#though i might suggest perching somewhere else

[aran-morinorea]

I am once again perched on your ceiling fan asking you about Non-Euclidean Nan Elmoth

The stranger returns, with two steaming mugs and some food laid out on a slim metal tray etched with flowers. It's more food than Laurefindelë would have expected him capable of preparing in the time he was gone. He sets the tray down on his desk and gives one of the mugs to Laurefindelë - the beverage is opaque and smells of cinnamon - and takes a long drink from the other.

“So,” he says, sitting down himself, “What were you doing in my woods, traveler?”

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 26

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

”You can do what now?” Xaden nearly yells after getting over his shock.

I can mind speak. I say confidently in his head, causing him to jump back a bit, earning chuckles from Liam and Garrick.

I had spent the afternoon practicing on them. Jumping between their minds with ease, as if already second nature to me. All I had to do was focus on them and it seemed my mind connected with theirs. Only proven by how easily I had reached out and done the same to Xaden. I was also quite proud of the name I had given the ability. Direct and explained it perfectly.

”Does Carr know?” He demands as he starts to pace.

I shake my head. “No, this happened after I left. He only seemed intent on seeing if my signet blocked out other mental signets. And I can now safely say Dain’s signet did not work on me at all. And that was without me trying to put a shield up. But that doesn’t mean its not something he knows about. Seems there are tomes that have spoken of my ability somewhere.”

Xaden looks as if he breathes a sigh of relief. I would have said it was in regards to my mind being safe from Dain, but I can feel something else fuelling his relief. But what that was, I wasn’t sure. With how much he had going on I had no doubt there was others higher up with signets I was now safe from.

”I assume you tried to put a shield up?” Bodhi asks from where he is perched up against some stacked fighting mats.

I smirk and nod. “I did, sent Aetos jumping back from me as if I had electrocuted him. Was quite satisfying actually.”

”Well that is something at least. Now we just have to be careful of ourselves around Dain. Sadly our shields will not work against his like yours has.” Xaden states as he stops his pacing and stands next to Bodhi.

”I take it you’ve tried?” I ask him.

Xaden nods. “Not myself, but we have tested the theory with other cadets with stronger shields. He gets right through them like a knife through butter. So the fact he could barely make a dent in yours without even trying just goes to show how strong yours are.”

”You said Carr mentioned tomes about your signet. He let slip what they were at all?” Garrick asks from where he sits next to me, arm draped over my shoulders as I sit tucked into his sides.

I shake my head. “Sadly no. But least we know there are some. As well as fairy tales and stories of it. It’s a starting point.”

The others nod in agreement. The slip of that information, intentional or not was at least a starting point. One that had me thinking of where to start. And I knew exactly where to start. And none of these guys would be overly keen on my suggestion. But I had a feeling we could trust her. With time and how closer her and Xaden we’re getting despite him saying other wise, she could be a great asset.

”And I might have a suggestion on where we can start.” The others all turning to look at me.

”Why do I feel like we aren’t going to like your suggestion sweetheart?” Garrick drawls from next to me.

I look up at him and smirk. “Because you wont. Not entirely anyway.”

”Spit it out then. Where do we have to look?” Imogen asks.

I turn and look at Xaden, his eyes widening as if already knowing my answer.

”Not where. Who. And who better than my brothers new partner in crime for life. Violet Sorrengail.”

Xaden had not been thrilled by suggestion, but had agreed she was our best bet once we could verify she wouldn’t go tell someone about my signet. Though as I had pointed out, there was a very high chance she knew about Dain’s and as far as I knew hadn’t told anyone about it, even with how distant they had become while she had been here. He promised once he was sure my signet was safe, he would approach her about it. But only him.

”Aetos did not want to let you two go did he?” Garrick muses as we walk up to the flight field.

Garrick and Xaden had come to grab Violet and I for some training. Not that I needed it, but I took the excuse to get out of classes for a little bit. Aetos had put Garrick and Xaden through the wringer to let us go. Mainly Violet who was yet to manifest a signet. Claiming she needed Carr’s class more than anyone. But as Xaden had countered she wasn’t going to manifest a signet suddenly in Carr’s class and had proven she had the strongest shield in our year. I did not miss how Dain’s eyes flickered to me at that comment. He knew mine were significantly stronger that Violets. But it wasn’t public knowledge. Violet had proven she had mastered the basics and Xaden had dragged her out before he could say no. He had tried to fight it with me saying signet needed training. But as I pointed out I had a classified signet and was not allowed to fully show it off in classes. And with that I had turned and walked out, a snickering Garrick not far behind me. Which now lead to us heading down to the flight field to catch up with Xaden and Violet who definitely had a head start with only having to go to the first year doors three levels down. Due to Garrick insisting I move my stuff, we had to go all the way up to the third floor.

”No he didn’t. He’s just worried we wont win squad games. He is hell bent on winning it.” I inform Garrick as we push through the doors into the rotunda.

”You guys will be fine. Between you and Liam you should have the combat challenges and that hands down. Sadly I can’t speak about the other aspects.” The way he speaks, I know he knows what is coming. Wing leaders and section leaders knew everything to do with squad games as they didn’t take part as they didn’t technically belong to a squad.

”Don’t get any privileges, from being your kind of girlfriend?” I tease as we approach the stairs.

Garrick smirks and goes to respond, but his face goes blank as he pulls us both to a stop, his arm going in front of my protectively. I follow his gaze and watch as Colonel Aetos, General Sorrengail and Pancheck approach us.

”We’re getting the grand welcome today it seems.” Muses Colonel Aetos as they stop in front of us. My guess is they had encountered Xaden and Violet on their way up. “And I finally get to meet Fen Riorson’s daughter. Well know you by your actual name now. It still amazes me you hid her for long General, none of us had a clue who she really was.”

Colonel Aetos’s eyes look behind Garrick and I, and I know instantly who stands behind us. That familiar, black unhinged presence at the edge of my mind. Garrick going stiff as he angles his head ever so slightly to see who stands behind us. The muscle in his jaw twitching, eyes darting between the group in front of us and the General behind.

”Trust me Colonel, was no easy feat keeping who she was a secret from you. Surprised you believed me so easily when I introduced her as my niece.” Melgren drawls from behind us.

”Helps when she barely looks like her father and brother. And if I recall, not much like the women Fen called his wife for a short period of time either.” A small smirk on the Colonel’s face.

”Must have taken after some distant relatives.” I say sternly.

He just chuckles. “Some very distant relatives it seems. Well don’t let us hold you up cadets.”

And with that they walk past us, but I don’t miss the feeling of their eyes on us as they walk away. Mainly Melgren and Aetos, who as I turn my head catch looking directly at me. Clearly I was also on someone else’s radar, but for other reasons entirely. Part 27

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books

[ken-dom]

Your Voice

Henry Letham x reader

Summary: Henry doesn’t know what’s happening to him, but at least you’re here. If only he could place you.

Author’s notes: Here’s the Henry comfort I promised! It’s a little bit strange (if you’ve seen the film you’ll get the vibe, if you haven’t, this might not make much sense) and a little bit angsty. If you want more Henry, I’m open to suggestions!

Warnings/content: gn!reader, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, blood, hospital, kissing, Henry lives AU

Henry winced when you stepped out of the crowd and reached up to wipe the blood from his cheek.

Everyone else was still motionless, staring at him on the sidewalk, making empty, detached comments he couldn’t understand.

As you swept his hair out of his face, he thought he recognised you from somewhere, but he couldn’t place where.

His eyes burned into yours. At your touch, his blood stained hand dropped to his side and his knees felt like they would give out.

‘Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.’

Your voice sounded almost angelic to him and he thought that perhaps he recognised you from a painting he’d studied once. Or maybe one of his own paintings.

He followed you without question, straight to your house and into the bathroom, perching on the side of the bath tub as though he’d been here a hundred times before. You carefully dabbed the blood away with a damp cloth.

There was no wound.

‘Good as new,’ you smiled down at him.

‘Why me?’ he breathed, indignantly shy under your gaze.

‘Don’t remember me, do you?’ you said gently.

‘I think I do but… I can’t remember why.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Do you need a rest? You seem tired.’

‘I’m so tired,’ he groaned quietly, rubbing his hands over his face and wishing he had a cigarette.

You peeled a trembling hand away to pull him up and over to your bed.

‘Here. Rest as long as you need. I’ll be right through there.’ You gestured vaguely to your living room.

Henry swallowed thickly, brows knitting as he thought it through. He took a deep breath.

‘Thank you,’ he nodded with an almost smile, eyes finding yours from behind the strands of lank hair hanging over his sad eyes.

The air seemed to thicken then, as if time and space were shifting around you, and the atmosphere pushed you forward into him.

It felt so natural, your lips on his, and he kissed you back without hesitation.

He tasted like coffee and cigarettes and smelled faintly of oil paint and turpentine. A repulsive combination on anyone else, but for him it worked. It would almost be sexy if the circumstances were a little different.

He was a needy kisser, seeming to draw your tongue into his mouth without you noticing while his fingertips teased at gripping you, but he wasn’t sure if you’d want that much intensity yet — or why you wanted him at all — so they simply ghosted up your arms instead.

But you pushed your fingers up into his soft, greasy hair and it finally gave him the confidence to grab you, pulling your body flush to his skinny frame and squeezing as though he were holding on for dear life, you being his only lifeline.

You, your lips, your touch. Your voice.

Where was that voice from?

You pulled back, smiling coyly while he dropped down onto the bed.

‘Hey,’ he called as you turned to leave the room, ‘stay with me?’

Pausing at the bedroom door, you turned back slowly, nodding with a soft smile.

He laid down and you climbed onto the bed to join him, making yourself comfortable as he laid stiff and flat on his back beside you.

You pulled him closer until his head was resting on your chest to stroke his hair.

‘Forgive me,’ he sighed, sad and confused and a little hopeful.

When he woke, the room was bright white. There were voices he didn’t recognise and electronic sounds that scared him a little.

His head was on a pillow. He wasn’t laid in your arms now.

He blinked slowly until something, anything came into focus.

And eventually it did. The shape of a person sitting on a chair beside the bed — a different bed to the one he’d fallen asleep in. And they were holding his hand.

‘He’s awake! He’s opened his eyes!’

And before the room filled with people, he realised it was you. It was your voice.

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 11: Texas Now

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Caught in the transition from the memory to the present, you blinked, refocusing on Jake's expectant gaze. The shift from recollection to reality brought a renewed sense of clarity, along with the weight of the unresolved tension hanging between you.

"Well?" Jake repeated, his voice pressing for a response, a mix of concern and impatience lacing his words.

"You'll be given as much explanation as you provided when you left," you stated, starting to turn on your heel toward the bedroom, when Jake seized your arm.

You turned your head back and looked at him. "Let go of me, Jake," you demanded and headed towards his bedroom. Jake following close behind and he closed the door behind you.

"Darlin', I'm sorry. I don't know how many times I can say it," he said.

You faced him, tears brimming in your eyes. "As many damn times as I need to hear it! You walked away from me, Jake! You might have needed to prove something to those above, but down here," you gestured emphatically towards the floor, "I had to prove myself!"

He stared at you, at a loss for words.

Frustrated, you threw your hands in the air. "And then you return, behaving as if just sleeping with me again would mend everything. Listen here, pal, those four years were lengthy for me as well, and it's not like I was without options."

"Well, I wasn't exactly lacking attention from women either," he retorted, the sting of the situation finally dawning on him.

Your gaze fixed on him, tears of anger streaming down your face. "So what?"

He met your eyes, a heavy silence filling the space between you. "I was married. That's what. I didn't even tell my closest friend. Imagine his surprise when I mentioned I was heading back home to Wisconsin as a married man."

The revelation hung in the air, thick with emotions and unsaid thoughts. You could see the mix of pride, vulnerability, and a hint of defiance in his posture as he shared this piece of his life with you. It was a side of him that few got to see—the side that made life-altering decisions based on what he felt in his heart, regardless of the consequences or the opinions of others.

"Jake, that's... that's huge," you finally managed, your voice soft, reflecting the complexity of your feelings. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Were you afraid of their reactions?"

He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I was. It wasn't just about their reactions, though. It was about making something in my life purely mine, ours, without the world weighing in on it before we even had a chance to live it. What about you?"

"A month later, I removed my wedding band. The people close to me were aware of my circumstances. Then, I met someone who didn't seem to mind at all."

As you perched on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself, confusion clouded Jake's face.

"Doctor Dorian Stryker," you disclosed. "He approached me while I was in Wyoming, working. He admired my genetic research on cattle and suggested we co-author a book about it. Naturally, I agreed. Why wouldn't I?"

Jake moved closer and settled on the edge of the bed beside you.

"The research and the study went really well. He inquired about me, about my life." You turned to Jake. "I told him I was married to a fighter pilot who was currently deployed. He mentioned that he was the child of parents who served, so he understood what that was like." You inhaled deeply. "Then, there was a fair. That's where I met Chuck. I observed people dancing, having fun. I saw couples holding each other close and I wondered if that's what you still wanted." Tears began to well up in your eyes once more. "Dorian noticed me and asked if I'd like to dance. I agreed. We stepped onto the dance floor, and he pulled me close. I closed my eyes, Jake, and it was you I imagined holding me. Before I knew it, his lips found mine. When I opened my eyes and realized it wasn't you, I pushed him away. Just then, Chuck saw us and called out my name. I ran to him and ended up going to the hotel alone that night. I didn't encounter Dorian again until I returned to Texas. Our work was well-received by the professors, leading to its publication. Dorian attempted to reach out to me, but I refused to engage with him. By then, the house was finished, so I went back to Wisconsin, reached out to a local veterinarian and got hired, and focused on turning our house into a home, harboring the wish every day that you would return." Tears quietly traced down your cheeks. "I felt like I had made a mistake by pursuing my dream, just as you chased yours."

Jake reached out, drawing you into his embrace as you began to sob uncontrollably. "Oh, darlin'. No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I needed you, Jake, and you weren't there," you mumbled into his chest as you continued to cry.

"I know. I suppose I won't be winning any 'Best Husband of the Year' awards, but I'm here now."

You sat up to face him directly. "Are you really?" The sound of your phone caught your attention. You picked it up and glanced at the screen, reading the incoming text message. "It's Dr. Colson. He wants to meet," you said, standing up. "I need to clean up and head out." With those words, you made your way to the bathroom, leaving Jake seated on the edge of the bed, absorbed in thought.

You maneuvered the red F-150 into a spot in the guest parking nearest to the Agricultural and Life Sciences building. After freshening up, you had opted for a new pair of jeans, a tan tank top beneath a brown and tan lightweight plaid shirt, and finished the look with brown cowboy boots and a distressed brown baseball cap, your brown hair in a ponytail.

Exiting the truck, you made your way to the building's entrance, pushed open the door, and walked towards Dr. Colson's office. Finding his door ajar, you knocked.

"Come in," came the reply from inside.

You entered and halted in your tracks at the sight of a dark-haired individual seated in front of Dr. Colson's desk. Dr. Colson rose to his feet. "Y/N! We were just discussing you!"

The figure in the chair stood and faced you. It was Dorian.

Dr. Colson came over, and the two of you embraced. "You remember Dr. Stryker, right?"

Dorian gave you a nod, and you managed a smile. "Of course."

"Please, take a seat," Dr. Colson urged, indicating the chair beside Dorian.

With cautious steps, you moved to the chair and sat, feeling Dorian's gaze follow you closely.

Once seated, Dr. Colson resumed his place behind the desk. "We were discussing the upcoming conference this weekend. Dorian proposed that we include you in his genetics lecture."

You offered a smile. "I'd be happy to. I'll just need to organize my notes tonight. This was quite the surprise."

"We wouldn't want to impose if it feels like too much," Dorian added.

Turning towards him, you replied, "No, it's not any pressure at all."

"It should be manageable. We're primarily covering material from the book," he replied, his crystal blue eyes meeting yours.

"In that case, I should be just fine," you said, reassured by the familiar content.

"Then it's settled!" Dr. Colson declared with enthusiasm, handing over two passes to you. "These are for you and your husband. I presume he'll be attending?"

With a smile, you responded, "Yes, he will be."

Dr. Colson extended two tickets towards you. "These are for the reception on Saturday night. I'm eager to meet your husband."

Gratefully, you accepted the tickets. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

Standing up, you quickly made your way out the door.

As you stepped out of the Agriculture and Science building and neared your truck, a familiar voice calling your name halted your steps.

Turning around, you recognized Dorian approaching you. His six-foot-two frame was clad in jeans, a polo shirt, and tennis shoes, his midnight black hair combed to such perfection that not a single strand was out of place.

When he reached you, he observed, "You're quick."

"I have some preparations for this weekend, Dorian. What's up?" you asked, slightly rushed.

His piercing blue eyes scanned you briefly. "It's nice to see you again, Y/N."

"Likewise, Dorian. Was there something you needed?"

He passed a hand through his hair, a gesture of hesitation or perhaps unease. "I wanted to… apologize for last time��"

"It's fine. I've moved past it," you reassured him quickly.

"Are you and your husband back together then?"

"We never really parted, aside from his deployment."

"That's not what I heard," he countered, a hint of doubt in his tone.

"You shouldn't always listen to what people say," you replied, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Look, I really need to go." Turning, you began to walk toward your truck, eager to leave the conversation behind.

"I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he suddenly blurted out, causing you to pause momentarily.

You spun back to face him, your expression firm. "Well, I never spent my time thinking about you. Goodbye, Dorian." With those final words, you turned again and continued on your way to the truck, leaving the conversation—and Dorian—behind.

You pulled the truck to a stop outside the garage at your in-laws' house, reached over to grab the garment bag holding your dress for the next evening, and then stepped out of the truck.

As you stepped inside the house, Cindy was there to greet you warmly. "Oh, Y/N! There's something wrong with one of the horses. I need you to take a look. Here, let me take your garment bag and hang it up for you," she offered, reaching for the bag you carried. "I was about to call the local vet, but since you're here, I thought maybe…"

You offered her a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I'll check on him."

"He's in the back ring," she informed you, indicating where you needed to go.

"Okay." You walked back out the door and headed towards behind the barn.

As you made your way around the building, your gaze lifted to find Jake perched atop his chestnut mare.

Pausing, you took in the sight of Jake. He was dressed in a white tank top beneath a red and white plaid lightweight short-sleeved shirt, paired with blue jeans. His look was completed with black cowboy boots and a tan cowboy hat resting atop his head.

"So, was the hurt horse your idea?" you inquired.

"Yes, Ma'am," he responded with a nod, then extended his hand towards you after sliding back slightly on the saddle.

You let out a sigh, torn between the need to prepare your notes for this weekends presentation and acknowledging Jake's effort to reach out. Deciding to give this moment a chance, you stepped closer and placed your hand in his. With careful movements, you positioned your foot into the stirrup and hoisted yourself up into the saddle, settling in front of Jake.

With a gentle noise from Jake, the horse began to amble forward.

"Where are we headed?" you inquired, curious about his intentions.

"It's a surprise," he responded, his voice carrying the thick Texas accent that always seemed to deepen when he returned home.

You leaned back, finding comfort in the warmth of his chest as the horse meandered slowly through the open field.

Tags:

@buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

[ejzah]

Collateral Damage, Part 9

***

Kensi spent the next two weeks recuperating. Realistically, she didn’t need quite that long, but had encouraged her to take the time, and for once, she listened.

Instead of counting down every second until she could get back in the field, Kensi found herself enjoying the time off for a change. The first few days were uncomfortable and even painful, but after that, she went for long walks and spent the afternoon with Rosa when she got home from school.

Thanks to Callen and Sam, Deeks also made it home earlier than usual most evenings, which meant they all had time together as a family. It was nice. Better than nice. For the first time in years, Kensi felt settled in a way that didn’t leave her looking for more; she no longer craved the constant danger and action.

The night before she was supposed to return from medical leave, she and Deeks were cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner.

“Hey, why don’t you go relax, I got the rest of this,” Deeks suggested, wiping down the counters.

“Baby, I love how much you want to take care of me, but I’m not going to be immobile for at least a few more months,” she reminded him gently.

Deeks smiled self-deprecatingly. Setting the rag to the side, he encircled her waist with his arms tugging her into him. “I know. You’re just doing all the work with growing the Pastry Babies, so it only seems fair that I make up for it somewhere else.”

“You do,” Kensi assured him. “In so many ways. You don’t have to do it all.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” He kissed her cheek, his eyes filled with a warmth that felt like home. “So, you ready to be back at work tomorrow?”

“Actually, no.” Deeks eyebrows raised at her admission. She shrugged. “You know how we talked about me maybe taking a few more weeks off?”

He nodded. She inhaled shallowly through her nose, fiddling with his shirt collar. “I think I might want even longer. Or to put fieldwork on hold for a while,” she said.

Deeks had remained silent, the only change in his expression a slight widening of his eyes.

“So, what do you think about that?”

“Are you sure it’s what you really want?”

“Absolutely,” she said adamantly. “Getting abducted and not knowing if I would ever see you or Rosa again, if the twins—” her throat tightened and she shrugged. “It put a lot of things in perspective for me. Nothing matters more than this.” She took his hand and laid it over her stomach, just ever so slightly bigger, and pressed her other hand to his chest.

His eyes filled with tears and he kissed her, his arms firm yet gentle around her.

****

“I’ll see you in a little bit,” Kensi told Deeks, squeezing his hand as they parted ways in the bullpen. It felt odd to be back, almost wrong in a way even though she hadn’t been gone that long.

Now she just had to meet with Kilbride. He hadn’t been pleased when he found out they failed to report her kidnapping until after she was recovered. Fortunately, Sam and Callen had accepted the brunt of his ire, and Deeks had offered to quit on the spot if Kilbride had an issue with his conduct. Kensi had smiled at Deeks’ retelling of that moment.

She walked up Kilbride’s office, and knocked on the door. He opened the door himself, his lips pursing when he saw her.

“Hm. I thought I’d be receiving a visit from you soon,” he grumbled. He gestured for her to come in and shut the door again.

“It’s good to see you too, Admiral,” she said, and he smiled wryly, perching on the edge of his desk. “It’s good to see you back. I hope you’re well.”

“On the mend,” Kensi allowed. She felt that absurd urge to ramble that still overcame her occasionally in times of stress. Instead, she steadied herself. “Sir, I know my leave is supposed to end as of today, but I’d like to extend it.”

Kilbride’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Were your injuries more extensive than you originally thought? Your pregnancy—”

“No, we’re all very healthy,” Kensi spoke up quickly, resting her hand on her lower abdomen out of habit. “I’d like to keep it that way.” She looked just past him, remembering the moments when she didn’t know for sure that the twins weren’t hurt, stumbling through the woods, fighting off a man intent on capturing her by any means. She shuddered and breathed in deeply, squaring her chin. “I have two little lives I need to protect. Being kidnapped made me realize how quickly they could be taken from me.”

“Agent Blye, every day and case is not going to end with an abduction,” Kilbride said, his voice turning a little stern.

“Maybe not, but there are always guns, and bombs, and every other calamity we regularly face every day. I’d convinced myself that I could handle all of that until I was farther along in my pregnancy, but I was wrong. I never want to feel like that again with my babies.”

“Well, that is certainly hard to argue with,” he commented. “Are you certain this isn’t just the result of your fear talking? You might change your mind later.”

“I have a family to think of and I don’t want to put this job before them anymore,” Kensi explained simply.

“So is this your official resignation then?”

“No. At least not for now. I’ve requested an extension to my leave. I might return to fieldwork, or I might pursue another career.”

Kilbride nodded, then to her surprise, extended a hand. His grip was firm, if brief as he shook her hand. “This agency will certainly feel your absence. I wish you luck in whatever you choose.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kensi said, offering a final nod before she turned for the door. As she walked back down the stairs, she felt a heaviness lift from her shoulders with every step. She stopped on the first landing, staring down into the bullpen. Deeks sat his desk, head bent over his laptop.

There was her past and her future in one place.

“C’mon, let’s go see dad,” she murmured, pressing lightly over her bump.

[originemesis]

@deathinfeathers xxx

"Uh-huh? When I fall the fuck to sleep, you mean~? But sure, take your sweet ass time." A condescending click of his teeth is the balm for the ego she's prodding. "You're doing great, sweetie." And a swath of sarcasm- don't forget the sarcasm.

Of course he recognizes that psychotic glint in her gaze; how often has he seen it surface when she's merrily stuffing the mangled bodies of dead critters to display around her room like collectible figurines?

Granted, he doesn't exactly want to envision that process with her knuckle deep, but it's not like she's very generous with giving his mind somewhere else to wander what with her not even taking off her shirt and of course some of the aforementioned figurines perched on the headboard like imp shaped gargoyles watching the show taking place on her mattress with glass eyes matching the muddied shade of his pupils the more he attempts to lose focus on the activity of her talons only to find it's arguably more tolerable than considering the last thoughts of her looming taxidermy victims.

"Y'know..." He keeps up the endurance of half-minded musings with a surprising show of poise, one arm moving to prop under his neck between nape and pillowcase to at least angle his squinted gaze away from the devotedly dead audience in favor of trailing along the meager curve of her chest and the loose strap of a black bandeau with the ever charming message of 'SPREAD'EM, SLUT' in white, bolded impact letters. "I'm sensing a lil hostility here. You're not all bent out of shape because your made in house slosh for the slip and slide has that day old tuna smell, riiiight?" If there were directions on how to not invoke the pressures of a well directed finger pounding, he clearly hadn't read them- but such was the nature of mankind. Maps were merely suggestions and instructions were part of the packaging - to be tossed in the bin with the rest of the plastic and cardboard.

"Ow- BABE! I'm just saying. Somebody's gonna walk in thinking there's s'mores up in here." And with that uncomfortable thought, he wriggled in protest as her talons pinned his hips from their mission to get a little fun of the exchange. Son of a slut- "...you locked the fucking door...right?" The hint of a whine in his restless agitation is entirely rooted in his need to rut against her hip, or at least that's what he's convinced himself of even with the sudden barrage of her fingertips bullying the coiled pressure made tighter by the tensing of his stomach.

"-that's the whole fucking point, though?!" Getting excited, anyways. Or at least turned on enough to thoughtlessly grind on anything remotely reasonable in arm's length - and at the over teased points she often drove him to on a regular basis, he'd heavily consider the company of a cactus if it meant getting off this 'work' sooner.

"...the hell I am." He grumbles at the disgusting degree of coddling in her pecky praises, though the biting edge of the remark did little to lessen the heady glow seeping out of the ethereal freckles between his eyes and staining the rest of his face with golden heat. With the slotted hope that watching her trying to mimic his clearly mastered art of mindless thrusting might get him started on a path to rubbing one out in her pillow later out of petty spite, he shifts with the sudden flinch realization that she wasn't fucking around when she cocked the crook of his leg onto her hip and leaned in to slide her tongue along the twitch of his lips. Though the depth she's afforded opens with the dropped guard of parted teeth once the force of her sliding in to her mounting mission makes it clear that she's going to take all the lessons he'd given her prior and use them to fuck him over.

The tiniest tremble of a bottom lip tucked under a canine tip that he used to pin the low groan of disappointment threatening to escape behind as she withdrew from her preparations. Though it's a short lived reprieve that doesn't give him the chance to ignore her suggestion to give the swell of discomfort lying forgotten on his gut a couple of strokes considering the sudden squeeze of her talons in their task of raking him over top her toy like the devil might adjust souls over a bed of hot coals. Black-painted nails wrenched into the pillow behind him, flexing uncertain as his gaze wandered and failed to find the progress of a manufactured hard on...that she didn't even have to do the work for! And for that size? The fucking nerve of it-

"Augh~ha-?! Fuckin'...really? Just the tip, huh?" He husked after the initial yelp and tightening of his leg around her waist. "Might as well fuck me like you mean it-"

[persephoneacts]

It was a conflicting emotion, watching Jackson as his thumb swiped along the screen of his phone, hungrily consuming every last detail he could gather about her. She should have probably been grateful that he hadn’t recognised her – a rarity at parties such as the one they were attending. If she wasn’t familiar due to her career, most of the people at these types of parties usually recognised her because they had the same dealer. Still, she would rather he know the truth than think she was blackmailing him – or, worse, try to take advantage of her position and do to her what he so feared of others. 

His eyes roamed the length of each page rapidly and Persephone quietly willed herself not to overthink it, not to spread herself thin wondering which entry he was on, what was catching his eye, and what he might be thinking of her right now. In truth, a part of her had to admire the foolhardy way he’d tugged his phone free and taken her up on the suggestion to google her; There was no caution in his movements, no desire to spare her feelings nor trust her blindly. She would have done the exact same thing were the roles reversed. 

“No matter what those entries tell you, I’m not a bad person,” Persephone stated, forcing conviction that she didn’t quite feel into her tone. She didn’t always like herself, but she wanted to make it clear that, in spite of that, she still loved herself – even if nobody else ever would. She wasn’t some frightened victim who people needed to tiptoe around in some misguided attempt to shield her, nor was she the manipulative figure that the media had painted her out to be. She was brave and unbreakable, and Jackson Otto could trust her or he could take her to the cleaners, and she’d still never utter a word of what she saw to anybody. 

Despite their current standoff, Persephone couldn’t help but offer up a meek smile at the identifier. Eli’s Matty. While she only knew Matty through Maggie, she’d met Eli a couple of times, albeit only briefly. He’d always been endlessly polite, a charming smile and a shyness to him that would usually make Sephy wary – it felt sincere with Elias, though. And if the way that Matty spoke of him – fawned over him, even – was anything to go by, she’d come to conclude that Eli was just as lovely as he seemed on the surface. 

“Pretty blue eyes, madly in love with his BFF, and with a weird affinity for corgis? That’s the one,” she nodded. Still perched on the edge of the step, she cleared her throat and nodded over his shoulder, somewhere in the general direction they’d both stumbled from. “He’s downstairs, by the way. He’s the one I came with.” 

She wasn’t sure what she thought he might do with that information, but if he had secrets to keep, she didn’t want him to be caught off guard by the presence of people who actually knew him on a more personal level. Maybe Matty and Eli knew about him, maybe they didn’t, but it wasn’t for Persephone to leave Jackson to wander unknowingly into the Lion’s Den without any warning. 

She could already see the guilt on Jackson’s face, the uncertain way he averted his gaze a telltale sign that he knew he’d been too rash. She didn’t blame him, not really. She understood his predicament, and she knew just how addictive fame could be. In an ideal world, none of them would care what others thought, and nobody would waste their time seeking approval from millions of strangers who had no real baring on their lives – unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. 

“It’s okay. Seriously. Besides, you’d be surprised how many people get it,” she shrugged. 

Persephone still didn’t consider herself a warm person, but she had seen enough of the harsh realities of the industry to understand that more people were struggling to keep themselves upright than one might assume. It was a thankless world where they were expected to simply grin and bear the horrors that were forced upon them every day, and never bat an eyelid should they want to keep their jobs. Persephone had watched people stand up in a court of law and lie upon her name, lie to protect their own abusers, all just to protect their own status. It was a sad world. 

“I was. Not so much anymore,” she shrugged, crinkling her nose at the distinction. Of all the things he could hate her for, he’d opted for arguably the worst of her catalogue. “I mean, you’re famous, right? I don’t know shit about Formula 1, but even Matty seems to know an obscene amount about your career. When he’s not thirsting after you, he’s usually spouting useless facts about yours and Eli’s stats that nobody asked for.” 

She wasn’t entirely sure fame was something to be proud of, especially not from personal experiences. But even if it was, no amount of money could force her to do it all over again. While the idea of having fans might seem exciting to some – a group of strangers scrambling to tell you just how wonderful you are, to validate you and lift you up for nothing in return – she hated the attention she still received. Anonymity was simply a pipe dream these days. 

“Besides, that shit isn’t important. Not to me, anyway. I just...” she trailed off, grappling with what to say next, how to make herself clear. 

Dipping her head, she brought both hands up to gently rub circles into her temples, exhaling slowly as she took pause. While she’d managed to control the tremble in her hands from when he’d grabbed her, she found herself growing increasingly overwhelmed by the reality of the situation. In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from knowing something personal and intimate about Jackson, to him knowing all of the deepest, darkest, most traumatic details of her life. He’d somehow been one of the very few people on the planet that hadn’t known, and she’d offered the information up freely. 

“I just wanted us to be on the same footing,” she sighed, her voice small as she lifted her head once more. “I don’t know you, but I don’t wanna screw you over. And... there’s enough assholes with iPhones downstairs that I thought you might appreciate a heads up.” 

It felt, somewhat ridiculously, like a stand off in one of those old Western movies Jax’s ex had loved so much. He’d never understood the appeal himself, but he’d been forced to sit through so many that he knew the old tropes. Curled up underneath a blanket on his sofa, Jax hadn’t been able to take his eyes away from the screen as the two men drew their guns, tension palpable. The fact that Jax was a man was enough of a threat, a man with money and means, but this woman knew his secret. It wasn’t an even playing field by any means, but nonetheless, they were at an impasse, neither knowing if the other was going to play their ace. Jax would never - he liked to think he would never - but she wasn’t to know Jax wasn’t a threat. It was one thing to pay off the press, to pay off some disgusting, money grabbing guy he’d kissed in a dark and seedy bar, but as he reckoned with the very real option of buying her silence, the reality made his skin crawl. It wasn’t something you could come back from. And above all, Jax wanted so desperately for someone to be fucking kind for once. To keep his secrets just because, even though she owed him nothing, and he owed her nothing.

The blonde was the first one to break the silence, albeit barely. Her words were a whisper in the dark of the staircase, far from the lights and liquor and mess of the party. If Jax weren’t keeping a respectable distance, he would’ve had to lean in to hear her. Her words registered a beat too late, marking an awkward pause between her words and Jax’s reply.

“I’m not trying to look at you like anything.” he dropped his voice, guilt lacing every single word. He was being careful with her, like she was something delicate. It was insulting, to say the least.

He probably ought to stop squatting on the step below her, a defensive position, like she was raring to attack. His attempts to make himself smaller, to make himself less of a threat, were only working to further humiliate him. There was nothing scary about a five-foot-something blonde who probably weighed seventy pounds soaking wet. Jax ought to stop treating her as such, and so, a respectful three stairs down from her, he slumped into a sitting position.

Although reluctant to take his eyes off of her, Jax tipped his head back, letting it hit off of the railing with a dull thud as he turned the scenario over in his head. She’d promised not to say anything, had seemed genuine, but then there was the slip of the tongue. Jackson. Was he so paranoid to perceive it as a threat? To assume that this was her way of telling him she had his number, that he could not move anonymously through the world, fucking, kissing, even loving whoever he liked? There would always be loose ends lurking in the shadows, his undoing, however dramatic that sounded.

“What?” Jax asked, sharper than initially intended. He almost thought he’d misheard her, the words seemed so out of place. Turning his gaze on her, he realised she was not one to mince her words. “Why would I?” Something about the way her voice didn’t quaver, not even for a moment, made him mark her. Without tearing his green eyes from her brown, he fumbled clumsily into the deep pockets of his jacket. He spared a moment to pray to a presumably nonexistent deity that he hadn’t been foolish enough to leave his phone behind. But no, his clammy hand curled around the solid mass of his phone, nestled against the lining of his pocket. He let out a slow, relieved breath as he pulled it free.

Sick to his stomach as he was, it took him two tries to correctly enter his passcode, a mixture of perspiration and shaky hands making it a near impossible task. The sight of his phone background - his beloved husky, Hart, wearing a bandana around her neck emblazoned with his driver’s number as she sauntered down the empty track - restored a sense of normality, if only for a moment. Then the artificial white light of his phone was casting a glow across his face as he shakily entered her name into the search bar.

Persephone Blake. Why was that familiar to him? Jax’s eyes widened as the Google homepage loaded, revealing that the search had yielded around 107,000,000 results. At the top of the page he read the words: Persephone Blake, American actress and singer.

He glanced from his phone to the real Persephone Blake, trying to reconcile the low-quality, royalty-free images to that of the woman sitting on the staircase above him. It was hard to do so. In most of the photos Google had deemed most fitting to showcase her, and her career, she was extraordinarily young. Teens, pre-teens even. There were stills from some teeny-bopper, all American show that had been so popular it had even made it to his side of the world. Sara had been a little too old for it, but Mia had been obsessed. Jax scrolled sideways, throwing up more images. It was difficult to believe they were all the same woman. He never would’ve known the lead of that show, with the artificial laugh track and catchy theme song, was the same dangerously thin woman from the later photos. In others, she was bright and shining as she commandeered what appeared to be a Broadway stage, looking at her happiest.

He continued to click through the pages, aware he was being carefully scrutinised, but didn’t look up. She had a Wikipedia page, for crying out loud. Jax scrolled, greedy for information, gorging himself on the subsections that read personal life, drug use, and most disturbingly, abuse allegations. Jax moved easily through to the attached articles, skim reading as he went. There was so much, too much to even digest. The press had followed this woman’s every move from the tender age of thirteen, maybe even younger, Jax wasn’t sure. His stomach dropped. You didn’t even get this much shit when you googled him. His race stats, his net worth, some woman he was supposed to be dating. Sure, the gay rumours were there, but it was all buried. Nothing about this woman’s life was easy to bury, she was out there to be consumed by the masses, eaten alive. “Eli’s Matty?” Jax asked, the association falling from his lips easily. The man was always loitering around the track, looking bored and like he was too good for the entire industry, flirting with the pretty reporters. Jax always took a deep breath on days when the, admittedly gorgeous, man was roaming around the paddock, reminding himself not to let his eyes stray too often.

“I’m sorry. I made an assumption.”

Locking his phone, Jax held the device tight in his grasp, chewing on his bottom lip guiltily.

“I didn’t mean to take such a hard stance.” he said, no longer looking at the woman. Persephone. “I didn’t realise. Most people don’t know how difficult it is.”

He sat in silence for a moment or two, letting all of it sink in. Persephone Blake was just like him. Chewed up and spat out by an industry that had claimed to love her. But that was the difference between she and Jax. For now, they still loved him.

“You’re… really famous, aren’t you?” he asked, almost sounding shy. “You did that Halloween remake.”

[hauntedhokage]

Pollen Count

Kakashi Hatake/F!Reader

Summary: While on a mission to deliver documents, you and Kakashi stop for the night in a place where you probably shouldn’t. Something in the air didn’t feel quite right, despite everything else feeling perfect. Cross posted to AO3

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: sex pollen, dub!con, f!receiving oral, blindfolds, fingering, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

Note: I was struck by Kakashi brain rot during my Naruto re-watch. 

It was supposed to be a simple delivery task. There was a chance of enemy ninja, which made it not quite so simple as just delivering a couple pieces of paper. The nature of the documents required that two jounin be sent to take care of it. You didn’t know who the other jounin was, Tsunade said she had to do some reorganization of some squads to get you the backup you’d need since this document was now top priority over a couple reconnaissance and recovery missions. 

It wasn’t your job to know what was in it that made it so important, but you were very interested in who your partner would be. Hopefully entertaining but at the very least could keep up conversation. It was a long journey to the Hidden Sand, to spend it in silence felt like a fate worse than death. Team compatibility could be what made the difference between a mission’s success and failure, after all.

“Oh, sorry I’m late.”

Kakashi? Oh this was going to be interesting, indeed.

“Helping an elderly woman with her shopping? At dawn?” you take your guess as his excuse, smile on your face as he rubs the back of his neck. 

“Sure, let’s go with that. You have the cargo?”

You only pat your vest where the scroll was contained, and he nods before he suggests that you get going. And so you set out, being sure to act as casual as two shinobi heading out on a mission could. Nobody knew about the scroll, so it was imperative that you not act like you had anything that anybody else would want to see.

“We should probably think about camping somewhere or finding an inn to stay at for the night,” Kakashi suggests as the sun begins to set, and you nod before stopping to stand on a tree branch. “Which would you prefer?”

“Let’s get back on the road, and if we can’t find an inn by nightfall then we can set up camp.” At this time of year, it’d be dark in about forty-five minutes. Time wasn’t on your side if your hope was to sleep on a surface softer than your bedroll on the grass. Though there might have been an inn nearby, but you weren’t confident that you hadn’t passed it already due to how fast you and Kakashi had been moving.

For all your hoping, you’d been proven correct in your assumption that’d you’d passed the inn you’d been thinking of and that left you only moderately deflated as you turned off the main road with Kakashi to find a suitable campsite. Off the beaten path but flat was the goal, and you look through some tall shrubbery and smile when you see a clearing. It was really quite the scene with healthy grass, some flowers, and the river wasn’t too far away. The trees provided ample coverage, too, so it really did feel quite secluded. There was something in the air, too, something that put you at ease. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you also knew that you needed to stay on your guard while on a mission even if the environment told you otherwise. Something about deception and things being too good to be true. 

Kakashi offers to take the first watch, and you tuck yourself into your sleeping bag with hopes of getting some rest. Only it’s too warm, so you remove yourself from within the sleeping bag to instead lay on it in hopes that it’d be more comfortable. Only now it’s your vest that feels too heavy, so you sit up to remove it and take a moment to roll your shoulders. Kakashi was here, you were safe to lose that protective padding to get some sleep if that’s what it took. 

“Are you alright?” He asks from his perch in the tree, and you look up to see that he’d been watching you. “You seem uncomfortable down there.”

“Does it feel hot to you, Kakashi?” you ask, almost tempted to pull your shirt off but knowing that wasn’t the wisest move you could make. But it was so hot and starting to rub you the wrong way so it needed to go. Sooner rather than later. “It’s so hot out here.”

“It’s a bit warm, yeah, but I’ve been trying to tune it out.” He’s kneeling in front of you now, pressing his wrist to your forehead. You can’t see the frown, but you hear it when he sighs before he tells you that you’re running a fever. “You’re just hot, though? Not nauseous or anything else?”

“I honestly felt fine until just now when I was trying to lay down.” But you’re acutely aware of the fact that he’s still got his wrist pressed to your forehead, and now there’s his other hand on your shoulder and contributing to the heat you felt. “But now I’m just hot, and my clothes feel wrong.”

“Does it feel heavy?”

“Kinda, just rubbing me the wrong way, y’know?”

“Yeah.” So he was feeling it too, and that both relieves you and horrifies you at the same time. What if your perfect campsite was just a massive trap? That’d be just fantastic if all this was your fault. “It’s not a genjutsu, and there are no chakra signatures anywhere near us either. It’s almost like there’s something in the air.”

Something in the air? That was what you had felt earlier, but that something wasn’t making you hot. Kakashi’s hands on you were not helping, but instead were contributing to a different type of heat in your core that was not easy to ignore either. Where was the light and easy feeling that you’d had previously? Where did that go?

“I have to get out of these clothes, Kakashi.” You hope you sound calm, like you know what you’re doing, but you couldn’t even really think straight.

“We have to get out of here, we’ll deal with our symptoms once we’re out of the hot zone.”

“I am the hot zone right now!”

“And we need to figure that out, but losing your cool is not going to help. We’re not going to go far, there’s another clearing nearby and I think we should be okay there. Let’s gather our things and move.” The instruction is clear and, despite how awful your clothes felt against your skin, you follow them without question. By the time you’ve settled in the new campsite you can’t stop yourself, taking your shirt off with your vest and laying back against the cool grass in hopes that it’ll help you relax - even just a little bit. 

The air felt different here, sure, but you still felt too hot. A look to your left tells you that Kakashi was feeling the heat too, since he’d removed his vest and was trying to fan cool air onto his skin. There was another more obvious problem just south of the hem of his shirt, but you avert your gaze from your partner to keep from potentially making him uncomfortable.  

“Doing okay?” he asks, and you shake your head since you were still feeling too hot even with your shirt being off and cool air hitting your skin. 

“Still too hot, but I’m running out of layers,” you mumble, jumping nearly out of your skin when you feel his hand on your stomach. How he got there that fast was not a question you’d waste time on, since the man did train with Gai. What was more pressing was the physical contact he’d initiated, all he really needed to do was move that hand just a bit further south and you were certain that’d either fix everything and make the problem worse - but such was the shinobi way of life. “That’s not helping.”

“I thought not,” he mumbled, and you chance looking up at him only to feel yourself get so much warmer when you see him looking down at you. There’s something unfamiliar in his eye, and that has you equal parts excited and concerned at what that look could mean. “The air is different here, so we must have inhaled something back there.”

How was he still so functional? You couldn’t give a damn about what could have you feeling this way, there were more pressing matters such as your body feeling like it was on fire and the growing discomfort with how wet your underwear was getting. 

“Please stop talking,” you whine, your hand grabbing his wrist. His pulse is racing beneath his skin, his thumb starting to move against your skin until you let out another whine at the contact. “But keep touching me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Only if you want to.” 

He shakes his head, and you’re not sure what it is he’s trying to convey but you err on the safe side and release his wrist. You’re ready to sit yourself up, go hide behind a tree so you could rub this out and get it over with, but his hand stays firm on your stomach to keep you in place as he leans in to get close to your ear. 

“We shouldn’t do this, but I can’t pull myself away from you when I’m like this and you’re so willing.”

If he wasn’t wearing that mask, you’d kiss him right now. But he is, and that brings you to let him go so you could move the placement of your headband so it’d cover your eyes. Kakashi had to be uncomfortable in the mask, this was how you could ensure that he could be more comfortable while you both were dealing with the side effects of whatever the hell you’d breathed in. You hear him sigh before his hand leaves your stomach, and you pick up on the rustling of his clothes before his mouth is on yours and his hand is pushing at the waistband of your pants. Your hand starts to move, but is quickly pinned into the grass by Kakashi’s other hand as he moves to straddle you. 

“Please behave, I’m struggling to contain myself as it is.” The warning has you nodding, but your hips move of their own volition in an attempt to get some friction where you most need it. He pauses above you, then his hands are gone from you only to work at pulling your pants and underwear down. 

Your mouth falls open when his fingers push between your folds, the fire burning inside sated by the contact that has you relaxing into the grass. You hadn’t realized just how large Kakashi’s hands were until he had two fingers inside of you working to stretch you open more, and you knew you’d be fixated on those hands long after this situation was over and dealt with. A bridge to be crossed later, if you remembered after all this was over and done with. 

A forearm is pressed to your hip, those two fingers part your folds, and you sigh when his tongue slides through to lap at your essence while his thumb circles your already over-sensitive clit. Another orgasm comes and goes before you can process it, your hands moving to his hair to try and pull him away. Instead, his other hand comes to replace his tongue, two fingers pushing into your cunt easily while his thumb continues to play with your clit. 

“Are you going to come already?” He sounds amused, but you can’t formulate the words that you need to tell him off or tell him that he was right. “You can come, it’s alright. Let me taste you.”

You’re going to blame your current state on the fact that you were able to come just by him telling you to, that truly had to be it. But he sounds pleased and you’re ready to cry when he continues to lick and suck at your quivering pussy until you’re practically begging him to pull back and fuck you proper. You just needed him to fill you now, fill you and keep you full and fuck the neediness out of you. 

“Ask and you shall receive.” There’s more rustling, and you wish you could see what he was doing and how he was looking at you but the headband remains in place to keep your vision obscured. 

The blunt tip of his cock coming to rest between your folds has your eyes closing behind the headband, your fingers digging into the soft soil beneath you as he presses forward and stretches you. There’s no time or consideration for adjustments, you’d wager that Kakashi’s patience has worn out given the situation, and you’re not complaining since this is what you needed.

“Just stay put,” he breathes into your ear, his hand taking yours and pressing it into the grass beside your head. He’s still moving his hips against yours even as he speaks, the heat and desperation radiating off of him in waves as he presses a kiss to your cheek before he gently bites at your jawline. “Stay put and let me take care of us, will you do that?”

You nod, your compliance earning you another kiss before he’s pulling out. Before you have the chance to complain, he’s turning you over and pulling your hips up so you’d be propped up on your knees in front of him before he’s pushing back into you. There was no gentleness, no careful consideration of the environment, this was Kakashi on a mission to get you both off and hopefully stop whatever had gotten you both so worked up. His hands grip your hips hard enough that you’re certain there would be ten little bruises decorating your skin later, and he muffles his own sounds of pleasure by biting into your shoulder, it hurts but in the best way possible as he fucks into you at a pace you could only describe as being brutal. There was no rhythm or thought to it, he needed to get off as badly as you did. 

“You feel so good, y’know that?” he breathes into your ear, every other word punctuated by a grunt that has you weaker than the one before. There’s a new heat burning inside you, this one you knew how to cope with, and you move your hand so that you could rub at your clit only to hand Kakashi grab your hand and press it back into the ground. “I said stay put and let me take care of you. You need to come?”

You nod, your head falling forward into the grass when his fingers make contact with your clit. At this point you think your body may be too sensitive, and that has you arching back into him at the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers against the nerve bundle.

“Stop running from me.”

“Sensitive,” is all you can gasp out, fingers digging into the grass once again as Kakashi chuckles in your ear. “Please, I’m so close Kakashi.”

This time you stay put when his fingers graze your clit, and you feel all coherent thoughts leave you as your body continues to rock with his as his fingers begin rubbing quick circles while his thrusts increase in pace. All that mattered was him and your approaching orgasm, anything else would have to wait until you could breathe normally again. A thrust punctuated by a pinch to your clit has your body going rigid beneath his, and he’s talking you through the orgasm until his own hips stutter and he also stills. 

An arm moves around your waist, bringing you with him when he moves to lay on his side. The headband is moved but you keep your eyes closed even though your back was to him, not wanting to chance seeing his face. Things felt a bit more clear, but now you weren’t sure where the source of the heat was coming from now - the unknown inhalant or the close proximity to Kakashi. The grass was helping, though, which told you it was likely Kakashi making you feel so warm.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, a bit,” you whisper, staying on your side while he lies on his back. “How come you were so functional? We were both exposed for the same amount of time?”

“My mask must have acted as a filter. I had it off to eat, though, which was likely where I got truly exposed.” You’re quiet after that, really trying to think about it but your critical thinking still wasn’t truly there. You’d give yourself a headache if you tried, you were sure, so you choose not to think about it for now. “Well I’m going to keep watch, you need your rest if we’re going to continue the mission.”

“What if it’s not fully out of our systems? Shouldn’t we go back to the village for treatment?” You’re sitting up now, still looking away since you weren’t sure if it was safe to look at him yet, but the cold air on your back does feel nice. 

“I think we’ve established that we’re pretty decent at dealing with the side effects, no need to delay by going back to the village if we can handle it ourselves.” That has you looking at him, not at all caring about whether he was masked or not. He didn’t truly mean he’d fuck you all the way to the Sand Village if that was necessary, did he? “I think that’s the fun part, don’t you?”

This man was going to be the death of you, you were certain of that.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Closed Casket.

Commissioned by the very lovely @99shadowcat99.

Pairing: Yandere!Demon Brothers/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Toxic Relationships, Dehumanization, Codependence, Threats of Violence, Mentions of Death, Implied Imprisonment.

It was a closed-casket funeral.

For such a small detail, it bothered you more than it had any right to. You hadn’t been the one to arrange it, the one to speak to the undertaker and evaluate the damage – that was a responsibility that fell to her fiancé rather than you, a distant cousin, only brought up in conversations about postponed friendships and quickly thinning family trees. You’d done what you could to help, what a last living relative should do to help - paying for flower arrangements, speaking to financial advisors, sorting through her belongs and trying to guess at what might’ve held some sentimental value to someone more present in her life, but you never saw the body. No one ever offered, and you hadn’t known how to ask. She was gone, now, dead and buried, and you'd never gotten to see her, even if everyone who had said that it was probably for the best.

And it probably was. They were probably right. You wouldn’t feel any better, if you had.

And yet, you found it difficult to believe you could feel any worse than you did now, either.

Belphegor was curled around your arm. He had been since you came back from the Human World, slotted against your side, draped over your shoulders, and currently, splayed out on top of you, his face buried in the flesh just above your shoulder blade, his body forcibly tangled with yours in a way that was too awkward to be comfortable for both of you, a sacrifice he seemed more than willing to make on your behalf. You’d tried to shrug him off earlier, when he first decided there was enough space on the smallest loveseat in the common room for his strange, daily ritual, and when that failed, you’d tried to talk him into letting go, into loosening his grip enough for you to slip away when he fell asleep, into relocating to somewhere else, somewhere softer, somewhere with a pillow that could easily replace you when he was too busy tossing and turning to care, but Belphegor had always been so frustratingly picky when it came to where, how, and when he chose to sleep.

He’d chosen you, and he’d chosen like this, and he’d chosen now. There was little you could do to change his mind, after he’d already made it up.

Still, you tried. He wasn’t asleep yet, caught somewhere between permanently half-conscious state and a sleep deep enough to warrant medical concern for most living creatures, supernaturally inclined or otherwise. “Belphie,” You called, gently, pushing the temptation to try more forceful methods into the back of your mind. “Think you pick another spot? Just for today?”

“Can’t.” It was a simple response, his voice heavy with sourceless exhaustion, just as short and just as blunt as it had been the last time you asked. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, honestly. “You were gone. I can’t.”

Your frown deepened. You’d left for a week – nine days, at most. And Belphegor couldn’t have been awake for more than half of that. “That’s not--”

“He was lonely, sweetheart.” It was Asmodeus, this time, as he perched himself on the loveseat’s arm. He wasn’t any better than Belphie, nimble fingertips soon tracing aimless patterns over the side of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, taking up the space he could occupy since the space he’d like to was already in-use. “He’ll get better, in a few days. Once it sinks in that you won't be leaving again.”

You were out of practice. A month ago, you would’ve known better than to respond, than to ask questions to someone who took as much delight in festering doubts as Asmodeus did. A month ago, you would’ve brushed him off and found your way to Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night. But, it wasn’t a month ago, and you were tired. You were still thinking about that casket, and you couldn’t seem to think of much else. “What do you mean?”

“Oh?” There was a pause, a laugh, light and melodic and fluttering. You’d always liked his laugh. You could bring yourself to enjoy it, though, not right now. “No one’s told you, yet?”

“Don’t tease ‘em.” You hadn’t noticed how full the common room had gotten, not until Mammon spoke and you reflexively turned to face the sofa opposite to yours. He was standing, leaning against the back, his hands clasped in a way that’d put his anxiety on display far more transparently than his voice ever could. Beelzebub, too, his arms crossed over his chest as his attention shifted idly between you, the console in Leviathan’s hands, and the book splayed out in Satan's lap, his scowl serving as evidence of his annoyance. It always bothered you, how easily he grew frustrated by situations he chose to put himself in. It bothered you a little more, today. “Might as well spit it out, if you’re going to bring it up,” Mammon went on, shifting his weight, letting his eyes fall to the floor, then rise to the ceiling, then drift back to you. “There’s no point putting it off.”

“Weren’t you supposed to tell them, Mammon?” Beelzebub chimed in, absent-mindedly. If it'd been Satan, if it'd been Lucifer, it would’ve been pointed, malicious, purposeful. Beelzebub just sounded like he was trying to remind his older brother of something he’d forgotten. “You said you should be the one to do it, since you met them first. Then, when Lucifer said you wouldn’t be able to do it, you said that if the human threw a tantrum, you could just--”

“I didn’t say shit.” Mammon cut him off, his tone hostile, but it was a half-hearted anger, more petty than vengeful. “I said I could, not that I would, and Lucifer shot me down. If he hadn’t, there’d already be a deadbolt on every fucking door in the house. We wouldn’t be sitting around, talkin’ about it.”

“Every door?” Beelzebub looked confused. Then, he looked concerned. “I thought we agreed to just seal the exits.”

“I still think we should just use their bedroom,” Leviathan chimed in, never looking up from his hand-held. Something tightened in the back of your throat. Experimentally, you tried to pull yourself out of Belphegor’s arms, but he only held you tighter, and Asmodeus’ nails dug into your shoulder, rooting you back into place without a single word. “It’d be cool, kinda like a permanent save-point. We wouldn’t have to worry about baby-proofing the entire house, either.”

“We could use a leash,” Asmodeus suggested, never breaking his stare. He didn’t look away. You wished he would. You wished they’d, if nothing else, have the courtesy to wait until you’d left the room to start talking about things you didn’t know and didn’t want to know. “So we can make sure they’re always close by! Or, we could have Lucifer enchant a collar – having to hold a tether might get in way when I have to--”

“He’d never do it.” It was the first time Satan had cut in, but it was clear he’d been listening. His book was still open, his expression still concentrated, but he was tapping his foot, the disruption soundless against the thick carpeting, and you couldn’t remember the last time he thought to pretend to turn a page. He was listening, but he didn’t want to be. He was a part of this, but you doubted he’d every say as much out loud. You doubted he’d ever let himself admit he’d stooped to that level. “And if he did, we’d never hear the end of it. In a week, there’d probably be a new kennel in the catacombs, right next to Ceberus’.” He stopped, for a moment, shaking his head. For your own sake, your chose to believe the envy lingering behind his voice was his attempt at a bad joke. “You would prefer a bedroom, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”

He asked you a question. He was talking to you, now, directly, which was more than you could say for any of his brothers. It should’ve been an improvement. An opportunity, if nothing else, a chance to ask why Asmodeus was looking at you like that, why you could feel Belphegor’s careless smile pressing into your skin, but you hesitated, something catching in your chest. It felt too solid, too heavy, too rough and too jagged. It felt like it’d hurt to swallow down, later on, once the unease passed and you got over whatever scheme they’d planned out, while you were gone.

“I… What?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but it came out as a question regardless, your reluctance blending messily with your confusion. “This isn’t funny. If you’re going to act like this every time I visit the Human World, I might have to stop coming back.”

Finally, Satan glanced up from his book. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said he was smiling. “Right. Because you still think you're allowed to leave.”

The rest of the room fell silent. Or, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was louder than it'd ever been. You didn’t know. You couldn't hear anything, not over the sudden ringing in your ears. “I’ll have to, eventually. It’s not up to me.”

Beelzebub shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’d be safer if you stayed in the Devildom. We can’t protect you in the Human World.”

Leviathan’s grip tightened around his console. In the background, you could hear the plastic shell start to crack. “We wouldn’t be able to see you. Not all the time. Not for more than a few weeks at a time.” He was quiet, for a moment. Then, he added, “It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t… It wouldn’t feel like it does when you’re here.”

Mammon looked away, letting his head lull to the side. “You belong here, with us. You’re supposed to be here. We’re just doin’ you a favor. No one wants to watch you figure out how fucked you’d be on your own.”

And, finally, Belphegor groaned, exhaustion heavy in the gravely sound. He untangled himself from you, but the freedom was temporary, fleeting, his arms snaking around your waist, instead, his face soon gracelessly buried in your chest. His eyes flickered open, but barely, just enough to let him stare up at you through his eyelashes, a thoughtless grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t divided, not like his brothers were. He didn’t try to pretend he was above holding you against your will. “You're not leaving again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just a fact, to him. It was something that wouldn’t happen, that couldn’t happen, if only because his older brothers were willing to work so hard to make sure it didn’t. “We’re not gonna share you, anymore. We’re not gonna have to.”

You didn’t want to hear anything else. You didn’t want to be here, anymore, not if this was what it meant, not if it was going to feel like standing in front of that closed casket all over again, the urge to run and sob and scream silencing every reasonable thought you’d ever had. You didn’t bother trying to talk to Asmodeus and Belphegor, you didn’t bother trying to coo and edge and skirt around their anger, their unspoken threats, not anymore, not when your body was already standing on its own, shoving at Belphegor’s body and swatting at Asmodeus’ hand as he reached out, aiming to cup your cheek and tell you so gently to sit down and shut up. Beelzebub leaned forward, Mammon flinched, and you could’ve sworn you caught a row of long, pointed fangs flash across Satan’s sneer, but you didn’t care. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to yell. You’d wanted to ever since you came back to this damned house and its overly affectionate occupants.

“You don’t get to share me.” You couldn’t be shared. You weren’t theirs to share, even if they already seemed geared against the idea. You weren’t theirs to trap, either. You never would be. “I don’t need your protection, and you don’t need to see me, and the only place I’m supposed to be is the Human World. I don’t know what got into your fucked-up heads while I was gone, but you can’t just--”

“Sit down, (Y/n).”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Right. You’d almost forgotten Lucifer hadn't gotten a chance say his piece, yet.

He didn’t give you time to cooperate. There was already a fist curled around the back of your collar, dragging you back into your seat, the action so much more aggressive than Belphegor’s oppressive dead-weight or Amsodeus’ sweet, sickly temptation. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Lucifer looming over you, standing tall, towering above his younger brothers as he took control of the room. You wondered if he’d been here the entire time, if he’d heard everything, rather than just your sudden outburst. You wondered if you should hope that he had.

“We missed you, while you were gone.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound mad, but none of them did, none of them sounded like they were plotting to keep you away from your home, your friends, the life you had outside of demons and angels and magic. None of them sounded dangerous, either, save for Lucifer. He’d always been easier to trust when he wasn’t pretending to be kind. “We’ve all been alive for centuries, and yet, you went and made a week feel like a small eternity. Do you know how difficult it is for a human to inflict that kind of suffering onto a demon?”

You didn’t answer. Across the room, Mammon laughed and Satan bristled. Belphegor melted back into your side, more than happy just to have his resting place scared into immobility.

“You’ll stay.” It was an order, this time. Not a suggestion, not a passing concern, but a command, something you would be expected to obey. He had the nerve to use that low, calm cadence, measured and pre-meditated. He didn’t want to let you convince yourself he was as prone to bluffing as his brothers were. “You’ll stay because we want you to. We’re willing to use force, but there’s no need for that. Is there, love?”

You nodded, your body tense and your eyes glassy, and Lucifer rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a row of knuckles delicately pressed to your cheek. A miserable reward for such an unwilling sacrifice, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. It certainly didn’t stop him from leaning in, his lips brushing against the top of your head, his voice falling just low enough to make something sharp and cold shot down your spine, as he went on.

“It’s not like you have anything to go back to, anymore.”

[raibebe]

Love Is On Air

Genre: fluff & smut Words: 8.722 Prompt: radio host Johnny x secret admirer female reader Warnings: soft dom Johnny, oral (f receiving), safe sex, dirty talk

A/N: Finally: My entry for the February event of my lovely network @neosmutcollective​. This is totally not the fic I planned on writing. In fact this was started way later after I realized I was never going to finish my original fic on time. Not that this one is on time... Special thanks to everyone who sent our lovely DJs some music recommendations @sly-merlin​, @moonctzeny​, @lenaluvs​, @lucas-wongs​, @burtonized​ and to @ncteaxhoe​ who helped me figure out this idea. I hope you enjoy this even though it’s wayyy too late.

You hurried home to your apartment after your last class of the day that was horrifically late because of whoever had fucked up your schedule this semester. Panting heavily, you busted into your room and threw your jacket and backpack somewhere onto your couch, diving straight for your laptop that was perched on your desk. Cursing the old thing, you waited for agonizing minutes until it had booted up and your browser was open. You quickly opened the familiar page of your university’s campus radio just in time to hear the familiar voice saying: “Hi I’m John-D, welcome to NCT Night Night.” After that both hosts chuckled lowly before Jaehyun spoke: “Tonight we’ll read some of the letters you wrote us over the week again and we will try our best to help you out with whatever problems you throw our way.” “Exactly. Right after we play this song that was suggested by evangelie_99 over on our Twitter, it’s Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County and she said that she loves our show. We’re glad you like it so much, darling. This one is for you,” Johnny softly said before the soft tunes of the song filled your little one-room apartment.

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, carelessly toeing your shoes off. Listening to NCT Night Night was your escape at night from the stress that classes brought you. The two DJs that were on air every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday were your favorites though. Not only did they have great chemistry but they both could be incredibly funny as well as soothe all your nerves with their calming voices – especially Johnny or John-D as he was called on their show. You might have developed a slightly embarrassing crush on the fratboy with a heart as sweet as his voice from what you knew about him from his radio shows and your shared classes. Since they had started their weekly segment where they would read out letters that students could send them, you had gathered the courage to send Johnny little messages about how you were crushing on him and it had quickly become a running gag on the show. Jaehyun would tease Johnny about it every week while Johnny kept insisting that his secret admirer should just talk to him. But how could you do that? Johnny was everything one could want in a boyfriend. Not only was he ridiculously tall and devastatingly handsome but he was also smart, always seemingly staying on top of his classes and he also went to the gym regularly if his thirst traps on his Instagram stories were anything to go by. When he wasn’t giving out advice in a gentle voice on their radio program, he was out partying with his frat brothers on the weekends more often than not complaining about headaches on their Sunday show. How could you just walk up to him and talk to him? Right. You couldn’t. So you had to resign to sending him anonymous love letters through his radio show.

“Welcome back, hi,” Johnny chuckled once the song had gently faded out and you couldn’t help but giggle along. “That was Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County,” Jaehyun tried to stay on script but you could almost hear the grin on his face because of Johnny’s antics, “If you want your song to play on today’s show, please suggest something over on our Twitter with the hashtag,” Jaehyun paused momentarily and let out a dramatic sigh before continuing, “hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin.” Jaehyun hadn’t even read the whole hashtag out loud when Johnny was already bursting out in laughter and how could you not laugh along with his melodic laughter. “I swear to god I am never letting you choose hashtags for our show ever again,” Jaehyun groaned while Johnny sounded like he was still dying in the background. “Don’t be mean to me Jaehyunie,” he whined and even though today’s episode was not viewable, you could vividly imagine how he was pouting. While the two friends were busy bickering and talking about what they had done since their last show, you pulled up your own Twitter to send a recommendation in.

“Aaaah, I see we’re already getting plenty of suggestions. Sly-merlin suggested us Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato – a great song – and added ‘I wish John-D would actually play me like a violin.” After a potent silence, Johnny broke out in laughter again. “And this is why you won’t choose any more hashtags,” Jaehyun groaned again. “Baby,” Johnny rasped into his mic and even though you weren’t wearing headphones, it sent tingles down your spine, “Just come to our frat party on Friday and I’ll see what I can do.” “Stop plugging our parties on the radio,” Jaehyun scolded the elder, the slap audible over the radio, “Also sly-merlin has to stand in line. You still have your number one admirer who has sent in a letter yet again.” “She still hasn’t come up to me,” Johnny shared, “I can only keep up my chastity for so long. I am saving myself for this girl.” You know he was joking but you were just a simple woman and even in your secluded home, you felt heat rising to your cheeks, your thumbs stopping on your keyboard where you had typed out your song recommendation. Both DJs shared a quiet laugh before Jaehyun asked: “And you really don’t know who she is?” “I really don’t man,” his friend sighed, “Like I have my suspicions because she has to be in my major if she sees me in class that often. That or she’s a stalker which I do not want to think about. But for real, hit me up. I’ll take you out for a coffee.” “Now everyone is going to come up to you and claim that they’re her.” “I’ll take that risk,” Johnny laughed, “Maybe I’ll finally meet the love of my life and settle down.” At that Jaehyun snorted loudly. “The woman that can make you settle down gets free coffee for like a month from me.” “Watch me have a wife and kids at 25 Jae, just to spite you,” his friend snorted, “But up until then, let’s play sly-merlin’s song recommendation: Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato.”

While the song was playing, you finished up your own tweet and hit post before you grabbed your bag that you had carelessly thrown away before to get out your notes. You actually had to start a project for one of the classes you and Johnny actually did share. The professor had announced that he would announce the pairings for a group project tomorrow and you didn’t want to seem like an actual idiot if your group would decide to already meet up and discuss after class. So while you listened to your favorite DJs discuss the questions and worries of whoever had sent them to their email address, you worked through the notes you had taken over the last couple of weeks, trying your best to organize them to remember the key points.

“Oh John-D, I have a very special letter here,” Jaehyun said, waving the paper in front of the microphone so it would pick up the wiggling noises. “What could that be?” Johnny asked with over-exaggerated interest. “It’s from your secret admirer, John-D. So I think you should read it out.” Just like every time, they read your letter, your heart began beating faster and faster in your chest until you were sure, it would break free from your ribcage. “Okay, here I go,” Johnny announced while Jaehyun was playing the same cheesy music he always played when they were reading your letters, “Happy Thursday, John-D. The weekend is almost in reach, keep up the energy for the last day of classes! – she’s so sweet, I’m holding up alright – One of my professors will announce the pairings he made for a group project soon and I am nervous. I don’t have many friends in the course and I’m praying that I will get good group mates I can work well with.” “Oooh, I get that struggle,” Jaehyun interrupted, “I once had to work with a bunch of stoners and ended up doing all the work for a presentation that made up 30 percent of my grade. Worst experience of my life, would not recommend. But we’re wishing you all the luck.” “But you know what’s more interesting about this story?” Johnny tuned in, “Coincidentally my professor for my literature class is assigning our group projects tomorrow as well. Say, my sweet admirer, are you perhaps in the same literature class as me?” In your otherwise silent room, the panicked squeak you let out was loud even to your ears. There was no way Johnny could figure out who you were, there were probably at least 20 more girls with a crush on him in that class alone, so you were safe. “Oooh, so maybe she’s a lit major so that’s why she’s writing love letters.” “Could be but lots of people from different majors are taking that class,” Johnny argued, “Anyways, back to her letter. But I won’t let that disturb me! I will be doing my best regardless! – That’s the spirit – I’ll work through my notes as I listen to your honey voice so I can be prepared. I’m glad you don’t do viewable radios on Thursday’s or else I wouldn’t be able to get anything done, you’re just too distracting John-D,” at that Jaehyun let out a fake gag while Johnny just giggled softly, “Thank you secret admirer, I do clean up quite nicely if I do say so myself. – On last Sunday’s episode you melted my heart when you hid in your hoodie for half the show. – God that was the worst hangover I had in a looong while, I was so miserable.”

“You should have seen him at home,” Jaehyun laughed, “I had to physically drag his whole 180-something-centimeters body first into the shower, then into the car and into the station. He is the biggest crybaby when he’s hungover.” “Don’t expose me like that, Jaehyunie,” Johnny whined loudly, “I was dared to drink a bunch of tequila and my mother didn’t raise neither a quitter nor a coward.” “No, but clearly an idiot,” the younger DJ laughed his deep laugh. “Let me read my love letter in peace,” the other grumbled, “I couldn’t follow for half the show because I was so focused on watching you. Not in a creepy way of course! – Of course not,” Johnny chuckled, “I hope you finished that essay you had to work on after the show in time and still had some time to relax. – I did, don’t worry.” That you already knew when Johnny had handed in his essay in another class you two shared just before you had handed in yours and he had thrown you a little smile that had kept you going through the whole day. “Take care of yourself and keep smiling your beautiful smile, I look forward to seeing you again on Sunday or in classes. And fighting to Jae-D as well of course! – I look forward to hearing from you again, secret admirer. I bet your group project will go just fine, don’t worry too much. If anyone is mean to you, just expose them here and we’ll fight them for you.” “Love that she acknowledged me in one sentence as well,” Jaehyun grumbled, cutting off the cheesy music abruptly. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a sweet admirer who sends you cute messages,” the other teased his friend. “Yeah, yeah, shut up and put that letter in the box under your bed.” “It’s in my sock drawer, thank you very much.”

Giggling, you listened to the two friends bicker, your chest warm with a feeling you were scared to put a name on. “Anyways, I think it’s time for another music recommendation you can still send in via our lovely hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin. This one is from lenaluvies and she says: Please play Hurts So Good by Astrid S thank you. No, thank you for sending something in darling. This one’s for you,” Johnny announced and you couldn’t help but laugh a little pained laugh. That song title hit a little too close to home for your liking. The rest of the radio show went by smoothly and Johnny and Jaehyun tried to help a handful of more students with their problems that couldn’t be more diverse. From a boy who had fallen in love with his best friend which had send him into an identity crisis over to a girl who was failing her classes because she claimed the professor hated her to a freshman who wanted to apply for a fraternity but was scared because of the rumors surrounding them which the DJs quickly debunked since they both were in the same fraternity. In the end they had to cut themselves short, asking their viewers to vote on a poll they would make if people wanted a whole Tuesday episode surrounding fraternities.

“So.” “So,” Johnny copied his friend. “We’re almost at the end of our time with you guys. We couldn’t get through all of your submissions but we hope our team picked a few good ones and at least some of you could get some advice.” “As always you’re free to send us your own stories to our e-mail JohnJaeNNN@NCTU.com to get some advice next Thursday from your favorite DJs: John-D.” “And Jae-D. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday on your campus radio on 127mHz. On NCT-“ “Night Night,” they said their ending together and just like every night with them, you said goodnight to your computer screen, closing the tab which draped your little apartment in silence. Sighing loudly, you looked over your notes that needed a little more work if you wanted to make a good first impression on your fellow students tomorrow. Because you couldn’t stand the silence, you opened your Spotify to play the NCT Night Night playlist Johnny and Jaehyun had made with the songs that had been recommended to them, still missing the new additions from tonight.

The next morning found you in your literature class, sitting two rows behind Johnny, staring at the back of his head while doodling on your paper rather than taking notes on whatever the professor was saying. If you were to let your eyes wander, you’d see that almost everyone in the big room was paying as much or even less attention as you were; the students in different states of excitement and anxiety over the group projects he had yet to announce. “I’m sorry professor,” Johnny’s voice suddenly cut through the room, “I’m sure you have already noticed that no one is paying attention to whatever you’re trying to teach us right now. Could you please just announce the groups for the project?” That moment you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop until your eccentric professor chuckled lowly. “I like you, Suh. I was waiting for someone to mention it,” he spoke, getting the dreaded list out of his bag, “Listen closely now, you’ll be assigned in groups of four and each group will get a specific novel to work on. Deadline will be by the end of the semester and your individual paper combined with the group presentation will make up 40% of your final grade.” That made a bunch of people, including you, gasp out loudly. A group project with this much credit to your final grade was always dreaded. “I don’t want to hear any complaints, that’s how it’s always been. Now listen carefully, I won’t repeat myself but the list will be hung on our blackboard as well.” With that being said, the professor began listing names and novels in the most monotone voice he could muster. To say you were basically vibrating off of your seat was an understatement when he got further and further down the list and neither yours nor Johnny’s name had been called yet. “And lastly, an all-time favorite: Romeo and Juliet.” You didn’t even register anything else after the professor had announced that the group featured both Johnny and you along with two other students you didn’t know. Your brain was reduced to static noise while everyone else was getting up around you to pick up the books that had already been stacked in a corner, probably by a poor TA. Only when a person bumped into you, you broke from your stupor to quickly pick up your stuff as well to hurry down to steps to where a crowd of students had already gathered.

Luckily Johnny towered over most of the other students and you could easily spot him and the rest of your group that were two other boys you didn’t recognize. “Hey, you’re the last one we were missing,” Johnny smiled and handed you over your copy of the book. “Y... Yeah, sorry for making you wait,” you stuttered, clutching the small book tightly in your hands. “No big deal,” Johnny played it off, “Do any of you have any more classes today?” When everyone declined, you all agreed that you should get a head start on your project as it would be hard to make a good project out of such an overused love story. While walking over to the student center to decide on a concept, conversation flowed easily between the four of you even though you were still really nervous to be around Johnny. God, you really hoped he didn’t think you were stupid or something just because you were nervous.

The little study session went by in a blur and only further confirmed that you were so whipped for Johnny it wasn’t even funny anymore. You found yourself attentively listening to all of his ideas and laughing at every of his stupid little jokes and only mildly spacing out while looking at Johnny when the others were discussing ideas which had led to one or two mildly embarrassing situations where you would lose track of what you were actually discussing, your mind blank of any input when they asked for your opinion.

Soon you found yourself parting ways with your groupmates, leaving you and Johnny alone because his frat house and your little apartment were located in the same general direction. “Anything fun you’re doing this evening?” Johnny asked, trying to make some light conversation to fill the silence. “No, I’ll just binge watch some shows maybe or listen to the campus radio,” you shrugged it off. While today’s show wasn’t your favorite, you quite liked the DJs soft and gentle voice. “You listen to the campus radio? I have a show on there,” Johnny smiled. “I like listening to you and Jaehyun,” you confessed, trying to fight the heat that was licking at your cheeks. “Oh.” “You seem surprised.” “Yeah, it kind of still seems weird that people enjoy listening to Jae and me rambling for hours on end. You know with him it just feels like I’m hanging out with my brother rather than work.” “Your voices are really soothing, you know,” you tried to explain what you were feeling when listing to them, “And your friendship is kind of adorable. Like we can feel how much you care about each other and you always genuinely try to help your listeners without making fun of them.” For a while Johnny didn’t say anything and you thought you had fucked it up, that he thought you were weird now. “Thank you,” he suddenly said. “Huh?” “It means a lot hearing that. We do lurk on Twitter to see what people think of our show but hearing it like this is something else entirely.” “It’s nothing,” you mused, playfully hitting his arm, “No need to get this soft.” “Hey,” he laughed, “I’ll have you know that I am 180 centimeters of walking softness despite what people might say about me.” Smiling softly you caught his eyes for the first time since you two had started walking and the way his honey eyes were smiling back at you momentarily took your breath away.

“I- My room is right around here, sooooo,” you stuttered. “It was nice working with you. Even though you were spacing out half the time,” Johnny teased, “Thinking about a special someone?” You. The word sat on the tip of your tongue, the low light of the afternoon sun making you bolder than you actually were and Johnny just made you feel incredibly comfortable. “No... No- I- I’m single.” “A crush then?” “Something like that,” you mumbled, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your jacket. “Talk to him. Or her. Or them,” Johnny advised. “I really can’t,” you sighed, “He doesn’t even know I exist.” “Well you don’t need to confess your undying love for him,” he laughed, not knowing he was the boy in question, “Just you know. Casually talk to him. Get to know him.” “I’ll try?” “Is that a question?” “Yeah?” “Have more confidence in yourself,” he gently nudged you, “You’re nice and very easy to talk to.” “Nice... Wow.” “Shut up,” he laughed, “I usually give better compliments but I have yet to get to know you better.” “Would you... Would you even want that?” “Sure,” Johnny shrugged and your heart skipped a couple of beats, “I have to get going or everybody will already be drunk when I arrive. So... I’ll see you in class? And you’ll hear me on Sunday?” “Yeah sure. Don’t drink too much or you will be miserable all show like last week,” you giggled. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned, “I’m never going to drink tequila on a Saturday ever again.” “Goodbye Johnny,” you smiled, really liking how his name sounded when you said it out loud. “Bye,” he waved before going his way.

Once you were sure he was out of hearing distance, you let out a little happy squeak and jumped up and down excitedly. You did it. You had actually done it. You had talked to your crush. And managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him. Which was a win in your books. A huge win. With a little spring in your steps, you stepped by one of your favorite pizza places to treat yourself before heading home where you spend your evening daydreaming about none other than Johnny while watching reruns of old dramas.

“Hi, I’m Jae-D.” “And I am John-D. Welcome to NCT-“ “Night Night.” “John-D.” “Yes, Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled. “It’s Thursday again which means it’s time to tend to our listener’s worries,” Jaehyun read off of the script, not getting distracted by his friend’s antics, “And today is a very special episode.” “Special?” Jaehyun barely repressed to roll his eyes at his friend’s over-exaggerated acting before continuing: “Yes, since tomorrow is a day off for all students, we have decided to make this episode extra lengthy and-“ he shortly stopped to flash the camera a peace sign, “Viewable despite it being Thursday.” “Do we look okay?” Johnny laughed, checking himself out in the video that was playing on one of their monitors. “Aaaaah, the comments say we look good tonight, thank you,” Jaehyun mused.

And they really did. Not that either of them had to do a whole lot to look good but today they were both wearing white button-downs with their sleeves rolled up to expose their forearms. Jaehyun had even gone so far as to put on some fake glasses. “And if you’re following us on our Twitter you also already know that this week it’s all about love on our campus radio and our show today is no exception,” Johnny read his part of the script. “Today John-D and Jae-D are Loveholics, trying our very best to help you with your problems surrounding love,” Jaehyun completed, “You can send in song recommendations through the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic just like taryn1026 did – I hope I said that right �� but they recommended Paris in the Rain by Lauv to set the mood for today.”

The soft tunes of the song made you relax a little into your sofa where you had chosen to watch today’s episode of NCT Night Night. You had to say that you were kind of nervous for today’s episode. Just like every week you had written your letter to Johnny, telling him about your week and cheering him on for your group project. At this point it should have been pretty obvious just who exactly you were and judging by how Johnny was acting towards you, his flirting leaving you flustered after your study sessions and your group mates mildly annoyed, he seemed to already have put together the pieces. But yesterday while writing your letter you had felt extra bold (and maybe also extra riled up and horny from Johnny’s shameless flirting) and had written him a message that should confirm all his suspicions and would hopefully lead him straight to you and into your bed. But until the end of the show or at least until they read your letter, which you really hoped they did today as well, you had to wait sitting in your apartment, for once not in comfortable clothes but in a nice shirt and pants.

“That was Paris in the Rain by Lauv, recommended to us by taryn1026 through our Twitter with the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Johnny’s raspy voice filled your apartment when he leaned close to the mic, “Jae-D are you ready to make some love happen?” “I already had my love juice,” Jaehyun answered, showing his pink Starbucks drink to the camera, “And my reading glasses are on.” As to prove his point, he hiked his glasses up his nose before scratching his eye through the holes in the frame, making both DJs chuckle. For the next hour Johnny and Jaehyun tried to solve several relationship dramas as well as a very tricky friends-with-benefits situation and telling a boy to break up with his cheating girlfriend which had been a rather heartbreaking discussion. “So after this,” Jaehyun sighed, “Let’s play another song recommendation. Burtonized has sent in a very fitting song, I hope you all don’t mind a little Korean: It’s God Damn by I.M – a song about heartbreak.”

While the foreign song was playing, the two DJs stretched their backs and sipped on their respective drinks: Jaehyun still on his pink sugar concoction and Johnny already on his second iced Americano. Jaehyun must have found something funny on his phone, nudging his friend to look at him but Johnny was busy typing away on his own, only acknowledging his friend after he had typed his message. Just after that, your own phone buzzed with a message, showing Johnny’s name on the screen.

From: Johnny Are you watching our show?

To: Johnny Sure, you look good today

From: Johnny Make sure to listen closely ;)

“That was God Damn by I.M suggested by burtonized over our Twitter hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Jaehyun’s smooth voice tore you from your spiraling thoughts about the winking face Johnny had sent. “Sadly our show is coming to an end even with our extended airtime.” “But John-D a very important letter is still missing before we close our show. Dare I say it could be the highlight of our show,” Jaehyun joked, already playing the cheesy music he was always playing when Johnny would read your letters. “You’re right Jae-D my lovely secret admirer has sent in another letter,” Johnny mused, arranging himself so he could read the printed out letter while being as close as possible to the mic for it to pick up the rasp in his voice, “Happy Thursday John-D, I hope your week has been more exciting than mine. I have just been going from class to class without much thought, the only high points are my group meetings for the group project we have to hand in soon – That seems very familiar, baby – But since today is all about love, I’ll tell you about a little problem I have: – get your love juice ready, Jae – There is this boy in my group. And boy isn’t really the right word to describe him, he’s a man really,” at that Johnny couldn’t hold back a low chuckle, “I’m sorry, I’ll be serious – And he is flirting with me. Has been for a couple of weeks now. And it has gotten to the point where our groupmates are kind of annoyed at us. He has also walked me home a couple of times but he never so much as touched me. At this point I am so frustrated with him. Is he just playing with me? Or is his mouth bigger than his actions actually are? He has been riling me up all day today and I was ready to let him have his way with me but he only wished me goodnight and left again, leaving me to deal with what he had done all by myself – oh wow, I,” Johnny stuttered, sharing a gaze with his friend who was only barely repressing his laughter, “Wow, okay, I hope we’re in the good for reading this out and it’s late enough,” clearing his voice and raking a hand through his hair, Johnny continued, “John-D I hope this man hears what he has done to me and will deal with the consequences of his actions. Would you play Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL for me? Just in case this letter hasn’t gotten my point across? – Y... Yeah sure, darling. We’ll play that once our show is over.”

“So John-D,” Jaehyun grinned while loudly slurping on his ‘love juice’, “What would you advice your secret admirer to do about this problem?” “Well if I were her,” Johnny started, his gaze going straight to the camera where he knew you were watching and it felt like he was looking straight into your soul, “I’d wait for him. I’m pretty sure he can prove that his actions speak even louder than his words.” For a while it was quiet between the two DJs, safe for Jaehyun’s obnoxiously loud slurping noises but even if they would have been saying anything, you weren’t sure if you could have comprehended any words with how furiously your heart was beating. “Anyways,” Jaehyun eventually broke the silence once he was sure there was nothing left in his ‘love juice’, “I’m afraid that was it for tonight. This has been your extra lengthy episode of Jae-D and John-D and we will leave you with this wonderful song recommendation: Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL. If you’ve liked today’s show, we’re here every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday night on your campus radio on 127mHz to listen to all of your worries on NCT-“ “Night Night,” Johnny joined in and they both waved into the camera as your song of choice started playing. The video stream didn’t cut off immediately, showing the boys gathering their things and if your eyes weren’t betraying you, you swore you saw Johnny tense up when the song turned a little more explicit. The two DJs waved to the camera one last time before the stream cut off, leaving the screen of your laptop dark.

That was when it dawned on you what you had done. Shit. With how Johnny had sounded, you probably had about fifteen to twenty minutes until he would be at your doorstep. Oh god. Shit. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you tried to ground yourself before hurriedly closing your laptop and cleaning everything that seemed messy in your little one-room apartment. That was until you heard a knock on your door.

With shaky hands, you slowly opened the door and while you knew who would be standing on the other side, you weren’t ready for how he was going to look like: Johnny was leaning against the doorway casually with his arms crossed over his chest so the tight button-down he was wearing would strain over the planes of his chest muscles but what really reeled you in was how dark his eyes looked when he raked them over your body. “Good evening miss,” he drawled. “Hi,” you breathed. “Tell me what you want so I’m not misinterpreting any of this,” Johnny all but growled, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. “I want you to have me.” If you thought his eyes were dark before, they turned into bottomless black orbs once the words had left your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby.” “Please,” you whimpered and that seemed to break Johnny’s resolve as he pulled you close to him and all but crashed his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t delicate in any way, shape or form with how Johnny was licking into your mouth the second a moan left your lips. His tongue was intertwining with yours messily and in no time both of you were panting into each other’s mouths. “Inside. Now,” you rasped. “All with due time,” Johnny chuckled but let you pull him into your apartment, slamming the door shut to crowd you against it, one of his strong thighs slipping between your legs like it belonged there, “If you’re a good girl and listen well, I’ll give you anything you want.” “Fuck,” you cursed before slamming your lips together again, a new neediness bleeding into the kiss as you tugged on the longer strands of hair at the back of Johnny’s neck which made him growl lowly. “Anything off-limits?” Johnny breathed into your skin as he kissed down your neck to suck a mark there while his hands were busy pulling your shirt from your pants so he could rake them over your naked skin. “Just,” you had to cut yourself off with a moan, “Don’t be mean to me.” “Never,” he promised, “You’ll be my pillow princess.” His sweet words were in stark contrast to how hard his hands were gripping your hips and how his teeth were grazing over your neck that must be littered with marks already. “Take me to bed,” you heaved breathlessly, positive your legs would give out if it wasn’t for Johnny holding you up.

Listening to your demand, he slowly started walking you backwards towards your bed until the two of you were toppling down on top of the covers, his lips never leaving your skin. Whoever had spread the rumors about Johnny being a great lover had been absolutely right, he knew just how to touch you to have you gasping for air and judging by the grin on his lips he hadn’t even started yet. “Please,” you whimpered, arching into his touch, not exactly sure what exactly you were asking for but Johnny seemed to know all the better when he freed you from your top and pants to leave you in your matching lace set while he was still fully clothed in his by now wrinkled button-up and pants. “All for me?” He chuckled and pressed a kiss right between the valley of your breasts, his big hands cupping the soft flesh to squeeze it gently. “Have me,” you gasped out and you could feel the growl he let out vibrating where you were pressed together. “I’m going to ruin you,” Johnny promised, pulling down the cups of your bra to wrap his plush lips around one of your nipples to tease the soft nub until it hardened under his ministrations, sending waves of pleasure down your spine and straight to your core where you could feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your panties. “Johnny,” you mewled and arched into his every touch, his calloused fingertips setting your skin alight when he let them travel down your body to tease over your lower stomach. As if by reflex, you let your thighs fall open for him to finally touch you where you needed him the most. “Such a good girl,” he smiled, blowing cold air over your spit-slicked nipple to watch you squirm beneath him. Your remark got stuck in your throat when he finally cupped you through your panties, feeling how damp the fabric had already become. “Naughty,” he chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face as he circled your clit through the fabric, watching your eyes fluttering shut when his gaze became too intense.

“Johnny,” you sighed, forgetting all other words except for his name. “Relax, princess,” he rasped and kissed his way down your body, leaving love bites on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs that shook with anticipation. If you’d say you hadn’t dreamed about his lips on you like this, you would lie and you weren’t going to miss the sight of this for nothing. Fighting back the fog that had started to cloud your mind, you forced your eyes open to look down to where he had settled between your open thighs to find him staring right back at you. “Good girl,” he praised you again before pressing a kiss over your clothed sex that made your head fall back already, the anticipation of what was to come making you push up your hips which made Johnny chuckle lowly. He didn’t leave you any time to feel embarrassed by how needy you were when he hooked your panties to the side unceremoniously and licked a broad stripe up your center, tasting your arousal. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, your hands flying down to tangle them in the long strands of his hair. Johnny worked his tongue in slow and clever strokes, leaving your mind reeling with pleasure and taking his time to take you apart piece by piece, not even paying attention to your leaking center or your aching clit. But when he did wrap his lips around your clit to gently suck on the nub, your mind almost went numb with how intense his touch was, your thighs clamping shut around him. To make it even worse, he started humming around you while prying your thighs back open, holding you down with his large hands. You felt your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast now that he was altering between teasing your clit with his tongue, lips and even his teeth and fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, setting your nerve endings on fire. “Johnny I’m close,” you warned him but instead of slowing down, he stretched his jaw wide to press his tongue further into you, his nose bumping into your clit in the process and with the combined sensation and his doubled effort, it took no time for your first orgasm of the night to wash over you, a scream of his name leaving your lips as you shook through it, your mind going equally as numb as your legs.

When you came back to it, Johnny had straightened up between your legs and he was grinning down at you while he was unbuttoning his shirt, his face still shiny with your arousal. “That was the first one,” he spoke darkly. “Come here,” you whined, making grabby hands for him until he took pity on you and covered your body with his before connecting your lips in a bruising kiss. You could still taste yourself on his lips but that somehow just made it even hotter.

“Want you inside me,” you panted against his lips when Johnny broke the kiss in favor of raking his teeth over your racing pulse. “Yeah?” He rasped and ground his hips down into yours, making you feel him strain against the fabric of his pants. “Need it,” you moaned at the sweet friction. “Think you can take me?” He laughed as he leaned back on his hunches to pop open the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slow. With wide eyes you watched him push his pants down his narrow hips, leaving him in just his navy boxers that showed the sizable imprint of his hard cock, the fabric against the head dark from where he had leaked precum. Chuckling, he stroked over the outline and just the sight alone made your mouth water. “Show me,” you breathed, spreading your thighs so he could see your needy core, clenching around nothing. “Hmm,” he hummed, dragging one of his fingers that wasn’t preoccupied with teasing himself through the mess of arousal and his saliva between your legs, only barely dipping it into you to feel the muscles trying to suck him inside. “Don’t tease me,” you whined high in your throat. “But I like seeing you squirm,” Johnny grinned but took mercy on you and sunk his finger into you up to the knuckle, gently pumping it inside you. Still sensitive from how intense your last orgasm had been, you were torn between pulling away and wanting more but Johnny made the decision for you when he pulled his finger out, wiping your arousal onto your thigh.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded and finally freed his cock from his briefs. “Fuck.” The curse left your lips without even noticing at the sight of his flushed cock, too heavy to properly stand up against his toned abs. The tip was tinted red and shiny with precum that Johnny generously spread down that whole length, his eyes not leaving yours as you watched him lazily jerk himself. “Like what you see?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Want it inside me.” “Yeah? Show me.”

Throwing all caution out of the window, you quickly sucked two of your fingers between your lips before guiding them to your weeping core to slip them inside you, letting out an over-exaggerated moan as you crooked them. “Oh you’re so naughty, baby,” Johnny groaned, squeezing the base of his cock tightly as he watched you fingering yourself and if you had even one coherent thought left in your head, you’d have the decency to be embarrassed because of how intensely he was staring. “It’s not enough,” you pouted, pulling your fingers free and spreading them to look at the slick covering them, “I’m so wet for you.” “Such a dirty mouth,” he groaned, quickly grabbing his pants to fish a condom from his wallet to roll over his hard length. “Please, Johnny,” you hiccupped, winding your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. “Sssh, princess,” he soothed you, running his hands over your torso before bending down to press tender kisses to your stomach, “I’ll take care of you.” “Please kiss me.”

Dropping his elbows next to your head to support his weight, he covered your body with his and caught your lips in a kiss much too tender for your current situation, taking his time to explore your mouth until you were perfectly pliant beneath him. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered into the small space between you while he snaked a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your core. When the head slipped in without much resistance, both of you let out twin moans of pleasure. Painstakingly slowly Johnny pushed inside you, centimeter by centimeter until his hips were flush to yours. “Breathe, princess,” he reminded you because you indeed had held your breath and had buried your nails in his biceps. “Shit, you’re big,” you cursed. “So I’ve been told,” Johnny chuckled and peppered your face and neck with little kisses while he slowly ground his hips so you could get used to him inside you.

“Move,” you demanded after a while.   “What’s the magic word baby?” He grinned. “Please, Johnny,” you whimpered, clenching down on him. “Once more.” “Don’t make me beg.” “But you sound so pretty when you do,” he chuckled, only barely moving his hips. “Johnny please,” you whined, trying your best to move on his cock on your own but the angle was just not working out. “Oh, you want to do the work?” “I want you to move,” you groaned, pawing at his chest.

“But I think you’d look so pretty riding my cock,” Johnny rasped and in one fluid movement, he had sat up and pulled you onto his lap. Shit, it felt like he was even deeper now. “Come on, princess.” Whining, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled your legs beneath you so you could lift your hips up to make his cock smoothly slide out, the friction just right before you slowly dropped back down again, earning you an appreciative groan from Johnny. “That’s right, baby,” he praised you as you slowly found a comfortable pace, swiveling your hips until the angle was just right. Tightening the grip you had on his shoulders to use it as leverage, you began riding him in earnest, impaling yourself on his cock over and over again until your head was spinning and your thighs started to burn. “Come on, doll,” Johnny grinned, catching one of your nipples between his lips. Whining, you rolled your hips faster until your thighs began shaking. “Need help?” He just grinned, his big hands holding onto your hips to help you move up and down his cock at a steadier pace. “Please Johnny,” you hiccupped, hiding your face in his neck to ground yourself, “Please fuck me.” “Am I not doing just that?” He chuckled, filthily grinding his cock inside you. “Do it right,” you panted into his skin, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” He didn’t have to tell you twice, it was almost comical how quickly you obeyed his command and arched your back for him. “Hmm, that’s it,” he praised you, tracing the curve of your spine with his hands until he reached the space between your shoulder blades where he gently pushed down to make you arch even further. “So good and pliant for me, just waiting to be filled.” “Please,” you just whined again, past the point of caring about how pathetic you sounded, begging for his cock. “Say it baby,” he demanded, slapping his cock against your wet folds. “Please fuck me Johnny. Please. I want your cock inside me so badly. Want you to fuck me until I can’t even remember my own name anymore. Please I need it. I-“ your frantic rambling got cut off by the surprised moan leaving your lips as he thrust into you without any warning. “Don’t hold back baby,” Johnny rasped before gripping your hips tightly to finally fuck you in earnest, the sound of skin slapping together loud in the otherwise silent room. “God, your ass looks amazing,” he moaned, burying himself in your tight heat over and over again, mesmerized by how his cock was glistening in the low light and how easily your body opened up for him, “You’re basically made to take my cock.” You could only mewl at his dirty words and fist the sheets tightly in your hands as you tried to meet his thrusts as best as you could while you felt like you got your soul fucked right out of you.

“Feels so good,” you slurred when you felt the familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap, clenching around Johnny’s cock. “God baby, if you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum,” Johnny cursed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up against his chest, the pace of his hips only getting faster. “Please Johnny. Want it inside,” you whined, letting him use your body how he wanted to relish in the low moans he let out. “You want me to fill you up baby?” “Want it so bad, Johnny,” you mewled. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock and I’ll give you anything you want.” And oh god. You had never thought that the strained sound of a couple of words could be enough to actually trip you over the edge but the rasp in Johnny’s voice had you falling apart in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you so hard it had your thighs shaking. “Such a good girl,” Johnny praised you before he let out a low guttural moan and fucked into you once – then twice – before his hips came to a halt, emptying his cum inside the condom.

For a while you two just panted loudly before Johnny gently laid you back down onto the mattress, chuckling lowly when you whined at the loss of his cock. “Shit,” you giggled while he quickly got rid of the condom, throwing it in the general direction of your trashcan. So tender you could have missed it, Johnny pressed a row of kisses down your spine until he reached the swell of your ass. “Cuddle me,” you pouted, making grabby hands at him. “We’re sweaty, princess,” he laughed but gave in when you kept pouting. “I don’t care,” you whined, fitting your head beneath his, wrapping your arms and legs around his body to cling to him like a koala. “You’re cute,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For how long did you know?” “Know what?” Johnny asked, clearly confused. “That I was your secret admirer.” “I didn’t.” “It was so obvious,” you groaned. “Okay maybe I got a hunch after we started that group project. But you never said anything.” “What was I supposed to say? Oh Johnny, by the way, I’m the one who has been writing you cringey love letters for like half a year already. Please go out with me?” That made Johnny laugh, the sound melodic in the quiet of your room. “I would have said yes, you know?” He spoke lowly, “I’ll miss your letters.” “What makes you think I will stop writing them?” “Because you can tell me all that stuff in person now when we go on dates.” “We’ll go on dates?” “That’s what people do when they like each other, princess,” Johnny chuckled, “And I really like you. Both as my secret admirer and my classmate.” “Oh my god stop,” you whined, hiding your hot face in his chest, feeling shy all of a sudden while Johnny was just laughing.

“I like you too,” you eventually mumbled once it had gotten quiet again. “I figured,” he teased you. “I changed my mind,” you immediately shot back, rising from where you were cuddled into his chest but every other protest died on your tongue when you saw his dreamy expression, his honey eyes finding yours and completely ignoring the fact that you were still very much naked. “Date me,” he said. “Okay,” you answered, easily meeting his lips in a sweet kiss that wouldn’t be the last one you two shared tonight.

“Hello and welcome back, that was Middle Of The Night by Monsta X, suggested to us by raibebe through our Twitter with the hashtag JonJaeLoveTalk. We’re your DJ’s John-D.” “And Jae-D on NCT Night Night. Hello again to all of our listeners. John-D.” “Yes Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Something is off today. I looked through our mail and there was no letter from your secret admirer.” “Oh really,” he feigned surprise. “Either they didn’t send anything in or our director got sick of the pining.” “I can calm you right back down Jae-D,” Johnny smiled, “Because she simply doesn’t need to send any more letters. I finally found her.” “No way. For real? And you didn’t tell me? I have to find out through our radio show? Friendship is dead,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Jae-D you know you’ll always be the number one in my heart, you know that.” At that Jaehyun let out fake gagging noises that made both friends chuckle.

“No but for real. I finally found her and asked her out. It’s going great so yeah,” Johnny shrugged, “In case you’re listening baby: I’m dropping by later and bring sushi.” “This is so domestic already,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically, “Where is my secret admirer?” “Maybe you could find love as well if you stopped acting like the textbook example of a frat boy.” “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Smiling, you leaned back on your sofa and listened to your boyfriend bickering with his best friend. Boyfriend. That sounded good even though it still felt unreal. Love Letters weren’t dead after all it seemed.

[thephoebeyates]

Phoebe hated feeling like she was taking advantage of people, but her crappy luck when it came to a lot of things meant that she felt like she was constantly asking for help or favors. A real damsel in distress, which she was sure annoyed people, even if they never voiced it. Warren didn’t seem to mind, though she couldn’t help the knot in her stomach that she might have pulled him from something important, and when he dismissed her offer to get him something from inside the gas station — some form of payment perhaps — she shifted awkwardly from where she was perched on the curb, unable to think of anything else she could do to be helpful in this situation.

Perhaps she should have thought about asking someone to teach her about cars to prevent future issues like this, but right now was honestly just more focused on getting home after what seemed like the longest day. “Oh.” She deflated slightly when Warren informed her that Earl was out for the count for tonight, heart warming at his suggestion to fix it up himself. “Thank you, Warren. Are you sure? I don’t mind taking it to a mechanic…” Though she literally knew nothing about cars and had no idea if anyone would have time to go with her to translate shop talk to her. However, he luckily managed to distract her from declining his help with a follow-up question about her work, to which she happily obliged. “Task? Oh, right!” Phoebe stood, stretching out her back, a not so gentle reminder from her body that she was no longer a teenager that could just slump on the ground without fucking up her posture, “Yeah, the printer went on the blink and the guy isn’t coming until Monday so I got tasked to heading to this special print shop on the other side of town, which isn’t so bad because like, it’s near where Saul lives where I like, agreed to check in on his cats.” Much more preferred company than the majority of the people she worked with. 

A few days. Manageable, sure. Slightly inconvenient if she needed to run errands like today, but nothing she couldn’t handle: it hadn’t been the first time she had lost Earl for a night or two due issues with the engine or whatever. “You’d let me borrow your Jeep?” She questioned indecorously, secretly glad her reputation of not being the most stellar driver hadn’t quite reached Warren’s ears despite his time in town. “That’s like, super kind of you but, I, uh, don’t have the best track record with…big cars.” Hell, parking in Earl was a disaster half the time (and it wasn’t always her fault, Phoebe was convinced they were making parking spaces smaller these days!) and the idea of her in Warren’s Jeep brought a grin to her face at the sheer ridiculousness of the image it conjured. “I’ll work something out with Foster about using his car or something.” Fat chance, if the look on his face everytime Phoebe suggested she drive them somewhere was any indication, but Warren didn’t need to know that. “Uh, yeah, I just need my laptop out of my trunk then I’m good to go.” She said, already walking over to the rear of the car to collect the rest of her belongings. 

Once upon a time Warren Pearce was a man that just about any and everyone would call in a time of need. It'd been his life's purpose, then, to serve others and to be a good neighbor. Then the most valuable things had been taken from him and it was those moments in time had seemed to burn the soul right out of the good Christian southern man. In a way Warren was still in service, he tracked down missing people and lost loved ones, and some would call that an honorable thing. The whole of bringing peace to those in pain, because even if the news was bad, an answer was an answer. People longed for closure. Couldn't seem to move along without it. And perhaps that had been what'd happened to him, he'd remained stuck in his grief.

With the hood of Phoebe's car propped open Warren poked around under there while she filled his silence with every little thing that popped in her head. Never in a million years would he ever interject or tell her to stop, there had been some semblance of a father-daughter dynamic at play that his heart had latched onto. His own baby girl would've been in her early twenties by now; twenty / twenty-one, and there was something about Phoebe that compelled Warren to feel a piece of Susie's spirit within her. So easily could he imagine and fantasize conversations like the one's they'd have where his daughter would regale him of her day, her troubles, and her thoughts just in the same way.

"Naw, I don't need anything," Warren had answered, head popped out for a moment from her car as he'd taken a step back. That Texas drawl was faint but still tinged every syllable he'd ever uttered. It'd been easy to bypass the comments of interruption. Without a doubt he'd find a way to make himself available if she ever needed him. "There's no getting this runnin' tonight but we can get it towed to mine and I'll fix it up for you." He'd catalogued a few parts that needed replacing and he'd rather do the work himself than Phoebe take the Focus to a shop that would likely take advantage of her and do shitty work at that. Warren was reliable and wanted to see her taken care of. "So you were saying you'd been doing a task for an editor," Warren prompted, curious about the progress in her writing endeavors.

Plus, he never minded if Phoebe kept on talking. Which, he was all ears as he closed the hood of her car and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He knew a guy that could come collect her car and deliver it to his address in Forest Lake. "Depending on how fast I can get parts it'll likely only take me a few days to get Earl patched up," he'd told her after he'd sent the text to his contact. "Need to borrow a car in the meantime? You could take my Jeep. I've mostly been driving the truck lately." As if in need of a visual Warren pointed off to the shiny GMC. "Need anything out of here?" He pointed to her car.

[seijorhi]

I was wondering how good each Bonten member is with sharing, and is there’s any jealousy between them?

ty <33

It’s partially hinted at in the fic but to go a little more in depth...

kokonoi is probably the most traditionally 'yandere' if you wanna look at it that way. if he had it his way, he'd have you all to himself, and while he respects mikey and knows that he doesn't have a choice in sharing you, part of him still holds out hope that one day mikey'll grow bored and give you to him.

he accepts that he has to share for the time being but that doesn't mean he likes it. he's infuriated when he sees the cuts sanzu left on you and gets pissed off when he realises the haitani's are fucking you in the bathroom. koko wants you entirely to himself, and while he won't start fights over it, won't do much more than grumble to himself and then take it out on you later, any reminder that you're not solely his rubs him the wrong way. and to a certain extent because of that, the time he does spend with you, he wants it alone and uninterrupted. he's not going to fuck you with the others, won't fight for your attention on the rare times you get to come out with them. he wants you in his bedroom, waking up together tangled from a passionate night of love. he wants soft, lazy kisses, a warm greeting when he gets home. most of all, he wants your complete and utter submission and devotion. and he can pretend easily enough when it’s just the two of you, but anything that breaks that fantasy…

sanzu and the haitani's on the other hand are a lot less bothered. from the get go you've been a pretty little hole to fuck. that's not to say that they don't develop a certain sense of warped possessiveness as time goes on. of all of bonten, they're the ones who tend to share the most – the haitani's with each other almost always, but sanzu likes to join every now and then, just to spice things up. the possessiveness therefore doesn't come from being the only one to fuck you or in hogging your attention, it comes from marking you up, being the one to wring the most orgasms out of you, who you'll cry out for first. if there wasn't an unspoken rule about it, sanzu would've carved his initials into your soft pretty skin, and inevitably ran and rindou would've followed. they'd keep you in collars most of the time – and always when they go out. because sharing between each other, even sharing with the others is one thing, but anyone outside of the executive circle is a different story. you're bonten's girl, plain and simple. to the point that rindou actually suggested getting the hanafuda tattoo between your tits, partially to drill it into you, but mostly for everyone else's sake.

kakucho falls somewhere in the middle. he's not opposed to sharing you, and understands that in the grand scheme of things you're mikey's at the end of the day, he's still your keeper. he still wants you – even when he knows he probably shouldn't. out of all of them, he's probably the most grounded about what they're doing with you, but knowing that it's wrong won't stop him from indulging in those base desires, or from joining in when he sees the one of the others playing with you out in the open. though he'd be the one to step in if he thought someone was taking it too far – almost like your guard dog in a sense. it's a role he's used to playing, that dedication to someone he loves. on those rare nights out, when mikey and sanzu need to focus, he'll be the one to keep an eye on you; and what better way to do that then have you perched on his thigh or tucked under his arm? because truth be told as much as he loves the feeling on being buried inside of you, he might just enjoy that even more.

and finally mikey. in the beginning, he couldn't give a shit who fucked you, so long as they didn't break you. the others could fight over you, fuck you, mark you, whatever made them happy, and whenever he wanted you he'd step in and take you (often right there in front of whoever had you first) – the benefits of being the boss and all that. in the early days he wasn't particularly fussed about whether he fucked you in his bedroom alone or had you sucking his cock in the middle of a meeting with his underlings. at some point, however, he stopped seeing you as just a warm, wet hole and that's really where it all goes downhill. mikey has lost so much at this point. his friends, his brother, his sister, all the parts of him that kept him sane and grounded, that the moment he starts to become attached to you, his grip on you begins to tighten until it starts to suffocate.

mikey has lost everything he loves. he's in the darkest place of his life, surrounded by people who thrive on making him the worst version of himself. you, arguably, are the only good thing he has left, is it any wonder he begins to cling to you? intentionally or not, his paranoia starts to creep in. the only way to keep you safe is to shut you away somewhere only they have access to. he doesn't have to worry if he knows where you are. and at first it's fine to know that you're in the tower, or you're out with them. until someone tries to assault you on the docks. it's fine to know that maybe you're not in his bed but koko's, or sanzu's, or takeomi's. until you come out of the bathroom dripping someone else's cum. you're theirs, and that's all that matters. you're safe.

it's fine.

until it's not.

[reneejuliet]

As I Leave You

Author: reneejuliet

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1,538

Genre: Angst (I'd say I'm sorry but would you believe me?), Friends to Lovers?, Idol AU

Author’s Note: Here we gooooooooooo. This touches on Hoseok and Reader both. I can also say with about 87% certainty that this is the last part that's gonna hurt before it starts getting better. I will make no promises though! Also, please forgive my egregious use of italics in this installment, and my penchant for the top floor office stereotype. I make no excuses.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy!

You can find all previous parts here, under The Incident™ Installments. Thanks @jinfizz for the unofficial suggestion, I've finally decided on the name!

You look nice today.

The color of your blouse is new, but flattering against your skin tone. You've let your hair down, too, something you never really got to do in the "field". Not because you couldn't; it was just more practical to keep it swept back. Now, it softens your face, and you look pretty.

It makes Hoseok miserable.

He's happy you're doing okay. Somewhere deep, deep down – he really is. You deserve to be okay; more than, if he's being honest, but it's a start. The work in your new department is steady, keeping you plenty busy, and your co-workers have seemingly accepted you as one of their own. Any rumors tailing you around the office have tapered off and you have more than proven yourself worth your job.

Not that he knows any of this. He shouldn’t know any of this. You definitely haven’t told him. He can’t help it, though. It’s been months and he’s hardly seen you at all. When he does, all he can muster is small waves and insincere smiles, to which you only ever nod curtly. Then you duck away, and he is left to stare forlornly after you. Can he really be blamed for using what resources were available to him to ensure that you were doing alright?

Resources, he realizes, he should probably be using in other ways. It’s what you would have wanted. But he can’t find it in him to visit Minjee again. Not after last time.

He’d tried – he really had. About two weeks after your transfer, he’d managed to reach out to her. Schedule a visit. If nothing else, he needed the release. His shoulders were buried under the weight of guilt he carried for your displacement. No matter how he looked at it, this was entirely his fault. Even if he went back as far as to your proposition to help, he should have said no. It would have been the professional thing to do. He’d signed on for this life, after all. You hadn’t.

You hadn’t signed on for any of this.

The hook-up was a disaster. He tried to get out of his own head, to just enjoy the shape of Minjee and the feel of her in his hands, but he just couldn’t. Because every time he shut his eyes, you were there. If he kept his eyes open, he’d hear you in the words Minjee spoke. Even something as simple and basic as a gasp of breath conjured you in his mind, reminders of the indignant gasps of surprise he would cause with a joke or something stupid he said while with you. And suddenly it didn’t matter how hard he was, how close he might have been.

It wasn’t you.

She’d been understanding, at first. Wrote it off as him having a rough week. She’d kiss his cheek and promise next week, they’d figure it out then. But Hoseok never called, never texted. He never reached out anymore. He was too much of a coward to admit to her that it wasn’t just a rough patch. It was just… him.

Even now, as he stares at you in the lobby from his perch on the stairs, he can’t help the way he aches. To see you, to talk to you, to hold you in his arms. His tongue presses to the back of his teeth with the flavor of your name, wanting to call it out for the entire building to hear. He doesn’t care anymore. Nothing is right without you and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep pretending. No one is buying it anyway. Everyone knows.

He won’t, though. Just as he hasn’t every day prior, he won’t call out to you. If he’s learned anything from your time together, it’s selflessness. You gave up so much for him without him ever even knowing. The least he could do is return the favor. Treat you to the same courtesy you once showered him with.

Besides, you are happy. It’s obvious in the lilt of your smile, the melody of your laugh. Your eyes have a shine that has been missing for a long time now. There’s no more secrets, no more burden hovering over you like a gray cloud. You are light, you are free.

You are beautiful. In a way Hoseok can never bring out in you.

It’s obvious, now. Bang PD may have gotten it wrong all those months ago when he unjustly punished you and thought it a kindness, or maybe he just knew. Maybe he saw what Hoseok had been blind to from the very beginning. Because there wasn’t a shred of doubt about it anymore.

Hoseok is in love with you. He has been for a while now.

And he will do right by you, even if it kills him.

“…it would be a return to handler duties, at the very least. We thought it only right to present you with the opportunity.”

You sit before Manager Sejin and Bang PD once more, this time in the latter’s personal office. He’d sent for you by way of the receptionist, who’d caught you just as you were heading out for the day. It had been a rush of memory from all those months ago. Still, you’d thanked her and gathered what courage you could summon as you made your way to the topmost floor. This time, as they greeted you, they hadn’t seemed quite as solemn. In fact, you almost believed you saw a trace of amusement in Sejin’s expression as he ushered you into a chair.

You suppose it made sense now.

“I’m… I’m not sure I understand.”

Bang PD smiles gently at you. It’s a lot, he knows. Especially considering an end date to your probation had never been discussed yet. But he’d seen you the past months, watched closely as you worked diligently and kept your nose clean. You were a good kid. If he could offer you something of this magnitude, it seemed only fair.

“If you accept, you’d be contracted as a handler, directly overseeing the group’s day-to-day schedule. You have more than proven yourself capable. Sejin-ssi has even spoken quite extensively to your credit and ability.”

Your ears are ringing from how hard your heart is pounding, the blood rushing in tidal waves through your veins until you are buzzing. From excitement or numbness, you haven’t quite decided. Still, the proposition has left you reeling, and you are desperately trying to catch up.

“And… and, uh, if I decline?”

His mouth twitches thin for just a moment, as if the idea displeases him as much as it does you. “Should you turn down this opportunity, you would remain here, with BigHit. In your current position.”

You nod, accepting one piece of information at a time. “And what are the chances of returning to such duties here?”

This time, his mouth does pull thin. The displeasure is clear in his expression, but it is not at you. It is at whatever he is about to say. You almost regret asking.

“After careful consideration, we do not feel it appropriate to return you to your duties as handler. If we could guarantee you would only be assigned to other talent, it would be different. As it is, with the turbulent way in which things often move in this industry, it is not something we could ensure. And, it has not been lost on us how... distraught J-Hope has been during this trial. We fear the level of professionalism required of such a position has been compromised, and though you have proven nothing but exemplary in meeting our conditions… well, it doesn’t seem that you are the problem any longer, unfortunately.”

Unfortunately. How uncomfortably intimate you’d become with that word as of late.

“I understand.”

And, for once, you do. You’ve not been oblivious to the shift in Hoseok’s behavior since your absence. At first, your heart had soared at the implication that he missed you. That he cared for you as much as you cared for him. With each passing glance, however, it had become glaringly obvious that it would be a problem. That it was a problem. Which was why you had gone to such lengths to distance yourself. Maybe, if you went that extra mile…

Well. It didn’t matter in the long run. Not now that you found yourself sat before your employer, being handed a golden opportunity you had begun to think was only a dream anymore. There was just one catch.

It was at another company. If you ever wanted to be a talent handler again, you would have to transfer.

“Of course, you may take the time to think on it. We don’t expect you to decide right this moment. It is a lot to consider –“

“With all due respect,” you interrupted, startled by your own boldness. You would have never cut Bang PD off before. Now… “I don’t need time. I know my answer.”

Bang PD and Sejin look at you curiously, but not surprised. Not really. “Very well. What is your decision?”

You close you eyes for a moment, take a deep breath. Compose yourself.

Then you answer.

→ Taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist, or if you’d like tagged for a specific fic series or member!

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©reneejuliet 2022. No part of this material may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, reposted, or translated without consent.

[usmsgutterson]

Yellow- Pin Hawthorne

OKAY, YES-- I’ve wanted to write for Pin Hawthorne since having finished the show, and I’ve decided to do it, because I simply can’t resist and Pin is my favorite moody horseboi, plus, this blurb (imagine? I don’t know how long it’s gonna go yet!) is entirely inspired by the songs Yellow and Sparks by Coldplay, because the show is modern and the songs were released W A Y before the years that show is set in, so yay! 

Pins aged up in this, as well. In the show he’s around 16-17? In this, he and the reader are both 20!

I might have Pins characterization a little off because I’ve only watched the show once (I’m gonna rewatch it before I do a shadow and bone rewatch,, moody pin is just a bit too endearing) but other than that, lets do it!

The reader is American for this, and I did mostly keep it gender neutral, aside from an outfit description! Even then, though, I did try to keep it androgynous

Fic type- fluff

Warnings-none

It took a ton of convincing on Pins part to get his dad to let him use the castle for something that, to anyone else, might’ve seemed small. He’d known it might’ve, and started the process a good month before the event was even to happen. A decision that he’d made that wound up working in his favor. 

“You really love them, don’t you?” His father asked, pressing the keys into his palm as Pin gave a nod. “Even with all the stupid nicknames?” Pin grimaced, but nodded again. 

“Even the stupid nicknames, Dad,” he assured. “All of them.” His father broke out into a smile, pulling Pin in for a hug as he tucked the key away into his jacket pocket.

“Well then, happy anniversary,” his father mumbled. “Five years? Gotta admit, I had faith, but I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Not with someone like them.”

“I know,” Pin retorted. “I’m pretty lucky.” Pin knew that ‘pretty lucky’ might as well have been understatement of the year, but went along with it anyway, pulling away from his father and slowly approaching Elvis, patting his side a few times before climbing onto the saddle and riding down to the castle that he, as the duke, could technically call home. 

The castle was big and at times, tough to get around, but he made his way just fine, letting Elvis move at a slow gallop rather than a run, figuring that he had the time, considering you’d agreed to meet at 8 and it was barely 7:15.

When he arrived, he put Elvis away safely, and made his way through the entrance and up to the outdoor balcony, which had a view outlooking the expansive land on which the castle was built, and the trees that went around the outerrim of the space.

He grabbed his bag off the chair on which he’d had his butler leave it the day previous, almost grinning to himself as he sat at the glass table, rummaging through the bag for everything that he’d put in it.

A bottle of wine, because why not, several sweets, a ton of the polaroids you’d taken in the seven years you’d known each other, some fairy lights that he’d hang up so that you weren’t totally and completely in the dark, and a bluetooth speaker that Becky had gotten him that Christmas; one that he’d still not bothered to use, despite the fact that it was almost June. 

“Can I get you anything sir?” Arthur poked his head through the balcony door way, and Pin found himself startled. 

“Uh, yes please. Wine glasses,” Arthur gave a single, solitary nod.

“The dinner that you requested will be here by the time you requested for it,” he responded. “Though, are you really sure fast food is what you want? It doesn’t seem right to celebrate an anniversary with fast food.” Pin forced his gaze to his lap so that Arthur wouldn’t glimpse his smile. 

You’d come from America, just like Zoe had, but you’d moved with your family to the island when you were eleven. You’d met Pin when you were thirteen. 

One summer, Pins father was insistent that he get away from the stables, spend some time somewhere he’d not gone before, travel a little, and your family had agreed to let him spend the eight weeks of summer with you in the united states. 

You’d had your first date in a McDonalds that same summer, when you and Pin were fifteen. He’d felt weirded out, at first. The fact that he’d never eaten from a McDonalds, despite there having been a couple on the island, almost made him confused. You’d gotten chicken nuggets to split and a couple of the pastries to count as a desert of sorts, and thus sparked the relationship.

“No reason,” Pin murmured. “It’s quick. It’s easy, and the last meal that they ate was lunch.” Arthur gave another nod, and Pin began fiddling with the speaker as he heard Arthurs footsteps grow farther and farther away. 

It was a speaker that was almost the size of his hand and designed to look like a vintage radio. Forest green was the color, and the dial on the right side would control volume. The three buttons below the dial were the power button, the on/off button, and the skip button. Pin turned it on, checking the sound quality by playing two MCR songs, silently bopping his head as Arthur returned, the supplies that Pin had asked Arthur to gather in a bag perched neatly on his arm.

Arthur placed the bag on the table wordlessly, leaving Pin to do his thing as he stopped using the speaker,  deciding that the sounds of nature; the river, the rustling of trees and the beautiful view of the sky as the sun grew closer and closer to setting was much better company than Gerard Way scream-singing his lungs out. 

He’d spent the remainder of the time he had working on your gift. At the end of it, he felt proud of himself, even despite how dumb he’d thought the idea was at first.

It was all of his favorite photos of you--polaroids he’d taken via polaroid camera and polaroids that became polaroids when he’d used a polaroid printer alike-- neatly put into a big picture frame, plus a couple of his sweaters that you liked to steal, some of your favorite sweets, and a journal he knew you’d been eyeing at one of the shops. 

Arthur put the McDonalds onto the table in the last ten minutes before eight, putting the wine glasses beside the bag. “I’ll send them here when they’ve arrived,” he murmured, shooting Pin a smile as he turned and walked away. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Pin had the dinner mostly set up, the chicken nuggets at the center of the table, fries on either side, wine glasses filled the appropriate amount. 

“You’re lucky I love you, Hawthorne,” Pin was almost breathless as he glanced over to you, putting the bag that he’d put your gift in on the ground to his right. “If you were anyone else, I’d not have waited so long to eat dinner.” You’d worn a simple pair of black jeans, with a black turtleneck and a dark gray blazer overtop. You styled your hair like you always did, and your smile was bright, eyes warm as you looked at him.

“McDonalds and wine,” you sat, putting the gift you’d gotten Pin on the ground to your left, reaching across the table and taking his hand in yours. “The perfect way to a persons heart.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, gesturing to the fairy lights Arthur must’ve put up while he was busy in the world of gift making. They weren’t lit yet, as the sun had barely begun to dip over the horizon, but he’d light them once it grew darker. You nodded.

“It’s absolutely lovely,” you responded. “I didn’t think you’d put this much effort in, to be totally honest.” You were poking at him, pricking gently at his work ethic in the hopes of getting a kiss across the table. 

“I’d have been fine just cuddling the day away,” you admitted. “And I know you would’ve, but thank you. For everything.” He smiled, feeling grateful for Zoe’s suggestion that he use the castles balcony to his advantage when he’d brought his plans up to her and Marcus. 

“You’re welcome,” he responded. 

After that, you lapsed into a comfortable silence, making occasional conversation as you ate and drank. You let Pin ramble about the sick horses at Bright Fields and made a mental note to visit the hospital part of the stables, see how they were doing and make sure they knew that they were loved. As you cleaned up, putting your garbage back into the McDonalds bag, you gave Pin updates on some of the horses around the stables and the wild horses that you and Jade had been tracking. 

“There’s a foal, too!” Pin loved seeing you get so excited, and that was no exception. “I know that we shouldn’t name the wild horses, but I couldn’t help myself, so I named the horse November.”

“Why November?”

“The foals coat is white. Snow is white, and snow happens in November. It just seemed fitting!” You grabbed the bag, going inside only briefly to put it into the nearest trash bin before walking back out and sitting back down. 

Pin grabbed the bag with your gift in it at the same time you grabbed the bag with his. He slid yours to you with a bright smile, and you slid his to him with the same.

You opened yours first. “Your hoodies!” You yelled out, smile turning into a full on beam, “Pin, you know that we’re moving in together in the fall, right? You’re just gonna get these back!” Pin shrugged.

“You get them until the fall, I’ll wash them, wear them a couple of times, and then they’re yours again. I get to see you in my clothes and you get to be warm and comfortable constantly! I call it a win-win situation!” 

“Can’t disagree with that!” You put the sweaters back in the bag, grabbing the photo frame next. 

You sighed, feeling your legs turn to jello as your heart melted. You looked up at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you did. “Five years of polaroids,” you whispered. “And you’re giving them back to me?” Pin just shrugged, feeling tempted to round the table, crouch next to you and kiss you senseless, but he resisted. 

“I took photos of them,” he responded, pulling his phone out of his pants pocket and waving it around. “I can always get more copies from the polaroid printer.” You laughed lightly.

“Thank you, Pin, so much.” You’d never stop saying it. You had so much to thank him for. Every smile, every laugh, every dinner date, every ride out into the countryside and every kiss. 

“You don’t need to thank me, love,” he responded. “Theres one more thing in there for you.” He gestured to the bag as you put the photo frame back into it, pulling out the journal you’d been eying a moment later. 

“No fucking way!” You cursed, turning it over in your hands. Pin leaned back into his chair, shrugging while he nodded. 

It was a simple journal: a brown leather bound thing that was the same color as Elvis’s fur, but it had pages that were suitable for practically anything.

“I know you’ve wanted it for a while, and, well, I figured you could use it for just about anything. Sketches, diary entries, even putting bank statements in the thing would make a good use for it,” You slightly stood, planting a kiss to his nose across the table. 

You put the journal back into the bag and gestured to the bag he’d put in his lap. “It’s your turn, duke.”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered. He narrowed his eyes at you, but the smirk that followed after told you he’d not been serious. 

The first thing he’d pulled out was a scrapbook of the years that you’d spent together. From photos like the victory one that Ted had taken after you’d completed riding lessons, Pin doing a thumbs up on the right side of your horse while you sat on it still, throwing a peace sign and smiling, to random photos you’d taken together. 

Blurry ones that’d been taken with the timer feature. You flipping off the camera while Pin flopped back onto his bed. One from when you were both sixteen, in the middle of turning around, his arms snaked around your waist and yours resting on his shoulders as you kissed, the screen blurred but not so blurred that you couldn’t tell what was happening. 

A couple that Zoe, Jade, Becky and Marcus had taken. You, exhausted, with your head in Pins lap as he fiddled with a camera, curled up and almost hidden from sight in the haybales. You and Pin at the pony prom, slow dancing, looking at each other with nothing but love in your eyes. A shot taken as you and Pin left the stables, backs to the camera, hands interlocked. A photo of you and Pin in the haybales again, you with your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, hay in your hair. A laptop sat discarded beside Pins sleeping body, playing old episodes of Criminal Minds. Both of you had sleepy smiles on your faces. 

Pin laughed as he saw more than one picture of you two asleep in the haybales, some taken by Jade, most taken by Zoe, though there were a few shots that’d been taken by his father. 

“I love this,” he glanced up at you, then to the speaker that sat on the edge of the table. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, horse-boy!” He snorted, putting the scrapbook on the table and grabbing the next thing in the bag.

It was a sweater; one that he’d not seen since before his eighteenth birthday. “Thief,” he murmured, folding the sweater and putting it atop the scrapbook. 

“You’re my favorite person,” was your lovestruck retort. He blushed as he grabbed the last thing in the bag.

It was a camera; a polaroid to replace the one that’d been broken in the months before, and it was vintage. 

“You didn’t,” he looks up at you, face showing disbelief as clearly as his voice did. In response, you just shrugged.

“We’ve taken a lot of photos, and you loved the polaroid camera. I used a connection or two that I have and I grabbed it for you.”

“How much was it?” He asked. “We had a limit! No more than fifty pounds!” 

“It was forty nine pounds, and the taming of a wild horse found just outside the coast of Maine. She comes in a couple of days, by the way.” Pin put the things back in the bag and stood, grabbing the speaker and turning it on, connecting his phone to it a minute later.

“You love chaos,” he teased. “But I love you, so I love it by association.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it, giggling as he pulled you in close, bringing you into a passionate kiss that lingered on your lips even after it’d ended. 

He paused only to have Yellow by Coldplay stream through the speaker, putting his phone on the table next to it.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, emphasizing more on his accent in a silly way to get you to laugh. It worked, to his delight, as you nodded, cheeks flushing bright red.

“You may have every dance, if you so wish it,” he felt his cheeks heat up as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently swaying with you as your arms moved to rest at his shoulders and his moved to your waist, wrapping around it, his hands meeting and folding at the small of your back. ‘

He’d found a way to loop the song so that it played a couple of times back to back, but you didn’t mind. You had Pin. You had Pin and his sarcasm, his smiles, his voice, still drenched with sleep in the mornings and his peaceful face while he slept. You had tea in the mornings, quiet afternoons spent riding or in helping horses, and evenings laughing with your friends, Pin at your side. 

You’d known Pin for seven years, and you’d been dating him for five. He was like the lgiht at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel, and he embraced you tightly as you finally escaped it. 

“What makes you happy?” he asked you absentmindedly, just to get to hear the melodic sound of your voice again. You laughed, meeting his gaze with a smile. 

“You, Pin,” you responded. “You make me happy.” He stared at you for a long moment, wishing that he had what he’d kept in his sock drawer since Christmas. 

“What makes you happy?” You repeated.

“You, Y/N. Always you,” you leaned up, pressing your lips to his without so much as thinking twice.

The kiss was messy, and you stumbled backward a little, but you giggled as you did. When you pulled away, you were delighted to find that Pins cheeks were burning as bright as yours, the same red that coated some parts the sky as the sun dipped down the horizon. 

“You’re the love of my life,” Pin was almost in awe at how easily you said it, like you’d been reading off a grocery list or ingredients for a recipe. Pin had wanted to say it since he’d bought the thing that sat in that pathetic little sock drawer, but he’d still not figured out how to say it and make it worthwhile.

“Do you want forever?” The closest he’d get, but he was fine with that, and relieved as you’d nodded. “I promise you forever then, Y/N.”

[secretlyblue12]

Day 7: Pumpkin picking

The first week done!!! That's so cool, I'm loving seeing everyone's stuff so far and really excited to see the rest of the month. XD This one is an IRL one based the vlog premise, so that's exciting. I kept switching between if I wanted to do this with Tommy or Tubbo, but ended up keeping it on Tubbo so yeah.

It had been an all-day event, but there would be at least two vlogs coming out of it so it was a day well spent for the group of friends. Both Tommy and Jack had done filming, but the day was coming to an end, and Tubbo was feeling all the energy he had put into it sputter out. Somehow Tommy was still going strong, and Wilbur and Jack were struggling to keep the ‘kids’ in order.

Tommy had run off with Jack somewhere, the two filmings each other running around the pumpkin patch, determined to find the perfect one before the other got it. Ranboo followed them from a distance, laughing and joking, holding cameras when needed, and such.

Tubbo sighed heavily, hefting his pumpkin higher against his chest. Wilbur gave him a strange look, bumping shoulders and nearly sending the unsuspecting Tubbo to the ground. He chuckled, making sure Tubbo wasn’t going to fall over, before asking if he was alright. “You just seem to be out of it right now.”

Tubbo nodded, “Just tired. We’ve been out all day, man, I am just ready to head home.” It wasn’t that he wasn’t having fun, just that his social battery had run out about an hour ago, and now he was just barely dragging on and keeping face for the cameras. He wanted to make sure he kept up with all the bits and jokes but found himself zoning out more often than not. “And my feet hurt, how far in do you think we’re going to have to walk in here before they’re all run out?”

Wilbur looked over at the trio who were crowded around a pile of pumpkins laughing at something. “Probably got a while left, do you want to sit down and rest a bit?” He suggested, looking for a clearing.

Tubbo nodded, letting Wilbur guide him over to the side without a word. Tommy’s screams faded away and before he knew it he was sitting in the grass, his pumpkin set off to the side and head between his knees. Wilbur put a hand on his shoulder before giving the teen space.

They sat like that, in mutual silence, till the distant conversations grew louder and closer, making Tubbo lookup with dull eyes and a slight grimace. Wilbur made some quick gestures, and the volume came down to inside voices.

“Are we done then?” Wilbur asked, stretching and leaning against a tree to push himself up.

Tommy and Jack nodded, both of them fiddling with their things to get them where they needed to be. “Yeah, missed you both towards the end. We might do some more filming on the way home, or do the outro real quick while we’re all together real quick.”

Jack and Tommy both finished up, showing off everyone’s pumpkins and zooming in on Tubbo, who was out for the count. Everything was finished quickly, and then there was the final talk of how the videos went, or what bits they would keep in. Everyone was packing up and gathering their things, well, everyone except Tubbo who remained firmly on the ground.

“Come on Tubs,” Tommy whined, reaching down to tug at his hand. “We’re going to bring you home now, sorry we stayed out so late.”

Tubbo whined, letting himself be dragged across the ground. “My leg’s hurt though, don’t make me stand up yet!”

Everyone laughed, making different efforts to get the boy standing. In the end, it took Ranboo jokingly offering Wilbur up for piggyback ride services. “Really? I- okay, is it bad if I’m actually considering it. My legs are killing me, dude.”

Wilbur hesitated, before leaning over. “Fine, but just because I think you might actually die if we made you walk.”

Watching Tubbo get to his feet was funny, after sitting for a while it was as if his legs had shut down. He felt like a newborn gazelle, shaky and unsteady, but Wilbur crouched down for him to get on. It only took another minute, and Ranboo offering to carry Tubbo’s pumpkin as well as his own, for them to be on their way.

“Really,” Wilbur teased, hiking tubbo up higher on his back, “the fact that you’re shorter than the rest of us is a good thing.” Ranboo snorted, and Tommy cackled. They had all heard Tubbo’s rants about how they were all just unnecessarily tall before, though Jack was the closest to his own height. When Tubbo whined into Wilbur’s neck, the older gave his knees a sympathetic squeeze, not expecting him to kick out with a squeak.

“Wihilbur, don’t do that.” Tubbo giggled, clinging on to Wil’s sweater.

Wilbur giggled deviously, “Oh, you’re ticklish then Tubbo? Maybe that will help your mood, get your energy back and all that.” He held on to Tubbo with one hand, reaching back with the other to scribble at his side. He wasn’t expecting much, Tubbo was wearing a rather thick sweatshirt, but Tubbo was tired enough that even the thought of it happening sent butterflies fluttering across his skin.

Tubbo giggled frantically, squirming as much as he could without running the risk of falling off his perch. “It wohon’t! Wihil, I- ihit tihihckles.”

Jack cooed at him off to the side. “Awe, look at him. He’s so sweet like this, can’t believe he was threatening to stab us just a few hours ago.”

Tommy was all but bouncing next to him. “Yeah! Get him Wil, Tubso needs to smile cause he’s been in a right state.” He switched his pumpkin over to one hand, poking at Tubbo’s other side and chuckling evilly when he jerked back and forth between him and Wilbur.

Tubbo kicked his legs and brought one arm down to swat at Tommy’s hand. “Stohop ihit! You’re nohot helpihing.”

Wilbur had to toss Tubbo back up in the air to keep him from slipping down. “You’re a squirmy little thing, aren’t you? Some help here guys? Make sure he doesn’t fall backward or anything.”

Jack followed Tommy’s lead, reaching over with a free hand and wiggling his fingers at the teen’s neck, smiling when Tubbo squealed and shook his head back and forth before hiding in Wil’s neck. He could see pink slowly making its way up Tubbo’s neck and to the tips of his ears through his hair. “Look at that, he’s going all red, isn’t he. Come get in on this Ranboo while you can.”

It was well known that Ranboo ended up being a common victim among everyone, so any chance he had to get he went for it.

Ranboo looked down at his hands, both of which were full of pumpkins, and then back up to Jack with a blank look on his face. “We might have a slight issue with that, I- um. I have pumpkins.”

“Doho it ahand I wihill kihihill you lahater Rahahan- TOHohomy, Naha!”

Jack looked over to where Tommy had snuck his hand between Tubbo and Wilbur, squeezing at his stomach and making Tubbo kick out violently. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle along, “Now that’s just mean, mate.”

Wilbur brought his other hand back to hold onto Tubbo more steadily. “Jeez man, you’re a kicker. ACK- careful, don’t choke me. Tommy not so much.” Wilbur jerked with Tubbo when he flung himself back to get away from Tommy, hands still around Wilbur’s neck.

Jack put his hand on Tubbo’s back, making sure he wouldn’t fall backward. “Switch me Ranboo, I’ll take the pumpkins.”

Tommy scooted over, letting Jack and Ranboo do a transfer and holding Tubbo up with one arm around his waist, still clawing into his tummy. “He’s fine, Wil. See, you’re fine, aren’t you Tubso? I think you were right, he’s getting his energy back now.”

Tubbo didn’t even bother to complain, just sinking back into Tommy’s chest, only to be transferred over to Ranboo.

“H-hi.”

Ranboo smiled down at Tubbo who was leaned back on him, head tilted all the way back to be able to look at him properly. “Hi, Tubbo. How’re you doing?”

Tubbo shook his head, not able to stop his anxious giggles. “You dohon’t have to do this, I’ll get you back ten times worse.”

“Mhm,” Ranboo hummed, “I think I do though. A-and you’ll do that no matter what so, an empty threat.”

Before Tubbo could make any more threats Ranboo had a hand sneaking under his shirt and scribbling on his side. Tubbo ended up releasing his hold on Wilbur entirely besides from where the eldest still had his legs under him and melting entirely into Ranboo’s chest. It was like lightning was coming right from Ranboo's fingertips, zaping every nerve ending until he couldn't even squirm away anymore to get away from the feeling.

He explored while he could, being careful not to wear Tubbo out too much more than he already was. The conversation carried on mostly like normal, with the occasional comment on if Tubbo’s laugh got high pitch or changed suddenly. They got a few odd looks when they got closer to the front of the pumpkin patch, but Ranboo wrapped it up and leaned Tubbo back against Wilbur’s back.

Tubbo just gave a half-hearted grumble, a few threats distinguishable between the mutterings along the lines of “Wait till later… get you back… not over.” which Wilbur would carefully warn Ranboo about later. A Tubbo with a reason for revenge was a Tubbo to fear after all.

He wouldn’t have to worry for now though, because, by the time Tommy opened the door for Wilbur to let Tubbo slide in, the boy was barely awake enough to register himself being moved, and Ranboo had to be careful not to let Tubbo collapse fully onto the ground.

They shuffled him around until he was buckled up, everyone else filing in after and settling into quiet conversations for the ride home.

Even Tubbo would have to admit though, by the end of the whole ordeal he felt a lot more positive than he had before. That didn’t mean the others would get off scot-free though, they’d just have to wait for him to rest up first.

[tatticstudio55]

For Jonerys Winter Wonderland Day 1 - Christmas magic

@snowxstormworld

From The World of Ice and Fire (sixth edition, written by Maester Doofusattic):

 Fragments of a tale of travels beyond the Wall were found at Eastwatch in 500 AC. The tale itself was quite odd and widely regarded at first to be a drunken jape, written by a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch who likely never ventured beyond the Wall. The writing, indeed, wasn’t found among books and archives but tucked under a barrel of Arbor Gold and brimmed with fancies such as “magical snow-makers”, birds with three eyes spying on children, a very large man dressed in red and white, gifts for children hidden under trees, mammoths flying sleighs over the Wall and “little elves” with “very large ears”. The then-maester at Eastwatch, however, suggested that this was no drunken folly at all, but a poor translation of texts written in the Old Tongue and found in a cave (accounts differs as to the precise location of the cave*). The large man, he argued, might’ve been nothing more than a weirwood tree (he added that “gifts” could indeed be found under those trees, though whether or not they be the sort children whish for is another matter). Nor was it uncommon for Old Tongue speakers to write with pictures instead of words. “I saw the drawing of the flying mammoth”, he’s reported to have said. “It looked like a dragon with a trunk”.

The rest is queerer. For one, while the little, large-eared “elves” might be easily identified as children of the forest, the origins of the sleighs remain a mystery. One account of a ranger (one who seldom consumed ale or wine, it is said) do talk of a young boy carried on a sleigh beyond the Wall, although “very large” that boy was certainly not. Our available (mis)translation of the tale also tells of a strange behavior observed among these so-called “three eyes” birds: “They perch on the big man in red and white and whisper the names of children to him. The big man gives presents to the children who were good and eat the ones who were bad.”

Strangest of all are the parts about the snow-makers: one of them a sleigh maker, the other an elf, it is said that whenever they flew their mammoths over the Wall (for they were both “mammoth” riders), a soft, shining snow would start falling, turning into baby pearls as soon as it touched the ground. More recently, it has been put forward that the sleigh maker and the elf were in fact no sleigh maker and elf at all, but a young man, who some believed to be a ghost, and a young woman with silvery hairs, both of whom seen for the last time beyond the Wall some two hundred years ago if rumors be believed. Storytelling of snowfalls turning into pearls doubtless makes for a charming children’s tale, even if (somewhat) more historically accurate accounts of this story would suggest that the “snow-makers” expression meant something else entirely**.

 *Septon Bells believed that the place was called “the Nortpole cave” and brought the matter to the Citadel, asking if they knew where that could be. The answers were unanimous: “we do not know, but it has to be somewhere in the North.”

**A song called “The snowmakers” is oft sung at Flint’s weddings alongside of “Milady’s Supper” and “The Queen Took Off Her Sandal, The King Took Off His Crown”.