consumed, you even managed to convince Van to do a couple shots with you. You could feel the alcohol starting to hit you, Van said he felt it too, but he did not slow down. 

You didn't leave until not long after one, helping Van out into the night, making it only to the end of the street before Van wanted to stop. 

'Need a cig, need a- need a cig.' His words were beginning to become altered by the alcohol, coming out a little jumbled. You had to help him light one and stole one to have yourself. As you stood and smoked, Van chatted, somewhere along the way asking for your number, 'In case he ever needed a drinking buddy'. 

Y'know darlin', I think you- you're an angel, are you an angel? Think you fell from heaven.' The boy was sweet, you knew he had a soft thing for you, but it took for him to be almost drunk to even make an attempt at flirting. 

'You're right Van, I am an angel, probably important for you to bear in mind that so was Lucifer though.' 

He laughed. 'Lucifer, good cat name.'

'You know that's the name of the devil right?'

'Oh shit yeah, bad cat name.'

'Very bad. Here listen, where do you live? Is it walking distance or am I calling you a taxi?' You could tell your question made him think. 

'Could walk it, need to take you back first, isn't that the right thing to do? Boy walks girl home?' 

'No offence Van but I worry that you'd never make it home without me, find you tomorrow in some gutter.' 

As you started to walk back you were beginning to wonder whether or not it had been smart to believe Van about his home being in walking distance. Drunk people are not always right. The fresh air was beginning to somewhat sober Van up, but he was still partially intoxicated. 

He was holding your hand and swinging your arm, talking way too loud but nonetheless making you laugh. 'Think me and you are connected. Like tonight was fate or something'. 

'Yeah? You believe in all that Van? Figures.' Van then burst into conversation about fate and soulmates and how there is no such thing as a coincidence. Lucky for you it wasn't too much further to Van's home, you walked him all the way to the door, the last thing you wanted was for him to trip and fall now. He stopped and looked at you, you were half expecting a speech from him about tonight and you. But he didn't, he stayed quiet looking at you for a second before kissing you softly. He pulled away after a second and went silent once again. It was your turn, you leaned up and kissed him again, lasting only a second more before pulling away. 

'Night Y/n.' You watched him stumble inside and left him to it, turning back down the street and beginning to make your way home. .....

You had hoped that by the next day you would've had a text from Van, just one message, but nothing. You worried that he didn't want to see you again, or worse he couldn't remember last night at all. That he drank so much, he forgot you even existed. 

You couldn't lie you were a little mad, you really enjoyed last night. It was fun to have him to drink with, and in all honesty you were hoping for it to happen again. You'd get it over though. The soft boy in the dirty bar would only be a vague memory in no time. 

A little less than a week had past since that night and you found yourself thinking of him more and more, he however clearly hadn't thought of you once as your phone was still lacking his message. You needed to get him out of your head, at the very least get hung up on somebody else. Somebody it wasn't as painful to think about. Somebody a little less Van. 

A party was what you needed. Surrounded by friends, alcohol and music was the best way to distract yourself; it was the only way you knew how to distract yourself. It didn't take much to convince people to come, Saturday night, your place, free alcohol. Your parties were beginning to get a bit of reputation so it was a rare event for someone to turn an invitation down.

Like usual your party had grown quickly out of hand, as people began to arrive, you realised you recognised less and less of these people. You didn't mind though, many of them came bearing food and drinks. You cared even less after a couple of drinks were in you, jello shots did the world of good. 

You found yourself talking to two lads about who would win in a fight, a polar bear, or the statue of liberty. They were clearly stoned, but they were funny. They couldn't come to an agreement on who would win, them both arguing their cases pretty well. 

'Hang on,' the tall one said, he reached behind you and tapped his friend, 'Hey Van what'd'you think?' 

Van. 

How many people in the world could be called that? 

You turned around and there he was, the soft boy from the dirty bar. A lot less tipsy than the last time you saw him. His eyes were glazed, no doubt stoned, but he recognised you. 

'Y/n.'

'Listen lads, I'll be back, Y/n, hi. Outside?' He was watching your every move and released a sigh of relief when you agreed. 

It was much colder than the last time you were outside with him, the wind was biting at your skin. 

'You didn't reply to any of my messages.' You couldn't believe him, who lies about texting someone? 

'Maybe that's because you didn't text me, not bothered though mate, just shared a couple drinks together that's all.' He looked hurt by what you said, but also confused. 

He showed you his phone, and all the messages he had sent to a number with your name. You showed him yours, and the lack of texts you has recieved. 'Shit,' you looked at his phone again, your number was wrong. Guess you really can't trust drunk people to be right. 

'I thought there was chemistry y/n, I panicked a bit when you didn't text me back. I mean now I know and everything- but.' You cut him off, you could feel your buzz from the alcohol beginning to fade. 

'Listen, no harm. I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a party going on inside and I had plans to get shitfaced. What'd'ya say? Care to join me?' This time you both got drunk, much more drunk, so much so, you had to step outside to get fresh air; prevent yourself from throwing up. Van was laughing at your current state. Hunched on the floor, clinging to the drainpipe, feeling as if someone was shaking the world like a snow-globe. 

'I bet- I- I bet we'd get on sober y'know?' Van words took a moment to sink in, your brain was working much slower than normal. 

'Think we would too, Fuck listen, it's no good Van. I need to sleep this off.' Van helped you up, himself struggling to say straight. Luckily for you as the party continued, your bedroom had remained empty. Van locked your room door once you were inside. Privacy. Your drunk logic was that it would be too much to share a bed with Van, but he needed some place to stay. You decided it would be okay if you slept at the other end, feet at the headboard. Then it wouldn't be as bad. 

The sun woke you, glaring through the curtains. You felt rough. Painfully rough, but sober. Van was still by your side, fast asleep. You took this time to brush your teeth, getting a spare toothbrush out for Van, you knew he'd need one. You splashed water on your face, a half-hearted attempt to remove your makeup and ran a brush through your hair. You looked more alive already. 

'Van', 'Van', 'VAN', you shook his shoulder forcefully, enough to eventually wake him up. You waved a green plastic toothbrush in front of him, which he took before covering his eyes from the light. 

'I know, brutal right.' He laughed, 'Fancy getting breakfast somewhere?' .....

Van ordered a fry up and tea, yourself bacon pancakes and a hot chocolate. You were starving. Both of you were trying to piece together last nights events. You got most in the end, there was a couple black spots in the timeline but overall you did good. 

'Van, are you sober?' he looked at you confused, but nodded all the same. 

'Finger on nose.'

'What?'

'Finger on nose!' He followed your instruction and put his finger on his nose, you did the same, both of you not missing. 

'I think we're both sober,' you said. It took a couple moments for Van to catch up. 

'Yeah, yeah we are. Hello.'

'Hello,' you giggled, Van did too. 'Look at us, I guess we can get along sober.' 'I'm glad, maybe it's a sign. We should do this more. Sober, I mean. Well we can drink sometimes. I just don't want to forget any time spent with you. I like you too much.'

'I like you too.'

.....

Have a request? Send it in here! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is always appreciated!

[cometocourtyou]

untitled [cardinal fic]

since it’s pride month, i decided i was going to try and do short fluffy pieces of lgbtq+ characters. danielle sargeant is from a fic i’m currently working on. she’s a trans woman who first runs into lise at church before meeting her again at a gay bar.

cw for discussion of reproductive decisions and options for this piece. full disclosure: i’m afab and most of the time, identify as female

"Mama."

Lise looks up from her work sharply at the sound of her son's voice. Finds him standing in front of her desk, fidgeting.

"Âllo, mon ange," she smiles at Sylvain, who breaks into a broad grin.

"Maman says it's time for dinner," the little boy declares and Lise feels her eyes widen in surprise. Looks over at the alarm on her desk. Surely enough, it's half past six. Time for dinner and then bedtime, for their child.

"Alright," she nods and closes the file. Shuts her laptop and gets up, offering her hand to Sylvain. Who eyes it, before taking it. Lise pauses and bends down to pick him up, managing to bring a huge smile to her son's face. He lets out a shrill laugh when she tosses him into the air and blows a raspberry on his cheek. Sylvain wraps his arms around her neck and holds on tightly, making her inhale his soft scent before she starts walking down the hallway.

"I was about to come find you," Danielle says when Lise enters with Sylvain balanced on her hip. He's getting too big for this, she thinks. "I was afraid he'd managed to get himself lost."

"No, he found me alright," Lise shakes her head and places Sylvain on his chair, before leaning over to brush her lips over Danielle's.

"This smells wonderful," she declares as she sits down herself.

"Thanks," Danielle smiles, ruffling their son's thick curls. He's inherited both Danielle's curls, and Lise's brown hair. She keeps thinking he needs a haircut, but then something comes up, and either she forgets, or the salon doesn't have any free appointments.

When Sylvain keeps brushing his hair from his face as he tries to eat, Danielle reaches over and simply puts her hairclip into his hair, keeping it away from their son's face. Lise blinks in surprise at the picture, and the fact that their son doesn't protest it. He can be rather, particular, about his hair. He won't let Lise near it with a brush, she's tried. Danielle usually manages to convince him to let her deal with it, but even she has to persuade him.

"I'm sorry," Lise apologizes. "For losing track of time. You should have gotten me way sooner," she tells Danielle.

"It's fine," the blonde waves her off. "I figured if I let you work, chances were we'd have you for the rest of the evening," she tells Lise. "Plus, I had a little helper," she adds with a smile at Sylvain, who grins at her.

"You helped?" Lise asks him with a smile.

"Yes," the boy nods enthusiastically. "Maman let me cut the 'tatoes,"

"He did a really good job with those," Danielle compliments him. "And what else did you do?" Danielle prompts, watching the boy with love in her eyes as he tells Lise how he turned on the stove and stired the pots and salted the water and got out their plates and helped set the table.

She's amazing, Lise keeps thinking. And wonders, again, why Danielle agreed to marry her. She's such a wonderful wife, and amazing mother.

If anyone had told her years ago that one day, Lise would be the one to want a child, she would have laughed in their face. But when Danielle and her had gotten married, she'd suddenly found herself thinking how great it would be, to have a child with her. To raise a kid, together.

She'd have been fine, with adoption. But when Lise told Danielle that she didn't want a child that was only half theirs, only Lise's biological kid, Danielle had reminded her that actually, she had sperm frozen, before she first started transitioning. So there'd been the option, of having a child that is biologically related to both of them, and Lise had figured they could give that a shot, before looking into adoption. Their second attempt at AI had taken, and nine months later, she'd given birth to Sylvain. That was almost four years ago, and Lise finds herself wondering where the time went.

Danielle'd told her, about wanting to stay home, with the baby. Lise had been all for it. She would have taken off a year, but after she wanted to go back to work. With Danielle willing to stay at home, that eliminated the need for daycare, or a nanny, and Lise was free to return to work six months after having their son. It had been hard, at first, to leave the baby, but she'd missed work a lot, and Danielle and Sylvain made it easy, on her. They're great, together. Danielle is so loving, and encouraging, and supportive, and patient with him, that Lise keeps wondering where she gets it from. She's been at her wit's end with the boy more than once, but she's yet to hear Danielle even raise her voice at him.

"Mama?"

"Huh?" Lise blinks, pulling herself from her thoughts to find Sylvain frowning at her. "I'm sorry, what was it you said?"

"You weren't listening," the boy accuses her and Lise finds herself deflating.

"Syl," Danielle murmurs softly and reaches out to touch his back. "It's been a long day. I'm sure Mama is just tired. Why don't you take your plate to the kitchen, huh? There's a cup of jello on the counter, for desert."

Sylvain gets up and takes his plate, leaving them to themselves.

"I'm sorry," Lise apologizes and reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I don't know what's wrong," she shakes her head and takes a sip of her water.

"I have a guess," Danielle murmurs and tilts her head slightly, causing Lise's eyes to widen.

"You think..." she starts, frowning. Her wife opens her mouth to reply, but their son returns and cuts of whatever it was that Danielle had wanted to say. He hands Lise his jello so she can peel off the lid and sets to eat it with gusto.

Danielle tells her it's fine, she'll clear the table, as long as Lise takes Sylvain to the bathroom for a bath. Lise nods and takes his hand, and their son pulls her with him eagerly. She grabs the lighter from the top shelf of their medicine cabinet and lights up the lavender-scented candle they keep in the bathroom.

She turns on the water and lets him pick the warmth, before putting in the plug and adding some bubble bath.

"Get undressed, love," she tells Sylvain and takes out her phone to put on some music.

She loves bath time with him. And so does Sylvain. It's odd, but he has specific things he wants her or Danielle to do. Bath time is Lise's part, he won't let Danielle do it when Lise is home with them. The same way that he wants Danielle to make him breakfast, not Lise, because Danielle knows just how he likes his cereal and his sandwich. When they put him to bed, Sylvain wants Lise to read him a story, but it's Danielle who has to tuck him in, or he won't go to sleep.

She manages to convince him to let her wash his hair and actually manages to run a wide toothed comb through it after, to get the worst tangles out.

"Floof monster," Lise laughs when she dries him off and Sylvain's damp hair sticks up every which way. The boy giggles and throws himself at her, growling, and Lise calls for help between laughs.

"I'm getting ravaged by a floof monster," she laughs when Danielle appears the in the doorway to check on them. Her wife blinks at the scene, before she shakes her head in amusement and leans against the doorjamb.

"I think you're not supposed to get them wet," she quips. Lise lets out a chuckle and shakes her head.

"So you set me up?" she asks and sits up, wrapping her arms around their son. Danielle tilts her head and gives a slight shrug.

"Maybe," she smiles. "Come on," she adds, holding her hand out for their child. "Time for bed, Floofy."

Sylvain bares his teeth at her and snaps it jaws shut, prompting Danielle to lift an eyebrow at him.

"I think Maman is serious," Lise murmurs and stands, giving Sylvain a gentle push. "Come on. I'll read you a story while Maman tucks you in."

"Hm, you smell very nice," Danielle mutters half an hour later, when she bends down to kiss Sylvain goodnight. The boy lets out a mumble, his eyes already closing. "Sweet dreams, my love," she whispers as she straightens and leaves the room, pulling the door almost closed.

"You done with work?" Danielle asks as Lise takes her hand and pulls her in the direction of their bedroom.

"Yes," she nods. "I was just reading over everything again," she tells her. "Keeping it fresh in my mind."

"I thought it was good, that you're in court this month," the blonde says with a slight shake of her head. "But I'm starting to think it's driving you crazy."

"It is," Lise confirms as she sits down on their bed and lets herself fall back until she hits the mattress. "I'm always afraid of saying something wrong, of chosing the wrong word, and it getting blown up into something it's not," she sighs and reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Turns her head to the side and finds Danielle laying next to her, looking up at the ceiling with her arms crossed behind her head. Lise turns onto her side, rests her head in her hand and studies her wife.

"Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"Hm," Danielle hums. "Though you were half-asleep then, so I could do with a reminder from an awake Lise," she adds with a sparkle in her eye. Lise leans in and brushes her lips over Danielle's in a gentle caress.

"Je t'aime," she whispers, stroking her cheek as she looks into Danielle's eyes. "Je t'aime tellement."

"Je t'aime aussi," Danielle smiles back and pulls her in for another kiss. "Sylvain," she says after a moment. "He wasn't too rough with you, was he?"

"No," Lise shakes her head. Searches Danielle's eyes. She's looks, content. Happy. "We have to tell him," Lise murmurs, a sigh escaping her.

"I know," Danielle nods, her hand slipping beneath Lise's shirt. She moves it to the front, her fingertips resting against Lise's abdomen as a smile settles on her lips. "I keep trying to figure out how."

"Me, too," Lise laughs. She doesn't want to confuse their son with medical facts. They'd told him that a doctor had helped Danielle and her make him, helped to put him inside Lise's tummy. It's not entirely true, but close enough to the truth that Lise is fine with it. Maybe they should just do the same thing again, this time. When he's older, they can explain the details better.

"Boy or girl?" Danielle asks her, tilting her head a little. Lise finds herself furrowing her brows.

"Is this going to become a nightly thing?" she asks her wife, drawing a soft chuckle from Danielle.

"Maybe," she giggles, before sobering. "No," she shakes her head. "I was just wondering, what you thought."

"I think it's a girl," Lise answers after a moment. She'd known, from the moment that she'd found out she was pregnant, that she was having a boy with Sylvain. They hadn't been able to see anything on the ultrasound, he'd always been in very weird positions during Lise's appointments. But somehow, she'd known they were having a son. Granted, the odds hadn't been terrible, really. 50/50 chance, of getting it right.

"Is it bad that I really want you to be right?" Danielle asks, a soft sigh leaving her. "I'll be happy no matter what, I promise. But, a little girl, Lise."

"You haven't gotten it out of your system with Syl?" Lise laughs. Danielle has dressing their son up down to an art. Honestly, Lise doesn't think she's ever seen a three year old have a color-coordinated wardrobe. Maybe, just maybe, it's a bit, overkill. But Lise has to admit that a lot of the outfits are very cute on the boy. And he seems to enjoy it. He's got a mind of his own and isn't shy about letting them know his opinions. If Danielle were doing things he didn't like, even if it was attempting to dress him in clothes he doesn't care for, they'd know.

"What do you want?" the blonde asks her, searching Lise's face. It makes her swallow as she contemplates the question.

"I don't know," she frowns with a slight shake of her head. Reaches out to brush a curl of hair from Danielle's face. "It's already been decided, hasn't it?"

Danielle hums in assent and closes her eyes for a moment.

"Do you think he'll be happy?" Lise asks her softly. The question's been burning at the back of her mind for days. Weeks, even. Since they started trying. The uncertainty, how their son is going to react. Maybe he will be happy. Or maybe he'll be upset. That he'll have to share them, soon. That there will be another little person who needs their attention. Who will scream and cry at all hours and disrupt their routine.

"Yes," Danielle answers, her voice barely above a whisper as she opens her eyes again. "Maybe not all the time. I'm sure there'll be tears and tantrums. But overall, he'll be happy, and excited. He knows we love him, and that won't change at all."

"It won't," Lise confirms.

"God, I love you so much," Danielle beams at her and leans in for a soft kiss, one that makes Lise let out a soft sigh and pull her wife close so she can kiss her again and again and again.

[theofficialcunt]

Simplicité - Chapter 7

The next few days went by smoothly, the salon was fully booked and Adore was still getting used to her new role as Bianca’s assistant, as well as balancing her new love life on top of that. Conversation with Bianca outside of work had become scarce, even more so than before. Most nights, Adore would find herself locked in her room talking to Farrah, or better yet locked in Farrah’s room.

It was cool having a roommate like Bianca. It had been Adore’s first time living with someone other than a family member and so far she was digging it. The freedom to come and go as she pleased was exhilarating, and she wouldn’t trade that for the world.

Life for her was good.

For Bianca on the other hand…

“Sorry pussyface, I can’t tonight. I got a date.” Courtney drawled over the phone, wiggling her eyebrows promiscuously into the iPhone camera. Bianca sighed to herself as she slumped back down on her bed, making sure to hold a fake smile for the Facetime camera.

“Another date? Isn’t that the fourth one this week?” Bianca asked, bitterness lacing her voice as she unhooked her bra with one hand.

“Yep! Being single rules!” Courtney exclaimed. “Hey I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow B.”

And with a click she was gone.

Here Bianca was, alone on a goddamn Friday night, in the middle of Chicago. Not one of her friends was unoccupied. Was there something wrong with her? When did she become the reject of the group?

She was a bit annoyed with Adore; ever since her and Farrah became exclusive her work performance had plateaued and her growth had come to a screeching halt. She desperately needed to get her shit together, at least enough for the Modern Salon interview next week.

It’s not that she was bad at her job, the girl just needed to watch her words. Bianca would cringe everytime Adore would screech “Oh party!” or say things like “Sweet man,” “Chillax bro,” and her personal favorite “We’re totes excited to see you! Byeeeee.”

Unfortunately for her, she had not been able to properly talk to her about it. Every chance she got, Adore would be rushing out the door with that loud, annoyingly whiney airheaded blonde on a smoke break.

Adore wasn’t the only one who had been neglecting her job lately. Courtney had been dragging herself into the salon with makeup from the day before. When she had tried to call her out on it, she said she was trying the new effortlessly chic look, which reportedly consisted of smudging her cat eyeliner in a way to make a “soft” smoky eye. Add the remnants of a nude liquid lipstick, a smudged brow, and glitter halfway down your cheeks and you have this Fall’s It Look according to Courtney.

Do these girls realize who she is? She has literally done everything they have, except for one, she freshened up her makeup before her shift if she was out all night, and two, knew how to do her damn job.

She shook her head and began to scroll through instagram, where she found two nearly identical pictures in her feed.

courtneyact: Oh my gosh! Ran into farrahrized and adoredelano at Roscoes. #girlsnightout

farrahrized: Date night with my baby adoredelano and my “twin” courtneyact

Adore was sandwiched in the middle of the two blondes, golden arms linked with hers as they all posed sexily for the camera. Farrah’s long platinum hair was straightened, she was dressed in metallic silver booty shorts with a rhinestone bra. Her abs shone gold from the flash (of course this bitch put highlighter there), while Courtney’s jaw was slack, blonde curls cascading around her face. She was in a short black dress, with dark red lips and a weirdly shaped headpiece. Adore was the most simple but most striking of them all, wearing a Nirvana t shirt and black ripped jeans.

Bianca clicked on Adore’s instagram and hit follow, her breath hitching in her throat as she saw the picture she posted.

adoredelano: Well I’m one lucky bitch courtneyact farrahrized

Her arms were around Courtney and Farrah’s waists, as their lips were pressed to her cheeks. Adore was smiling with her mouth wide open in the photo, almost as if she were caught mid laugh. Her head was tilted back and Farrah’s hand appeared to be touching her crotch, while Courtney’s hand rested on her right tit.

Bianca was jolted into a pure rage, her stomach feeling ill from the pure envy seeping through her veins as she fixated on the image. Without thinking, she typed out a quick comment and hit send on the photo.

thebiancadelrio: you call that lucky?

She didn’t even care if it was rude. Sure, maybe it was pure coincidence that they had all run into each other but maybe it wasn’t. They didn’t have to stay together at the bar.

The more she thought about them out having fun without her, the more angry she felt.

courtneyact: Sorry babe. Blondes have more fun. ;)

Bianca rolled her eyes. She didn’t need her false pity. It was too little too late for that anyway.

———————————

Adore softly unlocked the front door to her apartment, tip toeing in as she eyed the large clock on the wall. 1:30 AM. Ugh, she had work in 7 hours and was most definitely not looking forward to it.

As she softly padded into the house, she noticed that the lights were still on. As she turned her head towards the kitchen, she jumped back startled at Bianca’s brown eyes that were fixated on her.

“What the fuck?!” Adore exclaimed.

“I know, I look like that girl gremlin they poured water on without makeup on. Thanks for the confirmation.” Bianca retorted dryly.

“No man, It’s not that.” Adore started. “I just didn’t expect you to be up.”

“Someone has to make sure that you’re okay to actually come into work tomorrow.” Bianca smirked, raising a brow before gesturing to her tea pot. “Tea?”

“Sure.”

Bianca grabbed another mug, pouring the contents into it before sliding it over to Adore. Adore smiled, letting the sweetness slip down her throat as she studied Bianca’s features. This was the first time she had seen her with no makeup on, and she was gorgeous without it. Her natural eyebrows were more of a golden neutral brown color, instead of the dramatically drawn on dark brown ones she was used to. Her skin was smooth and reminded her of deep caramel, dewy as if she had just moisturized her face with 6 different creams. She could appreciate her dimples a lot more without the layers and layers of creams and powders, and idly wondered why she opted for so much makeup on a daily basis.

“You know, you’re like super pretty without makeup.” Adore murmured.

Bianca raised an eyebrow tiredly, for once not really wanting to challenge the girl.

“Thanks.” Bianca whispered softly.

“I’m serious. You’re a natural beauty.” Adore said, locking eyes with her. She drained the rest of her tea, setting the mug down on the counter. “Thanks for the tea. I’m gonna go get some sleep.”

As Bianca watched her go to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was the alcohol talking or if Adore really thought she was pretty without makeup.

———————————

The next morning, Courtney stumbled into the salon with a false eyelash falling off of her eyelid, flyaways dancing around her roots, and dressed in one of her famous backup outfits.

Enough is enough, Bianca thought, annoyed, as she watched Courtney set her purse down at her station. She sat in her salon chair and put her face in her hands, clearly tired and not at all ready for the day ahead.

“Hi!” Bianca exclaimed, raising her voice so loud that it echoed throughout the lobby. “How’s my precious Court doing? Are you all set for work today? You’re fully booked!”

“Jesus, can you take it down a notch?” Courtney moaned, rubbing her temples.

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Bianca asked, tilting her head. “Is something the matter?”

“Hey Courm! How are you feeling? Damn dude you sure pounded those jello shots back last night-“ Adore stopped as she realized Bianca was standing right there. “Oh hey B. Sorry, Starbucks was out of Everything Bagels so I went to like 5 different ones to get you yours. I didn’t mean to be late to my shift, but I didn’t think you’d mind since I rode with you here anyway.”

“Oh it’s quite alright, just come into work whenever you’d like! Who cares if you have to drive to 5 different Starbucks and waste our time. Adore, you could have just gotten me a yogurt parfait.” Bianca seethed before turning to Courtney. “ But it’s okay! Wear your backup outfits, pass off last night’s makeup as a smoky eye look, I don’t care. But honey, at least glue your fucking false eyelash back on.” Bianca handed a stunned Courtney her eyelash glue before spinning on her heel towards the office.

“Fuck.” Courtney mumbled.

“What crawled up her ass this morning?” Adore muttered.

“A late assistant and a half drunk hair stylist.” Bianca barked from the stairwell.

——————

“Courtney!” Farrah drawled, giving her an air kiss before sitting down next to her in the stylist room. “What happened to you last night? Who was that girl you were with?” Courtney had just finished up her third haircut of the day and was currently on a 30 min break.

“Oh my god, so I took this girl home last night, and-“

“Wait wait, I wanna hear!” Adore said as she ran up the stairs from the basement. “That red headed girl you were with looked hot! Did you fuck her?”

As Adore pounded up the stairs obnoxiously, Bianca rolled her eyes as she typed an email to a client. Since when have Adore and Courtney been BFF’s? She didn’t hire an assistant to be sitting in her office by herself. She hit send on the email, before grabbing her phone and sending a text to Bob.

Bianca: Wanna get drinks tonight?

“So, I ended up taking her home and you won’t believe what happened. She fell ASLEEP!” Courtney groaned.

“No!!!” Farrah gasped, fake crying as she shook her head.

“It gets worse guys.” Courtney whined, looking between the two girls.

“Oh god.” Bianca muttered as she listened in from the office.

“She fell asleep - in the middle of sex!” Courtney screamed. “But that was okay, her cute friend Ivy explained to me that that usually happens when she gets excited.”

“Wait bitch, you took more than one girl home?” Adore asked. “That’s a baller move.”

“Why of course! And thank god I did, because Ivy was kind enough to sleep with me while her friend was passed out.” Courtney said batting her eyelashes.

“OH MY GOD!” Farrah shrieked as Adore’s laugh rang throughout the salon.

“What? I’m a classy lady, so I insisted that we let her join in once she woke up. I feel bad, I had Ivy screaming so loud I think she ended up waking the poor girl up…Anyway, at least it all worked out in my favor in the end.” Courtney shrugged.

“That’s fucking badass!” Adore cackled.

As the girls laughed together on the second floor, Bianca’s phone rang with a text.

Bob: Sorry bitch, got plans already. Soon!

Bianca frowned, sitting back in her chair as she began to feel a sinking feeling hit her stomach. Adore was fitting in great with the other girls (and Bob), which was great - fantastic even. But she couldn’t help but feel lonely as she heard them laugh and gossip upstairs, not even paying her any mind.

She watched the clock tick down, slowly watching as their lunches all trickled away before she barked Adore’s name to beckon her back downstairs.

“Yeah, B?” Adore called as she skipped down the steps.

“Can you get me lunch from EP?” Bianca asked, not making eye contact. “Cuban sandwich and if they don’t have it just get me the Chicken and Wild Rice soup.”

“Sure! Anything else?”

“Nope that’s all.” Bianca said, realizing at the last second that she was sending her into Farrah’s ex flings restaurant. Whoops.

“Okay, be back soon.” Adore said, quite cheerfully to Bianca’s surprise.

That could only mean one thing.

———————

“You didn’t tell her?” Bianca glared at Farrah as she mixed toner into a small color bowl.

“I-I didn’t know how to tell her!” Farrah protested. “It’s not like we were official. She won’t come out of the damn closet.”

“So let me get this straight, Eureka wouldn’t come out of the closet so you didn’t consider you guys to be an item?”

“It was a mutual understanding.” Farrah clipped.

Bianca was utterly disgusted. First of all, you don’t keep past relations from someone you’re dating. Especially if they work just down the street and have multiple opportunities a day to get in touch with them! The only reason people hid exes from their current partners was to still have them as an option in case things don’t work out.

“Mutual or not, Adore has the right to know especially since we work almost right fucking next to her!” Bianca snapped. “If you really respected Adore you would tell her.”

The tension was growing thick between the two of them. Maybe part of it was jealousy, but the other part of it was that Bianca cared about Adore and didn’t want to see her get hurt.

“Bianca enough.” Courtney hissed. “This is Farrah’s relationship, not yours. Stop trying to get into her business.”

Bianca shot daggers at Courtney with her eyes before she turned her attention back to Farrah, making sure to keep intense eye contact with her. She learned a long time ago that her eyes were her deadliest weapon.

“She deserves to know, Farrah.” Bianca spat, before going back downstairs to her office. Leaving a confused Farrah alone in the shampoo area, with a bowl of color and a bigger mess than she anticipated.

——————

“Hi, can I get the cuban, a blueberry/lemon scone, a raspberry salad and a grilled cheese to go?” Adore asked as she approached the cash register.

“That sounds like Bianca’s order-“ Eureka stopped in her tracks as she turned around and faced the raven haired beauty. Her heart sank as she noticed she was even more beautiful up close. Her lips were plump and full, a cherry red color from the lip balm she had put on. Heavily lined blue eyes were a striking contrast against the long black hair framing her face. The mystery girl’s skin was smooth and to top it all off she had impeccable bone structure. She stared up at her slightly in awe, so mesmerized by how pretty she was.

But then she remembered she was supposed to hate her. She entered in the order on the cash register seriously, trying not to make anymore eye contact.

“It is! I guess you know her order pretty well by now huh?” Adore laughed.

“Yeah. Anything else?” Eureka asked coldly, grabbing a paper bag quickly.

Adore’s smile faded as she shifted uncomfortably. Did she say something wrong?

“No that’s it.” Adore mumbled.

“$30.65.”

Adore raised an eyebrow before handing over the company credit card. Eureka slid it, handing her the receipt before going back to the kitchen to get her food.

“Hey what’s your name again?” Adore asked when she came back.

“Eureka.”

Adore felt her blood go cold as she realized that this was the girl that Farrah used to flirt with to get free food. She wondered if that was all that they did. By the glare on her round face, she was assuming that there was something that she didn’t know.

[crzcorgi]

A Dream Come True ~ part 3

part two here!

My first attempt at a RPF! I love Norman, but am nowhere near an expert on him, like I am with Jeffrey. 😜 So excuse my writing of him.  Also, let’s pretend that Jeffrey and Norman are single, no SO’s, no ties.

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader x Norman Reedus

Word count ~ 2800

Warnings- NSFW, includes double penetration

Tags~ @stileswolfi @magikat409 @jasoncrouse @nothin-after-79 @magpiegirl80  @omgitss0y @binegan @metal-xo @mypopculturediva @angelofthenite @hotfornegan @a-queen-and-her-throne @mwesterfeld1985

  As tired as I felt, my muscles like jello, I wanted more. Needed more. I hadn’t a clue what would come next, but was excited. And more than ready.

 I was now lying between both men, and I never felt more at home. Norman’s fingers stroking my hair. Jeffrey rubbing my arm softly. I could almost fall asleep. But my mind was still reeling with what was to come.

 Jeffrey began kissing up my arm, starting with my fingers, soon reaching my shoulder. Leaning into me, he whispered in my ear.

 “Ready for more now, sweetheart?” His voice causing me to shiver.

 “I think so.” I whispered. I was sure I wanted more, no doubt. But I was feeling anxious again, a mix of the alcohol out of my system and the let down after the high of my life.

 “Now darlin’ we ain’t going to do anything else unless you’re positive you want more, okay?” Norman ceased his actions to grasp my chin, gently forcing me to look at him.

 “Bubba’s right, doll. It’s up to you.” Jeffrey put his hand on mine, then pulled it up to his lips, kissing each finger.

 “I’m sure. I’m just not sure and where we go, what we do. Like I said, this is all so new, and I don’t want to disappoint you both.” I looked away from them both.

 Jeffrey pulled me into him. “You could never disappoint me. And I’m sure Norm feels the same. Baby, you’re amazing, I know that seems like a fucking odd thing to say when we only just met. But I can feel it, I sense that we’re meant to be more than just a one time thing. This…” he lifted his hand to signal between us. “Is special.”

 I wasn’t sure if he meant the three of us, or just him and I. Surprisingly , I would be okay either way.

 “No disappointment here, like I said before, just pissed I didn’t find ya first darlin’.”

 I pulled away from Jeffrey, causing him to pull me back into him. “Where are you taking off to, y/n?”

 “I kind of have to use the bathroom.” I giggled.

 “Well, I guess I’m okay with that!” He sat up, bringing me with him.

 I was feeling a bit self conscious, I was naked, completely bare. And I had to crawl out of bed and make my way across the room to the bathroom, naked. In front of both Jeffrey and Norman. Oh boy.

 “Crawl over me darlin’. I don’t bite.” Norman patted his bare chest.

 “Don’t trust him sweetheart, I’ll help you up.” Jeffrey flipped the blanket off of us both, making me try to cover myself with my arms. “Now doll, we’ve seen all of you, every beautiful inch. No need to fucking hide.” He leant back, stroking the side of my face.

 Smiling at him, I slowly dropped my hands from in front of my breasts. I glanced up at Jeffrey, then Norman. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

 “Just what darlin’?”

 Jeffrey took both of my hands in one of his larger ones. “What’s bothering you doll?”

 I hesitated, what was it about these men that made me feel so utterly comfortable, so at ease that I could share secrets, things that I had never told or admitted to anyone else. Ever.

 “It’s just that I’ve never been with someone who says the things you both have. No one has ever made me feel special, beautiful. I know I’m not like the women you two have been with. I’m just confused, maybe a bit scared that this will just be a dream.”

 “Yeah, you’re right. You are nothing like the women I’ve been with.” Jeffrey looked in my eyes, as if he was disappointed.

 I knew it. I knew this was all too good to be true. Somehow, Jeffrey got caught up in the moment, the rush of it all. And now he was regretting his decision. And Norman wouldn’t be far behind. I could just die. The tears began to flow, no matter how hard I tried to stop them, my body beginning to shake with violent sobs. Why can’t I for once in my life have the upper hand in a situation? I could just picture myself standing up, grabbing my clothing to take into the bathroom. Coming out fully dressed, saying “it was fun boys” And walking out the door with my head held high.

 But no, that’s not how my life works. I was sitting between the two men that were greatly regretting their choices. Regretting me.

 “Hey! Hey, doll! You didn’t let me finish what I was saying!” Jeffrey pulled me into his lap. “No, you aren’t like anyone I’ve ever been with. You are more amazing, more dynamic, more breathtakingly beautiful than anyone else.”

 Norman had crawled over the bed towards us, wiping the fallen tears from my face.

 “For once, I agree with Jeff. You are fucking amazing darlin’, amazing. No regrets here. So no more tears, okay?”

 I couldn’t believe my ears. No regrets?

 “I think I’ve cried more…in the last day than…in years.” I couldn’t stop the hiccups. “I’m so embarrassed. You two must think I’m the stereotypical hormonal woman. I swear, I’m not usually like this.” Looking up at Jeffrey, a smile gracing his gorgeous face, I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled on my own lips.

 “Nah, you’ve just had a really trying, out of your zone, 24 hours. I totally get it. We all have those.” He pulled me closer, making a funny growling noise.

 “Hey, what the fuck, sugar! Thought we were sharing, gimme some lovin’ girl!” Norman tried to pull me from Jeffrey’s arm, making me giggle as his hairy arms tickled my still bare body.

 Becoming brave once again, with my tearful hiccups stopping, I attempted to crawl away from both men. To no avail.

 “I’m sorry but I’m afraid I need to use the little girl’s room.” I smiled at them both.

 “I guess that’s allowed doll.” Jeffrey let go, a grin forming.

 “Yeah, that’s okay darlin’. But don’t be long.” Norman leant over, kissing my forehead, one hand running down my arm causing tiny shivers.

 I started to crawl off the bed, forgetting that my bare ass was on full display, but remembering soon enough when I felt a gentle slap. Swinging around to discover the culprit, I was met with two “innocent” faces.

 “Wasn’t me!” Norman gestured towards Jeffrey. “Although it is one fine ass girly.”

He winked at me, making me blush.

 “Yes, I’ll admit it, it was me. But fuck doll! I told you I fucking love that ass! Not sorry sweetheart.”

 Giggling and trying to walk backwards, I made my way to the bathroom. As I closed the door, I took another glance at the two men. How did I ever arrive here? I just couldn’t seem to wrap my head around this situation I was in. Maybe dreams do come true?

 After I peed, I washed my hands, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Normally I would be looking at myself, finding flaws, things that could definitely use improvement. But not this time. I saw a beautiful woman, a face that might be far from flawless, but was perfect in its own way. I saw a curvy body that might have seen a few more burgers and fries than others, but those curves appeared in all the right places.

 I dried my hands off, running my fingers through my hair quickly and opened the door, ready to enjoy myself once again with two very hot men.

 “There she is, missed ya darlin’. Thought you changed your mind and escaped out the window.” Norman laughed, sitting on the bed in all of his bare naked glory.

 I looked away quickly, an embarrassing blush arising. I realized Jeff was no where to be seen. My confusion must have shown on my face as Norman spoke up.

 “He slapped a pair of pants on to go grab some ice. Don’t worry darlin’ he’s comin’ back.” He patted the bed beside him. “Come ‘ere, sit beside me before ol’ Mr Lucky gets back.”

 I slowly walked back over, well aware of his eyes on every part of me, making me nervous of every step I took. As I reached the bed, I hesitated, but not for long as Norman leaned over, grabbing me by the waist and hoisting me onto the bed and right on top of him, making me let out a tiny squeak.

 “Oops, you okay there doll?” Norman started pulling me into his side.

 “Yes, it just startled me, that’s all.” I looked up at him as I rested my face on his chest, taking in his scent.

 Suddenly the door opened.

 “Starting up without me! Come on Bubba!” Jeffrey walked in in just a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips, no shirt or shoes.

 And all I could do was stare.

 “You okay there baby girl?” Jeffrey put the ice bucket down on the bar and was walking over to the bed. “Bubba been treating you okay?”

 “Yes, we were just laying here, talking.”

 He laid down next to me, on his side facing me. “Just want to make sure he was being on his best behavior.”

 “He was.” I smiled up at Norman, who had sat up.

 “I’m going to take a piss and get a drink. Be right back and don’t start anything Morgan.” He pointed a finger at Jeff.

 Jeffrey gave him the finger. “Sorry you have to see us being bad sweetheart.” He kissed my shoulder, resting his head on his hand, hovering above me. “Can I kiss you?”

 “Uh, yes…yes, that would be nice.” After what we just did and he’s still asking to kiss me, such a gentleman.

 He put his hand on my hip, pulling me onto my side making us face each other. He snaked one arm under me, bringing me tight to his chest, the other hand coming up to grasp my jaw.

 “You are gorgeous , I mean fucking breathtaking baby.”

Holding tightly to my jaw, he pulled our lips together in a rough but sweet kiss. His tongue immediately wanting entrance and I allowed it. He tasted like whiskey, mint and something I couldn’t quite read. But it was causing me to feel high, the most amazing feeling.

 Our tongues started moving together perfectly, as if we had done this forever. I began rubbing his back with one hand, my fingers of the other running through his hair, pulling it lightly. I think we both needed to breathe, but didn’t want to break apart, it felt so right.

 Jeffrey brought his hand down to my butt, squeezing it tightly and pulling it into him, making me feel his large bulge through his sweats, making me groan.

  We broke away from the kiss, both of us gasping for much needed air.

 Nuzzling into my hair, Jeffrey whispered. “I don’t know what’s taking that asshole so long, but I need you now, doll. And I’m not waiting.”

 Making quick work of his sweats, his hands each grabbing my legs, pulling them apart gently. “I need to know you’re ready for me sweetheart.” His fingers finding my pussy quickly. He was gentle, like before, one finger finding it’s way inside, then another, spreading them slowly.

 Pulling them out, he brought them up to his lips, inserting one, sucking it clean, repeating the action with the other, his eyes never leaving mine. I was mesmerized. It was such an erotic action, I could feel my juices flowing even more. If I wasn’t prepared for him before, I certainly was now.

 He leaned down, towering over me, our lips drawn together like magnets. I could taste myself as my tongue entered his mouth, causing me to moan his name.

 “I gotcha sweetheart.” He whispered into my mouth. I felt his cock at my entrance and in one forceful thrust he was fully seated inside me. Both of us making unintelligible sounds of pure pleasure.

 He started a punishing pace, slamming into me with enough force to move me up and down the bed. But I was not at all complaining, the pleasure, the pure ecstasy overpowering any kind of possible pain.

 “Jesus FUCK! You couldn’t wait?!” Norman stormed over to the bed.

 I couldn’t speak and wasn’t sure Jeffrey could either, but he was able to flip us onto our sides, his cock still pounding up into me, never slowing down. He was looking into my eyes, questioning me?! I realized he was asking if I was up to Norman joining. I nodded my head, a bit hesitant, a lot nervous. But oh lord did I want this.

 Somehow Norman caught on, grabbing something out of the bedside table and crawling in the bed behind me. Jeffrey slowed his pace, prolonging our release. I soon comprehended what it was Norman had when I felt his cold wet finger enter my puckered hole.

 Whispering in my ear, Norman spoke gently. “If this becomes too much, or you change your mind, its fine, I’m fine. Okay darlin’?”

 I nodded an affirmative. I felt another finger enter me, it was a strange burning sensation, but not all unpleasant. Coupled with Jeffrey’s thrusts it was making me feel my end coming quicker.

 He must have felt I was ready, as I soon felt the tip of his wet cock push itself in. I groaned out of the foreign sensation but the groans soon turned to moans as I felt absolutely incredible. It was like this was how I was supposed to feel, so full, so deliciously complete, so loved.

 Jeffrey started moving quicker, when he thrusted, Norman pulled back, taking turns. Norman was biting at my neck delicately while Jeffrey captured my lips with his teeth, nipping, then sucking.

 Norman had one hand on a breast, pinching, twirling a nipple. Jeffrey took the other in his mouth, sucking hard, causing me to back hard into Norman, both of us gasping.

 I couldn’t stop the moans coming forth. I brought my hand up to cover my mouth but Jeffrey pulled it away.

 “No… I love those little noises…never stop. FUCK… I’m almost… Come for us doll.”

 The combination of being fucked by dual dicks, four hands all over me, touching, tweaking. And two pairs of lips licking, sucking made me soar towards the most incredible, mind-blowing orgasm of all time. I felt, and yet couldn’t feel at the same time. I could see everything, every color, every movement, but couldn’t see. I could hear moans, groans, loud grunts, but couldn’t hear.

 I did feel all three of us come. I was being filled up to the brim, warm and welcoming. I felt my own release of juices, not an unwelcome feeling. I knew I was shaking, but couldn’t move.

 Norman moved first, his manhood falling free of me, making me sigh. Jeffrey was still inside me, I didn’t want him to pull out, it was so comforting. But he did, and a tiny whimper escaped me.

 “Oh, baby girl, we’re not going anywhere. Come here.” And he pulled my limp body into his. “Can you move enough to go get her a warm towel, Bubba?”

 “Sure.” Norman leaned over to kiss the top of my head and rub my back. I hummed in thanks.

 Jeff was lightly rubbing my back, both of us still so overstimulated that touches had to be light. I kissed his chest, nuzzling my nose into his damp hairs. He was sweaty, as was I, but he smelled like spicy cologne, leather and Jeff. And I was like a cat with catnip, I could never get enough of him.

 I felt the bed dip and a warm towel between my legs. It felt nice, soothing, his movements gentle. When he was through, he crawled up behind me, kissing my shoulder.

 “I was thinking that when you’re up to it, I could draw you a bath sweet thing, mmhmm?” Norman was now rubbing my back, Jeff moving on to my thigh.

 “I think that would be fucking perfect doll. But let’s test a bit. Just sleep baby.”

 “Thank you both, this is definitely my heaven.”

 They both leaned in to kiss me, Jeff on my lips, nothing too heated, very sweet. Norman’s kiss on my shoulder, he lingered a bit, breathing me in.

 “If anyone is saying thanks, that’d be me thanking you. You are amazing sweetheart.” Norman whispered.

 “I agree with Bubba on that. Thank you darling for making me feel something I have never felt. And I hope you know that this is not a one time thing. I need more. I need you.” Jeff whispered the last part.

 I hope he knows I need him too. I closed my eyes, hoping my dreams could match my reality. And I slept like I hadn’t in years.

[roseonhissleeve]

Kiwi: Part Five

A mini-series based in Jamaica during the writing/recording of Harry’s new album. Enjoy. x

Kiwi: Part One // Kiwi: Part Two // Kiwi: Part Three // Kiwi: Part Four

TW: mentions death; loss of a family member.

He woke up to the sounds of the ocean kissing the sandy shore.

He couldn’t remember what time they finally fell asleep the night before. Sleep had already started to overcome him during the last little bit of the night so he hadn’t been fully conscious, but he did remember a few things: stealing soft kisses and gentle whispers, and the sound of her laugh harmonizing with the sound of the waves. 

He’d never seen Cal that relaxed before, and it brought her to a whole new dimension that only made him fall even deeper—it was almost like she was a new person every day. Like she was constantly shifting into new versions of herself. 

He turned over in the bed to look at her—she was laying on her stomach, one of her arms resting by her head as the other remained down at her side. Her shoulders were rising and falling calmly with every breath that she took, and it was almost soothing to see her this relaxed—she had this resilient intensity about her all of the time that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and watching her sound asleep was perhaps the only time that he saw her with her defences completely lowered.

He groaned inaudibly as he gently rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sitting up in the bed carefully as not to wake her up. As much as he wanted to stay, he needed to get back to the studio to keep working. He slipped out of the bed and padded across the room quietly, and after some debate, he decided to leave her a note. He didn’t want her to think that he was running off, but he also didn’t want to wake her—he wrote her the note and left it on the bed beside her frame, slipping out of the little home and making his way back to the studio.

Calliope woke up hours later to the beeping of her alarm going off on her watch.

Her eyelids fluttered open drowsily with sleepiness, the kind where you’ve definitely overslept but still feel like you could sleep for days. It had been a long time since she’d had such a deep sleep. She rolled over and half-expected to feel Harry’s body next to hers—when she didn’t, the corners of her lips turned downwards upon instinct.

A small yawn escaped her lips as she sat up in bed and ran her hands through her short hair, letting her palms fall against the mattress as she looked around her little room. There was no sign that Harry had ever been there, other than the lingering warmth in her chest.

She spotted the piece of paper on the mattress and reached to grab it between her fingers, flipping it over to reveal the writing.

Had to run into the studio this morning, didn’t want to wake you. I promise I’ll see you soon. Thinking of you. H.

Cal smiled to herself as she ran the pad of her index finger across the page, tracing the small “H” at the bottom three times before folding the paper up and setting it beside her.

She’d definitely be thinking of him, too.

*

Forty minutes later she was walking into the bar—the green tank top she wore was already sticking to her back with sweat, and when she walked into the establishment there wasn’t a single person there. It was silent, other than the loud and quite obnoxious singing coming from the kitchen.  She couldn’t quite recognize it, but it was upbeat and she could imagine him dancing around in the back. It made her laugh, and she grabbed her apron off of the hook by the bar as she called out.

“Sounding good, Pipo!”

“Livin’ the dream, sunshine!” He replied, still singing.

She giggled once more and began swaying her hips a tad as she walked, enjoying the musical accompaniment that he provided. She swayed over to the phone and picked it up, pressing the key pads so she could check the messages.

There was only one.

“Hi, sweetheart. It’s mom…just calling to check in again. I haven’t heard from you in a little while…we’re starting to get worried. Your father called me the other day and asked about you as well. You should talk to him, he really misses you…I miss you too. Your brothers were wondering if you’d be home for…for Lenny’s birthday next week? Call me, please. I’m worried. I love you.”

The message was ended with a monotone beep, killing her mother’s voice the same way a flatlined hospital monitor cuts through the sad silence of a new loss.

She’d been so preoccupied that she hadn’t even realized her brother’s birthday was coming up.

She stood paralyzed, phone held up to her ear as her breathing halted in her throat. The loud beeping remained in her ear, and she was holding onto the phone so tight that her knuckles were turning white. Her other hand was clutching onto the cord attached to the phone from playing with it while listening to the message, and she was leaning against the wall. Her eyes closed.

TWO MONTHS EARLIER

”I made a bet with my nurse that I won’t make it to my birthday.”

“Lenny!” She huffed, reaching to deliver a gentle smack upside his head from her seat. He groaned over-dramatically, leaning away from her in his hospital bed. “Why the hell did you do that?!”

“We both know I won’t make it, she’s just trying to make me feel better,” he explained, and the nonchalant quality of his voice made her want to yell at him. “I figure after she loses you can pocket the money and buy yourself something nice.”

“How kind of you,” she commented, sarcasm dripping from her voice like the radiation treatment that dripped from the IV bag into his arm.

The sunlight that radiated from the window wasn’t enough to bring life to the pale green color of the hospital walls. It reminded her of puke, and all she could ever think about when she looked at the walls in here was how many people had died in the same bed her little brother was laying in. They didn’t let people bring flowers into the cancer wing, so the room was decorated with paintings of fields and daisies, as if they were the same thing.

“I mean it, you can’t be one of those people who completely lets themselves go after shit like this,” he continued. “When I peace out I want you to take that twenty bucks and buy everyone shots. Celebratory shots. ‘cause I’ll be in heaven and all that crap. Except don’t tell mom and dad, or I’ll come back and haunt you from the afterlife.

“You can’t haunt people if you’re an angel in heaven, I think that’s probably against the rules,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Who says I’ll be in heaven?”

“You just did.”

“Oh right. Well, I’ll figure out a way somehow. If I can’t I’ll just get the Big Man to make it rain a lot, right atop of your head,” he amended.

Even though the bags under his eyes grew darker and deeper every day, there was still life in his big brown eyes. He looked skinnier and sickly, and whenever he smiled it didn’t sit quite right on his face anymore.

She felt a pang in her chest at the realization that she would never see it the way it used to be.

“Well I think that you’ll make it to your twentieth,” she forced a smile on her face, leaning forward and pressing her elbows against the mattress of his bed. “It’s only what, almost four months from now? You’ve got that in you. And we’re gonna get you some of those obnoxious gold balloons that everyone poses with on their Instagram. You know, the ones that Kelly basically dry-humped on her twenty second birthday?”

“Fuck yeah, I might as well get some action,” he nodded, causing her to giggle lightly.

And then, out of the blue, his eyes fell shut and his head fell to the side.

Her heart stopped.

The beeping of the heart monitor was loud and echoed in her ears so profusely that she lifted her hands to her head to make sure they weren’t bleeding. A swarm of nurses and doctors entered the room and began yelling over one another as her little brother began to sieze, his body rigidly shaking. At least three pairs of hands were holding him in place, the entire room becoming a symphony of chaos and panic with the melody of a shrieking heart monitor setting the pace.

Somehow among all the chaos she found herself being spoken to by one of the nurses, the one who had brought the orange jello the week before.

“Sweetheart, you need to leave the room now,” she urged, her eyes pleading her not to make everything harder than it needed to be.

She nodded slowly, feeling prickling numbness run up and down her arms as she walked out of the room. The second she left the room the door shut behind her, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know that they had shut the blinds. She could still hear the beeping through the walls.

She rested her back against the door and slid down to the ground, immediately hugging her knees to her chest. She tangled her fingers into her long locks, eyes wide and staring at the large pot of flowers that had just been delivered to one of the nurses at the desk.

Her entire body was numb at that point, and if it wasn’t for the pounding of her heart in her chest, it would have felt like the closest thing to death without actually dying.

Her little brother was three years younger than her.

She had been raised in a house of men—her older brothers loved her dearly, but it was no secret that they pushed her around. All of them were football, soccer, and hockey players, and all of them were stubborn as fuck. Having that many older brothers had its perks: no one dared to pick on her on the playground, and boys thought twice before screwing her heart over. But it always felt like they were on one team and she was the outsider, the last one picked, the one they spent time with out of pity.

Her little brother was the love of her life.

She was absolutely enthralled with him when he was born.

When she was four years old she would push him around the house in his stroller and pretend that they were grocery shopping, or maybe at the zoo.

When she was six and he was three, the two of them played together constantly—he would be her student when they played school, or the baby when they played house.

When she was nine and he was six, he would always check for monsters underneath her bed when she woke up crying in the middle of the night. If that wasn’t enough for her, he would bring in a blanket and pillow from his bedroom and lay down on the ground beside hers, keeping her company so that she could go back to sleep.

When she was twelve and decided that she wanted to be a rockstar, he would play the drums, guitar, and keyboard in their air band all while she sang her heart out on the microphone.

When she was fifteen and he was twelve, she broke one of her mother’s vases after running around in the house where she wasn’t supposed to—he took the fall for her so that she would still be allowed to go to the upcoming school dance.

When she was eighteen and brokenhearted for the first time, he hugged her and rubbed her back for exactly two hours, and never once made her feel like she needed to stop. He sang Jonas Brothers songs to her because they were her favorite at the time, and he watched endless reruns of JONAS on TV until she fell asleep on the couch. Once again, he grabbed his blanket and pillow, and he slept right there on the ground beside her.

When she got accepted to university, he was the first person she told.

When she dropped out of university, he was the first person she called.

When she was twenty two, he was diagnosed with cancer, and her entire world fell apart.

She stood up off of the hospital floor and balled her hands into fists, turning around to stare at the number that has etched onto the door of her brother’s room—number 311—and she closed her eyes, the beeping still ringing in her ears like the screams of a mother’s heartache.

She turned around, suddenly, walking across the room with her hands resting firmly at her sides. There were tears prickling in her eyes and she was drawing attention to herself, but she really didn’t give a fuck.

She grabbed onto the rim of the flower pot that had just been delivered, the tips of her fingers dipping into the soil that was decorated with white specks. There was an array of white tulips that resided in the container, taunting her.

“Excuse me, miss—”

She picked up the pot of flowers and lifted it high above her head, taking a step back onto one of her feet before shifting her weight forward. Small specks of dirt landed on her hair as she send the flower pot flying forward, watching as it shattered against the wall with a loud smash. Everyone in the hallway and waiting area immediately flinched, and she heard a few gasps—but her eyes remained glued to the pile of dirt, flowers, and clay that landed in shards on the floor.

There was a large, dark smudge that was left behind on the pastel green walls.

She glanced over at the receptionist at the desk, who was staring at her, paralyzed with both shock and a bit of fear.

In the background, she still heard the beeping of her brother’s heart monitor.

“No flowers on the cancer wing,” she announced, emotionless.

She stared at the receptionist for a hard second before turning around, taking a seat in front of her brother’s room.

For the first time in her life, she prayed.

PRESENT

Hours of loud, thumping music of the bar had settled into her eardrums as she took orders and made drinks, thankful that she had the distraction for the night. For the most part it was a pleasant night—the regulars were all nice to her as usual, and there were a few new faces who seemed overjoyed by the personality to the place.

Everyone seemed to be in a great mood, except for her.

All she could really think about was the phone call that she’d had with her mother that afternoon. She’d eventually called her back after listening to the voicemail, and she’d been quickly reminded of why she’d never done it before. They spent about thirty minutes arguing over the phone over whether or not she should come home, and what she was doing with her life. 

To her, she was taking a break to decide what she wanted.

To her mother, she was running away like a coward.

“It’s not what Lenny would have wanted,” her mother had said.

As if her mother fucking knew what her little brother would have wanted for her.

She was wiping down the bar at the end of the night, her last customer having left about ten minutes ago. The silence that had been left behind was just as deafening as the thumping music hours before. 

Her jaw clenched and fingers aching from how tightly she was holding the rag in her hand. Even thought the countertop was already clean she kept wiping away at it, trying to scrub off all the dents and scratches that would never be removed.

“What did that bar ever do to yeh?”

Cal jumped slightly, turning around to look in the direction of the familiar voice.

Harry was wearing a loose white shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, with a pair of black skinny jeans to match. He was just as handsome (if not more) as the image of him she had in her head, but she had been so preoccupied with her troubles that she’d semi-forgotten all about him.

Her first thought was to be irritated with how clothed he was when it was absolutely burning hot that night, even though it wasn’t rational for her to be. The smile that had been on his features immediately faded away when he looked at her expression, as if he could tell that everything had gone to shit within the handful of hours after he’d left her that morning.

Did he do something wrong?

“Hey, is everything okay?”

She looked into his green eyes, and suddenly, everything that she’d managed to bury under the loud music and alcoholic beverages she’d made threatened to come undone. 

And it fucking pissed her off, how she could keep it so together for hours and be threatened to fall apart simply by looking into his eyes. It made her mad that he knew that something wasn’t right just by looking at her, and it drove her absolutely nuts that all she wanted to do was have him hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

She was already too attached.

“I’m fine,” she said coldly, turning back around to grab an empty beer can and shove it in the garbage that was beside her. She grabbed the garbage bag from out of the bin and turned away from Harry, walking around the establishment and grabbing empties from the tables. Harry followed her, watching her as she shoved each one into the garbage bag with a little bit more force than the one before.

“Hey…” he said, trying to get her attention. He couldn’t tell if she couldn’t hear him or if she was just ignoring him, but he was confused and rattled and it wasn’t a good feeling. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Harry,” Cal huffed, stopping suddenly and grabbing onto the garbage bag tightly with both hands. 

Her back was turned to him, and he couldn’t see that she was trying to keep herself from crying.

“M’not an idiot,” he exhaled, exasperated. “I know something’s up, s’this about last night?”

“No, it’s not about last night,” she half-whimpered, stiffening. She still refused to turn around and look at him, so he walked around so that he stood in front of her. Her face looked especially vulnerable under the bright neon lights of the bar.

He grabbed ahold of the garbage bag and waited for her to let go, reluctantly, so that he could set it down on the ground. He then grabbed ahold of both of her hands, but within seconds she was pulling away.

“Stop, Harry,” she said, delivering a verbal blow. Rejection washed through him, but something told him that it wasn’t personal, not this time.

“Why are yeh doing this?” He asked, his brows furrowed. 

The confusion in his face pained her deeply, and she asked herself whether or not she would have ever agreed to spend time with him if she knew she would become this attached.

“You don’t really like me,” she said, reaching to pick up the garbage bag from the ground. “You don’t, you just think that I’m damaged, right? I’m the girl who gets into fights and jumps off of cliffs, I’m dangerous, and that’s sexy to you, right? I’m a fucking enigma and it’s your job to figure me out?”

“No, that’s not—”

“You want to talk to me, get me to spill all my secrets, get me to be vulnerable so you can get a song out of it and move on. I mean, that’s all you’re doing here, isn’t it? You’re writing your music and you’re getting the fuck out? What did you think we were going to do then?” She continued, her voice high pitched as she forced her tears to hold themselves back.

“No no no, listen, you don’t understand—”

“What don’t I understand, Harry? Tell me. Please, tell me, why you like me so much, why am I worth all of the trouble?”

As he looked at her, he finally understood that she wasn’t actually angry with him. There was something deeper, something so much deeper that he was still unaware of which drove her anger and the pain that she was feeling. 

He could see it in her eyes—where her voice projected lightning bolts of rage, her eyes whispered sonnets of sadness, as if she was pleading to be understood.

“Come with me,” he said, hesitantly holding a hand out in her direction. “I’ll show you.”

She stared at the palm of his hand and then back up into his green eyes, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Okay,” she exhaled, and for a split second maybe he was everything that she needed.

She asked herself again whether or not she would have ever introduced herself to him, if she’d known this was where she would be a few days later.

And with every part of her being, she knew the answer was yes.

Kiwi: Part Six 

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