#the tweet that's like '(jealous of the blood in your veins) so it gets to be with you all the time and i don't' is very bruce-core to me

[lanternbats]

Bruce Wayne should be an old fashioned gothic romantic. When he actually falls in love with someone he should get a little weird and intense about it. “Alfred, how do I tell them I want to crawl into their very veins and pump their blood with my own hands without freaking them out” type shit. 

[hellerism]

destiel bingo pls

they simultaneously should be old and in love in their lake house cabin and getting weird and unhealthily obsessed with it. like they should have a human cas endgame where they’re just growing old and cooking together and living a quiet non hunting life but they should also be the tweet that’s like *jealous of the blood in your veins* so it gets to be with you all of the time and i don’t. specifically i’m thinking of my bloody valentine. i’m not a consumehimnatural girlie but cas should have gotten fucking WEIRD with his desire for dean there. oh and we got plenty of cas healing deans wounds but dean tending to s9 human cas’ wounds ohhhhh my god jeremy carver you will pay for taking this from me

[kissesinthekitchen]

Mine

Prompt: In which a jealous and protective Harry gets into a fight defending your honor, and you decide to repay him. 

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Smutty fluff. Word count: 3,446. Rated mature.

A/N: I’ve been lurking the Harry fic tag for a while now, and have become so inspired by many of the writers and stories I have encountered on here. This is my first ever Harry fanfic. Please be gentle. Likes/reblogs and any love would be appreciated! Enjoy. x

“That wasn’t quite treating people with kindness, was it?” 

You stare down at your boyfriend who is sitting on the hotel sofa, grinning up at you through his lashes and a gruesome bloody lip. 

“Fuckin’ tosser shouldn’t have been grabbing at you though. That’s right, innit?”

You press the towel of ice over his eyelid, which is already turning an angry purple and puffing up. 

It’s a fucking messy picture. Harry can only stare at you with one eye. His cheek looks equally upset, scratched and bruised. When he winces, his lip cracks again oozing blood and saliva from the pressure of mouth and teeth and dribbling onto his floral shirt. His hands are still shaking, swollen too -

This is not how you wanted to spend your last night in London before going home to see his family for the holidays. 

It was only supposed to be one night out. Dinner and then some drinks at a fancy club that Gemma had suggested months ago. You’d gone to the bar to grab some shots ---- when a red faced, tan man with greasy blonde hair had appeared at your side as you waited for the bartender to prepare your drinks. 

He’d been leaning against the bar. He used one arm to stroke your hair, his fingers dipping into your hair to brush back some strands behind your ear. The same hand then moved to train down the exposed skin of your arms. “Mmm,” he said. “Don’t you look like a present? My name’s Michael. What’s your name, love?”

“Oh-” you stuttered, trying to shrug out of his grasp. “Hi. Sorry I’m with-”

“With me, right? You’re a fucking stunner. Meant to be - that’s what we are.”

“Sorry. No. Thank you-” he was so close you had to turn in his embrace to be able to face the bartender again. You took the two glasses in each hand and tried to shift away but he wrapped the other arm around your waist, squeezing you. You were frozen. 

Your eyes tried to scan the crowd for Harry’s face, the music making you feel something akin to drowning as this Michael’s hands deepened their hold on your  skin. You froze as you felt them move to your ass. 

“I’m here with my boyfriend. Sorry.” you tried to recoil and raise the glasses up, so it would block him from trying to smash his face against yours. But it didn’t work, he took your protest as something enticing. It provoked him to move closer -- you could vomit. 

“Your what?” he tried to play along. “Where’s he? Wouldn’t let you outta my sight if you were mine.”

Then you heard a low, deep voice boom from behind you. 

“She’s here with her fucking boyfriend.”

“Harry-” you could hear the shrillness in your voice, your throat threatening to close around the anxiety and panic that had begun to pull you under. Your heart felt like it might soar with relief. He grabbed you to him so quickly, it felt like whiplash, the drinks jostling, tequila spilling on his expensive blazer. “Harry, I’m sorry-”

But he didn’t seem to hear you as he shoved you behind him. 

And Michael? The man was laughing. You watched him over Harry’s shoulder, your cheek pressed against his back. 

“You’re a fucking bitch!” he spit, before his eyes landed on Harry. “God. Don’t I know you from the telly?” He chuckled. His mouth widening when recognition dawned on him. “Oh shit! Fucking popstar!” His eyes fell on some of the people who were now turning around in the commotion-

“Harry,” you tried to tug on your boyfriend’s arm. “Let’s go.” 

But it felt like you weren’t there. His eyes were still focused on the drunk man in front of him. 

“You were saying something?” he said. His jaw ticked. The vein in his neck was pulsing. “Come on with it, then? Fuckin’ tosser.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, as if hearing him for the first time. He stepped closer to Harry. 

“Harry, come on-” you begged.

“You had something to fucking say-” Harry didn’t flinch, even as your grip on his tightened. Your nails digging into his skin-

“I. Said.” He blew air in Harry’s face. “You should keep an eye on your fucking slag.” 

Harry laughed. He did this when he got angry. Got sarcastic. There are times where you’ve argued and the sound was so cold, it felt like it could turn you to stone. It’s a memory you don’t think about often - the moments are so few and far between- but now-

In a blur, you saw Harry raise his fist and punch Michael right in the face. He threw the force of his body in it, the heavy rings on his fingers connecting with his nose at such an ugly, and gruesome angle. You could tell Harry’s reaction had caught him by surprise, he crumpled to the floor in one movement, hands grasping at his face, red dripping onto his fingers. He sounded like he was choking. 

“Harry!” you screamed. 

The crowd around you fell into a thunderous commotion, a crescendo of shouting combined with the music and flashes. The wave of people tightening to get better shots. 

“Fucking asshole!” Harry shouted. “Disgusting. Bastard. Fucking idiot!”

You tried to wrap both arms around his waist, tried to grab him away from the scene unfolding in front of you but it was too late. You could feel the way his skin seemed to vibrate under your touch. Michael grabbed for him and tried to punch him back but he missed his jaw, instead splitting his mouth in two. He tried to swing again on his crooked feet and hit Harry in the cheek. Harry made a show of spitting blood onto the tiled floor, his eyes narrowing as his fist connected with Michael’s face again and again. 

“Fucking asshole! Fucking asshole!” You saw spots of blonde hair, the commotion seemed to pulse around you. 

“Harry! Fuck, Harry stop!” 

You grabbed at Harry to pull him off Michael right as the guards of the club broke up the fight. 

“The fuck is going on here?” one giant, burly man said. His arms extended out to separate both men. 

Harry spit out more blood. “That’s my fucking girlfriend!” he glanced back to stare into your panicked eyes. “Fucking bastard grabbed at her. Wouldn’t let her go. Could we not have gotten some fucking help? Bullshit. This the kind of guys you want in your place?” Harry narrowed his eyes. 

“That true?” the guard turned to where Michael still lay in a heap on the floor. “You try to make a grab at her?” 

“I was-I” he tried to stutter around an alibi. 

Then the focus was on you. “He made you feel unsafe, ma’am?”

You could sink under the attention. You felt so small. Harry seemed to sense this, his bloodied hands moved to grasp you and just that - his hands on your forearms, holding in you place- was enough. You tried to find your voice. 

“Was just getting our drinks. He grabbed me, I couldn’t move-his hands were on my-”

The guard’s face fell, full of understanding. “Alright-” he grabbed Michael’s arms and pulled them back. “You’re out of here, mate. S’what you get for being an asshole.”

Harry’s head followed them. He was still breathing hard. 

Michael started to yell as he was carried away, “Oi! Fucking popstar, I hope you got some fucking lawyers ready. Won’t fucking get away with this!” 

“Harry,” you grabbed at him. “Harry-let’s go-”

But his eyes were still so far away. 

“Fucking bitch,” Michael spat blood in your direction.

“Harry,” you narrowed your voice, your arms locked around his waist. He stared down at you, as if finally realizing what happened, as if he was looking at you for the first time in a while.  His arm was tight around your neck. “Let’s go. Please.” 

Deepening his stare, he squeezed you tight with a quick peck to your head and finally -finally - let you steer him towards the exit. 

---

“Your mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Mum’s not gonna kill you.”

“She won’t get any photos of you at Christmas now that your face has been smashed in.”

At that, Harry seems to agree, you know by the silence you fall into as you continue working. The club owner was gracious enough to let you two through a private back entrance so you could try to avoid anymore prying eyes from the cameras on the videos you’re sure people recorded on their cellphones, as well as the photographers that had gathered outside in the commotion as a result of a bunch of tweets and texts going out. 

You’d been silent on the ride home too, holding Harry’s clasped hands in your lap. Insisting on asking the Uber driver to stop at a pharmacy so you could grab a first aid kit to patch your boyfriend back together again. 

You asked the driver to go around the back of the hotel to avoid some photographers that had already gathered outside. And once there, you carried Harry up to the hotel room with his arm staying slung over your shoulder, keeping you tight to his side even when you had to take the bucket from the fridge down to fill it with ice cubes for his face. 

And now, sitting on your knees in front of Harry, you still don’t know whether to be upset with him. 

Sure, you’d been scared - horribly frightened even- when you heard the crack of that douchebag’s bone under his fist. But there’s a larger, almost unbeknownst part of yourself that you don’t want to acknowledge - the relief that had rushed over you when Harry had appeared by your side, his big hands moving you behind him. The way your heart thrummed, the chill down your spine at the angry, dangerous look in Harry’s eyes. To see him look so out of control with his anger. So unhinged. God, it might have even made you a little wet. 

But you won’t tell Harry that, not yet at least. Not when he’s still hurt and simultaneously being a smug little shit as you treat his wounds. You let the silence draw out like the space between you. You try to ignore the way you can feel his eyes on you, you think it’s just him trying to make sure you’re okay, maybe waiting for you into go into hysterics - but no, he’s always like this. Some part of him always itching to be a part of you. As if to demonstrate it, he keeps one long arm reaching towards you, his large hand resting draped over your lap as you lean in to inspect his face. 

“Ice is melting. Let me change it,” you say, gingerly unfolding the hand on his eye. You scoop more ice out from the bucket and into another towel. “Press it down.” You remind him, as he holds it to his eye with the hand not on your leg. You unwrap a pack of bandages, alcohol, ointment and go to work. 

“‘It’s gonna make the paper tomorrow, babe.” He winces as you swipe the alcohol across his cheek, but you don’t know whether it’s because of the cut or the truth you’ve just reminded him is dawning. “Might even be online already. Probably trending.” 

“Shit-” he mutters. 

A long minute passes before he speaks again. 

“S’gonna be alright.” he whispers. “We’ll be alright.” 

“Mmmhmm,” you say back, your attention focused on cleaning the rest of the drying blood on his cheek. His usually flawless pale skin flushes in your grasp. 

“M’sorry about work.” he says, softly as if he’s embarrassed. You only nod in silence as you smooth another band-aid across his cheekbone, your fingers pressing against the sharpness of it - too distracted to really consider the gossip that will follow you back to the elementary school you work at. The nosey coworkers. Idly, you think -hope, pray- that the holiday will create enough distance. You don’t think the school would like another barrage of paparazzi trying to loom around the campus. You remember the scowl that had gripped Harry’s face when you told him that someone had tried to follow you home-

“It’s okay,” you tell him, your fingers grasping his face so he knows you’re serious. “You were only defending my honor.”

At that, he blinks, the smoothness of his lips trembling from a straight line into a curve. He beams up at you. “I was…?”

You straighten your back to dump the bloodied wash cloth and bandages into the bin next to you. “I should repay you for that, shouldn’t I?”

In the corner of your eye you see Harry perk up, the air shifting as he realizes you’re no longer angry or upset with him. At least, not anymore. 

He closes his eyes as you run your hands through the curls on his head, scratching your nails at the nape of his neck where he likes it best. You move onto your knees to slide into his lap and straddle his thighs. 

“God. I love your face. Hate to see it like this.” you admit to him, nuzzling close to where the buttons of his shirt are open, your lips pressing kisses to his throat and collarbones. “Wish I could kiss you.”

“Got other parts of me you can kiss, pet.” 

You smirk at him, pulling back to smooth your hair over one shoulder. “Is that right?”

“Can’t you feel me?” He chuckles. “Want you so bad, honey.” 

He hisses as you move to unbuckle the belt of his pants, your warm fingers digging into the waistband of his underwear to take him into your hand. He licks his lips and whines as you grasp him, pulling tight at the tip where he’s already throbbing and leaking and pushing down. 

He whines. “Mmm, so hard, love.” 

“Yeah? Getting into fights make you hard, Harry? Saw red when you saw someone touching what was yours?”

“Shit-” he says. It’s a grunt through his clenched teeth. The gravely sound of it makes you clench at the sound. “Yeah-yeah. You’re mine. Fuck. I don’t know what came over me.” He laughs, low in his throat. “I think I could’a fuckin’ killed him-”

“Should do something for you then, huh?” You giggle, a mischievous smile stretching over your lips. “How do you want me, H?”

���On your knees,” he says. “Want your mouth. Take me into your mouth, love.”

His eyes seem to find clarity for a moment, the deepness of his voice guiding you back onto the floor. 

Usually you pepper kisses down his abdomen, kiss every one of his tattoos but there is no time for that tonight. It’s not what he deserves. Quickly, you make work of his clothes, pulling his trousers and underwear down enough to pull his cock out. You move onto your knees to hover over him, hot breath and lips kissing up the length of him-

Your cheeks feel hot as you let his voice guide you, even though you’ve done this so many times. 

“None of that right now please. Put me in love.” Harry moans as you open your mouth wide, your eyes locked with his green gaze, never breaking contact as you let him use you to get off. One hand grasping the base of himself so he can feed you his cock. Your lips work over the thickness of him, something you’ll never ever get used to. Your mouth and chin becoming slick with your spit and his precum as you work your mouth on him. He feels heavy against your tongue. “God, you suck it so well. Take me so well, love. Fuck. Your mouth’s so soft-” 

“Why’re you so good to me?” he babbles on. Your ears feels like they’re prickling under the warmth of his praise. You would be smiling at him if your mouth wasn’t so stuffed with his cock. “God. Why’re you so good to me? Suckin’ me so well. And probably gonna let me eat your cunt later, huh? Have got such a pretty pussy too. My baby-”

You try to press your thighs together but it’s not enough. It’s as if every one of Harry’s grunts and moans is able to egg your hands on. It’s hard but you untangle your fingers from his to slip it under your dress and push your panties aside to press them against where you are aching and disappointingly empty. Your lips are firm as you moan around Harry’s length. 

You watch his neck roll back against the couch, the line of his jaw tipping up towards the ceiling as he swallows hard. His Adam’s Apple is bobbing. “God, does sucking my cock make you wet, love? You’re so sweet. Do you like it when I come for you? It makes you so wet-God. Fuck. I can hear it. I can hear how wet you are for me.”

One of his hands stays clasped over your forearm, which is resting against the tiger tattoo on his thigh and gripping the base of him where your mouth can’t stretch. The other is tangled in your hair, combing it back and cupping your cheek so he can stare into your face as you suck him off. 

“Fuck,” he says, as if disbelief is caught in his throat. “Let me see that pretty face stretched over my cock. You’re so beautiful, baby.” At that, you hollow your cheeks and hum back in appreciation. 

You can tell Harry’s close when he gets more desperate. His grunts and moans get closer together, his fingers more frantic to find purchase on something. 

“Don’t,” he grunts, even as his fingers have moved to grip the back of your head to keep you in place so he can fuck into your mouth. His hips are stuttering off the edge of the couch as he gasps, “You’ll make me come. Y/N. You’ll make me come. Oh god-”

His voice breaks, cracking around the sound of your name as he spills deep into your mouth. 

“Y/N. Y/N. Fuck me- Y/N,” he says.

You take him in deep, swallowing down the taste of him as he trembles and whimpers your name again and again. Not one drop left spared, because just like he is always so desperate to be a part of you, you’re so very desperate for every inch of him. 

You moan your appreciation back and hold him there until he starts to soften. The muscles in your jaw and throat ache but you’re happy. His fingers stroke the back of your head when you know he’s become too sensitive, and you let him slip from your mouth. You lick around the length of his cock, his balls, pressing lips to his stomach and cleaning him up. Resting your head against his torso and rubbing your fingers and lips against the leaves on his belly as you listen to him calm down. 

“Fuck. C’mere love-” You tuck him back into his pants and pull yourself up the length of him to press your mouth to his. His fingers grasp your face tenderly and clench in your hair, his moans deepening as he tastes himself on your tongue. “Thank you. God, I love you so much. I needed that. Needed you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, as you settle back into the nest of his lap. “Don’t want you starting a fuss over me. Or hurting this beautiful face. My favorite face. But still, thank you.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you, kissing the top of his head and the roots of his hair. 

“For what?” he muses, with a mischievous grin. He slides his other hand around your waist and presses his face into your throat and nuzzling the top of your breasts, cuddling closer. 

“For defending my honor,” You cradle his blistered hand up to your face and kiss the rings on his knuckles as you begin listing things off. “For not letting that asshole get away. For showing everyone not to mess with what’s yours.”

“Did what I had to do, didn’t I?” he says, looking up at you. Your heart clenches at the conviction in his voice. The crease in his eye somehow still making him more adorable, even all puffed up. The dimple in his cheek deepening. 

“You’re my woman,” he says in a voice that sounds like nothing else in his life could be more true. 

You kiss the side of his mouth, his cheek tenderly as he whispers into your hair-

“And I’m your man.” 

____

A/N: Hope you liked this! Fine Line has inspired me to try to write a story for each track on the album. This was what I came up with for Treat People with Kindness, as the joke y/n makes in the beginning popped in my head! More stories to come hopefully. 

[lordsister]

Loved Not Wisely (Yandere!Lawless x Reader)

Yandere warning: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, murder, sadism

Shifting, you winced as the ropes around your wrists dug into your skin, blood soaking the rough material. You had no idea where you were, but could make out bright lights beyond the blindfold covering your eyes.

One minute you were walking along, everything seemingly normal, and the next everything went black, the smell of chemicals filling your lungs. You woke up tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. From what you could tell you were alone, your captor missing. You had no idea how much time had passed or where you were, and as much as you struggled against your restraints, they didn't budge.

The adrenaline from your initial realization about what had happened slowly wearing off, you tried to think. Your first instincts told you to get free and run, run as fast as you could, but neither of those things proved possible, the rope around your wrists too strong. When struggling proved useless you took to trying to get the blindfold off, and when that didn't work you started screaming for help.

With each passing moment your panic grew because you knew...

It was only a matter of time before whoever had kidnapped you came back.

You screamed until your voice was raw, but with no luck. Wherever you were, no one could hear you. From under the blindfold, tears streamed down your face, your body beginning to shake. Racing with terror, your mind jumped to the worst possible conclusions.

'Why am I here? What's going to happen to me? Am I...Am I going to die here?' You choked back a sob. 'Why did this even happen to me? Who would do something like this? Why?'

Searching your memory, you tried to think of any time in the past where you'd felt like you were being watched or stalked, but nothing particular came to mind.

'Is this some sort of hostage situation then? Like for a robbery?'

Oh you and your naïve little mind. You had no idea what was really happening, no idea at all about what horrors were to come.

Biting his thumbnail, Hyde watched in wicked amusement as his sweet little love struggled and cried, caught hopelessly in his clutches. Your screams almost sounded like the tweets of a caged bird, batting its wings at the bars of its cage as it panicked, but birds always settle down after a while and so did you, your cries for help reducing to tears.

How beautiful you looked, tied up on stage like a tragedy waiting to happen. He knew it was a good idea to bring you to the theater. No other setting fit what was about to happen more perfectly.

Hyde could barely believe the time had finally come for him to take you after so many long months of watching. Finally, finally he could fulfill the urges he'd been feeling for you since day one when he accidentally bumped into you on the street. The Servamp of Greed couldn't say what exactly it was about you that caught his eye, just that it was a feeling, a feeling that had taken over his entire life.

What started out as a simple encounter turned into sleepless nights of thinking, wondering, fantasizing about you. Who were you? What was your name? What were you like? What did you love? What did you hate?

At the end of all his wondering, Hyde arrived at a single conclusion.

When he bumped into you, you smiled at him, asked if he was alright. You didn't glare or frown or tell him to look where he was going. No, you smiled at him and it was arguably one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen in his dark, tragic life. And if you smiled that meant you didn't hate him, and if you didn't hate him then maybe that meant you liked him, and maybe, just maybe it was more than that...

Maybe...just maybe...you loved him too...

Maybe it was his mind filling in for the complete lack of knowledge he had about you, but what it created was a dark seed planted deep in his heart, slowly sprouting as his obsession grew.

If he could fall in love with you in the space of a five second encounter then didn't that mean you could've fallen in love with him too?

It was only a matter of time before Hyde started stalking you, the desire eating away at his sanity making it almost painful not to. Day and night he watched you, uncaring when his tether to Licht grew dangerously taught. The Austrian boy no longer mattered now that he'd found you, the person he would make his new Eve.

Licht Jekylland Todoroki was the first victim of his obsession for you, killed by his own hands just like all the other Eves of Greed before him.

After the job was done, Hyde, no...Lawless felt as if he could finally breath easy. Now there was nothing separating him from you! Throwing away the name Licht had given him, he could barely contain his excitement to gain his new name.

The night before he kidnapped you, Lawless watched from outside your window as you slept fitfully, tossing and turning. What were you dreaming about?

A cocky smile crossed his lips.

Were you maybe dreaming about him?

His delight only grew as your thrashing progressed, an obvious nightmare playing out in your dreams.

Now here you were, those nightmares turned into reality, hopelessly ensnared in his trap.

Rising to his feet, the theater seat flipped up, red velvet smacking red velvet and creating a sound that made you still. Lawless chuckled. Now you knew you hadn't been alone this entire time.

Fingers brushing the polished knives on his belt, Lawless began to make his way towards you, relishing the sound his footfalls made as he slunk down the aisle toward you. From where he was, he could make out the rapid motion of your chest as you began to panic and he couldn't help but smile as he climbed the steps to the stage.

Now the show was about to start...

Panic and fear rose in your throat, choked whimpers escaping your mouth as footsteps neared you. You hadn't been alone? Your captor had been watching the entire time? A new kind of fear rushed through your veins, the true severity of your situation sinking in. You held your breath as the footsteps stopped, right next to you.

"Give me a name..." an unfamiliar male voice murmured in your ear, warm breath brushing your skin. "Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice..."

"Wh-Who are y-ah!" You yelped as a cold hand grabbed your throat, squeezing just hard enough that you could still breath, but barely.

"Give me a name!" the voice growled in your ear, sharp teeth nipping harshly at the shell. "Make me your own..." his voice softened, the grip on your neck loosening. Wandering fingers brushed down the column of your throat before tracing back up to your jaw. "Become my Eve, my Eve of Greed..."

'What...?'

Eve of Greed? You had no idea what that meant or what was going on. It sounded like your captor was reciting lines from a play.

'Is there some line I'm supposed to know? He wants me to give him a name...?'

Something cold touched your cheek, its sharp edge tracing to the corner of your mouth and you froze.

"Give me a name, give me a name, give me a name!" he demanded, the knife pressed against your face, threatening to break the skin.

Swallowing, your lips parted just slightly, a name escaping on a breath. It wasn't an ordinary name, but the only thing you could think of in this situation. With a crazy person holding a knife to your face and whispering Shakespeare into your ear, demanding a name from you, the name you gave him was "Othello."

...Because by no means was he a Romeo.

His relieved sigh fanning across your face, you felt him lean into the space between your neck and shoulder, his body pressing against yours. The blindfold loosened and fell away, allowing you to finally see your kidnapper. You would've called him handsome if it hadn't been for the insanity in his red eyes. Around his neck, a chain glowed, leading to your still-bound hands.

"A pleasure to meet you, Eve of Greed," he chuckled, his lips skimming down your jaw to your throat. "I'm Lawless of Greed. You can call me your Othello." The knife struck the stage floor with a clatter and you sucked in a shaky breath as his lips attached to your neck, his hands moving to grip the side of your head and your shoulder.

"P-Please, don't-!!!" A scream left your lips and you thrashed in panic as fangs pierced the skin of your neck. Tears flowed down your face and cries of pain escaped your clenched jaws as the vampire at your neck moaned and slurped, helping himself to his new Eve's blood and solidifying his bond to you.

A long minute of terror passed before your vision began to darken around the edges, blood loss bringing an end to your struggling. Faintly, you felt the vampire stop drinking, his bloody lips traveling up the side of your neck.

"Speak of one that lov'd not wisely but too well..." A kiss on your jaw. "Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought..." A kiss to the corner of your lips. "Perplex'd in the extreme..."

The last thing you saw was the glowing red of lawless eyes before you slipped into darkness, the tragic maiden in greed's cruel play.

A/N: This turned out to be tamer than I thought it would, but oh well. I do not own Servamp or any of its characters. 

[minimochijimins]

Only You

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety and depression.

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: this is a little angsty but has a fluffy ending because I’m a sucker for some fluff. (side note, this is one of the first writings that I’ve posted. Sorry if it sucks)

It’s dusk, the view outside your massive floor to ceiling window is beautiful. Your apartment is on the top floor of a 20-story building, so you can see pretty much the entire city from your living room. The breath-taking view was what convinced you into buying this place. As you look out the window you see the sun slowly setting on the horizon. You look down and see the hustle and bustle of the streets; the traffic thick with cars all eager to get home.

You sigh as you turn away from the window and flop down onto your sofa. You pull your phone out from the pocket of your favourite oversized sweater. You see that you have a message from Jungkook telling you that he will be home late due to practice with the boys. You send him an okay emoji while sighing as you get up shoving your phone back into your pocket.

You make your way to the kitchen and sit down at the table you’ve already set. You wanted to have dinner with Jungkook but since he’s going to be late (again) you decided to start without him.

You can’t help but look at your phone every few minutes checking the time but also wishing Jungkook would text you or call you saying he’s on his way home. You sigh again when nothing, but social media notifications light up your screen.

Clicking on one of your notifications you are taken to Twitter, where you scroll. You’ve already liked and retweeted a couple of tweets when something catches your attention.

Your blood runs cold, your stomach drops, and your heartbeat fills your ears.  A picture of a girl in the warm embrace of a guy who looked an awful lot like Jungkook. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at. Many thoughts run through your head in a matter of seconds. Is that really Jungkook? When was this picture taken? Who is that girl? Jungkook doesn’t have any sisters. You tried to be rational saying maybe it’s just a fan. Maybe it’s a family member, like a cousin or something. Maybe an ex? Please God, let it not be an ex…

The more you stared at it, the more upset you became. You screenshot the picture, clicked off twitter and opened Jungkook’s chat. You send him the picture with no explanation or questions. You left it hanging there, in the open. You stood up from the table, appetite lost, and headed straight for your bedroom not bothering to clean up the dishes you left behind.

Your phone starts to ring while you’re laying in bed. Jungkook’s smiling face lights up your screen. You let the call go to voicemail. As soon as it stops ringing you get a text from him saying he’s on his way home. You push your phone away and turn over closing your eyes.

You really didn’t want to have this conversation with Jungkook. You’ve always feared that one day he would lose interest in you and end up leaving. You were plain, your face was nothing special, and your body was fuller in the wrong places. There really was nothing interesting about you.

You were nothing like The Jeon Jungkook who was gods gift. The golden maknae. Mr. Good at everything. He’s so amazing and you paled in comparison. It was a wonder how someone like you even pulled Jungkook, to begin with.

These dark intrusive thoughts invaded your mind and you started to feel like you were suffocating. You hated being dragged into the darkest places of your mind, but here you were, fully immersed in your insecurities.

While you were wallowing in your self-hate, Jungkook had arrived home. He entered in your anniversary date into the padlock. He pushed open the door, Jungkook found a dim apartment. He pulled off his shoes and traded them for slippers he walked further into the apartment and found the kitchen table still perfectly set. His heart squeezed seeing the food that you’ve prepared left untouched. He knew that you were waiting for him to come home so you could eat together. He continued through the apartment glancing around into different rooms searching for you; he headed towards the bedroom. Jungkook slowly opened the door poking his head through the opening and called for you.

He found you curled up into a ball on the bed. You remained silent, unsure of the strength in your voice. He quietly walked over to you and sat down beside you. His hand hovered over you for a second; he was unsure of how to comfort you.

When you were upset you didn’t like to be touched, which he knew and respected. He pulled his hand back onto his lap. Opting to call your name instead, “Y/N”. His voice was soft and smooth, it ghosted over your skin like silk leaving goosebumps in its wake. Only Jungkook’s voice had this kind of effect on you.

When you didn’t respond he shifted on the bed moving closer to your side. He leaned down to your ear, his body hovering over your torso. His mouth is close to your ear when he whispers your name again. This time a shiver runs through your veins. You turned your head to look at him he was still hovering over you which made your heart jump in your chest. You silently cursed your heart. We’re supposed to be mad at him remember?

His large doe eyes focused on yours. “Are you mad?” He questioned while shifting back into a sitting position. You just shook your head still not trusting your voice. “Baby, this picture means nothing.” He tried to reach out for you, but you recoiled from his touch. Your heart squeezed seeing the hurt flash across Jungkook’s face. He sighed and pulled his hand back into his lap once again. “Well, why does it exist then?” Your voice was small and shaky just like you knew it would be.

“Baby, it’s really nothing. This girl started crying when she asked me to take a picture with her. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried comforting her.” He explained. You sit up, leaning against the headboard you pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them.

“Just because she’s crying doesn’t mean you have to hug her.” You whisper, jealousy seeping into your words. Jungkook suppressed a smirk, “are you jealous? Is that why you’re upset?”

Anger flashes through your body causing your voice to come out a little sharper then you intended it to, “Jealousy? Really Jungkook? Have you looked in a mirror, like ever? You’re literally the definition of perfection, you're gorgeous, you have the voice of an angel. There are literally millions of girls all over the world who are dying to get a piece of you. You could have any girl that you want, but you chose me… Why? I’m nothing. I’m not good enough for you. There are so many other girls out there who are a million times better than me.”

Jungkook’s face becomes steely. His eyes are as cold as ice. His glare alone makes your mouth stop dead in its tracks. “Don’t you dare.” His voice is low and dangerous, “Don’t you dare say you’re nothing.”

Your heart sputters and picks up its pace. You’re frozen, caught under his chilling stare. “You will not talk bad about my girlfriend, I will not stand for it.” You nod, and his eyes soften. His face and body relax back into a normal state.

He reaches up to place his hand on your cheek, “I love you,” he says while looking deep into your eyes causing your cheeks to heat up. “I don’t want any girl in the world. I want you. It doesn’t matter that there are millions of other girls out there. I’ve been all over the world and I’ve met a lot of girls, so trust me when I say this, there is no other girl in this world that even comes close to comparing to you. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re beautiful even though you think you aren’t which I don’t understand why? You have the biggest heart that I have ever seen. You help old people cross the road, you take care of stray kittens and find them a home, you volunteer to teach kids music. You take care of everyone else by putting them before yourself. Which I sometimes wish you didn’t because you need to take care of you, babe. You are the only girl that I want. You are the only girl that I will ever want. Only you.”

Tears are streaming down your face. Jungkook’s hand is still on your cheek. He wipes away your tears as he pulls you into a kiss.

[dawnofaqua]

Green Looks Good On You

Danny posts a lot of nudes and Roy doesn’t like it.

A/N: This is a prompt that was sent to me by an anon. I worked on this for a while, and I kept postpone the day I would post it because something bothered me about it and thanks to Lemonade, I found out what it is: that I don’t enjoy writing about some topics unless I make clear that I don’t feel the same way as the characters.

So, I thought I should make a little disclaimer before this: first of all I don’t know Roy or Danny and this is purely fictional, of course, but the most important thing is another one. Jealousy can be cute to an extent, but once it becomes toxic - as in “I want my partner to stop doing x because I don’t like it” it’s not cute anymore. Being in love shouldn’t mean you want to tear your lover’s wings apart just because you’re scared or because you want them all for yourself. That’s not love, that’s obsession and it’s not healthy. Please, if you ever find yourself in a relationship or friendship that makes you think “I don’t want to do this because x would get mad” consider leaving that person. Now, onto the fiction!

Roy had always been used to sleeping for only a few hours per night: when he moved to New York, between his work as a seamstress and his shows in drag at night, he would be able to sleep only around four hours before the alarm was ready to get him out of bed early in the morning. Even now that he was more successful and he could relax whenever he wanted, there was this rush, this need of doing more and more, to fill every hour with something. It wasn’t weird that anyone would call him a workaholic, and he never really cared. Relaxing was good and everything, but after a few hours he’d feel anxious, thinking that he was wasting time. D.J., once, had joked that he needed a Momo in his life, and Roy had just rolled his eyes at the time, snapping back and telling him that he was even surprised the other one would know the book at all. He was confident, though, that he wasn’t losing time. It was actually well spent in his mind, after all, his fans were always happy with his work, why would he stop then?

The thought that maybe he needed to slow down at least for a few days arrived during his traveling for the premiere of Hurricane Bianca. He wasn’t on tour with his show in May and until the end of June he wouldn’t have to leave the US, and when people told him he was lucky to have almost two months of relax, he just laughed and pointed at everything he still had to do. There was DragCon, tough he would be there only for one day to sign his new book, Hurricane Bianca was gonna come out, and the whole Drag Tots had just been announced after he worked on it with a few of his friends. To think he would actually take two months to just recharge was funny, at least to him.

But then, when the various premieres of Hurricane Bianca had finished, Roy just needed to open Instagram to witness how much he needed some time off. He had been posting photos and answered few of his friends as well, but he didn’t pay too much attention at anything - except for the whole Acid Betty thing, since everyone texted him about it - while he was travelling.

Roy was greeted with a picture of Adore on tour. He knew she was in England, and she looked happy in the picture - she was surely having a shit ton of fun. He just needed to see her smile to feel suddenly empty.

They talked in the last few days, mostly because of the way Danny acted a few days before. Shane texted him about the whole situation, and after reading his tweets, Roy thought he could give him a hand to understand what he did that night, talking so loudly at 4 am, was wrong. It wasn’t really cute, mostly because Danny was stubborn and childish sometimes, and he didn’t want to understand what Roy was trying to tell him. They didn’t argue, at least not too much, and while Roy wasn’t sure the other one had understood what he was trying to make him understand, at least he gave him something to think about. They texted a few times, mostly to know how they were doing, but it surely wasn’t like talking face to face.

That’s what made him feel empty. They had spent so much time together at the start of the year, he was growing used to having Danny around him most of the time, and once he was back on tour through the States, it was difficult to realize he couldn’t simply get up, call Danny and tell him they could hang out that night. It was something he then got used to all over again as soon as the tour kept going, but it still bothered him.

Roy clicked on the username of his friend: he decided to go through his latest posts, just to see what he has been up to, maybe leave a few comments and let him know he was thinking about him.

Most of the pictures were from the tour, obviously. There were also a few pictures of places he had seen while travelling, some with his friends… and naked pictures.

Now, that wasn’t something new - Danny had always been open about his sexuality and he liked to post pictures like this one, but the thought didn’t make Roy feel any better. He usually ignored them, because everytime he could feel his stomach tighten in a strong grip that resembled jealousy too much for his taste; just thinking about it was scary. Danny was young, he liked to have fun and Roy didn’t want to ruin their beautiful friendship in any way. He couldn’t have feelings for Danny, no, it was out of discussion.

He had to repeat to himself those words while he decided to stop looking at the photos, especially after reading all the comments of people praising him for his appearance. He didn’t want to get upset about Danny simply being himself and living his life, especially since they were probably gonna see each other the next day - he was going back to Los Angeles and the other one was coming back from England - or even to the people that commented. It wasn’t their fault Roy was jealous, not even Danny’s, it was his own for letting himself feel anything remotely romantic towards his friend.

He put down the phone and called it a night. The flight was early in the morning the next day, and he had to rest at least a bit if he didn’t want to look like a mess - and lingering his thoughts more on the matter would’ve never let him close his eyes. He got under the blankets, took a deep breath and tried to fall asleep, praying that his own feelings would’ve let him rest for once.

Of course, Roy couldn’t sleep at all that night. He kept turning around, waiting for his eyes to finally get heavier and let him slowly lose consciousness, but he had never been lucky with that. His brain kept reminding him of all those pictures, Danny’s face in everyone of them with that little smirk of someone that knew how attractive they were, the comments of everyone complimenting him… it was almost painful, at some point.

In the end, Roy got up for his flight with zero sleep, got dressed up and took the plane and went home. He managed to sleep at least a bit during the flight, even if he kept waking up for a few minutes and then fall asleep again, but at least he wasn’t as exhausted as he was when he woke up that morning. He also managed to stop thinking about the pictures, and when he arrived home he was just happy to see his babies again.

“Hi baby, come here.”

He called Dede, that was still jumping in front of him even when he sat down and took Sammy on the couch with him. She was always a little more energetic than the other dog, but that day it was more than usual; Dede was jumping and barking like she did when someone was coming and she could hear them already, but Roy wasn’t expecting any visitors. He was actually thinking to go to sleep for a while, since that day he didn’t have any work to do, and wanted to try to rest for the next day.

His plans were cancelled as soon as Dede sprinted to the main door, just a few seconds before someone rang the bell. Roy sighed, then got up from the couch after stroking Sammy’s head one last time and yelled a “Coming!” loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear him.

He knew Danny was gonna come back that day, but as soon as he saw his friend in front of him, that stupid grin printed on his face and his luggage behind him, Roy was surprised. After last night, he pushed any kind of thought about Danny deep down, where they were gonna be out of sight in his own brain, but as soon as he saw him they broke free and filled his mind. The photos, especially, were still there - and he could feel his blood boiling in his veins. For a few seconds he even considered slamming the door in front of Danny’s face, but as soon as he was able to find control again, Roy remembered that it wasn’t Danny’s fault that those pictures made him angry. He didn’t want to be harsh to him, so instead of slapping him, Roy managed to smile and even hug Danny, that let out a laugh while hugging him back.

“I’m back, bitch!”

He chirped in Roy’s ear, so loud he almost made him deaf. Roy chuckled, patting his back for a few seconds; he was still on the edge, but the more he could feel the warmth of Danny’s body against his, the more he was feeling comfortable. It was always a mystery to him how the younger one was able to calm him with just a smile or a hug.

“I can see that.”

The reply came out a little more harsh than intended, but thankfully Danny thought it was just one of his jokes and laughed again, breaking the hug. Roy held him for a few seconds more, until he had to do the same to not raise any question - even if it wasn’t what he wanted to do. After all, he missed Danny a lot in the last weeks, more than he felt comfortable admitting.

Roy glanced at the luggage behind Danny’s back and raised an eyebrow, giving a questioning look to the younger one.

“You came here straight from the airport?” When Danny nodded, Roy couldn’t help but sigh. “You live next door, you should’ve stopped there first!”

Danny didn’t look like he cared at all about what Roy was saying; he took the bag with him, entering the older man’s house and then said hi to the dogs with a high pitched voice. Roy just closed the door, and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit: Dede was trying to jump in Danny’s arms, but she was clearly too little to be able to, at least until Danny decided to get down to get her.

“I couldn’t! I wanted to see you and these babies… I missed you all so much.”

Danny mumbled, while he was busy covering Dede with kisses. He then did the same to Sammy, once they were all on the couch, and surprisingly enough he even gave Roy a quick kiss on the cheek. He had always been affectionate, but for Roy everytime he gave him that kind of attention, it was a beautiful surprise he didn’t think he deserved at all.

Of course, that was the only thing he needed to completely forget about those pictures. He smiled, simply happy to have his best friend back, even if he gave Danny a little punch on his arm.

“Ever heard of consent?”

“Come on, it was just a little kiss!”

Danny complained, making Roy laugh loudly - and he joined the laugh immediately afterwards. They spent some time like that, just talking: Danny was clearly not pissed at him after the whole 4am thing, he even told Roy he was right and that he was simply pissed in the heat of the moment, and then they talked about their travellings in the last weeks. Roy talked about the different premieres of Hurricane Bianca; they all went well, people seemed to like the movie just as much as the first one if not more and he was really proud of Matt and his crew’s work. He was hoping they would make another one, and maybe this time Adore could be in it. Danny was simply happy just thinking about the possibility of finally working on a movie together, after last year’s mess.

Then it was Danny’s turn. While Roy managed to witness how happy he looked on tour thanks to some of the photos, hearing from him directly that it was the time of his life and that he really enjoyed being able to interact with his fans and feel their love. Roy could listen to him talk all night, and even without saying anything at all, just like he was doing in that exact moment. His enthusiasm made Roy smile, and he caught himself almost stroking his head at some point, but then managed to stop before Danny could notice. He knew the younger one probably wouldn’t read too much into it, but after last night, Roy felt that if he tried anything remotely affectionate, he would give away what he was feeling. It was almost as if he feared Danny would be able to see through his chest and realize how his heart would beat faster everytime he was nearby.

Danny leaned on him, placing his head on Roy’s shoulder once he decided to stop talking. Maybe he was tired as well, after all he just came back from another country - and he was more than ready to let him sleep there, in his bed. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time; it was something they always did, now that they lived next to each other more than ever.

Instead, Danny looked up to him, his eyes twinkling like everytime he was ready to drag him out of the house, and then smiled.

“How about we go out and get something to drink? It’s been so long!”

Roy sighed; he knew Danny would ask him something like that, and while usually he was more than happy to go out with him as well, after the last couple of weeks he was just looking forward to a chill night on his couch, maybe with a glass of wine and a movie on.

“I think I’ll pass today. I didn’t get much sleep last night, I just really want to rest.”

Danny pouted, poking his arm for few seconds before he sighed as well. He was ready to hear the younger one complain, like he usually did when Roy declined his invitations, but instead he placed his head on his shoulder again for a few seconds before getting up. He didn’t look pissed off, he was smiling again.

“All right, but we’re still drinking and you can’t say no!”

He chirped then, and without waiting for Roy to answer him, Danny made his way to the kitchen. He knew where Roy had what he called “the good stuff”, and it didn’t take him too much to come back with bottles of different drinks and two glasses.

“You know, we shouldn’t mix those--”

“Oh shut up, I’m not a baby. I know what I’m doing.”

Roy let out a laugh, then decided to let Danny do whatever he wanted. After all, if he was sure they could get wasted without any problem, he had to know he was free the next day. While Danny was usually wild and ready to party everyday, he also loved his work as much as Roy did, so he probably wouldn’t drink too much if he knew he had to do something in the morning. It was always difficult for Roy to stop acting like his mother; he would always worry about Danny’s well being, even if now the other one was a little older and a little more mature, even if he never lost his childish vibe.

Roy didn’t want to sound too much like a party pooper, so he simply sighed and took the glass that Danny was giving him. After a while, they both had drunk a few glasses together, and they were definitely in a happier mood. They were still talking, but this time there were more giggles, and Roy didn’t feel the need to be less affectionate than usual. At some point, he even held Danny close, while the younger one was playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You’re finally back at being yourself, bitch. I was worried.”

Danny said after a while, a softer smile on his face. Roy didn’t understand: he frowned, looking at the other one with a questioning look, hoping he would tell him more about it. Danny simply shrugged, while he kept unbuttoning and buttoning back the same button on Roy’s shirt. He didn’t pay too much attention to it.

“Well, when you opened the door you didn’t really look like you were happy to see me. I almost thought you were gonna close the door right on my nose.”

His voice was cheerful, as if he knew Roy would never do that… and that was what made it painful to Roy. He actually thought of doing so, to someone that actually didn’t do anything at all to him. He didn’t want Danny to know, though, so he laughed a bit, scratching him a little behind a ear like he was a kitten to cuddle.

“I was just caught off guard. As if I didn’t know that if I closed the door on you, you’d take it down with kicks.”

That was enough for Danny to laugh and punch him lightly on an arm, and then everything was fine again. They talked a little more, but soon the younger one was more interested in going through social media and pointing at things that made him laugh, so he could show them to Roy. It was okay, until he suddenly stopped and smirked at his phone. Of course, Roy caught his expression, and he had to ask what happened.

“I’ve been stalking this guy for months, he’s so hot - and he liked one of my pics. Well, I wouldn’t blame him, my ass looks fantastic in that one.”

Danny exclaimed with a laugh, but as soon as he brought his eyes on Roy’s again, he stopped.

Roy didn’t like being jealous. It was a stupid thing to do, especially when you’re jealous of someone much younger, prettier and especially someone that wasn’t yours to begin with. And yet here he was: it took him just one comment from Danny about one of his naked pictures for the jealousy to be back as if he didn’t spend an entire day trying to not think about it. It was boiling in his body, hotter than any drink he had ever had, and this time around he wasn’t able to control it.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. Can you put your phone away? I don’t want to talk to someone more interested on his phone.”

The answer came out meaner that he meant, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted Danny all to himself, at least for a few hours, and knowing that someone was not only looking at him naked but he would also probably get to see Danny in person like that, was enough for Roy to want to punch something or someone.

Danny was still clueless. He raised his head from Roy’s shoulder, confused, but at least he put his phone away.

“What did I do? It’s something I said, isn’t it?”

Roy shook his head. He was drunk, but not enough to just put all the blame on Danny… even if he seen him way more guilty than before. He thought that the younger one didn’t have any kind of respect for how Roy felt towards him, he would always sleep around and then brag about it later - he didn’t care if he never told Danny about it. It had to be obvious how much Roy liked Danny, at least in his mind. He would never take care of someone as much as he did with Danny, at the point where he would get up during the night just to pick him up when Danny called him, drunk and in need of a lift. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to help him.

“No. I just don’t want to think about another idiot looking at your ass and jacking off to it.”

He growled, raising a hand just to put some distance between Danny and himself. The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t like the idea, the more he got angry. That’s why Roy didn’t like to drink too little - he just got meaner than usual. He either didn’t drink or drank enough to pass out.

Danny looked at him with his big green eyes, surprised by his answer… and then smirked. He fucking smirked and Roy hated it so much he was ready to punch him right on the nose.

“What’s so funny about it?”

He said after a few seconds, with the same tone as before. Danny didn’t look scared, he actually looked pleased. He even tried to get closer to him, but Roy wasn’t having it, pushing him lightly on the chest so he wouldn’t get too close. Danny pouted, and the fact that he was taking so lightly something that made Roy so angry was even more upsetting to the older man.

“So, you’re angry because a guy is interested in me?”

The way his voice was purring was distracting, but Roy was still way too angry to care. He crossed his arms on his chest, letting out an annoyed snort, and he even looked away. He felt so stupid, as soon as Danny said those words - it sounded like Roy was a stupid child instead of a grown ass man.

Danny didn’t like the silence. He grabbed Roy by the chin, forcing him to look back at him. As soon as he did so, he was met with two green eyes that were clearly having way too much fun for his taste.

“So, am I right or not?”

“Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t know - I just don’t like it, okay? And I don’t want to hear about it. Actually, I don’t even wanna see your nudes on the internet for everyone to see, but it’s not like you’re gonna stop anytime soon, no?”

He blurted out everything in a matter of seconds, so fast he wasn’t even sure Danny would catch everything - and it wasn’t like he actually wanted him to know, it was just a way for Roy to be able to be honest with himself, and simply stop having that weight on his shoulders. He didn’t look at Danny, snorted again and stubbornly looked away again, acting as a fool the entire time. Surely, if they ever had that conversation, that wasn’t the way he wanted to handle it. It was too late now, he guessed. Now Danny was probably gonna be pissed: he could already picture him getting up, telling him he was too controlling and possessive and that it was freaking him out, and then their friendship was gonna be ruined forever. Good job Roy, he thought to himself. There was no one that could mess his own life as good as he did.

But when he felt a weight on his legs and he found Danny on his lap, his arms already around Roy’s neck, he suddenly found himself at a loss of words. He didn’t have the time to react or anything, though: Danny chuckled, and his eyes were full of pure lust - and Roy was way too weak to be able to push him away, especially after waiting years for being looked in that way from him.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

That was the last thing he heard before getting dragged in the most heated kiss he ever received. Danny’s mouth was over his, then his tongue made its way in Roy’s mouth and all he could do was shiver, hold Danny closer and kiss him back as hard as he could. Roy still couldn’t believe it was happening: he thought about kissing Danny way too many times, but it was never like this. This was wild, tongue and teeth and hands everywhere - this was just perfect. There was nothing in his mind but Danny, the way he whimpered against his mouth when Roy’s hands squeezed his ass, his hands in Roy’s hair. It was a moment completely out of time and space.

But when they stopped and Roy was able to look in Danny’s eyes again, he didn’t even let himself catch his breath; his brain was moving way too fast, realizing that maybe that wasn’t anything Danny wouldn’t do with anyone else, that maybe he was just horny after days without sex and so on.

“Okay, what was that for?”

He asked, his breath a little faster than before - but he tried to focus on what that actually meant more than the act itself. He didn’t want to gets his hopes up, not so soon at least.

Danny giggled, sliding a little lower so he could place his chin on Roy’s chest. He looked like the cat that finally got the canary.

“For being jealous, of course. I can’t believe it worked! I owe Shane twenty bucks now.”

He added, pouting a bit. At that point, Roy was just confused, but it took him very little to understand what happened. He frowned, glaring at Danny.

“Did you two bet about this? Seriously? I thought you were better than that.”

His annoyed voice was cut out by another kiss. This time it was way more gentle, a quick kiss that had only their lips involved and nothing more. Danny then shook his head, a softer smile just for Roy.

“No, not in that sense- I just.. well, this is embarrassing…”

He mumbled, but as soon as he saw Roy’s serious face and he understood the other one wasn’t gonna cut him some slack, he sighed and continued.

“I didn’t think you were interested in me. I talked to Shane about this, and he was sure you were, even if I didn’t believe him… so he challenged me. He said that if I kept posting nudes, you’d get jealous and snap back. I didn’t think it would actually happen, but here we are.”

Roy raised his eyebrows, at a loss of words. He was gonna kill Shane first of all, of course: that was surely a dumb idea. Why not talk about it instead of playing with his emotions? This wasn’t a movie, they were real people and Roy found the strategy to be childish.

At the same time, though, he was happy. He still didn’t want to think too much of it, mostly because Danny didn’t say anything about liking him in a romantic way - he was a free spirit, it was nothing new for him to sleep with his friends. Danny didn’t even shy away from telling Roy he found him attractive, but that never escalated until that moment… and Roy didn’t want to be just one of the many. He cared about Danny more than he cared about anyone else, and he hoped the younger one felt the same.

Danny was looking at him in complete silence. He was nervously biting his lips, and Roy almost made him stop with another kiss - but that wasn’t the moment.

“What do you mean by ‘interested in you’?”

“Are you really gonna make me say it out loud?”

Danny complained, with a deep sigh once Roy simply nodded in response. Maybe he was being way too cautious, but after way too many heartbreaks, he couldn’t simply jump in the void without knowing if someone was gonna catch him on the other side.

“I like you. I always have, but there was this aura coming from you that told me you didn’t want anyone that close to you. It was painful, watching you being beautiful and perfect and shit like that and not being able to be by your side but as your friend. But now… it’s different. Isn’t it? Please tell me that you kissed me back because you like me as well.”

His voice changed during the whole thing - he was begging him. Danny was begging him, to like him back, to not destroy his heart… and Roy still couldn’t believe it, but as soon as he saw his big eyes filled with fear, he couldn’t help but give him a soft smile.

“You fucking idiot. Why would you orchestrate something like this - posting nudes all the time just waiting for me to react - instead of talking to me directly? This is much better. And way more healthy.”

He added, caressing his cheek with a different feeling than usual. He was relieved, and it was finally starting to kick in that Danny actually liked him and for as long as Roy did. The only thing that was bothering him at that point was that they wasted a lot of time… but as soon as Danny’s face lit up, that wasn’t a problem anymore. There was nothing he cared about more than seeing that smile on his face, especially when he knew he was the one that made him that happy.

“Hold on, you’re not kidding right? You like me?”

“You fucking idiot, why would I joke about that?”

Danny laughed in response, a happy laugh that could be heard from miles away probably - and it was all for him, only for him. He gave him more kisses, way more enthusiastic than any of the ones they exchanged before, but soon they became heated, and Roy could feel Danny’s breath getting heavier against his lips. After all, they both waited for so long, it wasn’t a surprise that both of them needed definitely more than a few kisses to feel satisfied.

“I am so happy I could die, really, but right now I just need--”

“Bed. I know. I need it too.”

He whispered against his lips. Danny smirked, tightening the grasp of his legs around Roy’s hips while the older one, even if with some difficulties, managed to get up and lead him to the bedroom.

Roy wasn’t sure where they were gonna go from there, but one thing was for sure: he would make sure to make a fuss about every damn picture Danny posted of himself naked if it made him as hungry as he was that night.

___________________________

“So, no more nudes now?”

Danny asked him, his head resting on Roy’s chest. It was late, they didn’t know how much, but it didn’t matter in that moment. Roy stroked his hair, massaging his scalp until Danny sighed happily at the sensation, closing his eyes.

The older one raised an eyebrow; now that he was definitely more calm, holding the person that was now his partner, naked and warm, he was embarrassed with the way he behaved. He wasn’t a teenager, he was a grown man that knew what boundaries were - and he didn’t have any right to tell Danny what to do.

“That’s not up to me to decide. It’s your life, your body.”

Danny looked at him confused for a second. He held Roy’s hand, placing it on the older man’s stomach.

“But I thought-”

“What? That I wouldn’t let you keep posting pictures like those?”

Danny simply nodded, making Roy sigh. This is what he feared the most; he didn’t want to become the reason for Danny not to be himself. He already saw what that could do to any relationship: it would become toxic, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Danny in any kind of way.

“That’s not my decision to make, sweetheart. Do you enjoy taking those pictures?”

Another nod. Roy took it as a sign he could continue.

“Then keep doing it. I trust you, I just want you to be happy - and if that makes you happy, keep doing it. I was way out of line today… and I wanted to apologize for that.”

Danny got up, still looking confused like a puppy. He would look cute if Roy wasn’t worried about how he came across a few hours before - so he sat down instead of lying on the bed, waiting for Danny to say something.

“So you’re not mad anymore for the pictures?”

“No, and I shouldn’t have been in the first place. We weren’t in a relationship, first of all - and yes, even if you tried to get my attention, it’s still not right for me to get so mad at you. I will do better from now on; we’re a team, I support you and you support me. There’s no place for toxic jealousy.”

Danny smiled, leaning on to kiss him tenderly. It had been a few hours since the first one, but Roy still didn't have enough of them. He kissed him back before he decided to hold him close, just as before.

“Alright. If you ever act like an asshole again, I will tell you.”

“Good. And if it ever happens again, you have the permission to make fun of me.”

The eyes of the younger one suddenly lit, and a smirk that Roy knew too well was suddenly making its way on his face. He answered rolling his eyes, even if then he couldn’t help but smile.

“And you won’t talk back?”

“I won’t talk back.”

“Wow. You will regret this.”

Danny said with a laugh, that made Roy laugh as well. He really doubted he would regret anything that was happening in that moment, especially once Danny decided they needed to sleep and dragged him back to lie on the bed. Roy was actually relieved they had that talk, and when he closed his eyes, he couldn’t think of anything but how much he was looking forward to the next day, and the next one and the next one again.

[snelbz]

Prompt because I can never have enough angst in my life: Elorcan modern AU where they get in a fight and one of them leaves the house with hurtful words thrown at each other, one of them is severely injured somehow?? Idk really

This was only supposed to be like 1,000 words, oooooooooops.

————————-

“I just don’t understand why you’re so angry! I didn’t do anything!”Elide and Lorcan were in the kitchen of his small apartment, the latter leaning on the counter with his arms crossed across his chest, while the former had her thin arms braced on the table.“Oh, please,” he spat at her. “This Luca guy wouldn’t continually ask you out for no reason. You’ve never even told him about me, have you?”“Of course I have, Lorcan!” She said, spinning around to look at him. Her arms fell to her sides helplessly. “Every time he asks me to hang out after work, I politely tell him no, because I have you.”He growled, “Maybe I need to tell him, and not so politely.”“What were you even doing there?” She asked.Lorcan ran a frustrated hand through his long hair. “What? Am I not allowed to visit you at your job?”“You are,” she sighed, “But you kind of ambushed me.”“Ambushed you?” He asked, his voice raising. “I was trying to surprise you! I was-.”Cutting him off, she asked incredulously, “Were you checking up on me?”“For the last time, NO!” He roared. “I just wanted to come surprise you. But then I walk up and I see that asshole had his hand on your arm and then you, you actually touched his chest! And I hear him telling you about how he’ll take ‘good care of you’ at the party on Friday night? What party, Elide? Huh?” A humorless laugh left his mouth. “On second thought, maybe I do need to check up on you at work.”“I’m not a child, Lorcan.”“You could’ve fooled me.”“And,” she said, ignoring his comment, “you don’t own me.”With his long legs, it only took three steps until he was standing directly in front of her, towering down over her small frame. He grasped her left hand and held it up, letting the light catch on the diamond ring encircling her finger. “Do you see this, Elide? It means that you are mine, and only mine. You are not my possession, but you are mine, to protect, to care for, to love.” He let go and her hand dropped limply to her side. Turning around he walked to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a beer and popping its lid off.“Baby, I-.”“Just get out, Elide,” he cut her off, not turning around to look at her. “Go home. I need to…think about some things.”Her breath caught in her throat. He’d never asked her to leave. In all the years they’d been together, they always worked their fights out. “Lorcan-.”“Get out.” He growled.Breathlessly, voice shaking, she asked, “What do you need to think about?”“Leave, Elide. Now”Silently, Elide grabbed her keys off of the counter and her purse from the kitchen table. She walked to the door and with a hand on the knob, called to him, “I love you.”Nothing but silence answered her from the kitchen.————————-Lorcan knew he had overreacted.He knew he was an ass and that he should never have asked her to leave. He didn’t need to think about shit. He loved Elide Lochan, and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The happiest day of his life was the day she had agreed to marry him.This Luca prick at work was going to have to stop though. He texted her non stop and apparently had been asking Elide out every week without fail. He may need to make a stop in on Elide’s next day off.For the thousandth time that night, he rolled over and looked at her empty side of the bed. By now, her inky black hair would be draped across her pillow. Her clothes would be in a heap at the end of the bed. Her small frame would be curled up against his. He ran an exasperated hand down his face.He fucked up and he knew it. He rolled over and picked his phone up off the nightstand. She hadn’t texted him even once, hadn’t called him. He expected that she would’ve texted as soon as she got home, but she must have been pretty upset with him. She hadn’t tweeted or posted on Facebook or anything, which led him to believe she fell asleep as soon as she walked in the door.He could hear her cries in his head and he felt like a piece of shit for causing her pain. Swallowing his pride, he sent her a text.“I’m sorry. I’m a jealous ass, but I love you more than my own life. Call me in the morning. I love you so much.”He watched the little, blue bubble send off and waited for it to read “Delivered” underneath. Hell, maybe he’d get lucky and it would show up as “Read”. If it did, he’d call her. He’d blow her phone up until she answered and he’d apologize for being the piece of shit fiancé that he was.But it never delivered. The blue bubble turned green as it sent as an old school text message. Lorcan’s eyebrows rose and he decided to call her, to see if he could fix this now. It immediately went to voicemail. Her phone must have died.Sighing, he rolled over and put his phone back on the nightstand. He’d fix this in the morning. He’d go see her in the morning and he’d make everything right. But first, he needed to get some sleep.————————-There was a pounding on his door. Lorcan sat up and jumped out of bed, grabbing the 9mm he kept on his nightstand, next to his badge. The banging continued. A look at the clock on its surface told him it was just after two in the morning.Popping the safety off and loading one in the chamber, Lorcan crept through his apartment until he got to the door, where the pounding was still happening. A glance at the peephole had him groaning and setting his gun on the small table Elide had distressed and placed by the doorway. He swung open the door to reveal his partner dressed in his blue uniform. “What the hell are you doing here, Whitethorn? It’s two in the gods damned morning.”“Lorcan, we need to go, now.”Immediately, Lorcan was on red alert.“What are you talking about?”The man in front of him, the man he’d known his whole life and worked with on the force for over 4 years, that was pain in his pine green eyes. Pain and pity.“It’s Elide.” His heart stopped. “Lorcan, there’s been an accident.”————————-Rowan was just starting his overnight patrol when he got a call over his radio about an accident involving an overturned vehicle on South Terrasen Rd, headed towards Adarlan. Since he had just made a stop nearby, he radioed that he was close and turned on his lights.As he approached the accident, he turned his spotlight on and his heart dropped into his stomach.An extremely familiar car was wrapped around a tree, upside down.Rowan had pulled over friends and family members in his 4 years with the Erilea Police Department. He’d had to arrest former classmates and people that he knew. He’d even had to escort funerals of people he’d known his entire life. He’d never had a problem putting on the mask that made him “Officer Whitethorn” and staying professional. Until tonight.He jumped out of his patrol car, screaming, “Elide?!”He sprinted towards the wreckage, calling her name, listening for her to reply. He heard nothing.Grabbing his radio at his shoulder, he called out, “This is Officer Whitethorn, I need paramedics to the accident on South Terrasen ASAP.”He reached the car, just as his radio went off. “How many passengers?”He got on his hands and knees to look into the car and almost vomited due to the fear coursing through his veins.Elide was hanging from her seat, held in by her seatbelt, thank the gods. However, her arm was crushed between her body and the door. It was twisted at an unnatural angle and he could see a bone piercing through her forearm. Blood was trickling from her head, originating from a wound he couldn’t see in her hair. She was unconscious. And he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.He radioed back to the dispatcher, “One female passenger, I can’t tell if she’s unconscious or de-.” His voice broke. “Deceased.”The radio clicked back. “Standby.”Grabbing at his shoulder, he called back, “Dispatch, I’m going to attempt to remove her.”Silence met him.“Officer Whitethorn, wait for assistance. Erilea Fire is on the way and-.”“The passenger is Officer Salvaterre’s fiancée.”More silence. A new voice came through the radio.“Are you positive it’s Elide?” The usually confident voice was shaking.“It’s- it’s her, Manon,” he said, wiping the sweat that was starting to appear on his brow.“Did you say deceased?”He closed his eyes. “I- I can’t tell, she’s not in good shape, and I-.” He paused and had to collect himself.“Get her out of that gods damned car, Rowan. I’m calling Aelin.”He took that as permission and sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands. With Elide unconscious, he didn’t have to warn her to look away. Pressing his boots against the passenger window, he brought his legs back and smashed his feet into glass. It shattered, sending shards everywhere in the car. Elide didn’t so much as twitch.“Elide?” He called out, hoping just maybe she would hear him and wake up.Crawling into the wreckage, he reached a shaking hand to her neck and felt for a pulse.He waited, his body going cold.There. There it was.It was weak, so faint that he could barely feel it.“Manon!” He called over his radio.“Go, Whitethorn,” Asterin’s voice called back.“She’s alive, but she’s fading fast.”A silent pause met him. “An ambulance is close, less than a mile away. Can she hold on that long?”“I don’t know,” he replied. “I haven’t even gotten her out of the car yet. I just got her pulse.”“Continue on, keep us updated.”Elide’s left arm was crushed by the door, her right hanging below her body. He had to do this carefully. One wrong move and she would fall from her seat and that could be it. He ran a finger along the seatbelt, and that’s when he noticed blood on her abdomen.A shard of metal from her mangled door was jutting directly into her side.“I can’t get her out,” he said into the radio. “She has a laceration on her left side. Wreckage and shrapnel. I don’t know if it’s hit anything major. I can’t risk cutting her down without an ambulance here.”Manon’s clear voice called back to him. “It’s almost to you. Asterin is tracking them. The EFD should be pulling up any second.”“10/4.”Rowan did the only thing he could think to do. He took Elide’s limp hand in his own and prayed. He prayed to every god and goddess he could think of, regardless of what they were the deity of. After a moment, he heard approaching sirens and crawled out of the car.The engine parked and men jumped out. In the darkness, they all looked the same and he couldn’t point a single one out until he heard “Whitethorn!”Running over to the Captain, he passed the other men and relayed the information he’d discovered to them. As he approached, Chaol grabbed his arm. “Is it really Elide?”Rowan ran a hand through his silver hair. “Yeah, it is. It’s not good, man.”“Have you called Aelin?” Chaol asked.He shook his head. “No, Manon said she would. I need to let Lorcan know though.”Chaol’s chestnut eyes were somber. “Go. Fenrys and Gavriel are on their way.” An ambulance was pulling up and a second patrol car was behind it. “Get out of here. I’ll call you if anything changes.”Rowan clapped the man on the shoulder and ran to his patrol car. Getting in, he dialed the number of his oldest friend, trying to figure out how he was going to tell him what had happened. He didn’t answer. Hanging up, he dialed him again. No answer. He left a voicemail.“Man, I need you to answer or call me back immediately, it’s an emergency.”He sent him a quick text saying the exact same thing.Turning the car on, he tried to dial him one more time. As he pulled away from the accident, glancing at it in his rear view mirror, he sent up one last to prayer to anyone who was listening.————————-By the time Rowan and Lorcan pulled up to the hospital, Manon had called Rowan, letting him know they’d had to cut Elide from car. They’d taken her to the hospital and she’d gone immediately into surgery. Not only had her arm been destroyed, but there was bleeding and swelling on her brain and her common iliac artery had been severed by the wreckage.Lorcan hadn’t said a single word since Rowan appeared at his door and he wasn’t about to push his friend to speak. Had the roles been reversed, Rowan didn’t know what he would’ve done.They sat in a silent waiting room, as one by one their friends filed in, in various states of emotion. Aelin and Lysandra were barely holding it together, where Manon was a stone wall of strength, the only indication of her fear being the vice grip she had on Dorian’s hand.Lorcan’s elbows were braced on his knees, his hands knotted into his long, black hair. Every now and then, his friends would hear a quiet sniff come from him, but for the most part, he was a shell of his normal, sarcastic self.Bits of every conversation floated over to him.“When did it happen?”“I wonder where she was going.”“She got off work at 10:30, I don’t know why she was out so late.”“Why wasn’t she at home?”“Because of me,” he whispered, and the waiting room went silent.“What?” Aedion asked, Lysandra’s hand held tightly in his own.“She wasn’t at home because of me,” he said again, dragging a hand through his dark hair and tying it in a knot at the back of his head. Faint tracks could be seen from tears that had slipped down his face. “We- We had a fight. It was stupid.” He pulled his hand over his face, wiping the tears away, sniffing. “I told her to get out. I made her leave. And now…” He trailed off, and the warrior broke down. No one had ever seen Lorcan cry. Elide was the only who had ever been able to break down his walls.Manon stood up, taking careful steps across the waiting room, and stopped in front of the broken man. He glanced up at her.And a silver tipped hand smacked across his face.The waiting room erupted into chaos. Dorian pulled Manon back across the room as she started to yell at Lorcan, who just sat there, blood pooling from the thin scratches she’d left on his face. Aelin stood up and got in Manon’s face, Rowan quickly grabbing at her to pull her back to her seat. Aedion, Lysandra and Asterin stood back ready to grab someone and drag them out if need be.“Excuse me?!”The group of friends silenced and found a stoic man standing by the entryway to the OR, wearing scrubs.“Which one of you is Mr. Salvaterre?”Lorcan’s head snapped back up and he stood. “I am.”“I need to speak with you.” With that, he walked towards the desk, away from the group.Lorcan watched him walk away and felt a small hand squeeze his own. He looked over to Aelin and nodded, before following the doctor.“How is she?” He asked, stopping in front of the man.“I’m Dr. Emrys Mistland. I’m the chief operating physician tonight.” He held out a hand.Lorcan took his hand and shook it but didn’t say a word, waiting for the man to answer his question.“Sir, were you aware that your fiancée was 7 weeks pregnant?”Lorcan felt like he’d been punched in the gut.“She was pregnant?” He stopped. “Wait, was?”The old man looked at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much we could do, with it being that early. We had to make the decision to focus on Elide.”“Is she okay?” Lorcan asked. “Is she awake? Can I see her? Can I talk to her?”Dr. Mistland gave him a sad look. “I’m afraid there’s a chance that Ms. Lochan won’t wake up. Not for a while, at least.”The world was falling out from under Lorcan. He was going numb. He listened to the doctor, as he explained Elide’s multitude of injuries, and how they’d stabilized her, but he only heard parts of what the man was saying.His Elide. His fiancée. The mother of his unborn child. When she’d left, she’d told him she loved him and he didn’t say it back.And now he might never have the chance.————————-Four days. It had been four days since he walked into this hospital at 2:30 in the morning. Lorcan hadn’t left once.Aelin and Manon and even Aedion had offered to stay so he could go home and shower, so he could get some good sleep.“I’m not leaving her,” was his response every time.Everyone had come to see her by this point, and with every passing day, more and more flowers were piling up. Cards were dropped off. Through out it all, Lorcan never left her side, never let go of her hand for more than a few minutes.He cradled her left hand so carefully, running his thumb over the empty spot on her finger. His other hand reached up and fingered the mangled engagement ring he had slipped onto his necklace.Standing, he brushed her dark hair back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He headed down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. He called Rowan to let Aelin know there’d been no change this morning when the nurses came in to check her vitals. Making his way back down the hall, he noticed the door to Elide’s room was cracked open. He knew he had shut it when he had left.Quietly easing the door open, he found a man in his early twenties looking over Elide’s flowers at the window, his back to Lorcan. As he stepped inside, the door creaked and then man whirled, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a card in the other.“Can I help you?” Lorcan asked, instantly going on his guard.“I, uhm,” the younger man stammered. “I work with Elide. Everyone wanted me to come drop this off.” He held up the card, and set it on the table with all of her flowers, cards and other gifts.“And those?” Lorcan asked, indicating the flowers.“I wanted to drop them off,” he said, blushing. “Are you her brother?”Lorcan was seeing red. This was him. This man was the cause of the whole situation they were in right now. If he would’ve just taken no for an answer the first time, the fight never would have happened, and he never would have asked Elide to leave that night. She never would have wrecked. They never would have lost their baby.In a clipped tone, he said, “I’m her fiancé.”The color bleached from Luca’s face. “Her fiancé? She wasn’t kidding?” He took a step back, away from the man who was almost a foot taller than him. “I thought that was just something she was saying, I never thought she meant it.”Lorcan closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths. There was nothing that he wanted more than to beat the hell out of the kid standing in front of him, but taking the high road, he said, “I think you need to leave.”“I- Uh.” He looked up into Lorcan’s murderous eyes. “Okay.”Without another word, he dropped the flowers on his chair and left the room.Making his way back over to the chair, he picked the flowers up and carried them across the room, dropping them into the trash can next to the bathroom door.“Surprised you didn’t beat his ass…”He spun around and saw Elide’s dark eyes were opened slightly.“Elide,” he said, his voice cracking, and he ran to her. He carefully placed a hand on either side of her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I thought I lost you,” he cried.“Not that easily,” she said, so quietly he could barely hear her.“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so gods damned sorry, Elide. I never should have told you to leave.”“You did nothing wrong,” she rasped, her good hand coming up to weakly grip his wrist, her thumb stroking the skin there.“I love you so much,” he said, unable to stop the tears at last. “When I found out what happened, the only thing I could think of was the fact that you told me you loved me when you left and I didn’t say it back, and I would never get to tell you how much I loved you again.”“I wouldn’t mind being reminded a little more often,” she joked, and he barked out a broken laugh.“Every single day,” he promised. “Every single hour, every single minute. I’ll make sure you know just how much I love you.”And for the rest of their days, he would.

[littleminter]

♛ just friends ♛

[chorusfm]

What the hell, John?

Let’s journey back for a moment to New Year’s Day, when John Mayer told the world via his Instagram account that his new album, The Search for Everything, would be coming in four-song waves “every month.” Mayer never explicitly said that he would be releasing 48 songs in 2017, but he definitely implied it. Strongly.

What he actually did was release two four-song waves—in January and February, respectively—and then announce a full-length album that would include all those songs, plus a few more. At this point, no one is sure whether Mayer will be continuing with the waves for the rest of the year or not. I don’t think Mayer even knows. On the one hand, CD versions of the new album label it “Vol. 1.” On the other hand, Mayer tweeted on release day: “And that ends an era: August ’14-April ’17.” Since The Search for Everything is an album about Mayer’s breakup with Katy Perry, and since the album is very much a “complete thought” on its own, there seems to be little reason that Mayer would continue this release cycle in any fashion.

The botched, contradictory rollout for The Search for Everything is bound to become the narrative of Mayer’s seventh full-length. That’s a shame, because there are a lot of things about Search that are very poignant and moving. As a breakup album, it’s less unique than 2009’s Battle Studies, which ping-ponged back and forth between dark, late-night loneliness and songs that found the beauty in being alone. Everything is more of a standard issue post-relationship album, following a narrative of a guy getting over a girl he used to love. There aren’t many surprises, either in the story or in the songs, but Mayer is still a more thoughtful observer of the human condition than most of his contemporaries, and that fact shows in set highlights like the wry, Timberlake-esque “Still Feel Like Your Man” (“I still keep your shampoo in my shower/In case you want to wash your hair/And I know you probably found yourself some more somewhere/But I do not really care/’Cause as long as it is there/I still feel like your man”) or the shattering “Never on the Day You Leave” (“It’s never on the day you leave/You can tell how it’s gonna be/To watch a girl become a ghost before your eyes”).

Despite his reputation as a cocky asshole, Mayer has always been good at getting vulnerable. “Stop This Train,” from 2006’s Continuum, is one of the best songs ever written about getting older and watching your parents age. The best songs on The Search for Everything are similarly insightful. “Never on the Day You Leave” is about how regret creeps in weeks or months after a relationship ends, as you realize all the little things you miss about that person. Mayer has called it “the saddest song I ever wrote.” It’s got competition for that title from “In the Blood,” which is also easily the best song on the record. A rumination on Mayer’s parents and their divorce, “In the Blood” asks questions with no easy answers—about a family torn apart and about how much of your parents’ flaws and mistakes are hardcoded into your DNA. “How much like my father am I destined to become?/Will I dim the lights inside me just to satisfy someone?/Will I let this woman kill me, or do away with jealous love?/Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?”

These highlights are easily more engaging and challenging than anything on 2013’s Paradise Valley, Mayer’s last record and still his most lightweight. But The Search for Everything can’t reach the heights of Mayer’s best albums, both because the release strategy has made it feel weirdly disjointed and because the sequencing does the songs no favors. Originally, when The Search for Everything was going to be 12 four-song EPs, it sounded like the perfect opportunity for Mayer to indulge all his different stylistic whims: blues, pop, soul, folk, country, and rock. Across the first two waves, that’s exactly what he did. Songs like “Moving on and Getting Over” sounded like they could have been on Continuum, while others, like the rootsy “Roll it on Home,” hewed closer to the Born & Raised/Paradise Valley era. Pulled together onto the same album, these songs are united by theme, but don’t jell together sonically.

The sequencing is also a mess. Mayer picks the right opener (“Still Feel Like Your Man”) and the right closer (“You’re Gonna Live Forever in Me,” a resigned piano ballad in the vein of Randy Newman), but everything that happens in between feels like a random jumble. The downbeat “Emoji of a Wave,” a serene number that wouldn’t be out of place on a Jack Johnson record, is pushed into the album’s number two slot, killing any momentum established by the shapeshifting, tongue-in-cheek opener. The emotional wallop of “In the Blood,” meanwhile, is immediately lessened by the next song, “Changing,” a lyrically basic track that should have been left as a b-side. And the album’s second half opens with “Theme from ‘The Search for Everything,’” a pleasant but superfluous instrumental. It’s telling that the record actually plays better on shuffle than in the sequence Mayer chose.

Despite its flaws, though The Search for Everything is a welcome return for one of the finest musicians and sharpest pop songwriters of the last 20 years. The album is ultimately more a summary of everything Mayer has done so far than a distinct new direction for him, but that’s okay. The chiming pop of “Love on the Weekend” calls back to Heavier Things and Battle Studies; “Roll it on Home” and “Emoji” would have been right at home on Paradise Valley; and roughly half the songs, from the soulful plea of “Rosie” to the sublime, Rumours-esque “Helpless,” see John returning to the fertile ground that brought us Continuum more than a decade ago. I’d like to have a more adventurous LP next time around, but for now, this one sounds pretty good to me.

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