#yo wait WHAT if i had this written next to my tattoo of him

[coochellati]

I feel like Bruno is the kind of guy to have impeccable handwriting

I mean, look at his signature:

that’s gorgeous

[ellies-little-thing]

Secretly (e.w.)

pairing: modern!ellie / fem!reader 

Warnings: NSFW; smut; reader is referred to as she/her; reader has a vagina; fingering; strap-on usage; kind of proofread, english is not my first language.

Author's notes: Hey, I haven’t written in so long and got a sudden strike of creativity last night so i hope you enjoy it!

MEN AND MINORS DNI

word count: 2.7k

You and Ellie have always had chemistry. None of you ever did anything about it though, too scared to ruin your friendship. You have been friends for so long. She was always making jokes and making you smile. On other times that you had gone out with her, you had seen her talk to some other girls and were secretly jealous of them. Of how she spoke to them, how she touched them, how she looked at them, and of how many of them have gone home with her at the end of the night.

You had agreed to go out on a Friday night with your group of friends and she was going too. You put on a little black dress, with a pair of high heels. Your makeup was  the perfect mixture of cute and mysterious with your black winged eyeliner and your pink lip gloss. As you arrive at the bar you see Ellie waiting at the door for you with one of your mutual friends, Dina. Dina was a beautiful girl. Dark hair and eyes, tanned skin. very well built. The sweetest and friendliest person you'll ever meet. Ellie was wearing her hair in her usual messy half bun, an oversized t-shirt, her forearm tattoo on display, a pair of jeans and her trusty black converse all star. She always looked good, but there was something different tonight. You just couldn't tell what it was.

You and Ellie immediately lock eyes with each other, you can notice her cheeks starting to get a little red. As you finally get close to them and say your hellos, Ellie looks away and avoids eye contact. You think this is a bit odd, she always playfully teases you about how done up you got and that you were trying to pick up some random guy that you knew wouldn't be more than a one night stand. This time she didn't even comment on the length, or lack thereof, of your dress. She's acting strange. You just shake it off and go inside together. You see another one of your friends waiting for you all, sitting down at a table. His name was Jesse, he was Dinas boyfriend. He was super nice, tall, dark hair and eyes, a beautiful smile and super friendly to everyone. As you sat down all together, Ellie sat in the spot next to you, still not looking at you. Jesse signals the bartender to bring a round for you four. When the drinks arrive you make a toast.

A few drinks after, Ellie was less shy and finally made her usual jokes which helped calm down your paranoia that there was something wrong between you. Dina and Jesse got up to dance together so you two were left alone at the table. You took a sip of your drink as you watched them walk up to the dance floor. With the music in the background you and Ellie stay silent for a few uncomfortable seconds. You tried to pull your dress down a bit, it was slipping up due to your sitting position. She watched you as you did it. She cleared her throat as she looked away from you discreetly, trying to give you some privacy. 

“Hey, want another drink?” She asked you with a little smirk on her face. You accepted the offer and she went over to the counter to get it. A guy was looking at you up and down from across the room. You blushed a bit when you noticed him. After a minute or two, Ellie comes back with two glasses of beer, one for each of you. You thanked her with a smile as she sat down next to you. The guy was starting to come your way and Ellie noticed. Her expression hardened as she stared at him, clearly unhappy with the situation. You were a bit tipsy so when he asked you to dance you accepted. You asked Ellie to look over your drink while you were gone and she gave you an uncomfortable smile of agreement. Her piercing green eyes focused on you and that boy. She wasn't happy with the situation, but you two were just friends. She couldn't possibly be jealous, right? That's what she thought to herself as she debated internally about the situation. After a bit, Dina and Jesse come back to the table and ask her where you had gone. Ellie then points at you on the dancefloor having fun with that guy from earlier. When the song ended you came back to the table as well. Ellies expression seemed a bit more relieved when she saw you coming back. You waved the boy goodbye as you sat down. 

“So, how was it?” Dina asks you excitedly. “It was fun honestly, I wasn't expecting someone to ask me to dance tonight.” You replied in between smiles. You continued talking with Dina about the experience. You were speaking in a slurred tone due to the alcohol on your system. Ellie had her gaze on you. Definitely getting uncomfortable as you talked about it with Dina, so she finishes the rest of her drink in one go, trying to calm herself down.

“Hey Ellie? Can you come with me to the bathroom?” You ask her in a gentle tone and her expression softens immediately. “I don't think I can walk there on my own.” You let out a nervous laugh, but the truth is you are drunk. You drank a bit too much than you should have.

“Sure. Of course.” Ellie says, as she gets up from her chair and waits for you to support yourself on her. She walks you to the bathroom and helps you into the stall. The lock on it was broken so she stood there waiting for you to do your business. Before she closed the door she saw you pull your underwear down and blushed instantly. She couldn't believe she saw that, you. When you flushed the toilet you noticed the door was slightly cracked open. When you go to open it you catch Ellie red handed. She was watching you. You looked at her with a surprised expression on your face. 

When you opened the door she took a step backwards immediately, trying not to seem like a creep, but to be honest the alcohol was taking effect on her too. She scratched the back of her head as she apologized looking at the ground, her face red, her voice trembling a bit with nervous laughs in between. You looked up at her freckled face and felt an urge to kiss her, so with the help of your trusty liquid courage, you grabbed her by the collar of her shirt into the stall with you in a swift and fast move. You still were shorter than her even in your heels so you got on your tiptoes to kiss her. She got caught by surprise but quickly returned the kiss, closing the door behind her.

She then grabbed you by the hips and pinned you to the wall in the heat of the moment. Your kiss was growing in intensity. You could feel your body getting hotter and hotter, as her tongue explored your mouth and yours hers. You were both almost breathless but neither wanted the kiss to stop, you grabbed her face as you continued. Her hands traveling your body, exploring, as they wanted to do for so long. You can feel goosebumps forming as her hands go to your legs and start reaching under your dress. Your breath gets heavier with her touch. The moment is filled with enthusiasm and desire as both of you have been pushing down these feelings for such a long time. She breaks the kiss and moves down to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin. You let out soft moans as she kissed and bit you gently. Her hands continue until she reaches your ass. She squeezes it making you feel your core heat up. She comes back up to kiss you.

“Fuck… I wanted to do this for so long…” Ellie breathes out in between kisses, being rougher with her touch. With her right hand she reaches your inner thigh, going up and up slowly, until she finally touches you through your underwear. It's electrifying. The moment you felt her fingers over your clothed pussy you felt a shiver going down your spine. She started rubbing her fingers in tiny circles gently at first. Once she understood you wanted it too, she slipped your panties to the side dipping her fingers in your wetness. You hear an almost primal grunt as you kiss her, making your mouth tremble once she feels you, which only makes you more wet.

“Is this all because of me?” She asked you in a sultry tone, in your ear. All you could do was blush, no words were coming out of your mouth, only moans, muffled by the music outside, as she rubbed your swollen, needy clit. “Oh baby girl, cat got your tongue?” She has a mischievous smirk on her face now, feeling confident due to your body's reaction to her touch. Her nimble fingers fasten their pace, only making your moans louder and her smirk wider. She inserts one of her fingers slowly into you, looking you in the eyes, making sure you're okay with it. Once she gets your nod of approval, she starts pumping it in and out, gradually faster, eventually adding a second one. She kisses you so the noises you're making can't be heard by anyone outside. She pushes herself harder onto you and you can feel a bulge under her jeans. Her confidence is through the roof, did she really wear her strap-on under her clothes? You couldn't believe it. “Ellie… What… Why are you wearing that?” You ask out of breath in between moans as she continues to pump her fingers into you. You knew she sometimes wore it under her clothes when she went out, because she had told you that herself. But only on nights were she really wanted someone specific.

“Oh, this? Don’t worry about it… Just enjoy the moment, baby girl.” Her skilled fingers work their magic on you. You notice that familiar feeling in your lower belly growing. As the tension builds up, so do your moans, she has no choice but to cover your mouth with her hand. “Shhh… we dont want others to hear this now, do we?” She asks, whispering in your ear. You can feel your orgasm approaching. She looks into your eyes with a demanding look, almost threatening, waiting for you to reply to her. So you shake your head no and she smiles at you again, leaving that serious expression behind. “That's it, good girl…”

All this, plus the drinks you’ve had, left you more sensitive, and with her hand over your mouth not taking her eyes off of yours, you feel your orgasm coming faster than normal. She realizes this and smiles. “Come on, that's it…. come for me…” She whispers to you, and with the sound of her voice your body succumbs. Her fingers make you feel so good, no one has ever made you feel like this. After you've reached your peak, she helps you come down from your high gently, slowing down her movements until she finally stops and uncovers your mouth. “Ellie, I…” You are cut off by her stuffing her fingers into your mouth. You can taste yourself on them, and her expression is priceless. You've never seen this side of hers, it's hypnotizing. Sure enough, you catch yourself licking her fingers clean as she bites her lower lip. After her fingers come out of your mouth, she uses that same hand to grab you by the neck. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Her eyes darken, as she looks at you like you are nothing but a toy for her to play with. With her free hand she unzips her jeans revealing her strap. She doesnt take her eyes off of your face as she does it, wanting to see each of the movements of your face, every expression.

“Do you know what I'm gonna do now?” She asks you, almost as a rhetorical question. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re not gonna make a sound understand?” Her smile disappears. She looks at you with a serious expression awaiting your response. You nod when her grip on your throat tightens. Then she turns you around, pulls your panties down and your dress up, leaving you exposed for her to see. She looks you up and down, admiring your beautiful body. You are not going anywhere before she's finished with you. She aligns herself with you, pressing you against the wall, ready to penetrate you. You can feel the coldness of the dildo on your vulva as she prepares herself. She opens your legs a bit more and covers your mouth once again so you'll be quiet. “Not a sound, understood?... Ready?...” Ellie asks you in a raspy tone. You nod desperately, you’ve never wanted anything more. As soon as she sees your head move she starts entering you slowly, making you gasp for air.

With her free hand, she grips your hip making sure she fucks you just right. At first she is gentle but her pace starts getting faster and rougher. She starts hitting that spongy spot inside you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as she just gets more erratic with her movements. You can't control it and let out muffled moans as her hand is still over your mouth. This only makes Ellie more excited and determined to make you cum the hardest you've ever come in your life. You can feel your second orgasm of the night forming in your stomach. You grab her wrist to get a bit more stability as she fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. She understands your orgasm is coming.so she goes faster, as if that was possible. Your legs start shaking as it washes over you for the second time tonight. You can hear her grunts as she now plows you for her own pleasure. 

She continues even after you've already come, reaching for her own high. You can feel her thrusts getting harder but fewer. Signaling her own orgasm. After she stops, she rests her head on your shoulder for a few seconds before pulling out. She uncovers your mouth, so you can catch your breath. You turn around and with her hands on your shoulders she says. “Now you're gonna be a really good girl and clean me up, okay?” Immediately after saying that, she pushes you to your knees placing your face right in front of the dildo that was just now inside you. Ellie places her hands on your head and grips your hair making you suck on her strap as she looks down on you. As if it is an extension of her and she can actually feel your mouth around her. She makes you deep throat her one last time before she lets go of your hair, letting you breathe. 

Both of you catch your breaths and fix yourselves up, making sure no one will suspect a thing. You both come out of the bathroom, as if nothing happened and come back to the table with Jesse and Dina. “You sure took your sweet time girls.” Says Dina in a playful way. As you were about to speak, Ellie cut you off. “There was a long line, you know how the girls bathroom is.” She laughs as she puts her hand on your thigh under the table without anyone else noticing. You share a mischievous look before you both go back to sipping on your drinks and talking with your friends.

[b612sunsets]

Ahhh I’m happy to see someone else loving The Devil Judge - it truly is amazing 😭😭🖤✨ I love Yo-Han and Ga-on’s relationship I swear let them be destructive together!

I hate waiting for new episodes so please tell me one of your theories, it can be about anything! 🥰

Right?! I love it so much, it's really good to have our lilttle fam getting bigger, can't wait until it airs on Netflix, we will have even more people going crazy about it in here! (at least I hope it will become a Netflix series after the show ends like Beyon Evil - another love of mine) and yes, lawful husbands can be destructive together but only to the bad people pls 🥺

It's tough waiting for new episodes every weekend and at the same time I wish for it not to end so soon. It hasn't finished but I already want Jisung and Jinyoung in a second season or working together in another drama. Their chemistry on screen is too good to stop there

About the theories, there's a few I saw on reddit/twitter and I make my own based on it and after watching every episode, but I think it's too early to talk about them. However, since you requested it, there's some that come to mind as interesting enough to mention.

The fire and the story behind it narrated by Yohan

1- Some people think Yohan did start the fire because he found out about the dirty politicians real intentions and decided to destroy them all in the same place before Isaac could donate the money bc he is "a devil" and capable of that since he was a kid as told by the priest with the school incident and the nanny with the maid and dog thing. side note: not for pranking some kids who bullied him because that's all it seems like, right? But in terms of observing, thinking strategically and being one step ahead when needing to punish the whole classroom who wronged him even as young as he was and feeling satisfied while watching the result and staying out of it. A type of mentality probably encouraged by Isaac and the books he gave him to read, unlike a regular kid who would just fight back or endure it. And we still have to see if it really was Yohan that contributed to the maid's death or if it was something/someone else and the nanny thinks it was him.

They think that Elijah even saw him in front of the door right before the fire started and smiled at him instead of smiling at her parents, like she did in the gates of the cathedral in the previous scene, so that's why she hates him so much now because she can remember seeing him as the responsible for it. But Yohan didn't intend to kill/hurt Isaac and the rest of the family, thinking he could save them or something, and felt guilty that he couldn't do so. Some even said that Yohan delayed too much in trying to save them after entering the church and seeing Elijah getting her legs hurt, that it may have been shock but why would he remember everything and everyone so clearly if he was in shock?

It's a good theory but I have my own remarks: why wouldn't he tell Isaac about the politicians himself if he knew the dirty about them then? They had a close relationship and Isaac gave him books about punishment and everything, it wasn't like Isaac was too naive and wouldn't believe his half-brother. He wouldn't have donated if Yohan told him. "Oh he was being the devil and finding a way to punish them instead of just letting is slide and not donating" still, Yohan wouldn't risk Isaac and Elijah with such a dangerous plan if he could avoid having Isaac and Elijah at all in the destruction scene by telling Isaac about it. It could have been shock and Yohan wanting to look and commit to mind everyone's face in that day responsible for hurting his niece and not caring about anyone else but themselves, pushing him away and delaying his attempt to get to them in time, leaving Isaac and the family behind (after they almost donated them their money) and things like that. So he can avenge them now, like he did in the school with the kids. That's why as soon as he could, he canceled the donation in the most easy way by saying his brother wasn't sane enough to make that decision before dying.

There's also the theories about Isaac being the insane/evil one, which wouldn't surprise me because I've considered it since episode 3 but at the same time I'll not be touching that topic now and I don't know if I ever will unless proven otherwise in some other episode

2- The other theory I have and saw people discussing (the one I'm most inclined to believe because I'm Yohan biased but again it's too soon to be sure) is that the story Yohan narrated is mostly if not completely true and he experiences extreme guilt for not coming back and saving Isaac when the church collapsed on him, as seen in the character introduction by tvN translated in this tweet that we now know it's about Isaac:

The last words Yohan said to Isaac was that he was going to come back for him, so he experiences nightmares like the flashbacks we saw in episode 1 and that's why we don't see any scene of Isaac in the middle of the church after the fire staring at Yohan or during the fire and turning to stare directly at Yohan when he narrates it. Because they're dreams and his guilty conscience and he remembers them when looking at Gaon. The flashback of Yohan kneeling down and touching Isaac with Elijah's bear close to him could be after he got Elijah out from there and he went back to put the bear next to him kinda like a "Sorry for not coming back in time", a reassurance that his daughter for whom he died for is safe and will always stay with him, a "Goodbye". He wouldn't just let Isaac's body lying there, he would go back even if it was too late.

Another thing is that when Yohan is showing Gaon his scar after telling the story, there's a book fallen at his feet. I think it was the thing that fell when Yohan standed up from the table and choked Gaon (trying hard not to comment on that choking scene as a 🔥 Gahan moment for our delight and imagination bc that's not the point right now lol)

This is the book:

And the first page of this book says "Never again will a single story be told as though it's the only one." - John Berger

I searched about it and it can mean that never again will a story be told as if it's the only one that matters. It could also mean that never again will a story be so encompassing of the elements it tackles that no other story need be written about these elements. A story has many perspectives that cannot be understood by just a single viewpoint. Isn't that what this kdrama is all about?

One of the translations of what Yohan said after Gaon left was:

But there's also another version:

The meaning of what he said changes a bit depending on which translation is more accurate, more so when we add the book quote to the equation.

Kim Gaon and his connection to Kang Yohan

People think Gaon could be Isaac's relative in some way or just a look alike (I think it's just a look alike to contribute to Yohan's obsession/curiosity and their proximity from the start, that's why no one really comments on it, not even Gaon when he sees Isaac's picture). Dear God, let them not be related because it would make shipping our lawful husbands really strange, to say the least.

What I'd like to say and almost everyone is forgetting is that in the tvN character introduction we already have Gaon's past and know he wasn't always a goody two shoes, the man was a juvenile delinquent and can even fight (the rebellious phase he said he made the tattoo in episode 3?). He too sought revenge for his parents when he was 16 because they committed suicide after losing their money and being deceived by multi-level con artists posing as social service workers. But the teacher and Soohyun were able to hold him back.

Yohan's father could be one of the reasons for their death. He was a loan shark and might have lend them money after they lost it all and it caused them to have a great debt, that's why Yohan did a thorough research on Gaon and was interested in him (not only because he resembled his half-brother). They shared one enemy in common and maybe even a place (churches, Yohan's father tended to confess his sins in a church when his debtors killed themselves). Or Yohan might have researched about him at the time he knew Gaon was chosen to be the associate judge sitting on his left side instead of way before, because it's important to Yohan to know who he is dealing with and the dirty of their past if they have any. And then Yohan discovered everything and saw his picture and resemblance to Isaac.

The thing is: they have the same distrust/repulsion of powerful people who deceive the world and had a painful loss because of that. Both of them think they have the other exactly where they want but they get more confused about what it is that they really want from the other and get closer (as said in the summary of episode 5 that tvN released) while figuring it out. They will come to an understanding and probably join forces at some point. We saw it in the end of episode 4, the scene of episode 5 when Gaon says he can understand Yohan's pain but can't trust him if he doesn't tell him everything and then Yohan says Gaon needs to decide if he will get in his way or stay by his side. Gaon might go back to his rebellious days and stay with Yohan to seek revenge together while distancing himself from Soohyun and Jungho who prevented him from doing so

And that's about it! Thank you for your ask and hope my answer is satisfying enough! 💙 The hardest but also most awesome part is having to wait to see.

[sombreboy]

Mused obsession (3)

Written by @sombreboy​​ as Jungkook & @chimoona​​​​ as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog​​​​

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 6k ⇢Ch.warnings: profanity, so much drunken sexual tension, Jimin has a praise kink what's new, masturbation(both), blowjob, cum on Jimin's pretty face, cum on the floor, cum eating, just a bunch of cum, Luxe sheets with a thread count over 500.

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

How the tables had turned. Just yesterday Jimin was teasing Jungkook with a graze to the thigh, leaning so close he could hear his heart beat in his ears. "No questions asked...right?” “N-no questions,” Jimin confirms, not wholly nervous but aching with anticipation. H is wine-stained lips purse naturally as he tries to relax his tense muscles. The buildup is torture, but he has a feeling Jungkook will make it well worth the wait.

Jungkook squeezes the blondes thigh a little harder, internally cursing at how firm it is in his grasp. His eyes roam down Jimin’s features for a moment, as if giving himself time to think.

What does he want? After a moment that felt like forever, but in reality was merely a minute, Kook’s lips finally part as he mumbles out his slurry words. “Let me take pictures of you." It sounds harmless, but what Jungkook has in mind was far from innocent.

Jimin’s eyebrow quirks at the request. “What...kind of pictures?” He asks, but quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, breaking the one rule he himself set for the bet. “I mean…uh…” He tries to recoup regardless of his slip. He can’t help his curiosity. He wasn’t expecting a request so formal yet intimate. A personal photoshoot, in the private mansion of Jeon Jungkook of GJK industries? Surely this offer has never been extended to anyone else beside himself, and the thought alone makes him feel drunker by the second. “Lead the way,” Jimin confirms with false confidence.

Jungkook breathes out a chuckle through his nose, lifting a finger to wiggle it in front of Jimin’s nose. “No questions.” Slowly, his finger inches closer to drag the pad of it down the blonde’s nose bridge until it playfully pokes the button tip. “Come,” he slurs out, dangerously close to having a double meaning. Jungkook stands to his feet, wobbling slightly as he extends his arm to Jimin with tattoos on clear display as he does so. “I ne-eed you…” The younger pauses to take a breath, gathering himself—the floaty feeling mostly foreign to him, not used to drinking often after all, “...In my studio,” he clarifies.

With Jungkook’s help, Jimin stands to his feet, wobbling to hold his balance. He grips onto the tattooed arm and glides his fingertips over the needle-poked skin, memorizing the patterns like braille. He must look like a drunken idiot but he doesn’t care. He’s far past caring and it's greatly due to the fine wine and sexual tension that, at this point, he would need to cut with a jackhammer. “You have me,” he slurs. It’s supposed to be a question, confirming that the tall man had a firm grasp on him while they shuffle to the studio, but it’s laden with double-meaning. He leaves it at that, pleased to have the younger interpret it in any way he pleases.

Jungkook’s firm grasp doesn’t falter as he guides the elder to his personal studio. It’s a large room with no windows to disturb the artificial light fixtures, placed neatly around the place. His eyes glance over stacks of printed photographs on his desk, scattered out as he was rummaging through them this morning. They’re from last night’s shoot. Every single photo, different variations of Jimin—his new favorite subject. His eyes flicker over to the framed photos on the wall by the desk, filled with his personal favorite shots of the blonde. From a candid closeup of him being surprised as he walked into the glass-mirrored room, to the shot of him dropped to his knees, skin glistening with sweat from swinging the sledgehammer.

It’s pure art. Jimin is pure art. Now, Jungkook has this gorgeous man to himself, ready to do whatever he asks for. He snaps out of his thoughts as he looks over at Jimin, wondering if he notices the photos on the walls too.

But to Jimin, all he sees is a man dedicated to his work. It strikes him differently to see the photos printed in a large format. His drunken self doesn’t even process the fact that he was the only subject matter displayed on Jungkook’s studio walls. His wide eyes transfix on the fine details of each photo as he follows them down the line. It’s proof, Jeon Jungkook is the most dedicated photographer he’s ever had the pleasure of working with. “Which is your favorite?” Jimin asks, mentally taking note to possibly replicate the same expression in their impromptu shoot. He really wants to make the moment perfect.

Jungkook hums in thought as he’s barely paying attention to the photos on the walls. Instead, his attention is tunnel-visioned on the blonde, right next to him, in the flesh. “I think tonight...will be my favorite,” he murmurs, letting go of Jimin to head over towards the spot he just knows he needs to see Jimin pose, grabbing his camera along the way. The set looks as if it was prepared in advance. A large, furry white rug is placed on the floor at the center, surrounded by copious amounts of space. Some lights are placed around it, almost like there had been a shoot there before...which wasn’t the case, technically . It was prepared with Jimin in mind, but never did Jungkook believe he’d actually have him here... this quickly. “Stand on the rug,” Jungkook instructs. His voice is clearer now, even if he’s still in a haze. He beckons the model with his slender, tattooed fingers.

Jimin does as instructed, falling into the rhythm the younger set the past couple of days during their promo shoot. He’s almost positive he knows the next step, itching to shuck off his jacket and bend to his knees, but he’s patient and waits for instruction. Jungkook’s towering, lean body makes him feel smaller than he is. He’s ready to submit—to be a good boy for the victor.

The photographer steps closer to Jimin to inspect him further, as if he doesn’t already have every single detail of the elders face ingrained in his memory. Either way, reaches out to brush the blonde fringe away from his face. “No questions, okay?” He reminds, as if he needs to give another confirmation of this before he continues. He knows that as soon as he starts, he won’t be able to stop. Then he backs a few steps before he sits down on a stool with his camera held high, turning it on with a flick. He peeks through the screen, the small wall of technology serving as a detachment from reality, only spurring his own fantasies to grow. “Undress... slowly .”

The model knew it was coming. How could he not? But the moment those words slip from the younger’s sweet cherry lips, his mind numbs. He’s working solely on instinct and pure lust-driven adrenaline. He could feel the tension engulfing his entire being from the moment he first touched Jungkook; feeling fire ignite his skin to burn . There’s not a moment of hesitance as Jimin slowly begins to slide his jacket off his arms, looking down bashfully at his body, pretending he doesn’t realize the effect it has on anyone who looks. He’s a professional after all.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his camera at the tortuous show Jimin puts on, or rather...takes off. With eyes trained on the elder through the camera, he zooms into the parts he loves the most; his lips, his neck… However, soon, he’s sure the entirety of the blonde will be his favorite part. “Shirt too.” His voice is low and smooth. “Then turn around, let me see your back.”

Jimin trips over his own feet as he turns around, which would have been embarrassing at any regular modelling event, however, he lightly laughs—so airy and innocent. He turns around so the photographer can get a good look as he very slowly lifts his shirt over his head and casts it to the floor. He leaves his Chanel necklace on as he loves the way the thin material dances along his neckline, teasing the lens with faint flashes of light off the diamonds that lay there. He begins to unbuckle his pants and looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s being watched, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Are you enjoying yourself, Jeon?” Shit —he asked another question. He really can’t help his praise kink, wondering what’s going though Jungkook’s mind as he slowly slides the pants down past his strong thighs.

The shutter of the camera going off echoes in the quiet room—the only other noises heard would be their voices and Jungkook’s breathing as it gradually grows heavier. It’s as if he’s in a trance, time and surroundings long forgotten. Everything is about Jimin and his gorgeous body slowly coming into view. A low groan catches in Jungkook’s throat at the sight of the blonde’s muscular back, wasting no time in capturing the moment on video as his focus lowers down to Jimin’s behind. “Fuck, Jimin...you’re breathtaking.” He breathes out the words in a low groan, shifting in his seat as the aching in his pants becomes less easy to ignore. Eyes are completely lost in the way Jimin’s ass looks slightly bent over while peeling the pants down his thighs.

Jungkook’s compliment fuels Jimin to move faster, but he reels in his desire, taking his time with the final articles of clothing. First, he bends deeper to untie his shoes, leaving his briefs for the final reveal. He takes one shoe off, followed by the other, then places them gently by his discarded shirt. Pants slide down completely and are kicked to the side. He turns around to face Jungkook, not realizing the flash from his camera stopped and that he was being recorded. …Not that he would mind much, he likes to be admired in any form, especially by the younger man. Jimin’s hand slowly traces down his chest and taut abs, over his clothed cock, which is now beginning to strain uncomfortably against the fabric. He glides his hand over his length torturously slow, relaxing his face, closing his eyes—completely lost in the moment.

The red light flashing on the photographer’s camera indicates that he’s still shamelessly recording—the content is nothing but the most valuable thing he will ever own. ...Except for the man himself.

“You’re driving me crazy , Jimin…” Jungkook hisses through his teeth, now holding the camera with one hand as the other unbuttons his shirt, growing hot. “You’re doing so well,” he praises and he becomes impatient with the buttons, opting to simply rip the shirt open. Buttons scatter on the floor around him, exposing the middle of his torso as he lets the shirt hang from his shoulders. Never once do his eyes leave Jimin as the camera pans out to get the full view of the blonde touching himself—every expression saved into a digital memory for him to keep.

Throwing caution to the wind, Jimin strokes deliberately, snaking his hand underneath the waistband to wrap around his shaft. “F-feels good…” he whines. He opens his eyes and stares hungrily at the sight before him—Jungkook, camera in-hand, looking a hot mess with his shirt torn open. He no longer cares about breaking rules. They’ve broken one too many rules in their partnership already, what’s another? “Want to see?” He asks, slowly peeling the fabric lower with his other hand.

 Jungkook peeks over his camera, eyes blown wide with need. The slow tease is tortuous, but he absolutely loves it. “Yes, take it off.” His eyes flicker between Jimin’s, roaming down his body until it lands on where the elders hand is hiding. Kook licks his lips in anticipation as his free hand now palms his own aching bulge, camera still held high to capture every single second of the scene in front of him. “Hurry.”

Jimin tugs the waistband low, gripping his hard cock in his hand, silver rings gliding over the sensitive skin. The briefs fall to the floor and are carelessly kicked off. It’s entrancing to see how eager Jungkook is for him, boosting Jimin’s confidence as he quickens his pace, using the dewey beads of precum to ease the glide. It wasn’t a mistake Jimin requested red wine—the rich liquid always makes him shameless and bold enough to do things he wouldn’t normally. He moans aloud, just for the photographer.

Jungkook’s bottom lip is clamped between his teeth with heavy breaths forcing their way through his nose. His chest heaves up and down slowly. The sounds coming from Jimin are sinful, and it drives the younger man closer towards madness.

How long could he go without craving his touch? The answer is simple. Not long at all.

“Baby....” The pet name naturally slips through Kook's teeth as his tattooed hand squeezes the prominent outline of his length, drawing out a low moan of his own. “Come here,” he nudges with his chin towards the open space on the floor between his manspread, eyes burning with need for the blonde.

No questions asked, right?

Never one to argue with the creative flow of a visionary, Jimin dutifully sits on his knees, resting his smaller frame between Jungkook’s parted thighs. He leans forward and presses his pout against the hardworking tattooed hand, flicking his tongue out to trace circles along the ink. “Yes, sir,” he muffles, lapping hot open-mouthed kisses down the hand until he snakes a finger between his thick lips. He wants Jungkook to know exactly what he can have—no questions asked.

A series of breathy curses slip through Jungkook’s lips as he stares down at Jimin, aiming his camera for a good closeup of the man’s lips, eyes sparkling with mischief. He leans back just a bit to get a better view, replacing the finger teasing between Jimin’s lips with his thumb and resting the rest of the fingers underneath his chin. “Your lips are so pretty,” he praises, swiping the pad of his thumb across Jimin’s upper lip—the pout being one of his favorite features.

“Thank you, sir,” Jimin whispers before sliding the thumb into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. He wets the digit well and pulls back, releasing it with a pop. He stares up at the man with wide lustful eyes, looking directly into the camera lens. “Please…,” he pauses, nipping his lip, “Please let me suck your cock, sir. I want to taste you.”

Jungkook feels like his breath is constantly forced out of his lungs everytime Jimin opens his mouth...he’s that fucking entranced by the man. Whatever he did to end up in this very moment, he’s grateful. The grip around his camera is tightening, internally swearing that if he were to squeeze it any tighter, it would threaten to burst in his hand. He slightly shakes at the tension built up in his body. “Go on, then. Take it out.” His lips curled up in a small smile, withdrawing his hand to let it settle on his thigh as he waits for the blonde to get to work. “It’s all yours.”

Jimin nearly drools at the sight before him, ignoring the ache in his own lap for Jungkook’s permission to touch. Now fully hard, every inch of the younger man is visible through the thin fabric of his underwear. The model firmly digs his shaking fingers under Jungkook’s waistband at both sides and tugs down until the length springs free, standing tall against his abdomen. There really are no words Jimin can use to articulate his excitement, so he shows it with his hands and skillful mouth. He delicately wraps his hand around Jungkook’s fat cock and strokes him just as he would himself, working him up and down gradually. He flattens his tongue against the underside and draws it up painfully slow, holding his eyes on the lens the whole time. Old habits die hard—he can’t help but be a bit of a tease even when he suffers just as much.

“Ah, fuck…” Jungkook’s thigh muscles tense. Automatically, his body reacts with greed before he’s able to control his impulses, hips twitching upwards to chase for friction. “Don’t tease,” he says with a stern tone, letting his free hand tangle in Jimin’s blonde curls. He tugs lightly to bring him closer towards his length, hoping to draw out some whines in the process.

“Mm…Y-yes, sir,” Jimin breathes, wrapping his lips around Jungkook’s large reddened tip. The sting in his roots from the younger’s grip tingles throughout his entire body. To be controlled by this man in a professional setting is exhilarating all on it’s own, but in this context…it feels electrifying . He wants to worship this man on his knees for all eternity, fighting to swallow around his punishing length.

‘yes, sir’ —the two words Jungkook never knew he wanted to continuously hear tumble from Jimin’s lips over and over until now. It makes him feel powerful, and he is... He’s one of the most powerful men in the industry, and he can have anything he wants by the simple wave of his hand, but this ... It beats every piece of wealth he could ever possess. His control over the man who had willingly dropped to his knees to please...now that was priceless. “What a good boy..” Jungkook purrs, inching the camera lens closer to Jimin’s face. The focus for this shot will be the way his length sinks deeper into the elders mouth at the photographer’s demand, in the form of a hand pushing the back of his neck. “‘Let’s see how much you can take.”

Jimin glows under the praise. He feels even needier by the sounds he was drawing from above, driven to make Jungkook fill his large house with only the sounds of pleasure he was administering. He braces himself clumsily on Jungkook’s inner thigh for leverage as his mouth begins to get fucked into. On queue, Jimin hallows his cheeks for a tight suction as he quickens his pace, making the younger grip his hair even harder, guiding his head exactly where he wants it.

Beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook’s temples, trickling down as he’s practically taking control; the grip on the blonde’s curls tighten further. “So good…” Jungkook drops the camera to the floor with a loud thud, with no regard to whether it would break or not. He wants to indulge in the reality of the situation, letting both his hands control Jimin’s head as hips fuck his cock down his throat. Jungkook throws his head back, lips parting in heavy breaths and moans that constantly slip through them. With every groan, the adam's apple underneath his clammy skin bobs. “Shit, you’re everything …”

Jimin focuses on shallow breaths, uncontrollably swallowing around Jungkook’s cock as it slides past his gag reflex. Without the camera to perform to, Jimin’s glazed eyes stare up, directly at Jungkook. Just seeing his sweat-dampened skin, his parted lips, and hearing the erotic sounds that escape them is enough to let Jimin know just how close he’s getting. Jimin fumbles to wrap his hand around his own length, struggling to resist any longer.

Indulging in the moment for as long as humanly possible, Jungkook continuously thrusts into Jimin’s mouth until he feels the familiar heat pooling in his lower abdomen. The muscles in his thighs tense up with every slick stroke against the blonde’s tongue. “I’m g-gonna cum soon…” He stutters out his breathy words, head bending forward to get a good look of Jimin desperately trying to please him. The grip in the model’s hair loosens slightly to let him work on his own length. “Keep going,’’ Jungkook says as he reaches for the fallen camera on the floor. Video is still recording as he guides the lens back to focus on Jimin’s pouty lips and glazed eyes. “A little more… Use your hands, wanna cum on your face…”

Those last words make Jimin jump in his skin, swirling his tongue around Jungkook sloppily with wet smacks and stroking himself faster in tandem. It has to be perfect—every fibre of his being sings to please the young photographer and give the performance of a lifetime. His own skin beads with sweat as he works himself up to finish, even harder at the promise of feeling Jungkook’s hot cum on his face.

The crease between Jungkook’s eyebrows become more and more prominent with every passing second, watching Jimin through his camera lens once again, feeding his obsession further. His hips start to tense and jut upwards for even more friction. “Wait, wait, f-fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He hisses out, not giving Jimin much time to make a show out of it. Instead the younger presses his hand against Jimin’s neck to force him further down on his knees, allowing his cock to pop out of his mouth. He quickly grabs a hold of his length and strokes himself right in front of Jimin’s face, letting the tip graze the soft, damp pout. A loud, drawn out moan follows the moment Jungkook cums. His hand shakily records his next piece of art; Jimin’s face covered in himself.

The model closes his eyes as he feels the first pat of cum hit his lips. Out of instinct, his tongue darts out to lick it away; salt and musk coating his taste buds. More spurts tap his face and gleam under the studio lights, making the beauty even more picturesque, painted just for Jungkook. “Mm…thank you,” he breathes, voice breaking into a whimper. He opens his eyes, face shining in the younger’s release, wanting to give him the best shot possible. However, Jimin never stops touching himself and begins to break. “F-fuck—“ A strangled moan catches in his tender throat as his hand continues to work steadily. He looks up at Jungkook with stars in his eyes and damp lips parted, begging for his own release. “ Please , sir…wanna cum too.” He edges himself, barely touching his hard cock until he receives permission from the victor. “…m-may I, please?”

Jungkook quickly gathers himself, sobered from his release, which only made this so much better. He’s able to properly focus on the man, on his knees beneath him. He gently gives his own length a slow stroke, quietly exhaling from the oversensitivity. “You may, you’ve been nothing but a good boy,” he coos, suddenly standing from his seat and pulling his pants back up. He pushes the stool aside before dropping to his knees in front of Jimin, getting a perfect view of the wrecked mess—a blonde angel. “Cum on the floor,” he instructs, focusing the camera lens on the way Jimin’s face distorts with pleasure.

Jimin nods dutifully and bites his lip in response to the praise. He relinquishes all power to the younger man; drunk and so incredibly weak from pent-up lust. With Jungkook’s permission and explicit instructions, Jimin leans forward and braces his palm on the floor while the other picks up the pace. He barely has to touch himself, he’s already so close to breaking. A string of curses escape his throat as he doubles over and breathes heavily, moaning aloud and stroking himself until he shakes. “C-cumming… fuck ..” His muscles spasm and contract—cum pooling on the floor beneath him. He sits back on his heels and looks up at Jungkook, exhausted and damp with sweat, cock twitching in his palm.

“ Wow …” Jungkook stares in awe, the same way he’d look at Jimin during their photoshoots. It doesn’t matter what state the blonde is in; he could be put together and styled to perfection, or a fucked out, sweaty mess beneath him with a face glistening in cum. It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s perfection .  “You’re incredible…” the photographer breathes out as he pans the zoom, getting a full image of the scene on his recording. Jungkook reaches out to swipe his thumb across the elders cheek and gathers some of his cum before bringing it to Jimin’s lips, urging him to lick his finger clean. “Look at the mess you’ve made on my floor…” he says coyly, as if he wasn’t the one who instructed Jimin to do so, “Clean it up, will you? With your tongue.”

Jimin’s dextrous tongue snakes around Jungkook’s thumb, sucking it into his mouth sweetly before releasing it, completely cleaned of the sticky mess. The next request was past a boundary Jimin hadn’t pushed, but felt so eager to cross. He had a hunch the younger man was kinky behind closed doors, but he didn’t expect his mind to be pure filth. He loves discovering more about him. “Yes, Sir,” he nods again and levels himself to the floor on hands and knees, bent over like an obedient dog. He laps a rope of his own release onto his flattened tongue, pulling it up to allow Jungkook to record it going into his mouth, slowly, closing his eyes. Moans and wet laps fill the silence until the floor is sparkling clean, without a trace of his warm cum. He wonders what else he has yet to discover about the man that is perhaps even more sinister and degrading than what took place tonight in his mansion. “All clean.”

Jungkook is lost in his own world through the lens, making sure he captures everything in an angle that he knows will drive him absolutely mad later, as he will likely replay the content over and over. He hums in approval as he reaches out to grasp Jimin’s jaw between his fingers, squeezing his cheeks to amplify the pout of those plushy lips. “Good boy.” He praises, finally turning the camera off and placing it on the floor to give his full attention. “There’s one more thing that I want before we’re done for today,” he murmurs, slowly inching closer to the angel, “want to kiss you.”

“Mm,” Jimin hums at the mere idea of Jungkook tasting him on his lips. “Kiss me,” he permits, melting into his touch, leaning forward to close the distance himself. It’s timid and slow, almost more intimate than sucking his cock. Jimin parts his lips to take him in deeper, needing to be closer, letting Jungkook guide the way. His mind is swimming, still drunk and coming down from his euphoric state. It feels like the perfect wrap-up after a tiring shoot. Yet, it feels much more than a reward for a job well-done. Perhaps it’s the glimmer of childlike innocence in Jungkook’s eyes that make Jimin’s heart pool in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he needs this more than he thought he would. He has all the attention he could ever want in the world of fashion, but he hasn’t felt this appreciated in a long time.

Jungkook’s hand moves to gently cup the elders cheek, drawing him closer into the kiss as he lets his lips slowly explore the other male’s. A little cautious at first, but quickly, he starts to move more naturally against Jimin’s lips, already growing addicted to the feeling. They’re silky smooth, plump, like a kiss from an angel itself. Fuck… Jungkook is whipped. “Would you like a bath before bed?” He casually asks; the domestic feel of his words are completely unfitting for the situation, yet...not. He leans in for another chaste kiss, unable to keep himself away for too long now that he’d gotten a taste.

“Before…bed…” Jimin’s words trail quietly as he didn't expect to be staying much longer, let alone overnight. Hell, he didn’t expect a lot of things to happen past his fumbling attempt to beat the younger man at his own game—Overwatch. Even then, he should attribute most of what happened to his poor handling of a controller. He could only imagine what would have happened if he accepted the offer of sugary banana milk in place of red wine. “O-kay,” he solidifies, stumbling over his words, suddenly shy under the kindness being bestowed upon him. He seals his answer with a kiss, full lips lingering on the other man’s and breathing in the intoxicating scent of cologne and natural musk. He’s in no shape to go home anyhow. The relaxing offer of a bath felt so good after the day he had.

Jungkook pulls back from the kiss to get up on his feet, effortlessly lifting Jimin within the same motion as he snakes his arm around the elder’s hip. Without a word, he guides the two of them towards the grand bathroom upstairs, paying no mind towards the maid throwing small glances from the hallway where she’s cleaning. She’s never seen the young Jeon Jungkook bring such company to his home before, so the obvious look of surprise was hard to miss. A s the door closes behind them, the younger man prepares to fill up the bathtub with hot water. He pours in some bubbles with a mild fresh scent– because, well, he loves bubbles. His childlike bunny smile widens as he turns around. “Get in, I’ll wash you.”

Jimin gives him a small smile in response and steps into the warm water. It envelops him as he slides in, soothing and fragrant like Jungkook’s long fluffy hair. It’s a calming scent that Jimin now associates with the photographer, reminding him of the studio couch where they first sat close.  Jimin is small in the lavish tub—it’s almost comical how the large bubbles nearly reach his chin. He’s still sobering but already feels much less drunk cradled in the calming water. But one important element is missing— “You wanted to wash me, Jeon?” Jimin tongues his red plushy lip and nods for Jungkook to join him in the tub. “Plenty of room for us both…”

Jungkook nods eagerly as he gets rid of the clothes covering his body, throwing them off to the side before stepping inside the tub to sink down behind Jimin. The bubbles rise with the added body into the water. “See it as a reward for being so good to me.” He praises, reaching out for the shampoo bottle to squirt a generous amount into his hand. He inhales the scent. It’s his favorite, and now the blonde would smell like it too. It’s almost as if he’s marking the elder once more in small ways. He gently starts to massage the shampoo into Jimin’s scalp, taking his time to cover every inch of the gorgeous locks. Jungkook loves to touch him, he can’t get enough.

The blonde’s eyes flutter shut, “Mm feels so good…thank you.” He leans back into Jungkook’s chest, allowing each of his muscles to go slack as the pleasurable sensation of fingers running through his hair puts him at ease. This is all very, very new to Jimin, but he’s quickly getting used to it. The slow and rhythmic motion gives him time to reflect on the day. “Do you think the show went well without me?” Jimin speaks openly, eyes still closed. Today’s event was just another critical component of his project and can’t help worrying that he may have jeopardized it by leaving early. Deep down, especially in this moment with Jungkook’s lean body pressing against his back, it’s hard to have regrets.

“You showed up, that’s all you needed to do,” Jungkook reassures with a soothing voice. His long fingers comb through the blonde curls until there’s a decent amount of lather builds up. When he deems it enough, he leans back further and pushes Jimin down gently. “Sink down further please, let me wash this off…”

Jimin slides his slick and soapy body further down into the water and cradles his head in the curve of Jungkook’s chest. At this angle, all he has to do is open his eyes to watch adoringly as the younger man combs his hands through his hair. He’s so relaxed at this point, accepting every bit of care with a contented sigh. Jimin smiles meekly, “How are you so good at this? Plenty of practice, I assume?”

The younger cups water into his hand as he washed off the suds, gently running his fingers through Jimin’s hair in the process. He smiles, nose scrunching up as he shakes his head. “No, it’s a first for me. I’ve seen it in movies, though,” he admits as the grin on his lips widens in light embarrassment. He finishes rinsing the blonde’s hair clean, then snakes his arms around his torso to pull him closer against his own. The intimacy is just as good, if not better, then the things that went down earlier.

“You’re a natural,” Jimin compliments, resting against his chest fully, “and so comfortable.” He turns his head to look up at Jungkook and admire the glowing sheen of sweat that tickles down his strong neck, over his collarbones. God, he really is beautiful. Jimin can’t wait to tailor a suit for the man, making good on his promise earlier. Every angle of his body deserves to be hugged tight.  As the hot bath water cools, Jimin begins to feel very sleepy—the long day finally catching up. Trailing shortly behind, Jungkook also began to feel sleepiness creep up on him. However, he still gives himself a few minutes of comfortable silence to simply enjoy feeling Jimin skin to skin. “Hm..” He hums in content, eyes drinking in the pretty boy beneath him, “Alright… Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow’s a long day.” Jungkook gets up to his feet with water trickling down his body, then reaches down to help Jimin up as well. He steps out of the tub and grabs two bathrobes, handing one to the elder to get warm, then guides him to his room.

Just as Jimin settles into the bathrobe, thinking it’s the cosiest thing he had ever slipped his naked body into, he sits on Jungkook’s large bed and discovers it’s even cosier.  Luxe sheets, with a thread count over 500. It isn’t something the model has dabbled in; impressing that the younger man has a taste for such things. He notes that any article of clothing made for him must be of the highest quality—no exceptions. Positively high on cloud nine, Jimin settles deeper into the bed and wonders where Jungkook ran off to. No doubt tipping the maid to keep quiet.

Jungkook returned to his studio to pick the camera off the floor. He brings it with him as he inspects the content, shameless of the sounds of Jimin’s moans and his own praises echoing, mindlessly going to the kitchen to grab himself a trusted banana milk before bed. His eyes sparkle at the video. The touch of the elder is still fresh. Hell, he’s literally upstairs in his bed. Slowly, he saunters back towards the bedroom with a camera in hand and a banana milk straw in his mouth. His gaze lifts to see his maid stand in the hallway, trying her best to seem unfazed by the lewd sounds coming from his device. “Isn’t his voice just sweeter than any other?” Jungkook smirks at the maids reaction. Obviously nodding out of respect. “Yeah… I want to keep him,” he mutters, “Make sure there’s breakfast ready in the morning.” He pays the maid no more attention before stepping inside his bedroom with the camera turned off. He places it on the nightstand along with the empty milk container, slipping out of his robe to slide under the covers next to Jimin and immediately wrapping his strong arms around him to hold close. “Missed me?’‘

“Mhm...” Jimin’s voice tapers, already partially asleep. “Missed me , Jeon?” He pushes his ass into the curve of Jungkook’s hips and feels the heat of his groin radiating into his bare flesh. His cocky confident attitude slowly returning as the alcohol burns from his system. Yet, he’s too restless to push any further. It feels good to be a bit of a tease right before bed, but he has his limits. “I’ll dream about you...,” Jimin mumbles into the pillow, muscles relaxing and eyes falling shut, “...Sir.”

Jungkook presses his nose to Jimin’s blonde curls and inhales the scent, which is now a mix between natural musk and his own shampoo. “Sleep well, butterfly,” he whispers, hugging Jimin tight as he too feels his body ache for sleep.

After a while of just...enjoying the moment, sleep finally finds Jungkook as well.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[jobrookekarev]

Happiness

T.S. x Jolex Week 2021 hosted by @thejolexgroupchat​

Chapter One of One

Words: 7706

Summary:  A year after their divorce, Jo sends him a letter and a tiny box. She tells him all about how her life has changed, the new career she chose, and the baby she adopted, but there was one last thing she had to tell him.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Luna Ashton Wilson, and Meredith Grey.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Additional Tags: Angst, Taylor Swift, Miscarriage, Letters, Babies , Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: I do not own any of Taylor Swift’s music or the lyrics to Happiness.

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Dear Alex,

The moment he read those words, written in Jo's beautiful and perfect cursive handwriting, he braced himself for the heartbreak that was about to come. He wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the mailbox that afternoon and found the letter from her with the divorce papers. He wondered if she would write him back or if she would call and leave another voicemail. Hell, he half expected her to show up on his doorstep and herself, with the furious anger that he knew so well. But he couldn't deny that he loves the chance to read her words.

Loves. Loved. Past tense, present tense, or it was still hard not to think of her with anything but love. Her love used to carry him around with light footsteps, a happy heart, and a warm belonging in his chest. Now he carried it around like a tattoo, the black ink bleeding across his skin. Her love and her words burned into him like the heavy mark she left upon him.

He knew he deserved every heartbreaking word she had written in this letter, and he dreaded every word but eagerly read her letter.

The last thing I ever thought you would do is leave me. You and I, we've been through hell and back. I was there when you almost threw away your life and your career, and although we weren't together during those few months. I never stopped loving you, not once. It was you who made things right, who proved to me that I could trust you and that you had changed, and I did trust you, Alex. I trusted you with all of my heart. I trusted you not to break my heart again and even as I read the words in your letter, I still couldn't quite believe it. I still can't believe that after everything, you would betray me like that.

It's been a year now and I think I have finally accepted that you're gone. That you're not going to just walk back into my life one day. That you're not going to show up on my doorstep one day. Getting your letter broke the fairytale life that we had together. I felt like the music stopped, and I was still standing there waiting for you to come back. Until the moment I got your letter, I was waiting for you to come back to me because you always did. You always came back to me, except this time you didn't, and I know that you won't come back again. 

It still doesn't feel like it's okay because you were my life for six years. I’ve known you since I came to Seattle. For the entire time I’ve been at Grey-Slone, you’ve always been with me, and the hospital still doesn't feel like home without you, but it's starting to be, and I'm learning to live without you. My entire life revolved around you. Everything I had was because of you, and life without you was like an uphill battle, but I did it. In the past year, I have changed so much, and you would be so proud of me. You haven't met the new me yet, but I think you would like her.

Now that I'm above it all, I see it for what it is, but a year ago, I couldn't. I was still in the middle of it all and I was still so full of hurt. I gave you the best years of my life, and then I packed you away in a box and shipped you off to someone else. All of the things that we had collected over the years, from the very first thing I bought you, the couch, to the box of bandages you bought today before you left, and now it's all just shit that we’re dividing up. Sometimes I feel like I should have fought for you, like I should have gone to Kansas and demanded to stay with you, but I didn't. I couldn’t. I was...

She had written something else there but had erased it and written something else. He wasn't sure how, but somehow he knew there was more to the reason why she didn't come to Kansas for him. He hoped that it would be revealed as he read on.

I don't know if it's fair to say, but I would have loved you for a lifetime. I did love you for our entire life together, and I don't know if I should say this, but I will love you for the rest of my life. You’re it, Alex. You’re my one and only. I would have left it all behind to go with you to Kansas to be a part of your kid's life. We could have been together and we would be happy. 

I was so happy with you, happier than I've ever been in my entire life. There was happiness because of you, but I know that I'll be happy again because I am happy, Alex. After you left, I chased happiness, and I found it. In the most unexpected ways, but I'm happy, and I hope you are too. 

So as much as I hate you for leaving me, I understand why you left. Of course, your kids come before me. They should, as much as it breaks my heart, but I'm also still so confused and angry because I would have done this with you. I would have co-parented with you and Izzy, and I would have made one hell of a stepmom. I would have loved your kids, Alex because they are part of you, and I loved everything about you. 

You said you weren't going anywhere except home with me, and then you said you weren't coming home. You said you would never hurt me and then you did. You said you love me and then you said you love someone else. You said you wanted to be my husband and that you wanted me to be your wife and then you sent divorce papers. You said not to let anyone treat me like trash and then you threw me away. You said you loved me, and I believe you, but you still left.

Now that a year has passed, I see the mistakes that you've made, and it still hurts. I still can't sleep on your side of the bed, but when I do, it is both a comfort and a sadness because you’re not here to comfort me yourself. I gave you the best years of my life. I wrapped my arms around you every single night, and I pulled your body into mine, and I still don't understand how you left my arms and my body and our bed. I don't think I ever will. You asked me to find better than you, but I don’t want to find better. There is no better. You were the best man I’ve ever known.

I know you still love me when you say you love her. I hope you're happy loving her, knowing you'll never have me again. I know that she's beautiful, Izzie, and I hope that she is enough of a fool to believe it when you say that you love her. I know I did.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I guess I'm still angry at her and at you. I don't think that anger will ever go away. Yet, as much as I hate you for leaving, I can't stop loving you. I guess that's what I get for loving you for six years. Just because I love you doesn't mean I want you back. I want to make that very clear to you, Alex, this letter isn't me asking you to come back.

She had pressed in with the pencil so hard that it looks like she had nearly broken through the page at one part. As much as he knew she meant what she said, that she didn't want him to come back, he knew her well enough to know that she was forcing herself to write it. Deep down, she didn't really mean it, but he would respect her enough not to go back, no matter what the rest of her letter said. He still had several pages to go, and if the rest of her letter was as heartbreaking as this page was, he knew he deserved it, but that didn't make reading it any easier. 

I always knew how to leave bad guys because that's what I’d known before you, but you're not a bad guy Alex. You're a good man, but no one teaches you what to do when a good man leaves you. 

You taught me so much, you taught me what real love was like. You taught me that I was worthy of that love. You taught me what a good man looked like. You taught me how to fight for myself and for others. For so long, I fought for us, and you did too, every break-up, every fight, you and I would come back to each other. You used to say that we were like two magnets always getting pulled together. You taught me cool tumor in a bag surgeries and how to talk to kids about guts. You are the reason why I wanted kids. You were part of the reason why I wanted her.  

I think that the reason I fell in love with her and why I fought so hard for her, you said I would find something to do with your shares in the hospital, and I did, but not in the way I'm sure you thought I would. I was never good with leadership or anything. I hated being chief resident, you know that. That's kind of what I like about OB because it's not about what I want or what I need to do sometimes. It’s about my patient, it's about their birth and their child. I'm just the person that helps them bring their child safely into the world. 

Sorry I kind of rambled off there, but anyway, I sold the shares of the hospital to Tom Koracick, which I feel like I should tell you about, considering I know you don’t like him. Bailey likes him even less. I was kind of terrified to tell her, so I just let Tom tell her. Anyway, I'm rich now, I guess, which is so weird, and I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I still find myself checking my account balance and freaking out when I see the number of 0. I haven't gone totally crazy. It's still sinking, but yesterday I did buy this fancy stereo, so I guess I'm sort of getting used to it. I still find myself eating boxed mac and cheese. I don't think I'll ever give up that habit, as I'm sure you know that. Growing up the way that we did, no matter what, we'll never get used to being financially stable, much less rich.

I guess that brings me to my next point. I switched careers. Not to pediatrics before you get all proud or anything, you were always trying to convince me to join you and the Ped’s squad. I switched it to OB/GYN. I am part of the vagina squad now, pink scrubs and everything. Although I kind of like the pink, I still kept my blue scrub cap though. 

I don't know what it is this past year, but everything I've done has just been baby related. Maybe it was my hormones, maybe it was fate, but I just, it felt right, and I love it. You and me were trying for the baby, and when I got pulled into the delivery room one night at the hospital, the amount of joy in that room was overwhelming. We were in the middle of the pandemic, but these parents were so happy because their baby had been born. They welcomed them into the world with such love. I've kind of been chasing that love ever since you left, and I found that love and that happiness again in more ways than one. 

I'm sorry I'm rambling so much. Even after a year, it's still hard to sort through all of my thoughts. The main reason why I wrote this to you was that I wanted to share some of the changes in my life because even now, after the things you've done, you’re still changing my life.

Starting off, I moved out of the Loft, if you can believe it. Well first, I move someone in. After you left, it felt too big and empty without you. So I did something crazy and I invited Levi to stay with me. He was my roommate for a year and he's been my friend. I still own the Loft, but he and now Helm too, rent it from me, and I've completely moved out. I am now the owner of a top floor penthouse! It’s Jackson’s penthouse actually, he left to run the foundation in Boston and sold it to me. I'm actually writing this on the floor of my new place because I don't have much furniture. Despite the fact that I've been here a month. It’s just the bed, the couch, and a crib.

A crib. 

There was a crib in Jo's new home. A crib meant a baby. A baby meant that Jo was a mother and the possibility that he was a father again. The initial shock caused him to pause before he read to the next line. His heart raced, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of them having a child. It was everything he ever wanted with Jo. It was why he had deliberately waited several weeks to send his letter on the off chance that she might be pregnant. That she would have something, anything, that would bring him back to her. Maybe that made him an asshole or coward for only wanting to return to her if they had a baby together. As selfish as that was, he couldn't leave his children without good reason. Although his hopes were dashed with her next few lines.

I suppose I should explain that to you. Although I know you don't deserve to know about my daughter or the family we have together, I want to share with you anyway. I have a daughter, her name is Luna Valerie Wilson. I adopted her and that adoption was finalized last month. Today marks the first month that we've been a family. It feels like  I was just bringing her home from the hospital yesterday, but being the mom of a baby doesn't really leave me much time to get anything done. Like I said, I still haven't finished furnishing this place, but I’m getting around to it, and at least the nursery is done!

I guess I should tell you how Luna came into my life. I’ve known Luna her entire life. Her mother, Val, was my patient, and unfortunately, she died. She came into the ER with stomach pain, and her labs came back saying she was pregnant, but we couldn’t find the baby in her uterus because Luna was on her liver. I call her my little liver baby and my little moon. So we delivered Luna, but Val’s liver was bleeding, and I had to remove part of it. She deteriorated until she eventually died.

Val loved Luna so much and she never even got to hold her. She wanted Luna so much, she named her before she was born with the name she had picked out since she was a young girl. All she wanted was to hold Luna, but she was in liver failure, and neither she nor Luna were stable enough to meet, but I couldn’t bear to keep them apart. If you were here, I know I wouldn’t even have to ask, but you weren’t. I finally convinced the new Ped’s guy, Hayes, to let me bring Luna to see her. Hayes is pretty nice though and I think you would have liked him. I'm sure Meredith talks about him to you. I'm not sure what's going on between those two, but he makes her happy. 

Anyway, Luna needed surgery for a bronchogenic cyst, so I suggested we make an extra stop. We made it to the hallway of Val’s room before she coded. I ran the code for an hour. That was my worst death in the pandemic and I didn't even lose her to covid. That night after she got out of surgery, I held Luna’s hand for the first time.

Something about the whole situation just grabbed a hold of my heart and wouldn't let go. I didn't even realize it. I fought so hard for Luna and her mother to be together that when she died, I didn't know what else to do except to keep caring for her baby. I never even considered adopting Luna until Link brought it up. We were talking about Scout and he mentioned how good it felt to be a parent. I laughed it off because I didn't think I could even consider it. It wasn't until Luna almost died that I realized it. She aspirated after a feeding, and Hayes paged me and I, I was a complete mess. I just stood there watching her. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move until they got her back. When they did, I realized that I wanted to be her mom more than anything.   

Why I ended up selling the shares and used some of the money to adopt Luna. I applied to adopt her first, but I was denied because of my history. I’m sure you can guess why. After I was denied the adoption, I was devastated. That year it felt like I lost everything, I lost my mom, I lost my mental stability, the whole fucken world went to shit, I lost you, I lost Luna, I lost the only thing that I never wanted. I lost… 

There it was again, that line that trailed off, the eraser on the page, lines rewritten with something she didn't want to say. There were still a few pages left, but there was something she wasn't telling him, something she had been erasing. Things she would say and things she wouldn't. Despite that, Alex knew that she would tell him eventually, she always did. Even if it was years later, Jo was like an onion in that way sometimes. 

He first thought of it when they were making dinner one night, although she had thrown the onion at him when he called her that. But it was the best metaphor he could think of. She had a thousand layers of history, each layer was sadder than the one before. Her history was filled with enough sadness to make anybody cry. Still, he loved her onion heart because, despite all of the sadness, no one else in the world made him as happy as she did. Alex took another deep breath as he carried, on knowing the sadness that awaited him. 

I decided that this time I wasn't going to let the world chew me up and spit me out without a fight. I wasn't going to lose her without fighting for her as hard as I could. So I hired a lawyer. Hence the reason why I sold the shares. She was insanely expensive, but she was worth it. It took a year, and in that time, Link was gracious enough to apply to be a foster parent for me, and with his help, and since she was still at the hospital, I could see Luna whenever I wanted. 

This week the judge reviewed my case and he gave me custody of Luna about a month ago. The past month has been a whirlwind and I've never been happier. Due to being a preemie, she’s still a little delayed, so she's not quite walking yet, but she crawls everywhere and gets into everything. Just the other day, I left a bag of chips on the couch, and when I came back from the bathroom, she had dumped it all over the couch on the floor and was playing in it like leaves in the fall. It was so adorable, I just took a picture of her and played with her for a little bit. It took forever to clean up though and I'm still getting chips out of the couch even now. 

Alex paused to laugh for a second. He loved the vision of Jo and her daughter playing in the chip. He had spent years imagining what it would be like to see Jo with her child and he was so happy to hear that was a mom now. It was all the happiness he had ever wanted for her.

I never want to give her up or let anyone else hold her for too long. Despite the fact that she’s 17-months-old, I still feel like a mom of a newborn. Meredith pointed that out to me when we were over at her house the other day. I kind of snapped at her when she wouldn't give Luna back after she started fussing. I feel like such a new mom, but I'm slowly getting used to it. I can now successfully make dinner and get Luna to fall asleep in my arms, which feels like the biggest accomplishment in the world. Sometimes I just look at her and I remember how tiny she was in the NICU. She was barely the size of my hand. I remember holding her in my arms when she barely weighed as much as a feather. She was certainly a lot lighter than all the other babies that I'm holding these days. 

Now she's so big, she pulled herself up the other day, and I know she's going to start walking any minute now. She just started talking, and she can say five whole words, and she called me mama, and I feel like my heart is going to burst every single time. She has her favorite toys, and her favorite blanket, and she's just this little tiny person. She has such a personality Alex. She reminds me of Val in that she's just so happy and calm, but she fights for what she wants, and she is insanely sassy and stubborn, which I think she gets from me. Either way, it's this knockout personality, and I can already tell that the toddler and the teenage years are going to be insane. Yet, I am so looking forward to watching her grow up and being her mom throughout all of it.

Sometimes I play with her and I wonder if you're playing with your kids too. To be honest, I didn't understand why you left me for your kids, but now I do understand. I get what it means to have kids and not want to leave them. Even now, I still have two months left on my maternity leave, but I have no idea how I'm going to leave her at daycare. I'm her mom, and I feel like I need to spend every moment with her, getting to know her because we haven't had that time together. She's been in the hospital, and I've been working, and fighting for her. Now that we have every waking second together, I still feel like it's never enough. I hold her while she naps, and she sleeps through the night. Which I know for most first-time parents is a blessing, but sometimes I just wake up in the middle of the night, and I stare at her because I miss her. I don’t want to miss another second of her life. I know you understand that. I know you understand why I could never walk away from Luna for a second, even to be with you.

I don't know how to explain it. Something about Luna just captured my heart and wouldn't let go. I just had to fight for her. I didn't want her to grow up in the system with no one fighting for her the way that we did, with no one fighting for us. I held off for so long just watching over her in the NICU, and then I almost lost her, and I knew. I just knew I wanted to be her mom. I had to fight for her, but with my history, you know I wasn't considered the best option for a foster placement, much less than adoption. But I fought for her because Luna was worth fighting for. I had to protect her. I owed that to Val, who I couldn't save, and I owed that to our baby, who I couldn't save either.

We had a baby Alex. I was pregnant when you left.

And there it was, the last layer of the onion. The last thing that Jo was waiting to say.

Alex's heart stopped at that moment. It’s then that something else slipped out of the papers of the letters. A tiny little black and white ultrasound photo with the name Jo Karev in the corner. She could have been more than ten weeks along when it was taken, and their baby was still so small. Alex could see their little legs curled up and the outline of their little head, their nose, and their mouth. It was their baby, it was their child. 

I was pregnant. I found out I was pregnant after you left. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to wait until you got home to tell you, then I got your letter, and the pandemic hit, and I just didn't know how to tell you. But I was going to tell you. I swear, I was, but I just didn't know how. 

And then I didn't have to.

I was so excited when I found out we were having a baby, Alex. The moment that stick turned pink with two tiny white lines making me a mom, I've never been happier. You and me, the three of us, we were gonna be a family. I missed you like hell, and every appointment I went to alone, all I wanted was to have you next to me. I got the first ultrasound, and I couldn't wait to tell you until you got home, but you wouldn't return my calls or my texts, and I had no idea where you were.

Then you sent me the letter.

I was so heartbroken when I lost you, but I still had hope. I thought that we could figure something out. I wanted you to be a part of our child's life. I know you would have been the best dad in the world to our baby, just like I know that you're the best dad in the world to your twins. I wanted you to know them and to love them as much as I did, and I'm sorry you never got the chance to. It all just happened so quickly. You sent me the letter, and while I was still reeling from that, the pandemic hit, and then I lost our baby.

I miscarried the day that Val died. 

I don't know what happened. I did everything right. I took all my prenatal vitamins, and I went to my appointments with Carina. I read your letter, and I carried on because I had to be strong for our child, our baby. I did everything right, but I still lost them. It was after I had visited Luna, and I held her hand for the first time right after Val died. I was in the attending’s lounge, but I felt the pain, and the blood started dripping down my thighs. It all happened so fast and there was so much blood. Apparently, I passed out, and when I came to, Carina was at my bedside. She told me my baby died and that I almost died too. I had hemorrhaged, and they had to do a D&C and pump me full of new blood. 

Meredith was at my bedside when I woke up the following day. I was kind of in and out of it those first few days. They almost called you, I guess you were still in my emergency contact at the time, but they didn’t. And I'm kind of glad they didn’t because after losing our baby. I was so angry. I blamed you, but you weren't to blame, no one was. I know that now. 

It took me a long time to process it all. I kind of just buried it all deep down. I focused on my work and on Luna, and it's only now that I'm really starting to process it. I've taken all that anger and hurt, and I buried it like I always do. It wasn't until the night that I was denied to adopt Luna that I really started to process it all. Thank God for Michelle and Carly. I think I saw them every day that week, and I'm pretty sure I have solely funded their next ten vacations. Meredith helped me too, and so did Bailey and Link. If it wasn't for our friends and family and for the love I had for Luna, I don't think I would have made it. I still have the trauma of losing our baby, and it was the reason why I didn't tell you earlier, and I'm sorry, Alex. 

Alex can see his name, written out in her handwriting, but it's smudged by a drop of water that must have been from a tear falling down her face. Tears streamed down his cheeks now as he brushed them away before they stain in the paper. Jo was pregnant, she miscarried, they lost their baby. He was forced to take a moment to remember how to breathe as he sat there and cried for the family, for the wife, and the child that he lost. 

It’s all his fault and she was right to blame him. If he had been there for her, if he had watched over her, if he was there when she started bleeding, maybe, maybe, this wouldn't have happened, but maybe it would have regardless. At least he would have been there. He could have rushed her to surgery before she passed out. He could have held her and comforted her as they grieved for their baby, but he wasn't there. Jo miscarried and almost died alone, because of his selfish choices. His kids, they needed him, they loved him, and he loved them too, but Jo needed him as well. For some reason, he thought that she didn’t need him because she was an adult. She was his wife, and even if she hadn't miscarried, he was the person who was always supposed to be in her corner, for better or for worse, that was what he promised, and he wasn't there for her. 

He left her. 

How did he do it, how did he leave her? 

As Alex sobbed, the tears streamed down his face, and he just put his hand in his arms, and he cried. He cried harder than he had ever cried in his entire life. He was thankful that he was alone in the house because he screamed and shouted and cried. He grabbed all of Izzie’s perfect pillows that she kept in the living room and threw them against the empty fireplace. He grabbed the studded animals that Alexis and Eli had been playing with before school and he threw them against the walls. He screamed and cried so much that his voice became hoarse as his throat hurt, but he didn't care. He raged and threw things and cried until he was exhausted. 

He sat on the floor against the fireplace on the cold, rough bricks. The one thing he hadn't thrown was Jo’s letter. It was still clenched in his hand, the paper was wrinkled from his fist, but he smoothed it on his knee. Her letter wasn't over yet, and he had to continue reading.

There were so many people that this past year, people I couldn’t save, but I could save Luna. I just looked at her, and I thought that maybe I could keep her safe, that I could raise her and take care of her. And I know that she doesn't replace the baby we lost. But when our baby died, I had all this love stored up, love for you and love for our baby, but Luna didn't have anyone to love her, so I did. I took all of my love and I loved her. That's part of why I fought for her because I thought that if I could look after Luna, then Val would do the same for our baby in the afterlife. We could look after and love each other's babies. 

So I did, and I love Luna so much. She is my daughter, she is my baby, and I know that with my whole heart. She is a whole new life that I love, and I've never been happier than when I was with you. She is the love and the light of my life, and she's the reason I get up in the mornings. She is everything to me as I'm sure your kids are everything to you.

There are three pictures on my shelf right now. One is the first photo I have of Luna and me together in the NICU, the second is a photo of Val that one of her friends gave me, and the third is the ultrasound photo of our baby. 

Losing them felt like losing the last part of you. After losing them, you vanished from my life completely because there was nothing left of you or our baby. There was no baby to bury, nothing to put in a casket and in the ground, and no gravestone. There was no proof that they were loved, and they were loved, Alex. I want you to know that more than anything that our baby was loved. Not very many people know about them, just Link and Meredith and a few others, but they were so excited, and they loved and took care of our baby and me. 

After I lost them, I wished that I had something to hold on to. Something that was theirs, and then I realized I did have something. I had quite a few things. I had been given a few baby gifts and things that I had bought for the baby. I took everything and sorted through it. Sorting through their things reminded me of sorting through your things, and it reminded me that I had just lost you all over again, but I still did it. Some of our baby’s things I used for Luna, but a couple of very special things I put into a little shadow box.

In it, I put one of the blue onesies that has little clouds on it that I was compelled to buy the second after I found out I was pregnant. There's the ultrasound photo from the eight week scan and one of my pregnancy tests. There’s this little grey bear that Link gave me, and Meredith gave me this little brown beaded pacifier clip that she swore was good luck and would make it, so I never lost a pacifier or something. Arizona and Callie sent me back this blue scrubs onesie that they said you made for Sophia. Even Christina sent me the little onesie that says ‘Evil Spawn’s Spawn’. Although I tucked that away in the bottom of the box. Amber sent out this pink cloud swaddle blanket that she swore would get them to sleep in 60 seconds and a pack of diapers because she knew that our kid would go through them like crazy. I used most of them for Luna, but I kept one and put it in the box. 

After you left, I still kept in touch with your mom. She’s so good to me. She said that I would always be her daughter-in-law, and she was excited to meet our baby. She sent me all of the hats that she had ever knitted for us, and she sent me this grey giant hat with tiny matching booties. I don't know why, but those booties were my favorite out of everything.

I put the hat in the box, but I carried one of the little booties around with me for the longest time. I would just carry it around in my hand, or I would just tuck it in my bra close to my heart, or just put it in my pocket. I still do that even now, that's the one piece of our baby that I don't think I'll ever let go. I sent you the matching booty in a separate package. I wanted you to have something of our baby too because they were real, Alex, and I know you would have loved them if you knew. My entire pregnancy, I whispered to them that their Daddy loved them. 

I wanted you to know that I was always going to tell you. I would have never kept your child from you, but at the time, I was still in the thick of it. The hurt from you leaving and everything else going on in the world. I just wanted to figure out what I was going to do before I had to think about what we were going to do together. I was going to tell you, and then I didn't, and then I couldn't.

I lost them a year ago, and for the first time, I felt like I could tell you about them. I suppose I could have never told you about them. I could have spared you the pain, and the heartbreak, and I'm not telling you now to hurt you or punish you, I swear. Well, maybe just a little bit, because it hurt to lose our baby alone. I wish you would have been there for me, and then other times, I'm glad you weren't. You would have apologized, and it would have been all about how you left. I just thought that you deserved to know about our baby even if I lost them like I lost you. 

So now that I've told you all that I wanted to, I don't know how to end this letter. I don't know how to end us. I guess that's something we share. I just hope that you're as happy with Izzie, Alexis, and Eli, as I am with Luna. I hope that you get the family barbecuing on the back porch, and the soccer games, and the movie nights, and the book reports. I hope you have the family you always wanted. I know that you're a good Dad, and I can almost see it. I know that you're happy and that's how I know I can end it. I also want you to know that I don’t hate you anymore, I’ve forgiven you. I’m sorry I didn't want to take your happiness with this letter. Just know that our baby was loved and I was happy to have them while I could. I hope that you have a good life and I hope you're happy Alex, I truly do.

All my love, 

Jo 

As soon as he finished Jo’s letter Alex looked up. He went over to the kitchen bar rifled through the mess for the tiny post box that Jo had sent. He didn’t want to open it until after he read her letter and he thought he should save it for last and he wasn’t sure if it would have been better to know this heartbreak beforehand. Alex sank back down to the floor leaning his back against the wall. He ripped off the tape and opened the box, delicately wrapped in tissue paper was the tiniest of baby booties. It was well knitted and soft with two tiny buttons. His mom had done a good job like she always did. As he picked it up it seemed too small in his big hands, but he could imagine his and Jo’s tiny baby wearing this booty. Jo was right, holding this booty now, their baby felt so real and the loss felt so great. Their baby would never wear this booty and he would never hold their child in his arms. 

As he held the booty and for the first time since he sat down to read Jo’s letter, Alex looked around the perfect house that he shared with his two perfect kids and Izzie, and suddenly it was all too much. Because Jo was wrong, he wasn't happy. Every day he fought with Izzie over how they should parent the twins. Every day, she reminded him that she never wanted him in their lives and that she was supposed to be their only parent. Every day Izzie reminded him that he was an unwanted presence in their lives. Things with the twins were good, and they loved having a dad, but when they were in school and Izzie was at work, he was all alone. He felt the loneliness creep in like a fog and he missed Jo now more than ever and he grieved for their lost baby.

Alex decided he couldn’t stay here any longer. He grabbed his phone and the letter while holding the booty in his hand and he took off. He got in his car and drove away. He ended up in the city because that was more familiar than the back roads of Baldwin. For some reason, he wasn't surprised when he ended up at the airport. He parked in the parking garage and just stopped for a second. 

How could he go home now? A year had passed since this had happened. Since he left, since he sent his letter, since Jo was on her own, since she lost their baby. Jo had well and truly moved on, but as he looked down at the tiny grey booty, he was still in the thick of it. 

He decided to call the one person who he could always talk to, and Meredith picked up after just a few rings. “Hey.”

“Hey Mer,” Alex said, somehow keeping his voice steady as he looked down at the letter and the booty in his hands. “I um, I got Jo's letter today.”

“I know,” Meredith said, her voice soft and gentle. “She told me she was sending it to you.”

Alex just nodded his head and licked his lips as the saltwater tears collected in his eyes. “Jo was pregnant.”

“I know.”

“We were going to have a baby.”

“I know.”

“But she, she miscarried and, and our baby, our baby died.”

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” Meredith said as he just closed his eyes, feeling the tears fall from the corner of his eyes. “I was there the day she miscarried, she cried out for you. She wanted you there, but I couldn't, I couldn't get a hold of you. Then Jo hemorrhaged and I didn’t want to leave her, by the time I was going to call you again, she, she asked me not to.” 

“She, she cried out for me?” Alex asked, finally breaking down, knowing that Jo had gone through the miscarriage all alone and that she had asked for him to be there, and he wasn't. Instead, he was in bed with another woman, with other children, and another family, and she was all alone. He left his wife, the love of his life, and their baby all alone.

“We were going to have a baby,” Alex cried, as he put his arm on the steering wheel and leaned his head forward to hide in his arm. “But she miscarried, Jo miscarried alone, because I wasn't there.”

“She wasn't alone, I was there, and Link was there. She wasn't alone.” Meredith tried to reassure him.

“But I wasn't there,” Alex stressed, picking up his head as he held the phone to his ear again. “I wasn't there for her, I'm her husband, and I wasn't there for her. She went through the worst possible thing imaginable alone. She lost our baby, and I wasn't there for her. I was off playing happy family with Izzie. Frecken Izzie, who left me the same way I left Jo. I know that pain, and I still chose to give it to her. I gave her the worst pain imaginable. I left her alone, and she miscarried, and it's all my fault.”

“Alex, this wasn't on you. Jo didn't miscarry because anything that you or she did, it just happened,” Meredith insisted, but her words didn't make him feel any better, and through his tears and his sobs, he could barely hear her. 

“I wasn’t there. I should have been there,” Alex cried, he sobbed, and he wailed, breaking down in the car as he clutched the baby booty, the soft yarn folding in his hand as the buttons pressed against his palm. “It's been a year but, but I still love her. I never should have left her, Meredith. It was the worst mistake I've ever made in my entire life. I left her, I left our baby, I left our family. I left and our baby died and Jo was alone. I should have been there.”

Alex cried, he cried for his wife, he cried for their baby, and he cried for his stupid mistakes. The tears trailed down his cheek and it felt like they would never stop. He openly sobbed much more than he had ever cried in his entire adult life. Big ugly tears filled with saltwater that stung his eyes and snot dripped down his nose as he wiped it away on the cuff of his shirt. He just cried. He couldn't seem to do anything other than that. 

He just cried.

AN: You can come kill me now, but if you do I can't post traitor tomorrow.

[maybxnks]

panicked - kiaraxreader

summary: y/n and kie hash out feelings that they should’ve years ago.

pairing: kiaraxreader

warnings: underage drinking, smoking, cussing, some angst and fluff sorta, mentions of sex

a/n: hello. this is the first time i’ve ever written anything on here so please go easy on me. also it’s 4am so if there’s mistakes i apologize. i’ll probably rewrite this at some point but anyways enjoy!! 

give kie a girlfriend!!!!!!!!!!!!!

____________________________________________________

You weren’t sure how you spotted her through the crowded area of Kooks, Pogues and tourists that littered the beach, but you did. And you wanted to fucking cry. You haven’t seen her since she ran out of your life almost two years ago. 

She looked good, hell she always looked good. She was always effortlessly beautiful and you still weren’t sure how she even gave you the time of day. The orange hues from the fire she was sitting at was making her face glow, just like it used to when the morning sun cast over her when she was sleeping in your bed. And her untamed, curly, dark hair was softly blowing from the wind that the waves caused. 

She was sitting with a group of five, two of them being the infamous Sarah Cameron and John Booker Routledge. The two lovers went missing at sea a year ago and just recently returned to The Outer Banks. To say the whole island was in shock would be an understatement. No one had heard a word from them the entire time they were gone and they just showed up like nothing had happened, like everyone didn’t think they were dead.

“Y/N! Are you ok?” Your best friend asked.

“Hmm? Yeah. Sorry just lost in my own thoughts.” You responded peeling your eyes away from the girl you once used to love. 

She studied you for a moment not really believing you. She had been watching you stare at the girl for a while but decided it was best not to bring it up. “Come on, let’s go dance.” she said grabbing your hand that wasn’t holding the plastic red cup full of cheap beer. 

Letting her pull you away from your spot near the keg you stole one more longing glance.

You weren’t sure how long you two had been dancing but you knew you needed another beer seeing as how your cup was now empty. 

“I’ll be back, need a refill.” You said holding up the cup shaking it slightly. 

The girl just waved you off since she had now gained the attention of a random tourist. 

Laughing you turned and started to tread back to the keg. The table now occupied by John B, Sarah, Kie and a blonde and dark skinned boy you didn’t know the names of. You were hoping not to have to run into her the rest of the night but God seemed to hate you.

Sighing you walked up and had put on your best smile, praying no one noticed how uncomfortable you were. 

“Hi Y/N! Need a refill?” John B. asked.

“Yes please.” You smiled at him sending a small wave to Sarah who gladly returned it. 

“So the Bahamas huh?” You joked, trying to start up a conversation with the modern day Romeo and Juliet. Minus the dying part obviously. 

Unknowing to you Kiara had tensed as soon as she heard your name. The girl had noticed you earlier when the group had arrived. You were smiling and laughing with a girl she didn’t know and her heart ached. She wanted to go over and talk to you but she knew you didn’t want to see her. Not that she blamed you, she had left without any explanation and refused to answer your many texts and calls.

Pope and JJ had noticed the girls mood change. JJ had put a hand on her arm gaining her attention. “Yo Kie you okay?” He asked. 

“Mhmm.” The girl hummed trying to hide her face in her beer bottle. JJ and Pope though didn’t believe that. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” JJ joked trying to ease her now weird mood.

“Yep.” Kie replied, trying to listen in on the conversation happening right behind her in hopes of hearing your laugh.

“Whatever you say.” JJ said turning to the other three that were deep in conversation. 

Kie took another huge gulp from her beer, trying to gain the confidence to turn around and actually face you.

When her beer was gone she had finally turned around to see you and JJ introducing yourselves. JJ not so discreetly hitting on you, instantly putting her in a sour mood. Rolling her eyes with a huff Kiara walked over and threw her arm around the blonde boys shoulders.

“JJ, stop hitting on every girl you see. The girl clearly ins’t interested.” She said finally looking at you in the eyes for the first times in years.

Raising your brows with an amused look on your face. “Who said that?” You questioned turning from the blondes face to hers.

You were pissed, but you were trying not to show it. How dare she walk over here and act like nothing happened between you two, like she didn’t even know your name. 

Fine, she wanted to play that game then you could too. 

Rolling her eyes again she threw her arm off JJ and crossed them over her chest. “I did.” 

Keeping eye contact with her you raised the cup to your mouth to mask the slight smirk on your face. 

“Still got that dolphin tattoo?” You asked innocently. The group of friends all raised their eyebrows, confused on how you knew about her secret tattoo.

“Oh, fuck you.” She spat, bawling her hands into fists letting them fall to her sides.

“Hmm, I’ll take that as a yes.” You hummed. “Anyways nice talking to you guys but I gotta go save my friend from getting an STD from some frat boy.” You said turning away from them and treading down the beach with a smile on your face, happy at the fact that you had gotten her as angry as you were.

Once you were out of their sight, the four turned to Kiara. 

“Ok what the fuck was that?” JJ asked.

They had never seen their friend that upset and angry. 

“Nothing, I was trying to help her out by saving her from you but she clearly wasn’t grateful.” She said trying to calm herself down.

“Nope not buying it. Tell us what happened.” Sarah said. If there was one thing Kie knew about Sarah it was that she was never going to stop bugging her until she finally snapped.

“Fine. Fine.” She said running her hands through her curls in frustration. “You guys remember when I had my kook year?” 

The group nodded. 

“Well when Sarah had that party and didn’t invite me I took a walk on the beach trying to distract myself. I met Y/N on the beach, she was smoking and asked if I wanted to hit it so I did, obviously. Next thing I know, I’d smoked two joints with her and ended up telling her all about my problems. She listened and just let me vent to her. By the end of my story she pulled out her phone and called the police telling them about the party.” Kiara explained looking at Sarah with an apologetic look. 

“From then on we hung out everyday. We went surfing, shopping, went to the movies. I practically lived with her for months. Hell she even gave me my tattoo.” Kiara said throwing her arms up.

“One night we were watching a movie and next thing I know she kissed me.” She smiled at the memory. “It was new and exciting.” She trailed off sadly looking down at her feet.

“But I got scared. I just remember waking up and looking at her sleeping, she just looked so beautiful and.. and I knew she deserved better than me. Someone who wasn’t scared of loving her and could do so without disappointing their parents. So I left, I snuck out of her bed and never went back.” She said. “That was almost two years ago.” She finished. 

Sarah walked around the table and hugged her. Kie hadn’t realized she had tears threatening to spill from her eyes. 

“I think you should go talk to her.” She said rubbing her hands up and down her back to comfort her. 

“Yeah I should.” She agreed, pulling out of the hug to wipe her face.

“Wait, you got it on with a hot girl and didn’t even tell us? Selfish.” JJ said with a look of hurt.

Kiara laughed, happy that JJ’s dumbass comment easily lifted the mood without even trying.

“Go talk to her.” Pope said with a small push in the direction the other girl went.

“Seriously? Are we not gonna talk about this? I want details!” JJ yelled after the girl, throwing his hands up in dismay.

He was quickly shut up by John B smacking the back of his head.

“Hey you wanna leave? It’s almost 1am and I’m honestly not in the mood to party anymore.” You said pulling your friend from the conversation she was having with the dark haired male she was dancing with earlier.

“I think I’m gonna stay for a bit.” She smiled while looking at the boy she was definitely going to be sneaking through her window later. 

“Are you okay?” She asked once she noticed your sad expression and your arms wrapped around you trying to make yourself smaller. 

“Yeah I’m good. Just tired.” You reassured. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You said with a smile pointing at the boy.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, have fun. Wear protection!” You shouted with a playful smile making your way up the beach to head home. 

Making your way past the crowd you were stopped by a hand on your arm. 

“Y/N! Wait!”

Closing your eyes you let out a huff of annoyance.

“What?” You asked turning around to face the person stopping you from crashing in your bed.

“Can we talk please?” Kiara asked slowly moving her hand off your arm.

“Sure!” You said with fake enthusiasm. “You wanna start with you leaving me naked in bed after I finally had the courage to make a move? Or do you wanna talk about you being jealous and rude when I was simply talking to your friends? What about you pretending like you didn’t know who I was or what you did to me?” You shouted. 

No one seemed to notice though as the music around the beach was loud, drowning you out.

Kie winced looking down at her feet. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” You asked in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you laughed bitterly.

“Look, can you just let me explain.”

“No! I don’t want to hear it anymore. I wanted a reason years ago not now!”

Kiara still wouldn’t look you in the eyes. Finding her pale yellow vans more interesting at the moment. Huffing you turned on your heels determined to leave before you got even more pissed.

“I was scared because I was falling in love with you.” Kiara spoke softly. 

You froze.

“Everything with you felt so good and I panicked. I panicked because I’ve never felt like that about someone. I panicked because I was scared of what my parents would think once they found out. They already hated me for going back to the pogues and I didn’t want to be anymore of a disappointment to them” She was now in front of you, looking between your eyes for any sort of emotion. Tears were starting to cloud both of your eyes. “Which is stupid because when I told them I liked girls too they didn’t even bat an eye. They just said they would always love me and it didn’t matter who I wanted to be with.” she trailed off.

“Leaving you that day was the worst decision I’ve ever made. I thought I didn’t deserve you, I still don’t. You’re this perfect person, inside and out and I didn’t want to ruin you.” She smiled sadly. “And I just wish you didn’t hate me anymore.” 

You laughed grabbing her face with both hands and wiping her tears away. “No matter what you do, I could never hate you.” You smiled. “Even if I wanted to.” 

“Really?” she looked at you and your bright smile. 

“Really. Wanna know why?” 

Before she could answer you crashed your lips together. She didn’t even hesitate to kiss back, grabbing your neck with one hand and snaking her other one around your waist to keep you close. Everything around you faded away. You couldn’t hear the loud music playing, the waves, not even her friends cheering you two on in the distance. Nothing in that moment mattered, except her. 

Sighing you pulled away with a smile on your face.

Kiara slowly opened her eyes, dazed from feeling your lips on hers again. 

“Wanna stay the night?” You asked, biting your lip to try and contain the huge smile that was trying to escape.

“Do you even need to ask?”

Giving her one more quick kiss, you intertwined your hands and pulled her in the direction of your house. 

“Hope you know you aren’t getting any sleep tonight. We’ve got a lot of making up to do.” 

[ineffably-effable]

further good omens fic recs

It’s been awhile since my last reclist post so here goes, please enjoy the rewards of my complete lack of self-control when it comes to this ship.

Please reach out if I’ve missed a tumblr tag, or drop a note if you have any recommendations I’ve missed! ( 31 recommendations underneath the cut )

(51k) Acts of Service by seekwill / @jasmine-cottage-uk

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

mood: pining, denial, secrets, idiots-in-love. 

(Warning: Don’t start reading this one at midnight expecting to put it down. Learn from my mistakes.) 

(44k) Mirror, Mirror by ImprobableDreams900 / @improbabledreams900

Crowley from an evil!au swaps places with our Crowley.

mood: butterfly effect, identity theft, Aziraphale!whump, badass!Aziraphale  

(40k) The Strong Tower by BuggreAlleThis

After the failed executions, a vengeful angel takes it upon herself to neutralise the threat presented by Crowley and Aziraphale.

mood: aziraphale!whump, protective!crowley, hurt/comfort, pining and fantastic world building.

(23k) You Might Think I'm Crazy (All I Want is You)   by soft_october / @soft-october-night​

Since the next shop over closed down, Aziraphale's had a peaceful few months, barring those unpleasant interactions with the men in cheap suits who keep trying to persuade him to sell his shop. But now a (handsome) new owner has taken up residence beside him and, horror of horrors, he wants to open up a coffee shop.

mood: fledgling friendships, obviously-in-love-to-everyone-but-themselves, almost-letting-your-doubts-and-insecurities-ruin-things, if-only-these-dumb-bastards-knew-how-to-communicate

(23k) names in history by lagaudiere

Maybe he’d shown Crowley how to perform a few miracles, but that Crowley had taken to them so well was surely a sign that he wasn’t all bad. And maybe Aziraphale had let himself be called upon to perform a few temptations, but that was just testing the will of the faithful if you looked at it from a different angle.

mood: slow-burn, through-the-ages, beautifully written.

(22k) This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring 

Aziraphale constructs intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men (by “men” I mean Crowley).

mood: slow-burn, through-the-ages, forbidden love, UST, beautifully written. 

(29k) 5 Times Aziraphale was Almost Discorporated and One Time He Actually was by charliebrown1234 / @charliebrown1234

What it says on the tin.

mood: Aziraphale!whump through the ages, protective Crowley, hurt/comfort, wonderful characterizations.

(20k) In Pleasure's Clothes by obstinatrix, wishwellingtons

Three Times Aziraphale Stalked Crowley In Gay Clubs And One Time He Moped At Wilde’s Grave.

mood: jealousy, pining, miscommunications, idiots-in-love

(18k) Soft (A Love Story in Three Bites) by mia_ugly / @mia-ugly​

Crowley was an angel, once. Before she fell. Aziraphale was a warrior (she fell too. It just took a little longer.)

mood: ineffable wives thoughtfully done and beautifully written, pining, emotional vulnerability, hurting the ones you love, references to gothic romances that absolutely slay me, switching POVs between Aziraphale and  Crowley.

(18k) On Earth as it is in Heaven by JMA

Aziraphale was at Crowley's trial...the first one.

For six thousand years Aziraphale felt like an angel who has fallen, waiting for Heaven to realise. His fear and doubt has shaped and defined him. Now, with the Armageddon over and Heaven and Hell off their backs it is finally time to come clean.

mood: betrayal, pining, misguided attempts at atonement, miscommunication and forgiveness 

 (15k) Through Every Door by darlingred1 / @darlingred1​

After thwarting the end of the world, Aziraphale begins to avoid Crowley, and Crowley accidentally awakens his own repressed lust.

mood: mutually-pining-idiots, miscommunication,  immortal-beings-taking-turns-with-their-single-brain-cell, surprisingly-Crowley-has-first-dibs

(16k) Least of All by stereobone / @stereobone​

Every so often, Crowley talks to God.

mood: Crowley worrying after Aziraphale through the ages. Beautifully written, fantastic Crowley perspective.

(14k) Wine Fraud and Other Worthy Pursuits by ImprobableDreams900  / @improbabledreams900​

When Aziraphale, rare book dealer and part-time wine collector, encounters a bottle of 1844 Château Lafite-Rothschild he suspects isn't all that it claims, he becomes determined to track down the truth.

Unfortunately, the finger of suspicion seems to point at fellow wine collector Anthony J. Crowley, whom Aziraphale is already well on his way to befriending.

mood: suspicious Aziraphale and fledgling friendships  

(12k) Laugh When It Sinks In by Tenoko1 / @tenoko1​

Crowley stopped them in their trek, slipping his arm from Aziraphale’s grasp to face him, hands on his shoulders. “Are you sure you’re alright? A-are you having, like, a mid-life crisis or something now that Heaven’s cut you loose? You’re worrying me. What’s next? Cherry red sports car?”

mood: making a home for yourself and your charmingly oblivious life partner 

(10k) The Original Bar Joke by deathbycoldopen / @deathbycoldopen​

The way Crowley saw things, it was all one big joke, with him as the punchline.

mood: drunk!pining, idiots-in-love, jealous!Crowley, straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back moments, drunk!confessions

(8k) did you open up your heart there? by weatheredlaw / @weatheredlaw​

Aziraphale and Crowley meet over and over and over again. Aziraphale doesn't know what Crowley is, or why their souls can't seem to be parted, but he is a creature of love, and he's not going to argue with that.

mood: ready to have your heart broken over and over and over?

(7k) The Ark by rfsmiley / @redfacesmiley​

We’ve all been assuming that it takes them 6,000 years to figure it out, but what if it takes 6,300?

Or: the ineffable husbands evacuate a dying Earth.

mood: ineffable dystopian sci-fi romance (and yes, I love that this is a mood I can use to describe a good omens fic).

(7k) Where Thou Art by Mottlemoth / @mottlemoth​

A late-night bus to London, a few human comforts, and a long overdue confession... nothing will ever be the same for an angel and his demon.

mood: we-might-be-dead-by-tomorrow-love-confessions

(5k) Love Stories by goodomensblog  / @goodomensblog

Crowley goes too slow, Aziraphale drinks copious amounts of alcohol, and the bookshop is (very nearly) set on fire. Again.

mood: drinking because you’re an idiot in love (or because you’re in love with an idiot), looking after your drunk mate (only he’s not your mate he’s the love of your life and he’s finally starting to get that)

(4k) A Metaphor Of Some Kind by copperbadge / @copperbadge​

After the world doesn't end, Hell gets Crowley and Heaven gets Aziraphale, but not for very long.

mood: witty with great voices, loads of fun

(4k) One Sweet Moment Set Aside For Us by Arej 

Tattoos are like stories you write on your skin, and they'll say things for you if you'll let them. Or perhaps prompt other people to say things.

Or, Crowley is just drunk enough to get bold and let his guard down, and it leads to something he never thought he'd be allowed to have.

mood: pining, touching, reverance, love confessions

(3k) Something To Talk About by iamtheenemy (Steph)

Aziraphale jumps to some very inaccurate conclusions.

mood: pining and misconceptions, let’s see if we can make Crowley have an aneurysm.

Wow! Thanks for scrolling this far! You’ve unlocked the secret  “I’ll be in my bunk” section of the rec list! ;)

(That’s not to say the fics above don’t have their own hot scenes, or that the fic below are only  pwp, but these are the fics where the plot is either focused mostly on sex or the build-up to sex.)

(4k) left with no trace, as if not spoken to by drawlight / @drawlight​

Aziraphale's finger brushes against the edge of Crowley's hand. The theater is packed, it is dark. Everyone is watching the stage (no one is watching them). "Do you - ?" "Yeah, angel."

mood: Shakespeare may not have deserved this, but this reader is glad this exists.

(4k) I Tempt, You Thwart... Right? by AEpixie7 / @knightofthesevenfandoms​

Crowley accidentally-on-purpose roofies Aziraphale and then feels bad about it because Aziraphale is so high that he can't remember how to sober up.

mood: serious wing kink, drug-induced-loss-of-inhibitions

(6k) Appetite by spunknbite / @spunknbite​

Crowley places the macaron against Aziraphale’s lips with more reverence than the angel had thought him capable. “It’s alright, angel. Just take a bite.”

mood: drunk sex, overcoming inhibitions, first time, hand feeding 

(6k) The Better Part of Valour by obstinatrix

Said I, a few weeks ago: "I feel there’s also room for e.g. bedsharing fic where the apocalypse has Not Happened and they’ve fallen into queerplatonic (or so they think) bedsharing and Crowley thinks he’s alone in being driven slowly to distraction by it, so he says nothing. Then one night he wakes when it’s still dark, and at first he doesn’t know why, until he hears Aziraphale’s breathing a little raspier than usual, and feels the very slight trembling of the bed."

mood: bed-sharing-with-serious-insecurities-and-misunderstanding

(7k) a treatise on your fingers in my hair by Nimravidae / @tooeasilyconsidered​

Crowley sleeps for two days, his hair is a mess, and all it takes is a touch. Like a catalyst. Like striking flint, like a matchstick, like touching fire to gunpowder

mood: all that pent up UST has to go somewhere 

(9k) Released by vaguely_concerned / @vaguely-concerned​

After they get together Aziraphale has some lingering Ideas about his brief stint in the Bastille; Crowley is happy to help him explore them. Hijinks, as they say, ensue.

mood: french revolution era role play w/ feelings, fantastic dialogue. 

(17k) One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster)  by Atalan / @seaskystone​

Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

mood: flirting and first times

You’re still here? Can’t get enough? Well check out these amazing WIPs!

Slow Show by mia_ugly / @mia-ugly​

The Ineffable Pining Showmance AU that no one asked for.

mood: a more accurate summary would be the: ineffable pining showmance AU that no one knew to ask for, and everyone wanted more of. The characterizations in this are amazing. Crowley as a fallen film star is perfection. 

Shifting Heaven and Earth by BuggreAlleThis

For most of history, since he narrowly avoiding Falling from Heaven with Lucifer, Crowley has been working for the Angelic Corruption Unit. This ended up being far more boring than he hoped it would be, but things change when he is assigned to go undercover on Earth. His mission is to investigate Aziraphale, an infamous angel who has been on Earth since its Creation, and whom Heaven is sure is guilty of corruption or dereliction of duty. 

mood: slow-burn, betrayal, regrets,  aziraphale!whump, bamf!aziraphale

the bucket list by darcylindbergh / @forineffablereasons

If you’re going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

mood: saying the absolutely wrong thing at the wrong time, reaching your breaking point, miscommunication and heart break.

Still here? :)

My previous good omens recs post can be found here [x]

[theliteraryvampire]

Take Your Heart In Your Teeth (10/?)

Warnings: None!

Fandom: BBC Dracula (Dracula x Reader)

Author’s Note: We’re getting into it now bois :)

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

Dracula heard the shower turn on, and, smiling to himself, he got out of bed. Disregarding his now crumpled clothes on the floor, he went to his dresser and instead got out a pair of slacks and a button up shirt to change into. He was just about to close the drawer when he hesitated. Glancing back towards his bathroom, he decided to pull out a sweater, his favorite sweater, for (Y/N). He was feeling unusually sentimental, but the image of (Y/N) wearing something that was his, leaving her scent all over it, filled him with a carnal desire.

He took out the sweater and laid it across his bed, then picked up her jeans and folded them on top. He picked up her own sweater next, but he didn’t lay it out with her other items. Instead, he held it to his nose and breathed in deeply, picking up the notes of warm vanilla, dark plum, sandalwood, and musk, at once feminine yet intriguing, mysterious...the perfect description of (Y/N), he thought. 

Selfishly, Dracula put the sweater in his drawer, hiding it, wanting to have a physical reminder of what had just transpired moments ago. The effect (Y/N) had on him was an enigma, but Dracula found himself desperate to have a tangible grasp on it, as if he needed to prove that this...this thing between them...was real. Only, Dracula didn’t know exactly who the proof was for. Others, or himself?

Not wanting to sit and wait and drive his mind insane thinking, Dracula meandered to his living room, where he sat and picked up the files (Y/N) had brought over. He rifled through folders labelled things such as “Field Notes,” “Research I,” “Research II,” and “Documents,” until he came across one labelled “Personal.” He didn’t want to invade (Y/N)’s privacy, but he was curious. Plus, Dracula figured, if there were things she didn’t want him seeing, she wouldn’t have brought them over.

Opening up the folder, the first thing Dracula saw was an itinerary. Finding schedules to be boring, he was about to flip past it, when a note caught his eye. Scribbled in a corner of her itinerary, (Y/N) had written, “9/23/13, 3rd day here and injured lol. Fell hard, blacked out, remember nothing. No stitches but nasty scar on hip. Tour guide Nik huge help.”

Dracula clenched his jaw. So this was the tour guide (Y/N) had talked about. Ever the more curious, he pulled everything out of the folder, but something with weight slip out between the pages and landed on the coffee table. It was a CD labelled “Trip + Friends.” Glancing to the still running shower, Dracula got his laptop, turned it on, and popped the CD in.

A younger version of (Y/N) swam into view. The first clip featured her in a castle, though the camera was mostly pointed at the ground. Every now and then the camera would flash up to a window or the ceiling, but it was clear that (Y/N) didn’t want to be caught taking a video. The second clip showed the view of the Carpathians, and Dracula smiled to himself, happy seeing his homeland for the first time in two centuries. He fast forwarded a little, and stopped when he saw (Y/N) surrounded by other people. She looked to be in a bar, and she was yelling into the camera. 

“Day six and we’re living it up!” she said, laughing. “Over there is Professor Garner!” The shot flipped over to a balding man who was drinking out of a beer stein. 

“Yo Professor G!” He smiled and gave a little wave, and the camera flipped back onto (Y/N).

“What other professor takes their researchers out to drink? He’s not like other professors, he’s a cool professor.” She winked and then laughed at this apparent joke, but Dracula didn’t understand the meaning.

“Aaaand here we have Dorian and Georgie!” A young man covered in tattoos and a woman with curly brown hair came up behind (Y/N) and put their arms around her.

“Show off your scar to the camera!” Georgie laughed, jokingly lifting (Y/N)’s shirt a bit.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Only I would get a massive scar on my fuckin’ hip of all places and not even remember it!” She sighed. “Bye bye bikinis.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll look awful in them now,” Dorian deadpanned, and he kissed her cheek before he was pulled away by Georgie. That ignited something in Dracula’s veins, the feeling of jealousy not one to which he was accustomed to.

(Y/N) then walked over to a man sitting at a table by himself, and Dracula thought that she looked...off, somehow, like she had just been put in an uncomfortable situation, but she was trying her best not to show it. The man was attractive though, young, with short wavy hair, strikingly light blue eyes, and fuller lips, so perhaps (Y/N) was just nervous, nervous like she had been with Dracula before, a tantalizing emotion he loved playing with, touching her hand, looking at her just so, drawing a finger over— 

“Everyone, meet Nik!” 

Oh. Dracula scowled. Nik looked down at her and smiled, but said nothing. “Not only is he the best tour guide ever, but he was the one who found me after I fell and now I totally owe him a drink!”

(Y/N) started walking away, Nik still visible in the background of the video. Dracula saw that he watched her the whole way, possessive, eyes never leaving her form, and in the span of a tenth of a second, far too quick for mortal eyes to catch, Dracula saw what (Y/N) had failed to. He paused the video and went back a few frames, and there, right on the screen, was—

“Hey!” (Y/N) said, walking into the room. “I couldn't find my own shirt but I saw that you had laid this out, so I just threw it on, if that’s ok.” She was busy trying to roll up the extremely too long sleeves, but when she picked her head up to look at Dracula, her face fell. “W-what’s wrong?”

“It seems as though I’m not the first vampire you’ve ever met, and I’m certainly not the first vampire you’ve ever slept with.” Dracula was angry, and Dracula was jealous, but why? He knew of course that (Y/N) wasn’t a virgin, so it couldn’t be that. No, Dracula felt jealous because...because...

“What?!”

Dracula said nothing, but he turned his laptop around to show her. It took (Y/N) a few seconds to understand what she was seeing, but it slowly came back to her. She remembered that night in Romania, the bar, drinking, having a good time with her friends, but she was clearly confused, her eyebrows knit together.

“I don’t get it.”

“Look closer,” Dracula said through clenched teeth.

(Y/N) took a few steps closer, staring at the screen, at the image of herself and Nik. Staring at Nik, there, a few feet behind her, at Nik, there, with his ice blue eyes...no, Nik, there, with his eyes clouded in red.

[maluminspace]

The Morning After

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Pairings: Michael Clifford/Reader

Word count: 2970

Requested: by anon from this prompt list (requests now closed)-

D32 “don’t apologise for your morning wood”

D44 “I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before.”

Trigger Warnings: strong language, alcohol, casual sex (kinda)

A/N: This is the longest reader insert smut I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it! Special thanks to @5sosnsfw and @h0tsos for helping me make this one of my favourite things I’ve written.

It felt as though someone was trying to stick sharp pins through your eyes into your brain. That was definitely the last time you planned to try and wake up for the rest of the day. Hangovers fucking suck. Thank god for your soft mattress, comfy pillows and warm duvet. They were going to be the only things you needed until your inevitable need for food and water forced you of bed later.

Sleep had almost taken you again when a small groan from behind you pulled you back into consciousness with a start. Despite the pain in your head, your eyes snapped open as you turned to face the person next to you.

You felt your heart rate double as your bleary eyes land on Michael Clifford. 

No, no, no...

This was exactly the opposite of what you’d wanted to happen. You’d been trying to work out how to make your move on Michael for weeks. You’d been carefully planning outfits, finessing your flirting techniques and even sneakily finding out his interests from your mutual friend, Calum. All of that effort had gone to waste now that your drunken self had apparently jumped his bones.

You couldn’t have been more angry at yourself if you’d tried. Michael was a beautiful, sweet, funny person and you’d wanted to do the whole ‘dating thing’ with him. At the very least, you’d have liked to remember the one night you’d spent with him, if that’s all that was destined to happen.

Michael groaned again as he curled his legs up closer to his chest and slung his pale, tattooed arm over his eyes. You watched him absently as you tried to think back to the previous evening.

You remembered dancing in the living room with Calum to some some old cheesy pop music, before Ashton had brought over a tray of tequila shots. Things had gotten a lot fuzzier after that. 

Whilst you tried to search your brain for any snippets of information from last night, you’d suddenly gained the presence of mind to check if you were wearing any clothes at all.

You’d cautiously lifted the duvet and sighed with relief to find that you were still wearing the old ‘Green Day’ T-shirt you’d donned for the party as well as your underwear. A quick glance over the floor next to the bed, revealed your skinny jeans and boots had been discarded there, seemingly in quite a hurry.

Before any more memories came back to you, a phone vibrated on the bedside table. You could tell by the rhythm beating out against the polished wood that it wasn’t your own. 

Michael rolled over onto his back, his eyes still closed as he blindly reached towards the sound of his phone. As his fingers closed around the mobile he fired one pretty green eye open to reject the call before slumping back into the pillows.

An involuntary moan escaped you as you ran your eyes over the man laid out beside you. His golden hair was tousled, sticking out in every direction as though someone had definitely been tugging at it during in a make-out session or something. It also would have been very hard to miss the bruises littering his pale neck. The purple marks trailed down from just beneath his jawline to the base of his neck. They definitely looked like your handiwork and if you weren’t so pissed off at yourself you’d probably have been pretty proud of yourself.

As you continue to examine Michael, it didn’t escape your notice that he was (at the very least) topless. His pale chest, littered with just the right amount of hair in your opinion, disappears beneath the duvet just below his nipples.

As much as all of those visuals and the insinuations behind them made your heart race, the thing that really had your hungover brain in a whirl was the way that the covers were tenting around Michael’s crotch.

If your mouth hadn’t been drier than the Sahara Desert, you were pretty sure you’d be drooling everywhere. There’s nothing you’d wanted more in that moment, than to lift the covers, even though it would have been entirely inappropriate to do that, of course. It doesn’t stop you from staring at the bulging covers for a little longer, though.

“Oh fuck!” 

Michael’s groggy voice broke through your daze as he hastily sat up and tried to cover the sizeable bump in the duvet with his hands. “I’m sorry...” He groaned, his voice dripping with embarrassment. “Shit!”

The shame in Michael’s tone finally dragged your attention away from his crotch and back to his face. His soft cheeks were turning crimson above the light stubble covering the lower half of his face. His startled green eyes stared back at you like those of a cornered wild animal. He was clearly mortified by his body’s unconscious reaction and you found it completely adorable.

“You don’t have to apologise for your morning wood.” You smirked, your tone sounding much dopier than you’d intended. Maybe that was a good thing though? Perhaps he’d think you were still drunk.

Michael didn’t seem to have the ability to formulate words. He was clearly a little worse-for-ware, having probably consumed as much alcohol the night before as you had.

Whilst you waited for the power of speech to return to him, you revelled in the blush that was continuing to spread over Michael’s cheeks. You were obviously still disappointed that your first sexual contact with your biggest crush was lost in the hazes of your hungover brain. There wasn’t anything you could do about that now, though. It’d definitely make you feel a little bit better about your ruined plans, though, if you could make something happen now, something you could actually remember.

“It’s just that...” Michael stuttered, bringing your attention back to the present moment. “We made-out a lot last night and it was... Well it was really hot but we were drunk so I guess we kinda passed out before we could...”

Relief flooded through you at Michael’s words. You could live with forgetting some drunken kissing but at least you’d definitely remember the first time you saw him naked, if things went your way this morning.

“So I left you wanting more, huh?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and hoping you sound as seductive as you meant to. Your hand twitched towards Michael’s which were still covering his hard dick. “I’m sorry I was such a tease.”

“Oh no!” Michael insisted, shaking his head. “I wasn’t like - I don’t mean that I have those kind of expectations of you I just...”

You giggled, gently brushing the back of his hand with the tips of your fingers. “I know what you meant, Michael.” You confirmed gently. “The only thing I regret is that I was too drunk to take care of you properly.”

Michael’s mouth opened and closed a few times soundlessly, like he was trying to formulate words but failing dramatically. It’d be amusing if you weren’t so eager to kiss that startled expression from his beautiful face.

“You mean last night wasn’t just because you were drunk?” He asked, sounding absolutely flabbergasted at the possibility that you might actually ‘like’ him.

You shake your head, biting your bottom lip between your teeth as you gently wrap your fingers around one of his wrists, slowly urging him to move his hand away from his crotch. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for a long time, Mike.” You confessed as your eyes drifted down towards the tenting duvet again. “I’ve just been waiting for the right time. I obviously just couldn’t help myself last night, though, drunk me has far less restraint than sober me. Sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be sorry!” Michael insisted, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. I’m way too much of a wuss, though. Drunk you helped a lot by making the move for me.”

Even though you were listening to what Michael had to say, you couldn’t stop yourself from removing the duvet from his lap. The soft cotton fabric of Michael’s plain black boxers was straining to keep his hard cock contained. 

You hummed appreciatively at the apparent size of Michael’s dick, subconsciously licking your lips in anticipation of actually tasting it. “Yeah?” You asked, momentarily lifting your gaze to meet his eyes again. “Would you like me to make the first move now, too?”

There was a spark of lust in Michael’s pretty eyes as he nodded. He still looks kind of dumbfounded and you can’t help but assume that he doesn’t find himself in these sorts of situations very often. “Only if you want to, though.”

That’d been all the invitation you needed. Smirking cheekily you slowly leaned into kiss him, ensuring that you committed every single second to memory. 

A soft moan escaped Michael when your lips met his and you swallowed it hungrily. Kissing Michael felt about a thousand times more magical than you’d expected it to. So what if his lips were a little chapped from dehydration? Who cared if he tasted like stale beer? None of those things mattered at all when his hands were cradling your face and his tongue was working in a perfect rhythm against your own.

Despite your impatience to move things along, you wanted to relax michael a bit before you ‘pounced’, you smiled reassuringly as you pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his. “I’m kinda sad I can’t remember exactly what happened between us.” You explained, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. “Can you give me all the details?”

“Well, you were dancing with Calum.” Michael replied, his voice quiet and a little scratchy. “I know you two are pretty close friends but I ummm…”

The blush in the blonde man’s cheeks deepened a little and the realisation of what he was trying to tell you suddenly hit you. “You were jealous?” You smirked, thoroughly delighted with the revelation.

Michael nodded bashfully. You pulled back a little to look at him properly. His expression betrayed just how ashamed he was at admitting he was jealous. “I’m sorry, I know I had no right to be.”

“So what did you do to try and tempt me away from Calum?” You asked, unable to stop a proud smirk from curling one corner of your lips. “Did you try and fight him for my attention?”

A tiny laugh escaped the blonde man as he shook his head. “Luke got sick of me complaining so he dragged me over to you and asked if you’d dance with me.”

Michael was obviously embarrassed by the story and so you encouraged him with another kiss. You also dropped one of your hands to rest on his upper thigh, intent upon keeping him hard until you were ready to take things up a notch.

“Then what, babe?” You asked, hoping that the pet name helps Michael to realise just how much you want him. A flicker of something like lust flickers across his handsome face. “Did we dance?”

Michael nodded, swallowing hard as your hand crept higher up his thigh. You’re sort of captivated by the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. It’s hard for you to refrain from swooping in and kissing the spot where it’d settled. “For a little while.” He finally replied. “Then we kissed and we came in here to make-out.”

You hummed in response, trying to encourage him to keep talking as you gave into the urge to kiss his neck. 

“You were so fucking hot...” Michael recalled, his voice becoming husky as his arousal grew. 

“Tell me everything, Mikey.” You mumbled into his skin. You nipped and sucked at all of the marks you’d left there the night before as you slid your hand over his boxers, palming at him through the material. “What happened next?”

The blonde’s breath hitched in his throat at the much needed friction. “You took off my jeans.” He gasped, gripping your hair needily. “Then you pushed me down on the bed before you took of your own.”

“I wish we’d have been sober enough to fuck.” You moaned, moving your kisses back towards Michael’s lips. “I’ve wanted it for so long, babe.”

A broken whine escaped Michael as he bucked his hips, desperately seeking more friction. He obviously really liked his new pet name and you planned to use that to your advantage. “Me too.” He admitted, his voice gaspy now. “Fuck... I want you.” He stuttered.

You smirked teasingly as you grip Michael tighter. “Then take these off, babe...” you instructed before pressing another desperate kiss to his lips.

As soon as you’d pulled apart, Michael scrabbled out of his boxers. His face is flushed but you couldn’t appreciate it’s beauty for too long. Your anticipation to see Michael’s fully naked body was too strong. Your eyes roamed lower over his pale chest and soft tummy until they landed on his painfully hard dick. It’s bigger than you’d expected and it tore a surprised moan from you. “Holy shit..” 

Your reaction seemed to make Michael self conscious, as he reached to try and cover himself again. 

“Why’re you trying to hide it from me?” You asked, your voice becoming gravelly with your growing lust. “Don’t you want me to touch it?”

Michael hesitantly dropped his hands to his side and whispered “I really do. What about you, though?” He asked, his tone apprehensive and shy.

“Do you wanna touch me, babe?” You enquired. When he nodded you took one of his hands and guided it beneath your t-shirt. “You can touch me wherever you want to, Mikey.”

Michael moaned as he explored your body with his hands, trancing over your torso, back and hips as you captured his lips in another desperate kiss. As your lips moved together seamlessly, you reached down to stroke Michael’s cock, loving the way he moaned into the kiss and dug his fingertips into your skin.

You’d always kind of imagined that you’d be the one taking the lead when if you and Michael ever hooked up. It’d always been pretty clear to you that your crush is the shy type. All of his bashful smiles and the way his cheeks flushed every time you caught him looking at you when he thought you wouldn’t see him. They were all tell-tale signs that he’d need you to make the first move. What you didn’t anticipate, though, was how much you’d enjoy this power dynamic.

When you pulled away from the kiss for air, you took the opportunity to shuffle out of your remaining clothes, slinging them onto the floor to join Michael’s boxers.

You could barely contain the pleasure it brought to you when you returned your gaze to Michael. His beautiful green eyes were roaming over your body so hungrily that you were surprised his mouth wasn’t on you already. “Do you want me, Michael?” You asked, an element of your smugness seeming into your voice. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you.” He groaned in response, pulling you closer until your lips met again.

It was all much more desperate and lust-filled this time. The two of you were gasping into each other’s mouths as you pressed your chest against his.

Michael seemed to gain a little more courage as his hands slipped lower to grip at your arse.

As much as you loved his new found bravery, you loved being in control a little more. You pushed him back down onto the mattress, making a show of eyeing every inch of him before laying down next him.

He turned onto his side and pulled you in for another lustful kiss as you slid your hand between your writhing bodies to stroke Michael again. “Holy fuck...” he murmured into your mouth as he bucked his hips, clumsily fucking your fist.

“You like that, babe?” You whispered teasingly. “Wait ‘til I get my mouth on you later.”

Michael groaned longingly. “I can’t wait... I wanna taste you too.” He promises as he hesitantly slips a hand between your legs stroking the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

You open your legs a little wider and guide Michael’s hand up to where you really need it most. He moaned even louder than you did at the feeling of touching you so intimately.

Your hand subconsciously picked up pace, stroking Michael harder and faster as you kiss him lustfully. 

Throaty moans fill the room as you both pushed each other closer to your orgasms.

Michael’s rosy blush started to spread down his neck and chest and you knew he was getting close. He buried his face in your shoulder as he gasped into your skin, cursing softly.

“Are you gonna cum for me, babe?” You asked, your voice broken and gravelly. Your own orgasm is building with surprising intensity but you want to see Michael reach his high first.

Michael didn’t even get chance to answer verbally before he came apart for you. The sounds he made were so beautiful and the way he tensed against you, unintentionally pulling you closer to him helped you follow along just seconds afterwards.

You lay together for a few long moments afterwards, your bodies pressed together and your legs intertwined as your breathing and your heart rates slowly returned to normal.

In your groggy, post-orgasm state, you held Michael close, still trying to commit every last sound and feeling to memory. Faintly, you found your self hoping that the memories last night’s antics would return to you. It didn’t matter quite so much to you anymore, though, because this morning meant so much more than a few drunken kisses. You could only hope that there were many more just like it in the future.

Masterlist

[dont-cry2020]

Meet Me by the Pool

Ashton Irwin x Reader

//Smut and a little fluff at the end// (My first time writing smut don’t come @ me)

//so essentially you’re the photographer for 5sos and you’re shooting the bathtub picture from the Easier music video and you’ve been crushing on Ashton for forever but when you see him in the bathtub soaking wet, it makes you soaking wet (sorry had too) and also Michael is your big brother and Crystal is your best friend and they set you two up bc their tired of you teasing each other//

“Okay,” you say, squatting down in front of the giant tub and focusing your camera. “Luke, I need you to tilt your head back against the ledge,” “Perfect, thank you,” you tell him, snapping a few photos of the four boys. 

You had only been 5 seconds of summer’s photographer for a few weeks, but management really liked what you had done so far, so they asked you to shoot the promo for the band’s new single, ‘Easier’. 

“Okay guys, that was great. You can go now,” you tell them, flicking through the photos you took. You couldn’t help but stare at Ashton's figure. You wondered how someone could be so effortlessly photogenic. Your eyes drink in the photo, looking at how his head was rolled back and his eyes were shut. You couldn’t help but wonder if he would look like that as he took you, right there in that tub.

“You alright, Y/n?” Ashton says from behind you, making you jump. “Sorry,” he chuckles as you stand up from the ground and awkwardly dusk off your thighs. The blush crept up your cheeks as you, once again, took in his appearance. 

The black shirt he wore clung to the muscles that adorned his chest and his biceps were on the verge of popping out of his sleeves. His black trousers were also clinging to other things... You gulped, averting your gaze from his thighs as thoughts rushed through your mind. 

Clearly, he knew what he was doing to you. The way his lips twinged up slightly on one side of his face, and the way he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth. He was teasing you. Had Michael told him about your little crush?

“Y/n?” he steps closer to you, leaving about a foot of distance in between the two of you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Oh-uh-yeah- I’m fine,” you managed to stutter, scooping up all of your camera equipment in your arms and speed walking to Michael’s dressing room. You burst through the door, ready to throw hands.

“Michael I’m going to kill yo- holy shit I’m so sorry,” you say, shutting the door quickly. You had walked in on your brother burying himself in between his fiancee Crystal’s legs. 

You slide down the wall and bury your head in your knees, the fuzzy feeling radiating in your stomach only increases when you hear that husky voice say your name.

“Y/n?” Ashton asks, standing in front of you. You could see the black dress shoes he wore from under your arms. “What’s wrong?” he asks, making you lift your head and meet his gaze. He had combed his hair again and he was wearing a bright white wife-beater tucked into black trousers. His abs popped out of the sheer shirt and his tattoos were on display for you.

“Earth to Y/n,” he says, raising his eyebrows and popping his dimple out with a bright smile. He waved his hand in front of your face and you snapped back to reality, the blush creeping up your cheeks again as you realized that you had been staring... again.

Suddenly, Ashton’s lips were inches away from your face. His hand rested on the wall above your head, holding himself up so he could lean down to your ear. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt him fan his breath across the side of your neck.

“You know,” he says, his voice soft yet husky. “If you want me to kiss you so badly, you could have just said so, doll.” Your eyes widen at the words that leave his plump red lips. God, what was he doing to you?! 

He moves his head so that his lips are centimeters away from yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you prepare for the relief that washes over you. Or so you thought...

Michael’s dressing room door creaks, making both you and Ashton jump. The drummer straightens himself up and begins to saunter down the hall before Michael can suspect anything as he approaches you, Crystal on his arm.

“Sorry about earlier,” you mumble to the both of them. “Should've knocked.”

“It’s okay,” Crystal says lightly, sliding down the wall next to you. “Something’s up,” she says, tilting her head at you. “What is it?” Ever since your brother had started dating Crystal, the two of you became best friends, and you would tell each other everything. She was the big sister you never had.

You sigh. “Ashton.”

Crystal and Michael both gasp in unison as you had told them about your little crush on the red-haired man after one too many shots were taken at the club.

“Babe, what happened?” Crystal asks you. 

“He almost kissed me but... Didn’t...?” you tell them, confused about the whole situation yourself. “And,” you start. “He’s been like... teasing me... like all day,” you finish, burying your face in your hands again.

“Oh my God,” Michael says. “My little sister is gonna get laid by Ashton Irwin.”

You wack him on the back of the head. 

“What?” he says smugly. “One of us has to fulfill my dream.”

This time it’s Crystal’s turn to thwack him on the back of the head. You laugh a little, pulling your tongue in between your teeth.

“Somebody’s got a crush!” Michael yells, jumping up and skipping through the halls.

“Idiot,” you say to yourself, making you and Crystal burst into a fit of laughter.

Once Michael had disappeared down the long hallway, Crystal decided to give you some real advice. She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. She meant business and you could tell.

“All jokes aside,” she started, leaning up against the opposite wall. “Ashton obviously likes you, and his way of flirting is teasing with you.”

You stand up and pace up and down the hall. “How do I know he’s not just fucking with me?” you say, throwing your hands up. 

“He’s not,” a voice says behind you and you jump (you could blame the four cups of coffee you had this morning for how jumpy you were). 

“Luke?” you say. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” He says chuckling to himself. “Walls aren’t too thick here, huh? Anyways,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve known Ashton since I was a teenager and I know that he wouldn’t ever fuck with a girl’s feelings like that. He definitely likes you.”

“See?” Crystal says. “Even Luke agrees with me.”

You look up at the ceiling. “What do I do,” You say to no one in particular, hoping the answer will be laid out right in front of you. 

“Personally,” Luke says, burying his hands in his pockets. “I would dress as sexy as possible and barge into his hotel room tonight. Works every time because even if he doesn’t reciprocate, at least you’ll get a good fuck out of it.”

“Luke!” you and Crystal say in unison. 

“That’s a terrible idea,” Crystal says rolling her eyes. “Just go talk to him. See what he’s about.” Luke shrugs.

“Suit yourself.”

“Thanks for the advice,” you say to Crystal. “I love you so much and I’m so happy you’re gonna be my sister in-law.” Crystal smiles at this.

“Me too,” she says. “Go get him, girl!” 

“I will!” you say, running down the hall.

——————————————————————————

It was around 7:30 in the evening and you still weren’t sure what to do about the ache in your lower stomach. You were driving yourself crazy thinking about the drummer with the red hair and the snake tattoo on his bicep.

You were laying on the bed in your hotel room, staring at the ceiling, when a knock at the door tore you out of your thoughts. You reluctantly opened it to see no one. Wait, what?

Had you imagined that knock? You sighed and shut the door when a yellow card caught your eye. You bent over, picking it up delicately and inspecting the outside of it.

Y/n Y/l/n was written in red ink, fancy looped letters adorned the page. You opened the note.

Y/n,

meet me by the pool at 8. Wear something you can get wet.

-Ashton

You were shaking as you read the note, tracing over each loop and letter, trying to get a hold of what you had just read.

“Wear something you can get wet?” You mumble to yourself. “What does that even mean?”

Michaels POV

“Wear something you can get wet?” Crystal says, raising her eyebrows. “Are you 13?”

“It’s mysterious,” I say, happy with myself as I fold up the note. “They’ll never know.”

“Okay,” Crystal says, folding up an identical note. “Ashton’s is done too. Now all that’s left to do is slip the notes under their doors.”

Ashton’s POV

Ashton,

Meet me by the pool at 8. It’s important.

-Y/n

I read the note over and over again, trying to wake myself up from this daydream. My stomach was full of butterflies as the image of y/n, completely naked in the pool, floated through my head. I felt my cock twitch in my pants as I scolded myself for such thoughts. She said it was important.

I grab my leather jacket and take a deep breath as I make my way down the hallway.

Reader’s POV

7:57. The cold night air made you shiver as you made your way to the pool. Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw him, the moonlight illuminating his features.

His trousers were rolled up to his shins, feet dipped in the water as a strand of hair fell into his face. His bicep flexed as he pushed it off his forehead. He looked nervous.

“Hey,” You say quietly, catching his attention.

“Hey,” he breathes, patting the space next to him on the pool deck. You watched his eyes flutter over your body as you carefully sat next to him.

It’s quiet for a while as you figure out what to say.

“Why did-“ you were cut off when Ashton cupped your cheek with his hand and pressed his lips to yours. You could’ve sworn fireworks went off and at that moment, everything was perfect.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you to your feet, his lips feverishly kissing yours. Hours and hours of pent up feelings were released and the relief that you felt was amazing. 

He pressed your back into the wall, the coldness of the brick chilling your bones as you kissed like your life depended on it. You found the door, slipping through it as your fingers ran through Ashton’s red locks.

Before you knew it, you were pressed up against the door to his hotel room as he fiddled with the room key. Ashton kicked the door closed with his foot, your lips not once breaking contact. 

The back of your legs hit the mattress and your knees buckled backward, pulling Ashton on top of you. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and he was making it hard to catch your breath. Your nails scraped down his chest before you reached the hem of his shirt, pushing it over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room.

No words were exchanged as you undressed each other, leaving both of you in your underwear. 

“Y/n,” Ashton pants, breaking the passionate silence. “I really like you but do you really want this?” His forehead was pressed into yours and your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded your head.

“Words, Doll,” he says, running his hand through your long hair. 

“Yes, Ashton. I want this. I want you,” you tell him, before attaching your lips to his again. He reaches around to your bra clasp, moaning at the feeling of your bare breasts pressing into his chest.

Your back arches against him, hoping that you get some friction. Sweat is beading on your forehead as you pant. He attaches his lips to your neck, making you writhe underneath him. He marks your skin with his swollen lips, sucking and biting at the tender flesh. You moan quietly as he finds your sweet spot, gripping at his hair. 

Your hands roam down his shoulders to his arms, squeezing them as he moves his mouth lower and lower. He stops his mouth at your breasts and swirls his tongue around your nipple, using his hand to pinch the other. Nails scrape down his chest as you reach the hem of his boxers, tugging on the tightening fabric slightly. 

Ashton grunts, helping you pull them off. You moan at the sight of his hard cock springing up against his stomach, tip red and leaking pre-cum.

“Ashton,” you moan as his lips reach your navel, sucking and biting at the soft skin. He grabs your underwear with his teeth and slowly drags it down your legs. He looks up at you, asking for your permission and you nod, fisting the sheets as he blows air on your needy heat.

“So wet for me, Love,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Who got you this worked up?” He smirks, stopping his actions and watching you squirm under him.

“You,” you whisper, wanting him, needing him to do something.

“Sorry, What was that?” He asks, smirking.

“You, Ashton!”

“There you go, Doll.” He dips his tongue into your folds and you feel as though you could come undone right there. He drags his tongue down from your aching clit to your dripping heat, dipping it in and out. He kitten licks your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud making you scream.

“Ashton!” You moan, grabbing at his head. He groans into your heat as you pull his hair.

He continues to work your button with his tongue as he sticks his finger in your hole. Breathy moans leave your mouth as he ravishes you with his tongue and his fingers. He adds two more fingers, opening you up.

“Ashton! I’m gonna,” your words jumble up as you clench around his fingers.

“Cum for me, Doll. Let go.” Ashton places soft kisses on your face as you come down from your high.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says into your neck as he rubs the tip of his throbbing cock over your soaking folds.

“Ashton,” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pecks your lips.

“Yes, love?”

“I like you, too,” You say. “A lot.”

Ashton lets out a breathy laugh and pecks you on the cheek again before pushing himself into you. You both moan in sync as he pushes in further, going balls deep into you.

“God, Baby. You’re so tight.” He starts fucking you at a steady pace, your nails scraping down his back. Throaty moans and the slapping of skin are all that can be heard in the dark hotel room as your dreams come true.

Ashton dips his head into the crook of your neck, adding more marks that were sure to turn purple tomorrow. He feels you clench around his cock, signaling that you’re close and he throws his head back, closing his eyes. I guess he does look like that when he’s taking you. You almost laugh at your stupid fantasy before your orgasm takes over.

“Ashton!” You scream his name, marking his back. He pulls you through your orgasm before spilling his hot load into you.

He falls back on the bed beside you as you both catch your breaths. He pulls your body close to you and kisses your lips.

“Y/n?” He asks, rubbing his hand up and down your hip.

“Mm,” You mumble, burying your face in his hot chest.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course,” You say, planting a kiss on his lips.

The Next Morning—————————————————

“Good morning, Love,” a voice says beside you, groggy and deep from sleep.

You groan, snuggling impossibly closer to the warm body next to you.

“Too early.”

Ashton chuckles. “It’s 11:30, Love.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you recall the events of last night.

“Time to wake up!” Michael’s voice echoes from the other side of the door.

“Shit shit shit!” You panic, grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around your body.

Michael barges in the door. “I told you it would work!” He says, moving out of the way revealing Luke and Crystal behind him.

“What the fuck are you guys doing!” Ashton yells, pulling your body closer to his and covering your body with the sheets. “And what do you mean ‘it would work?!”

Michael scratches the back of his head. “We kind of made you guys those notes.”

“What?” You ask, thoroughly confused.

“The notes,” Crystal repeats. “The ones you both received last night... telling each other to meet at the pool.”

“You mean..” you look at Ashton. “That wasn’t from you?” Ashton shakes his head as you both erupt into laughter.

“Could you guys please fuck off now?” Ashton says to the three people standing in the middle of your room. They scuffle out, leaving you and Ashton to laugh with each other at their friends' stupidity.

You couldn’t help but smile at the red headed man lying in front of you as you scooted closer to his chest.

“What?” He asks you, eyes crinkling up as he pulls you closer.

“I just really love you.” Your eyes widen as you realize what you just said.

“I love you too,” Ashton says with no hesitation.

[exo-kpopper]

Soulmate

Pairing: Jinho x Unknown

Words: 1k+

Genre: Soulmate, sad ending

2008

Jinho was just about to turn sixteen and he was quite nervous. He really wanted to know what would be his soulmate's first words to him. He would turn officially sixteen in a few minutes and he felt even more nervous. He didn't have any idea of what words could be written on his wrist and that scared him a bit. What if his soulmate hated him at first? What if it didn't work out? It was completely impossible that it wouldn't work out at the end but Jinho couldn't help but overthink. And as he was thinking over and over again, he didn't realize he was now sixteen. After a few minutes, he looked at the clock on his wall on looked nervously at his wrist. What he saw left him confused. It was not in Korean and it was not in English either. He believed it was written in French but he wasn't even sure. He went to look on the internet what it meant and he was right. When he saw the meaning of the words, he blushed a bit and a soft smile grew on his lips. His soulmate wouldn't hate him.

***

The next day, when he arrived at school, he was still very happy. All his friends knew it was his birthday the day before and everybody wondered what was written on his wrist, but the young Jo didn't want to spill the tea. He didn't want everybody to know this, he felt like it was his secret. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep this for him forever but for now, he wouldn't tell anyone.

***

2010

Jinho was now eighteen and he had debuted as a singer in the small group SM The Ballad. He hadn't had a proper debut yet but he was really looking forward to it. He knew his singing was good and he would be able to make many fans. He was really happy but he still had a little void inside of him. A void that only his soulmate would be able to fill and yet, there was no sight of them. Jonghyun, who was the first and only person to know about the words on his wrist, tried to cheer him up but Jinho was becoming more and more hopeless. It had been two years and he still didn't know anyone who would tell him these words. The fact that they were in French also blocked him a bit. However, even though he was losing hope, he kept on looking. He knew he would have his happy ending at some point. It was meant to be after all. So Jinho smiled to himself and kept on practicing his singing. Jonghyun was right, he shouldn't be so worried about it.

***

2016

Jinho had left SM Entertainment for about a year now and he was about to debut in the new boy group of CUBE Entertainment, Pentagon. It had been eight years since the words appeared and he still hadn't found his soulmate but he stopped looking for it, telling himself they would come to him at some point. He wanted to focus on being an idol and he knew he had a lot of effort to put in. All of his members knew about the words. He trusted them enough and he wanted to share everything with them. They were his friends and he felt really close to them, not like the friends he had when he was still in high school. Hoetaek was the one he was the closest to and he was always telling him to keep looking for his soulmate, that this person was waiting for him somewhere. Jinho agreed with him on that but he still decided to keep himself away from searching. He had looked a lot in the last eight years and he didn't want to hurt himself too much. And after all, who would know him enough to tell him THESE words the first time they talk to each other. He laughed a bit to himself and kept on dancing with Hongseok who was showing him some moves he didn't get well. He was now twenty-four years old and he was slowly starting to think that love was a big joke. He was starting to think that it was fake, that it was just a particular tattoo made for him only. Yeah, that was probably it.

***

2018

At this point in his life. Jinho had forgotten about the soulmate's story. When people were asking him about his wrist, he only said he had gotten a tattoo a couple of years ago. It had been ten years already and it ached him to know that he would probably never meet his soulmate, so that's why he decided to keep it in a little corner of his heart and brain. He didn't need any more pain at the moment with the departure of Hyojong from the group. He already felt like he was losing a brother and he didn't want to think about any other pain. He had to be there for the younger members as he was the oldest. He had to be the strongest, not show any pain, not show any tears. He had to be there to help Hoetaek who was not as strong as him to hide his feelings. So again, Jinho put his feelings aside and decided to help his brothers the best way he could. He was not going to let them down. They were a part of his family and he knew they needed him to get through this pain. That's what brothers were for anyway.

***

2019

Sha La La was out for a couple of months now, and they just announced a world tour. They were going to a lot of cities and every member was looking forward to the tour to meet their fans around the world, except An who wasn't able to make it due to his health. Jinho was sad that he wasn't able to follow them but he wanted the best for his younger member. So at the very end of August, they left for their first show in Jakarta. The show went really well and all the members were incredibly happy for the start of the tour. However, Jinho was getting a bit nervous, without really knowing why. So on September second, they were on the plane, on their way to Toronto, where the second show would occur. Jinho was feeling a bit nauseous in the plane. He was really stressed and he didn't know why. He was really excited about the show and he knew he would have fun with the members on stage and the fans cheering for them. He was totally ready for that.

***

They were about to go on stage and all the members were excited. It was time to go in a few minutes. So Hoetaek took all the members aside and smiled at them.

-Okay, we're in Toronto! Let's hit the stage! Just do it yo!

They all screamed in happiness and went on the stage. The beginning of the show went amazingly well and all the members had fun. They were having eye contact with the fans for their pleasure and they had fun talking about anything and whatever. At some point, Jinho looked in the crowd and saw a girl with a huge smile on her face who was sending hearts at him. He smiled and bit and felt his heart jump in his chest. He decided to ignore it and continued having fun with the members. After about three hours the show ended and it was time for the picture and the hi-touch. Once the picture was taken, the members went downstairs and got ready for the hi-touch. Wooseok was the first one in line and Jinho was just after him. The fans went one by one and he gave them soft smiles. And then, he saw the girl he had spotted in the crowd in front of Wooseok. He got a bit nervous and when she arrived in front of him, his breath cut in his throat.

-Je t'aime beaucoup, Jinho.

And there she was, the girl he had been waiting for eleven years of his life, already close to Hoetaek who was the last one as he was still greeting fans, not being able to do anything else. He had to do his job, he had to keep on greeting them. But his heart was incredibly broken. He couldn't show the same smile to the fans. And when they left back to the hotel, Changgu who was sharing his room found him crying in his bed.

-Hyung? What's going on?

-I found her tonight. I found my soulmate.

Jinho knew he would probably never see her again, so after a couple of minutes of crying, he decided to shut down for a while, to only focus on Pentagon. And then, maybe one day he'll be able to look at his wrist with a soft smile on his face, telling himself that his soulmate really is somewhere on Earth...

[sestra-inestro]

My Marvellous

Notes: This is part two of My Amazing. This one is much longer and not exactly written the best but what is? Contains a lot of flashbacks - I’m a sucker for writing them - and it’s focused around the readers life with Steve. I also prefer to name my readers June instead of Y/N, just a bit neater. And the alien species was a species in the Marvel comics but I’ve changed it a bit. And Ugo is inspired by Ghost from GoT, I just needed it.

1. My Amazing

Summary: You say thank you to another parental figure in your life.

Warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS!!Smidge of angst, violence, fluff, talks of Tony Stark.

Steve held your hand tightly through the entire funeral. Your eyes now stung from the amount of tears that had left them but you couldn’t stop them. Pepper placed the wreath onto the water and you watched as the arc reactor surrounded by flowers drifted away on the lake of their home.

You sniffle and take a deep breath and smiled. His sacrifice brought everyone together. Even after everything, everyone still came to honour him. You were proud, proud that his death meant something, proud that he was able to find redemption in the later years of his life for whatever he had done. And proud that he found his happiness.

You were now seated on the chair on the dock, Ugo next to you as you softly stroked his head He had grown a considerable amount since Tony found him. The small ivory puppy was now a big stark white wolf that reached your waist when he stood. He could feel the emotions you let off and never left your side.

“Hey.” You heard a soft voice behind you. You turned your head slowly to see Steve standing behind you.

“Hey.” You offered a soft smile and gestures for him to sit next to you. He placed himself next to you after scratching Ugo behind his ear.

“Just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing?” Steve said.

You looked out at the lake. The sun and clouds reflecting off the water as you remembered the flowers that graced it just hours before.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You said

smoothly.

Steve frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm. “I think seeing everyone say goodbye gave me more closure and understanding.” You smiled to yourself. “I’m happy now.”

Steve smiled at back at you. He pulled his arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him. He kissed your forehead softly and sighed. You really were grown up.

“I might get a tattoo.” You immediately kill his thought.

“Excuse me?” Steve frowned and looked down at you.

You gave him big innocent eyes. “Yeah. Something sweet.” You watched as Steve narrowed his eyes at you. “Maybe a tramp stamp.”

You chuckle as you watch him cringe and pull away from you.

“Never happening.” He told you firmly.

“Yeah I know.” You beamed yo at him.

Steve smile down at you then offered his hand. “C’mon. I need you to help me with something.

-

You now stood in your pyjamas watching Steve get ready to go back and put the stones in their right timelines.

Ugo stood next to you also watching.

“How long is this gonna take?” You asked with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Five seconds for us, however long he needs for him.” Bruce said from behind his station.

You nodded and frowned.

“What?” Steve asked you.

“It just would’ve been cool to see a Guns ‘n’ Roses concert, you know.” You pouted.

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

“Or a Rage Against the Machine. Or Queen! Oh my god a Queen concert.” You were becoming dramatic.m, which made Steve smile more. You were definitely under heavy influence of Tony.

Little you was reaching up the cupboard to try and grab at the record player that was player some of Steve’s old music. He was babysitting you whole Tony was having date night.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Steve moved little hand away from the needle and picked you up. “You could hurt yourself. Or even break the player.”

You crossed your arms and gave him a pout.

“No.” Steve said.

You pouted harder.

“No.” Steve said again, this time more sternly.

You pouted once again, pushing your bottom lip out as far as you could.

“You’re a minx, you are.” He pulled your body to lay in his arms and started to tickle you.

Your little giggles ran through his apartment as you kick and squirm in his grasp.

The buzz to his apartment block sounded and you both stopped and lifted your heads to look at each other with excited expression.

“Pizza time!”

Steve could hear the loud music flowing from your room.

The voice of Freddie Mercury clear as day as you were still going through your Queen phase.

Tony was quite proud of himself as you grew to love the music he showed you. You had non-stop been playing 70s, 80s and 90s rock hits all month.

Suddenly, the music changed to a heavy metal rock sound and lyrics became fast and violent. Steve and Tony lifted their heads and looked at each other, confusion etched across their faces. The door to your room swung open and you waltzed into the kitchen, little Ugo following you with a happy tail and the music still playing.

Steve and Tony watched you carefully as you pulled juice from the fridge.

Steve cringed even more as he heard the foul language the singers were using.

“So...” Steve spike up. You turned your head, looked at him and raised an eyerbrow. “This is an interesting song.”

You smiled at him. “It’s different isn’t it?”

“Very.” Tony added in.

“What’s It called?” Steve asked as you put he juice back and grabbed your cup to head back to your room.

“Violent Pornography.” You said happily and walked passed him.

Steve’s face went pale as those words left your mouth. You were technically only 5, regardless of how old your body said you were. As they heard the door shut again, Steve’s head whipped around to glare at Tony. The man held his hands up in surrender.

“What? I didn’t show her System Of A Down. She found that all by herself.” Tony stuck his tongue out at Steve.

Rhodey’s phone buzzed and your name flashed across the screen. Steve caught a glimpse of your name and his heart lurched. He hadn’t seen you in years. Since he went into hiding after going against the Accords, he knew that you would’ve stayed with Tony. No matter what.

Doesn’t mean he didn’t miss his little girl.

“June, where are you?” Rhodey asked.

Steve could hear your voice through the phone.

“I’m still in DC. I’ll get a private plane to Wakanda but I need you to take Ugo.” Your voice has become just a little deeper. You sounded like a woman. In the years he had missed you, you had grown much more. Now in the body of a twenty-something year old woman.

Rhodey turned from his place on the quinjet to see the big wolf waiting just at the entrance.

“Oh, hell no.” Rhodey protested. “That thing is not coming on the jet.”

Ugo growled at him and you scolded him.

“Be nice.” You told him sternly and Steve smiled. “You know he can’t be at the compound by himself. Just take him with you and I’ll be there soon.” You then hung up.

Ugo didn’t wait for permission and hopped on the jet and huddled himself in a secluded corner.

“Okay, cool.” Rhodey mumbled wearily as the steered clear of the full grown wolf.

-

“Ms Stark’s jet has entered the border.” Shuri’s voice sounded as Steve watched the jet land just before the kingdom.

He couldn’t see her as she walked into the palace but Ugo could sense her as she neared. He became excited and anxious to see her. Steve’s and Ugo’s ears picked up and heels clacked towards them.

The doors were opened and a woman dressed fully in white stepped through, Ugo leapt at her and she bent down to scratch him, back facing the team.

“Hey buddy!” You gleamed at the wolf. “Did you have to ride with the mean little Tin Man? Huh?”

The wolf whined loudly in response, making out how mistreated he was during the ride to Wakanda. Rhodey scoffed from his place next to Steve, making you turn your head to them.

Your face had formed and slimmed down in your body development. You stood and turned to them. You now had more curve to your body and you were a little taller. You were the physical embodiment of a woman and that made Steve’s heart lurch even more. The little girl who grew up around superheroes was now a strong woman who could clearly hold her own.

The entire team stepped closer as you stepped away from Ugo.

“You’re grown.” Steve uttered out.

“And you’re hairy.” You raised an eyebrow. “They don’t shave in Rome?”

Steve chuckled. Tony really rubbed off on you. You oozed his sarcastic comments. And the way you stood in a white pant suit, you took his fashionable influence as well.

You smiled as Nat rushed forward, pushing passed Steve to hug you.

“I missed you.” Nat held you close. Squeezing your neck and her face in your hair.

“I missed you too, Mumma.”

Nat stepped back and smiled so much her eyes squeezed.

Steve held his head low as he stepped towards you. He knew that you would’ve been upset with him when Tony came home after the events in Germany.

He looked at you with sorrowful eyes. The expression on your face was unreadable. He wasn’t sure if you would allow him to hug you or even touch you.

He knew what he did was what he thought was the best thing to do, but it also hurt some people on the way. You, emotionally, being one of them.

“Good to see you, Cap.” You told him, offering a tight smile.

“You too, June.” Steve’s shoulders sagged.

“Captain Rogers.” T’Challa spoke up. “We have hostiles just outside the border. We will need your help.”

Steve straightened up and put on his captain demeanour.

“Team. Suit up.” He said sternly. “Wanda, you stay her with Vision. June, you stay here too.”

“I can help you know.” You told him.

“No. Stay.” Steve have you a look, but you weren’t having it.

“You are not my captain. If it comes to it, I will fight.” Your voice rose and stood up to him.

Steve stopped for a moment. You had never actually yelled at him before. You cried yes, but never went against him. Rhodey placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “She’s good. She can handle herself.” He reassured Steve.

Steve nodded and walked passed him, not having the patience or time to argue with you.

“You got a suit?” Rhodey asked you.

You lifted your wrist to show him your beaded bracelet that Tony made you when your powers developed a year ago.

Rhodey nodded once before following Steve out.

Ugo walked up to you and whimpered slightly.

“We’ll be okay. You can do this.” You reassured him and massaged his ear.

-

Steve was at the end of his rope. The fight had gone on but now they were losing again. The Outriders were overpowering them and Vision and Wanda were out. Thor and his new companions were slowly tiring out. As Steve punches another Outrider away from him, a loud boom rumbled from behind him and shook the ground. Before he could turn around to see what he thought was an explosion, a flash of white shot passed him.

Your scream echoed in his ear as he followed the white streak and saw you. Surrounded by wisps of black energy. You didn’t scream, it was a war cry. Outriders flew backwards as a black transparent force shoved them. Others launched at you and you caught them mid air with your powers and flung them to the side.

One Outrider you caught with your hand and struggled with, while another went to come at you from behind. Before it could get to you Ugo’s snarl sounded and the Outrider was taken away in the jaws of the wolf, who was now much bigger than he had been before. Standing above everyone, Ugo tore into the Outrider splattering it’s blue blood everywhere.

He dropped the Outrider and you sent a massive wave of black energy to hold up a barrier and send them flying back.

Slowly, you turned to Steve. Your eyes were pitch black with power, you had a hard expression and blue blood stained your suit.

Steve now understood. You could on your own in the battle field. He accepted.

He nodded at you and raised an eyebrow. You held up your hand and closed your fist, the bracelet lighting up and creating a highlighted invisible force over your body. A protective suit.

“Let’s go.” Steve said and you two ran together into the Outriders with Ugo behind you.

You stood with the Secretary of State. Secretary Ross always got on your nerves, ever since his smug face gave your family the Accords.

“Ms June Stark, please tell me why we shouldn’t arrest you and Captain Rogers.” He asked you. “Because as far as I know, you and your family of heroes is the reason everyone disappeared.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re not going to arrest us because we are your last hope.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “You think you are the only one who lost people. News flash. Everyone did.” You crosses your arms. Natasha also had a strong influence on you.

You were standing between him and Steve. Ross glared down at you, he knew he couldn’t do anything. All his authority went out the window when he walked into the room.

“You know, you don’t look like an eight year old.” Ross smirked at you.

“I don’t punch like one either.” You warned him. “Leave me and my family alone, and let us help the world.” You pointed at him with a blue bloodied finger before turning, grabbing Steve’s arm and walking out of the room.

“Thank you, June.” Steve muttered.

You stood on the new spaceship with everyone, preparing to go after Thanos. Since Tony came back you’ve been losing yourself in your thoughts. You thought you lost him amongst the victims of the Snap and you were emotional.

Unbeknownst to you, Rocket was staring up at you. He knew you were alien, and he had a feeling he knew what type of alien. And you didn’t.

Without thinking, he pulled out a little knife and gave your arm a little slice.

You gasped and held your arm, looking down at him.

Fast, you punched the raccoon is the face and away from you.

“Hey!” Steve said in warning as he stepped in front of you and glared at Rocket.

“You don’t know what you are, you do.” Rocket groaned as he stood back up.

Steve turned to you to check out your arm, seeing it was healing itself fast and fine.

The green blood disappearing.

“What are you talking about?What is she then?” Steve growled at Rocket.

“Your species was wiped out by Ebony Maw a few years ago. I remember because I was there. You’re powers didn’t develop until your body reached twenty, right?” Rocket said, getting closer to you.

Steve still had a firm grip on your arm. He looked at you, sad. Your real family had died at the hands of someone who took your other father figure to space.

You nodded at the raccoon.

“You’re an Agullo. And you are the last of your kind.”

Steve turned and studied your face, seeing the skepticism in your expression and the stubbornness.

You looked him in the eyes with tears in yours. He rubbed your arm softly.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m sure they would’ve been amazing.” Steve said to you as you pouted. “Maybe later on we can go time travelling.”

You grinned at him and nodded.

You had taken the time to process Tony’s death and you were okay. He was confident that you were going to continue to be okay. With new friends and more influences. You’d be okay.

“See you in a bit.” Steve winked at you.

“And going in 3...2...1.” Bruce counted down and pressed his button.

The portal took Steve quickly and you waited from Bruce to count again.

“Junie.” Morgan’s small voice said from behind you.

“Yeah?” You turned and looked at her.

“Can you help me with this please?” Morgan lifted up a piece of paper.

“I sure can.” You walked into the house and followed her.

After helping Morgan you walked back outside to see Steve. Only to see nothing, the portal still closed and Bruce standing at his station.

“Where is he?” You asked.

Bruce looked at you and smiled. He pointed behind you and you turned and saw Bucky and Sam with an older man walking towards you.

The old man was holding a backpack and Sam was holding Steve’s shield.

“What?” You uttered in confusion.

You looked at the old man to see a familiar pair of blue eyes.

“Steve?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Hey there, minx.” The old man smiled. “I missed you.”

You frowned and tilted your head, processing the scene in front of you.

“What happened to just...” You looked at the portal and turned back to him. “coming back?”

Steve gave a tired chuckle. “You could say I found a reason to stay.”

“Yeah, well now you look one hundred.” You gesture to the new found wrinkles around his eyes, which made all the men chuckle.

“Well I did bring something back for you.” Steve opened the backpack and took out a red and white king crown.

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Is that...” Your mouth hung open and you couldn’t finish your sentence.

“The crown of the one and only Freddie Mercury.” Steve started proudly, holding out the crown.

“You stole it?” You asked incredulously.

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Tossed it right into the crowd during a concert in 1986.”

You gasped again. “You went to a Queen concert?!”

Steve smiled at your excitement.

“Here.” He offered you he crown.

You carefully held onto the crown and took it into your hands, gleaming at it.

“This was on Freddie Mercury’s head. And Roger Taylor’s!” You squealed.

“Am I forgiven?” Steve asked you.

“Oh, you are so forgiven.” You grinned at him and started to back away with the crown to show Pepper. “Hell, you can go back and do it again if you want. Bring me some more stuff?”

Steve smiled and shook his head and Bucky and Sam laughed at you. Bruce shook his head as he knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of your excitement any time soon.

“Maybe George Michael’s earring? Slash’s top hat?” You gasped at yourself. “I want that hat.”

Steve laughed again. He was glad.

You stopped in your tracks and ran back towards him. Being careful of his new frail body, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug. One he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

He lifted his arms and hugged you tightly.

“Thank you, dad.” You smiled up at him.

He smiled back down at you, little tears forming in his old eyes.

“No, thank you, minx.”

Part 3

[wwevampireamongkpop]

A Battle of Giants P2

Pairing: Selene (OC) x Sheamus (former), future Selene x Damian Priest, Hunter(Triple H), Matt Riddle

A/N: This took a bit longer to get written up. 

Tag List: @evilangel84 @gold--gucciempress @tacoshu @ladytea19 @the-carter-mob-don 

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

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A few months went by after signing her new contract with Hunter to be on NXT. Contact with Sheamus was next to nothing but Selene didn’t mind it. Instead of worrying about where that “relationship” stood, she focused all her energy on getting back into the ring as soon as she could without any setbacks.

Selene started her day like she has the past few weeks, at the Performance Center. She has been spending most of her time in the weight room working on building her strength. She was looking forward to start working in the ring for her return, just waiting on the doctors to clear her.

From what Hunter told her, she was going to be the fifth member of the NXT women’s Survivor Series if everything was on track. From what she heard, everything was on track which made everyone happy.

Selene had her hair pulled up into a messy bun. Her earbuds in and listening to an audio book, one of her favorite books by Christine Warren Black Magic Woman. She knew it was pretty risky to listen to the story as it unfolded when anyone can come up and try to talk to her. It didn’t help that she has thought countless times about being half of the main couple all while thinking that the Archer of Infamy, Damian Priest, was the other half of that couple.

She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She focused on the weights in her hands all while carefully doing lunges. If she hadn’t looked up when she did, she wouldn’t have caught sight of Damian working out. He was starting to work up a sweat and his skin started to glow. In that moment, she decided to call it a day in the weight room.

Unfortunately for Selene, she had to walk right pass Damian to leave the weight room. She grabbed her towel and decided to act as if she didn’t see him. She walked passed him and as if her body had a mind of its own, her hips swayed from side to side with a bit of sass. This was kinda a first for her, she never really got nervous around a guy. Well she got nervous around Sheamus but she chalked that up to be lust. Damian was a whole different kind of beast, he was only an inch taller but he had long hair like Roman and tattoos that littered his skin.

Selene shook her head, ridding herself the thought that Damian was a beast. A thought she didn’t need while she was around a dozen or so other people. As she walked out of the weight room, she practically ran into Hunter.

“Oh lord, sorry Hunter. I didn’t see you there.” She felt so small standing next to Hunter.

“It’s ok, Selene. I was just coming to look for you.” A look of confusion or even wonder took over her face. “I wanted to let you know that our doctors have medically cleared you this morning. Which means you can start preparing for your comeback.” He couldn’t help but smile down at her. He knew that this was something that she was waiting to hear.

“This is the best news I heard all day.” She couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. Am I getting a training partner or are you going to be helping me?”

“Actually, I’ll be watching over your training sessions.” He looked over her head into the weight room, thinking of who could be Selene’s training partner. He looked over at Matt Riddle.

Selene noticed that he was looking at someone and turned to look at who he was looking at. When her eyes landed on Riddle, she turned back to Hunter. “There is no way in hell I’m working with Riddle. Can’t I work with Rhea or Candice or even Dango or Breeze. Hell I’d would rather work with Breeze and Dango, they know how I move in the ring.”

“Sorry Selene, I had already talked to Riddle and he gladly accepted to help you.” Selene clearly didn’t look happy with this decision. “Don’t look so sad. Think of it as a way to kick his ass like I can see you want to do.” “I’ll work with him on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“His dumb ass is wearing shoes. I ain’t gonna work with him on my training if he is bare foot.” She gave him a pointed look.

“I’ll see what I can do about that. You know he likes..”

“I honestly don’t care if he likes to wrestle in a monkey suit. He is wearing shoes or I will find someone, by myself, to train with.”

Little did Selene know that some of the people in the weight room heard her. They all knew better than to raise their voice even a little to Hunter. Clearly Selene’s tone didn’t faze Hunter which shocked everyone.

“Fine. If he does anything you don’t like, to a reasonable degree, you can tell him to get lost.”

“Thank you, Hunter.” She nodded at him before walking by him.

As she walked away she could hear the annoyingly familiar sound of skin hitting sandals. Clearly Riddle started to follow her down the hall. Her nerves were starting to go on edge, just the sound of his sandals were annoying.

“Yo Selene.” His voice caused her to wince in annoyance.

“What Riddle.” She turned and looked up at the man before her, annoyance clear on her face.

“Woah, calm down bro.”

“First of all. I ain’t your bro.” She used air quotes when she said the word bro. “Second, I want you to know that I do not like you. So if at any time you say something I find stupid during training, I will not hesitate to throw a kick or punch you in the face.”

“Hey now, there is no need for violence.” He held his hands up as if he was surrendering while she stared at him like she was ready to stab him. “I just wanted to talk to you about your wrestling style so I can help you train.”

“Well, I do a mix of a lot of things. You’ll just have to wait till tomorrow to find out.” She looked down at her phone, at the time. “I have plans right now so I don’t have time to really talk about it.”

 “Ok, we can talk about it tomorrow then.”

“How about you watch some old PPV’s and what’s on the network to get a feel for what I do.” She started to walk away. “I’ll be in in the morning so we can start then.”

Damian walked up and stood next to Matt. His eyes locked on Selene as she walked away. He looked her small frame up and down, taking in the way she walked further from them. His noticed a piece of a tattoo poking out from the bottom of her sports bra/top. He thought for a moment as to what the tattoo might be but his attention was pulled away by the man next to him.

“Someone is full of herself.” Matt looks at the direction Selene went. “Telling someone who just asked about their wrestling style to go watch what’s on the Network, like that can really help. You know what I mean, bro.”

“Honestly, she doesn’t seem full of herself.” He looked slightly down at Matt. “She is confident in her move set which doesn’t surprise me.”

“Bro, were you listening to her or were you checking her out?” He smirked a little before he continued. “If you really want to see her in action, come watch us train tomorrow.”

The thought never really crossed his mind. This was the same woman who bumped into him several months ago when she had a cast on her leg. He honestly didn’t think she was going to be this sassy or maybe she just didn’t like Matt, which wouldn’t be a surprise since not everyone can handle his personality. The thought of watching her in her element would be interesting to see. Seeing as Finn had mentioned something about her in-ring split personality.

“I might have to take you up on that.” Damian tied his hair up and walked towards the locker room. Thinking of what the little spitfire Selene had in store for Matt tomorrow.

[starlightsoulwriting]

Constellations Against Skin

n.t. “You hold him in your arms, a thousand stars in the bones of a man, and nobody could have thought you’d come so close to holding constellations against your skin.”

Dean Winchester X Reader; Castiel X Reader

Soulmate AU

[AO3] [Chapter List]

Two: Awake

You faded in and out of awareness for a day. Nurses moved around your room, taking your vital signs and redressing your wounds. Everything was fuzzy and floaty, like there was fog between you and the rest of the world. You heard voices, fading in and out. People you knew. There was a warm presence next to you - it felt like cherry pie and cedar-smoke. Like home. You reached out for it.

There were so many thoughts and feelings where you were. The energy was so jumbled and sad and sinking. Hope and despair and relief and worry and pain in a horrible emotion soup forced down your throat and into your lungs. It was too much.

At some point you thought you dreamt of an empty, echoing church and a boy with green eyes.

Your soulmark felt horrible on your ribs, the burning threatening to pull sobs from your throat even in your sleep. So much of you hurt.

It was that pain that woke you up.

You groaned, opening your eyes and blinking against the lone, dim light buzzing above a sink. The small room smelled strongly of disinfectant and linen. Shuffling noises echoed in the hall and a soccer game played lowly on TV. Voices on an intercom would occasionally interrupt the quiet, unobtrusive sound around you with loud beeps and cracking microphones.

Your head was cloudy, but you were aware enough to be yourself - even if your brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton instead of thoughts. You had no idea how you got in this hospital room - and it was clearly a hospital room. You... didn’t remember anything after you took out the werewolf. Were you still in Wyoming? How much time had passed? Had you been in a car accident?

Wires and tubes stuck onto and into your body made it hard to move. You recognized the IV, EKG, and Oxygen mask but the rest of it was foreign to you. You wanted to get up and walk around, but were afraid you would wind yourself into knots. Besides, sharp pain shot through your whole body whenever you moved. You didn’t think you were going anywhere. It was worse than you were used to, and you were used to pain.

You reached out for the ‘call nurse’ button, but one of your hands wasn’t moving the way it should’ve. You looked down - your non-dominant hand was in a cast, your pinky, ring, and middle finger wrapped in gauze, leaving you with a lobster claw instead of a hand. The blue wrapping had a warding sigil written on it in sharpie - one that you had as a tattoo. Why had someone put that there? You didn’t need it twice. Your right leg was wrapped all the way up your thigh with fiberglass, and you couldn’t move it for the life of you. A frustrated sigh left you before you could help yourself. Just your luck.

You felt like you came down with a very bad cold and then ran into a wall face-first.

Every part of you that you could see was covered in bandages. A mask covered your mouth and nose; you could feel the faint tickle of oxygen coming through and brushing against your nostrils. There was even a fucking tube in your throat. You could feel it chafe every time you moved - it came out your nose and you had to stop yourself from gagging around it every other second. It gave you the worst sore throat you’d ever had on steroids.

The nurse better haul ass, you wanted this thing gone.

And your ribs, holy shit. Was that extremely painful or completely numb? Hell if you knew.

You stretched uncomfortably, choking back a grunt of pain as you reached for the remote that was just a little bit out of your reach.

A sharp intake of breath came from the door and something light hit the floor.

You turned to see none other than Dean Winchester - a man you’d been wanting to meet since you were fourteen, when you met John the second time. He’d been all too happy to shut that idea down quick, though. He hadn’t even wanted you around himself at the time, let alone his kids - a fact that never changed even after you started hunting in earnest around the same time Dean had. Didn’t need his sons meeting the freak, right?

John’s rejections had always hurt more than you were willing to admit.

You recognized Dean from the photos, though - more recent ones, and from the familiar soul thrumming through him. Different than his father’s gunsmoke and whiskey, yes, but the threads were there - you knew a Winchester when you felt one. Dean felt like campfires and old cars. A pine forest on a summer night.

You flushed scarlet. Of course when you finally met your dead friend’s hot son you looked like a drowned cat that got hit by a bus. (You felt like that too). You were injured to hell, but you had eyes - and you were in a hospital bed. There was no way you could flirt with him like this. Who the hell flirted while they were in the hospital?

This fucking sucked.

You made a pointed effort to avoid looking in his head. You didn’t need to hear his thoughts, they were probably just filled with the general hunter concern tinged with curiosity that you felt yourself when working a case. You didn’t have your necklace, which you’d enchanted and blessed yourself, so you were getting a metric shit-ton of the disjointed brain chatter and stray emotions it would normally keep away. The drugs dulled your senses somewhat, so it was more like cafeteria noise than legible thoughts, thank god. You would just have to not focus on him too much. Easy.

It wasn’t easy, he was very attention-grabbing.

Wait.

Were you a case?

Dean just looked at you in shock and then at the cheap coffee he’d spilled on the floor.

“Hey,” He gave an uneven smile before crossing the room to the sink and grabbing a few paper towels. “Bobby’ll be glad you’re awake.”

“Bobby’s here?” . You lowered your face mask to speak. That hurt more than it should’ve. Your throat was dry as hell, and your voice came out in a harsh, cracking whisper around the feeding tube.

You felt like crying. Had he been worried about you? How did he even know where you were? Had the hospital gone through your things?

You’d really missed him.

Dean coughed and looked away from you. Of course he would - he probably didn’t know how to deal with a random crying chick more than any other hunter. Which is to say, not at all. You blinked away your tears for the sake of both your pride.

“Yeah, he’s asleep back at the motel. Stayed here all night.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “He only agreed to go back if someone stayed here with you.”

You sighed, settling back into the lumpy hospital pillow. “Can you get the thingy?” You pointed at the Call Nurse button. You were not stretching like that again, your whole body felt like it was on fire and underwater.

What drugs had they given you?

He nodded again, handing you the remote. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“I know,” You rasped, with a wink that hurt way too much to make. Very sexy of you. “Nice to finally meet you.”

That caught him off guard, apparently. He gave you a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised comically higher than the other. You would think this man had never been flirted with by a grievously injured monster hunter before.

His deer-in-a-headlights look was cute, though.

You figured you should explain yourself. “John never let me anywhere near you and Sam, even when he kept telling me how great y'all are. Always figured it would be cool meeting a hunter my own age, though.” You gave the best, genuine smile you could muster and held out your good hand. “I’m (Y/n).”

He shook your hand, and you had to stop yourself pulling away in shock. Your energy had leapt out at his and latched on, sending a blush straight to your face and a warm, tingly feeling to your soulmark.

It’d never done that before.

You both yanked your hands away, looking away from each other.

Had he felt that too? He must’ve, right? If his flustered expression and red ears were anything to go by, then yes, he had.

Great, as if you weren't already a freak.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll go call Bobby. He’ll want to know you’re up.” He started, walking backwards toward the door. You nodded, hugging yourself as best you could and kept your eyes firmly planted on the wall. “I, um - I got your message, by the way.”

“What?” Your eyes shot up to meet his, confused You didn’t have his phone number. Was he talking about the polaroid of John you mailed Bobby to give the boys?

“Oh,” He waved you off, still walking backwards. He tripped on the trash can. “Nothing. You know what? Forget I said that.” And he left, pulling out his cell phone.

But you saw the sigil scratched on his hand - the same one that was on your cast. The same one that hid you from demons. One from your personal collection of Enochian seals. The one you hadn’t seen any other hunter ever use ever.

That’s sure interesting. You wondered idly if that’s what he thought your message was. But, as far as you knew, you couldn’t do something like that.

The nurse rushed in only a minute or two later, interrupting your thoughts, and looking absolutely beside herself. She didn't let Dean back in for a while, because right after her came the bedraggled Dr. Reyes, whose hair was threatening to escape her bun and run away. Apparently you were the biggest case in the hospital and she had just been… waiting for you to wake up.

The tests she ran were annoying, but you slogged through them all the same.

You could follow the pen with your eyes fine, your pupils were dilating fine, you knew it was 2006, and you didn’t seem to have any memory problems.

And nobody was answering any of your questions. Dr. Reyes just vaguely said there was an accident but refused going into detail, asking how much pain you were in when you pressed further. A different nurse than earlier brought in a new IV stand, hooking it up and handing you a button. Pain drip, she’d said - press when you needed more meds.

You pressed it as often as the damn thing let you.

Dr. Reyes agreed to take out the feeding tube shoved down your throat, but only after you proved you could hold down meals. And that meant you had to wait at least until after lunch, if not dinner. Boo.

You resisted the temptation to look at their thoughts to figure out what was going on. You hated, hated, hated doing it on purpose. It felt intrusive and gross to reach into somebody’s head like that and pull out what you wanted. Like prying a snail out of its shell.

And it reminded you too much of your time in New York.

When she was done looking you over, Dr. Reyes sat down on her rolling stool and leveled you with a serious look, face sad and empathetic but no-nonsense. “You don’t remember what happened?” She sighed when you shook your head, but continued. “Would you like me to tell you what happened, or would you like your family to come talk to you? I can come back later and explain everything medically if you’d prefer it that way.”

You swallowed, fear spiking in your chest at her tone. Bobby had brought at least Dean with him, and you had no reason to believe Sam hadn't followed. Why would he do that if it wasn’t something bad? This was serious, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t have brought back up if it wasn’t. If it was a normal case he would’ve come alone.

Did you want Bobby to tell you?

Yes, yes you did.

He’d been there after your parents died, and for most of your teenage years; he’d already seen you at your worst.

So you waited a few minutes for the nurse - Callie, her tag said - to get him from the waiting room. He’d apparently gotten there just a few minutes after Dean called him. Dr. Reyes left with the promise of coming back in an hour or so to go over your chart and explain all your injuries, wires, and treatment options.

Bobby looked like he hadn't slept in a week. You weren’t the only one who looked like a drowned cat, apparently. He squeezed your good hand for a second and pulled up what you were sure was a horribly uncomfortable plastic chair. He gave you a sad smile - which made you feel worse, nerves rising in your chest even more. He was never this soft-looking. “How you doing, kid?”

You just shrug weakly, making sure not to move too much, and acting more nonchalant than you felt. “Confused.” You murmur, before looking away and biting your lip, wanting to curl in on yourself but unable to, pain singing in your muscles at your attempt. You hit the pain button again and huffed when it made a beep that meant you’d already gotten your next dose. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

He sighed and sounded centuries old. You felt bad for asking him to come in, for making him so tired. You wanted to make him turn around and get some sleep. To stop worrying about you so much. But he would give you a better idea of what happened than the doctor could, if this was related to a hunt. And you had a sinking feeling it was.

“I think that’s a good thing, champ.”

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, searching his face for answers. He just looked exhausted. And you felt just how drained he was. How frustrated, how angry. Heavy.

You felt like a little kid again, waiting for him to tell you why your house had been set on fire. Small, and confused, and clueless. “What happened to me, Bobby?” You breathed, voice small.

You were suddenly afraid to hear the answer.

“Alioth found you. Hurt you real bad,” He started, and you took in a sharp breath that stung your ribs like a bitch.

That stupid demon had been after you for years. But you’d exorcised him last year. He’d never been able to crawl out of hell so fast. You normally had two years of freedom from him at least. Bile rose in your throat and you wanted to run anywhere but where you were. He could be anywhere now.

Had he been exorcised? Were you still in danger? How had he found you?

Who had saved you if it wasn’t Bobby? Because it sure as hell hadn’t been Bobby, you could feel as much. Did you save yourself? You doubted that, as much as you wanted to believe you’d been able to kick his ass all by yourself.

You needed to leave now.

Bobby put his hand lightly on your arm and you jumped, eyes going wide. “You're safe now. Me, Sam and Dean are gonna find the son of a bitch and send him back to hell if he so much as breathes in this direction.”

You just nod stiffly, staring at the wall, frozen in the sitting position you had bolted into in your panic. “How bad is it?”

“Well, I think you should ask your doctor that-”

“Bobby.” You didn’t have time for this.

Would you be able get discharge papers or would you have to sneak out yourself? Could you even sneak out like this?

“Your insides are fine, besides the fact that your heart’s real stressed out.” He sighed again, clearly either oblivious of your impending panic or hoping it would go away by itself. “You’re going to have a lot of scars, though, kid. I’m sorry.”

You forced yourself to breathe. To think, to let that sink in. You looked straight ahead and tried not to imagine what you looked like under your bandages. You would listen to the doctor first, figure out how to handle your wounds, and then get discharged against medical advice. For sure. You could do that. That was a plan.

You didn’t cry.

You refused to cry. Not for your vanity, and not out of fear. It was part of the life, nothing you haven't dealt with before. It’s not like you had anyone to impress, anyway. You were tough, you told yourself, it didn’t matter. And you had three hunters with you. If a demon so much as sneezed there would be a lightning storm, and they would help you get out of here before he found you again.

Not like you would be hard to find, given how much everybody seemed to be talking about you.

"What day is it?" You changed the subject, stubborn to avoid your freak-out. You could drive three states away and follow up with someone there by the time anyone realized you were gone. No need to hyperventilate. It was just the thing that killed your parents. No big deal.

"July tenth. Monday. A bartender walking home heard fighting and called 911 the night before last." He looked at you hesitantly, like he’s afraid of what he could hear. "So what… Do you remember?"

You had to shut your eyes to think past the blank spots in your mind. It was hard - you felt all floaty from the meds, thoughts slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Everytime you thought you latched onto something you hit empty, gaping holes where the memory should be.

So you found the very last solid memory, and focused.

A gunshot.

Yellow eyes going dark. A body falling to the floor. Cleaning up a scratch on your shoulder. Putting weapons away in your Mustang.

"Finishing a wolf hunt." You croak, wishing you could get yourself some water. "After that there's nothing." You shook your head, frustrated, and run your hand through your hair.

"Do you know where you might've been heading?” Bobby pressed. “A motel, a store, a bar?"

"A bar." The memory flashes. You'd wanted a drink. "The country-themed one by the book store. It was crowded."

--

"Dude, I wanna ride the bull."

"Dean, you're not riding the bull."

"Not now, obviously," Dean said on their way past the machine and toward the back of the bar. It was empty, a little past three o'clock in the afternoon, and the place had just opened. The mechanical bull was mocking him, artificial red eyes glowing under the tin-can lights. "When we finish the case." He heard Sam's annoyed huff and chose to ignore it. He was obviously just too intimidated to try and didn’t want Dean to upstage him. Duh.

Dean flashed his FBI badge at the bartender, and his brother did the same before speaking. "I'm Agent Wright with the FBI; this is my partner Agent Mason. We're here about the attack Saturday night. We have reason to believe the victim was here earlier in the night."

That was Dean's cue to pull out an polaroid Bobby had given them, sliding it onto the counter. It was from last year. A headshot. You were smiling and covered in grey mud, just after you’d wiped off your face with your sleeve, your arm still pressed against your cheek. Your hair and shirt were trashed. There'd been some spell ingredient you were digging up and it rained the night before, but you hadn’t been letting that stop you. You sent pictures to Bobby pretty often, apparently, though Dean had never noticed. Maybe he had them all hidden in a box somewhere?

Oh, he was so snooping when they got back.

The man behind the counter - his name tag labeled him as David - shrugged after eyeing the photo for a moment. "I wasn't in on Saturday," He nodded to the back. "Duncan was though, I'll go get him."

Sam nodded. "Please do."

"David and Duncan, huh?" Dean muttered when the man was out of earshot. "As if this place needed any more D-bags."

Sam made a choked noise, leaving Dean with a wry grin. The worse his brother reacted to a joke the better he'd done, in Deans humble opinion. Half the fun of road trips was torturing him. Captive audience.

Duncan came out and crossed his arms, apparently swapping places with David. He was standing maybe a little too tall, puffing his chest a bit too much. He didn’t look happy to see them. "You think that girl who got attacked was here?"

"Considering she said so, yeah," Dean said, nodding at the polaroid. "So?"

Duncan took a moment, squinting. "Maybe." He shrugged. "She might've been the rum and coke I had around nine-thirty, but I can't be sure." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The place was packed, dude. I could barely keep up with orders, let alone remember every single face. "

What a beacon of empathy.

Sam and Dean just looked at each other. "Do you have security cameras?" Sam asked.

"You’ll have to ask the boss." He waved them off, making to leave.

Sam cleared his throat, stopping him. “Then go get them, please.”

Back at the motel, Sam worked his laptop open and Dean studied a map of the small highway town - seeing if there were other cameras they could track your path with. He was circling businesses and intersections along the shortest route between the bar and the paper mill where you'd been found.

He'd been careful to hide his hand from view while they'd been out - he didn't need randos thinking he was satanic.

It had been a shock, waking up with the sigil scratched into his hand. But Bobby reasoned that it was a message, somehow. It was the same tattoo you got on your leg - the one the demon burned through. As far as Bobby knew it was a kind of ward - made it hard for demons to track anyone wearing it.

It freaked Dean out, personally. You'd been unconscious and ten blocks away from him and you left him with that? It gave him the heebs and the jeebs. He was really looking forward to eavesdropping on Sam's inevitable conversation about psychic powers with you.

But Dean drew it on your cast nonetheless. Your protection had been stripped away, and he didn’t see a reason not to give it back to you.

And that wasn’t even mentioning whatever the hell happened when you shook hands. It felt embarrassing, somehow. Vulnerable, like whatever that energy was had shot through all his walls and shone a light on his insides. You’d seemed just as surprised as him and he didn’t like that one bit.

"Got him," Sam said suddenly from across the table, flipping the laptop around so Dean could see the feed - the camera at the back exit of the bar. A guy in a suit - the dead guy they had yet to get an autopsy report for - held you by one arm and shoved you into the alley, making you almost fall on your face. You weren’t reacting at all, just letting him push you around. He could see the shakes in your legs, though. Why weren’t you doing anything?

Then Dean saw the gun in his hand. Great.

"The place was packed, right?" Sam started, and Dean knew where he was going with this. "He must've gotten the drop in her."

Dean sighed, running a hand down his face. He should’ve gotten a drink when he could’ve. "Everybody in there was a hostage and the dumb bastards didn't even notice."

Sam just nodded. "I mean, it's smart. If she starts something, he can either play the victim or start shooting people."

He kicked Sam’s shin under the table. "Don't compliment the demon, Sam!"

"I'm not complimenting the demon!” He kicked back. “I'm just wondering how we would handle it. With all those people in danger."

Dean held his arms out in a ‘duh’ gesture. "Wait until you’re in a dark alley and then fuck him up when there’s no one he can hurt."

Sam hummed judgmentally at him.

"What?"

"This is from the bookstore’s footage." Sam turned the laptop around again to a different alley.

It started the same as before - the demon pushing you along. But after a second you elbowed the guy in the face, grabbing the gun from his belt in the same move. Before you could do more, he fisted a hand into your hair and shoved you against the brick wall. He made to punch you, but you ducked and kneed him in the balls, making the demon let go of you and double over. You grabbed his head and kneed him again, this time in the face. Three times, actually - Dean could see dark blood spatter onto the concrete below you.

And then you punched him in the stomach and ran, legs wobbling dangerously.

You made it all the way to the end of the alley. But the demon reached its hand out and you froze, entire body going stiff. You stood stock-still for a breath. Then your body jerked backward, flying through the air and landing you bodily against the demon's chest. He didn't look happy.

He dragged you out of frame.

"Looks like she thought so, too, Dean." Sam was wearing his bitchface.

What was his problem? Had he not slept again?

"What do you want me to say?" Dean aggressively opened a beer. "Oh, boo hoo, we're fucked if some bastard tries that? We fight, dude, even when the odds are shit. (Y/n) obviously thought so too."

Sam shrugged. "I was thinking more along the lines of ideas."

Dean groaned at his brother.

This fucking case.

--

It was later - much later, after you’d had bland hospital food and proved you could hold down meals. Callie had already pulled the tube from your throat, thank god. You’d gagged around it and thrown up on the floor, but she told you it was normal, to not worry about it, but you were embarrassed anyway, pulling the scratchy blankets over yourself and curling up as much as you could. You were able to keep the rest of the food down after that, though. You hid in your blanket cocoon as long as you could manage.

Screw the tube.

You were leaving in less than an hour, and would be in the back of your Mustang on your way to Bobby’s. Dr. Reyes was understandably concerned for your wounds, but you would rather leave now than risk Alioth finding you. If you needed to, you could check in to a new place in South Dakota. As long as it was away from here it didn’t matter.

Callie started changing your bandages one last time before you left, making sure you knew which wounds needed what kind of wrapping, that it would all be in the follow-up file they would send with you and on and on. You had to try stupidly hard to remember it all, but it was better than staying in this place, so you endured, partially comforted by the fact that it would all be written down.

Dr. Reyes had made it clear that ‘Someone’ (Alioth) had taken a torch to your soulmark. You’d been trying not to think about it while you waited for discharge, mindlessly playing the sudoku book Sam, who you liked almost instantly, brought by after lunch. He was smart and kind - and he offered to help you when you were out of the hospital, that he could stay in Bobby’s other spare room. Although, he did seem relieved when you let him know you wouldn’t need it. You had enough money to hire a nurse to come around once a day to help you change your bandages. Being psychic made you a very good poker player.

The worry about your soulmark was there all afternoon, though, despite the idle distractions you made for yourself.

You asked to look at it when Callie was changing the wrapping.

You know, like an idiot.

You could still feel it under the pain and numbness. It wasn’t so shallow a connection that it was dependent on the skin above it. It was in your soul, after all, and the mark was just the spiritual made physical. It wouldn’ matter if it was damaged. You would be fine.

You repeated that to yourself as the Callie brought you a hand mirror, and held it so you could see the left side of your ribcage.

You almost screamed.

Your entire soulmark was gone.

Completely. Gone.

All of it, replaced with a swath of discolored, grafted skin. The only bit left were thin, decorative wisps that barely brushed beyond the edges of your graft. But the important part - the name - the strange name written in a dead language that kept you waiting for miracles when there were none to be found - it was gone.

You fought against any tears that were forming and stubbornly tried to avoid your feelings. This was stupid. It was just a pretty word on your side, you shouldn’t be so upset. You could still feel the warm glow of your connection, you would be fine. But there was still a gaping sinkhole in your chest.

It was thirty seconds before a tidal wave of grief hit you.

You crumpled in on yourself with a shriek, whole body wracked with painful, painful sobs that shook your frame and made all the hurting ten times worse. It felt like a part of you had been ripped out and thrown in the trash. Like a part of your soul was torn out with a rusty ice cream scoop, leaving raw, torn edges. An empty, burning, ache rose in your chest and pushed out everything else, hollowing out your lungs and filling them up with a burning saltwater nebula.

There was a reason only serial killers went after soulmarks.

“It’s okay, honey, don’t you worry, okay? Marks are stubborn. Everything will be just fine in a few months, just you wait,” Callie shushed you through your snotty sobs and brought you tissues, trying her best to be reassuring as she hastily re-bandaged your side. “I’ve seen them regrow over scars, or somewhere else altogether, it’ll just take some time.”

But that hadn’t been the point.

Alioth wanted to hurt you and it had worked. It was violating and ruthless and it just felt so wrong to the core of your being.

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you did nothing at all, opting to stare at the ceiling and let yourself grow numb as Callie changed the rest of your bandages. The roaring sea subsided eventually, leaving nothing but fog in its wake. You were empty.

You didn’t ask to look at the rest of your grafts and cuts. The room was quiet against the background shuffle of the hospital. You didn’t say goodbye to Callie when she left.

You shut your eyes as tight as you could and returned to the cocoon of your blankets, eyes still burning with fresh tears.

I’m so sorry, Castiel.

Wherever you are.

A/N: I’m actually pretty proud of this story for once. I’m so excited to get to the good bits, we just have to get through the setup! So, let me know what you think so far! I’d love to hear some feedback. Anyone else out there a hoe for Dean Winchester? Cause I am! Who boy, and just wait until Cas shows up!

Until next time, thanks for reading!

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Moth Work Intro + False Idol | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth! 

Today I thought I’d do a writing update on a project I’ve mentioned a lot in my vlogs but haven’t mentioned as of yet on here! This is a personal ‘passion project’ that I’ve been picking away at since January and have recently taken on as my transition project from Rewired to my next book.

So yee! MOTH WORK (or ‘boys on a boat’ for those who keep up with the vlogs lols) has been my current project for the last few weeks since finishing REWIRED. I didn’t really mean to expand it as much as I have as it simply started off as a spinoff story of my boys Lonan and Harrison which I write every few months when I’m having a breakdown and need something to cheer me up. :-)

I’ve mentioned a few of these stories in the past (like Fishbowl and Mandarin), though this story is a bit different, as I’ve expanded it quite a lot more than I intended to! If you aren’t super caught up with Rewired, I’d definitely scroll through a few of my last updates so this one will make more sense! 

What’s it about? 

Moth Work is a FOSTERED spinoff story following Lonan and Harrison (dumb+dumber) at the peak of their relationship. I *was saying* that the plot went loosely as follows: after finding a photograph of a woman in Lonan’s father’s dark room, they set out to find her, HOWEVER, because I never stick to plans, I have yet to follow through with this main plot thread, lol. Vaguely, I’d just say the most important part of this story is their relationship at its most fragile because who is plot I don’t know her. 

Moth Work follows the events after REWIRED, and is a bit of a bridge between it and the next book. This makes it kind of hard to explain because a) it’s in a different POV, and b) context, but hopefully that makes sense! In essence: Lonan + Harrison’s relationship is big sad and Harrison tries to make it less big sad and it gets even more big sad. 

I’ll share a very quick profile of both of the boys so there’s some context for the following excerpts I’ll share!

Harrison

My boy

Generally very outgoing, tho around Lonan this fizzles. Only wants the best for Lonan despite their history. He’s the ‘main’ narrator of the piece (third limited to him though I’m guilty of head hopping lol), so the work has a softer tone than I’m used to. Though Harrison tries to be a Macho Man, around Lonan he’s most himself--mellow, a lil stupidly romantic, and vulnerable. 

Lonan

My problematic son/probably should be cancelled 

The “issue” in the relationship loool. He’s emotionally immature and lacks accountability, but because of his past, lacks the ability to recognize these faults and work on them. Because of this, he’s fundamentally stayed the same for the last few works he’s been in (if not gotten worse). Lonan requires a lot of emotional assistance, though he isn’t self-aware enough to recognize this. This is often the cause of much conflict. 

Conception:

Like I mentioned, I often write short spinoff stories following these boys because it’s a safe happy place for when I’m feeling stressed. This is basically how this piece started, though I’ve continued it for different reasons which I’ll get into. I don’t remember how the first scene was brainstormed, but I do know when I started writing this a few months ago, I wanted it to be a lot longer than my previous stories--a place where I could just dump my writing, even when it wasn’t good. I think I did this to cope with the stress of my writing class honestly, lol, I think I needed a break from ‘serious’ writing AKA a place I could just goof off and have some fun. 

The writing bit: 

Writing this story has been a bit inconsistent. I’ve been drafting it in little pieces since the beginning of the year, and only recently picked it up as more of a ‘full-time’ work. This is subject to change depending on whether or not I get more of book 7 done. I’ve gone from writing 20 words a day to 0 to 1000--there’s really no consistency with the drafting process here. 

I have recently decided that I’ll most likely expand this into either a novella or novel itself because there is literally so much tea left to explore and it’s surpassed 10k words. Drafting Moth Work has been so helpful in easing me back into the world of FOSTERED and piecing together the huge time gap from the end of book 6 to the start of book 7. I’ve been a bit anxious to really dive into book 7 for the fear of the unknown, so inching myself closer to that timeline through this project has been very helpful!

The editing bit:

I recently did an edit around the line level for this entire piece (it’s about 12k words right now) because a) it really needed it b) I was losing steam/starting to get embarrassed and c) I needed a refresher of what had happened because je suis tres forgetful. This edit made me feel so much better about the project. It initially started off as a work where the writing didn’t actually matter and this mentality was working until I got so embarrassed of the prose I found it difficult to read through old scenes to refresh myself and thus couldn’t productively draft. 

This project isn’t written exactly in my usual style--it’s pretty stripped back and actually reminds me a lot of how my style would’ve been in book 3 had I been a better writer four years ago lol. I think the looser style works for the voice/the story itself but I def wouldn’t categorize this as litfic (what I usually write). Although the prose isn’t very complex, it took me a really long time to get comfortable enough to edit?? But once I got into the rhythm of it a few days ago, I completed the edit fairly quickly, and I’m 100% feeling better about the project overall! Though the prose is still not my top priority I’m not as embarrassed of it currently lols. 

I also divided the project into chapters because it was getting pretty long to just be one mass of text. I currently have 3 chapters. This update will cover chapter 1. 

Playlist:

Yo this is literally the best part of writing this project, lol, I get to listen to so much different music?? I’ve made a comprehensive playlist for this story with a character by character breakdown (if anyone wants to see that/highlights, let me know!). This playlist pulls from every song from my library, so we span genres and artists like crazy. Nothing But Thieves has been the primary artist for this story (specifically their self-titled album). These songs (all NBT oop) are the most relevant if you want to get the general tone lol (anything with a star has explicitly inspired the project):

Excuse Me*

Honey Whiskey*

Tempt You (Evocatio)*

If I Get High (II)

Gods

Lover, Please Stay*

I Was Just A Kid*

Get Better

Hell, Yeah*

Afterlife

Reset Me

Particles

Sorry

Number 13

Excerpts:

I don’t have *many* because prose hasn’t really been a top priority for this project, but I’ll try to include at least one per scene. 

This is one of the opening paragraphs from chapter one which I’ve titled ‘False Idol’. In short, the chapter follows the boys first attempting to destroy the dark room and then getting distracted and eventually not pulling through after Harrison finds a picture of Ominous Lady. 

The chapter’s chronology is wild so we can break it up as follows:

Scene A

The boys enter the dark room with the intention of burning it down

Harrison reaches for his lighter and drops it which prompts him to find the photograph of Ominous Lady

Him and Lonan mildly argue about Ominous Lady until Lonan takes it too seriously and throws a tantrum :-DD

Scene B

Not really a full scene, just a bridge between scene A and C.

Harrison has been waiting for Lonan to return to their campsite for the entire day and he decides to at the very last moment

“hey so i’m unable to apologize for anything but also! cigarette! let’s share it! lungs!” 

Scene C

The boys exercising their canoeing skills

This leads us to our first “beat”.

Lonan interrupts Harrison’s peaceful evening by having a mild crisis

This takes place right after the events of Lolita, Lolita (chapter 16 of REWIRED). We then jump back to the fictive present.

 This alternates like 5 more times lol then the chapter is done!

The following excerpt describes their entry into the dark room. Don’t know how smart it is to be smoking in a room full of highly flammable material but we out here.

I don’t think she’s particularly special but I also don’t hate her so!! hoping an aesthetic photo will make it read better :’)) I ! don’t ! think ! it does ! but !

Harrison shoulders the door first, traps it open with the clip of his boot. Dust and streaks of light rake behind him as he pushes through cardboard boxes, mountains of photo paper on the ground. Lonan follows silently, still wearing Harrison’s jacket. Trails of smoke from his cigarette catch in the negatives hanging by the clothespins, chemical peel between the layers of ink. In one hand he tends to his cigarette, and in the next, lugs in the canister of gasoline they found in the cabin’s cellar. As Harrison fumbles for his flashlight, Lonan sets it down by the table so it sloshes like the Pacific. 

This is a bit of when Harrison finds the photograph of Ominous Lady:

He turns the photograph over, and shines the flashlight on it. It’s scratched and developed wrong, little bits of orange obscuring the woman’s face, but it’s very much a woman. A dark bob and bangs in her eyes, jewelry hanging from her septum. Sunshades enough to reflect the European street behind her. The discreet jet of ink on her skin, blues and greens peeking out from under her sleeve. Izzy, he recognizes. Lonan’s mother. 

Nudging Lonan with an elbow, “I didn’t know your mom has tattoos.” 

Lonan takes the photograph cautiously, holding it by the corners like it’ll burn him. His brow trembles, but it takes him only seconds to say, “That’s not my mom.” He takes the flashlight from Harrison and examines it closer, fingers nimble and tracing the edges. In the grey light of the dark room, he looks nullified. Just a monochromatic hum of chromosomes and skin. 

that’s not my MOM

After the boys find the photograph, Lonan gets triggered at Harrison’s suggestion to find the woman (he presumes her to be someone involved with his father) and promptly has a tantrum and exits. This leads us into the next scene where the boys! actually! get! on! boat! In this scene Lonan tries to say sorry for his tantrum by offering Harrison a cigarette (lol) and because Harrison is hopelessly romantic and also hopelessly dumb, says yeeeees sir! They go for a canoe ride on the water. Thought it was going to be sweet, ended up being a shitstorm but!

This paragraph is kind of toast but:

The canoe isn’t hard to get into the water. After a few nudges from the dock into the slow dip of tide, it stabilizes easily. Harrison is convinced it will capsize but Lonan knows it won’t. They take one ore each, and ignore the life jackets at the back of the shed.

The moon is large and mesmerizing. As Harrison and Lonan take turns pushing the canoe into the water, mast first, then its entire belly, it colours them silver. Lonan’s protected the cigarette in the pocket of his shirt. Harrison stares at its faint outline stretched under the fabric. Lonan steps into the canoe first, rocking with the current, and extends a hand for Harrison. He pulls him in and they row until the cabin is the size of a fingernail, the wave steady and dense. Each cut of the paddle feels like plunging a scalpel into flesh and Harrison watches Lonan do it easily. In the distance, the cabin doesn’t look so menacing. Reeve has left the lamp on by the loft, and it glimmers back like an eyeball, effervescent and tiny. Nothing but a reflective penny in the distance.

Here’s some Harrison being lame:

The water laps at the base of the canoe, and Ris reaches over and touches it like it’s holy. He makes the sign of the cross and it feels perverse, cold water dripping from forehead to chin.

For a while it’s quiet. Just the distant hum of crickets, the slash of the paddle, and the off-chance flash of something in the distance; an animal, a flashlight. Ris tries not to think about Lonan’s dad, like a dead man slithering through the water, following their boat. He picks at a saltine, sucks it between his tongue meditatively. Against the sky, Lonan is backlit and lovely and flecks of his hair peek up from around the jacket’s collar. Harrison wonders if as a child, everyone said he looked just like his father. 

On top of lacking accountability, Lonan is also a professional canoeist so he takes over while Harrison eats saltines and reminisces about an encounter they had weeks prior. This leads into the solid chunk of backstory that I weirdly jump in an out of for the entire chapter. :)

Backstory consists of drunk Lonan having a crisis while Harrison tries to have a peaceful evening of taping up his drawings to his bedroom ceiling. The following excerpt describes the moment right after Lonan enters the room.

Harrison’s lips secured around his cigarette, his hand mid-air with packing tape and line drawings of the moon. A tinny country song dribbled through the radio. The minute-meal he’d heat up in the microwave lying forgotten and cold on his desk. Harrison set the pile of drawings down and turned off the music.

“Emily left?” Lonan asked. He kept his face upward, stared clumsily at the ceiling. Harrison watched his eyes trace the new drawings, following the uncalculated pattern. 

This paragraph is made up of 5 similes and this is the only reason I’m sharing it :)))):

Lonan has stopped paddling. The canoe sits in the middle of the lake, lifeless, like a bone in the water. He’s turned so Harrison can see him in profile, and Ris can’t tell if it’s relieving or worrying to see his face. Lonan’s jaw is taut, like there are words he wants to say there but can’t. Filling up the hollow bone. He blinks slowly, like he’s trying to re-centre himself, his chest quivering with breaths meant to steady him. The water laps at the base of the canoe, whirling. Dark hair tangles down his cheeks like the fingers of a poltergeist. 

I think that’s a pretty good way to end this post lol! How many similes have you put in one paragraph? What’s your record lol this is probably mine!

Hope y’all enjoy the intro to MOTH WORK. I have two other chapters already written which I’ll update on in a separate post! For now I hope you like this more laid back project, let me know what you think!

---Rachel

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #238

“crimson calligraphy written on the trees, creature from the grave, headless and hellbent for me.”

Have you ever played golf? Like, mini-golf. Is there a lake near your house? No, but there's two small ponds down the road. Have you ever made your own pizza or pasta dough? No. Have you ever watched an entire season of a tv show in one day? Uhhhhh how long are the first few seasons of Supernatural? Because Jason and I fucking binged it, and I honestly think that's partially the reason I don't even enjoy TV anymore. Like I liked the show, but jfc it became torture at some point. Not his fault at all, I just never pointed it out. BUT ANYWAY, it's definitely possible we did. What did you have for dinner tonight (or last night)? A ham and cheese hot pocket. Do your parents do things that ‘embarrass’ you? This is so mean, but my mom makes the cringiest jokes and such imo that gives me mad secondhand embarrassment. Do you like any Bon Jovi songs? Yeah, a decent handful. Who was the last person you were in a car with? Mom. Do you give people second chances? Ha, more than "second." How’re things between you and your most recent ex? We're totally great. Really as if we didn't even break up, considering I mean... nothing emotionally has changed. We just know that being together right now isn't the wise decision. It's frustrating as hell, though. We've already established we're not going to "wait" for each other, but neither of us are actively looking for a new partner, either. I want her, and from what I can tell, she wants me, too. We kinda just... don't talk about how unfair it all is anymore because we both get too upset. I was even supposed to go up there with her and her fam for her birthday and Christmas, but that's changed because she and I agree it's too soon after splitting, making it only more difficult to be around each other. We'd want to cuddle and kiss and such by instinct, so we're trying to wait until the wound isn't as fresh. Though honestly, I don't know how visiting period would go consider as said, there has been zero change in romantic attraction. Ugh yeah I just hope she figures out what she wants and all and we can get back together. Have you been to a wedding this year? No. I'm going to my half-sister's next year, though. Are you an aunt or uncle? Yes, and another niece is on her way. :') Do you expect to be married in the next two years? Probably not. What season is your birthday in? Winter. Have you ever been hunting? Fuck that shit. How often do you walk around barefoot? Always in my own house + in other houses if I'm allowed to take my shoes off. When you eat take-out, do you just eat it out of the containers provided? Usually, but it does depend on what food it is. Ex., those little boxes that have rice in them from Chinese places? I'm using a bowl. From the container is just messy. Would you need to sleep with someone before considering marrying them? Nah. Do you carry condoms? No. Would you date someone who has a hearing aid? ... Yes...? "No" is just... so rude?? Like that is something the person absolutely cannot help, nor is it a HUGE thing. It's just a hearing aid, dude. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty decent. Folders and such. Could be better still, probably. Have you ever been to a strip club? Nah, not my scene. Have you ever brought home a stray animal? Pleeeeenty of cats. Are you physically strong? No, especially not my legs. I've got a newborn fawn's legs, jc. Still working on building the muscle back up. Would you date someone with braces? Oh my god, fuck off. Yes I would. I was the person with braces dating someone without them, so 1.) I obviously can't say shit, 2.) they're taking care of their goddamn teeth, and 3.) I dunno, wearing braces has no goddamn impact on personality???????????? Does scuba diving interest you? Not to an incredible degree, but it'd be cool. Would you ever ask your parents for relationship advice? Maybe for certain topics. Do you think people look up to you? Y'know that "oh no hunty WHAT is u doin" meme??? That's me if someone does. How often do you have trouble sleeping at night? *blinking* There are people who don't??????? Do you blush easily? Ohhhhhh yes. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Hm. Not sure. Can you name five current world leaders? AHAHA nope. How many times have you had the flu? Zero. Do you think imagination is valuable? Oh hell yes. We would be NOWHERE CLOSE to where we are as animals without it. Who or what are you most impatient with? I don't know. When was the last time you mowed a lawn? Never. Have you seen all of the Star Wars films? No; seen only the first three with a friend and saw zero appeal. He didn't either. How about all of the Harry Potter ones, so far? I haven't even seen one. Jason and I started the first one together but. Paid way more attention to each other than the movie lmfao. What part of the newspaper do you typically enjoy reading? None. I collect my school's papers now though 'cuz I'm the photographer for it. :') Have you ever made a website, even a simple one? Four that I remember. The ancient and now-defunct ones were back when I think this site called Wetpaint was a host for simple sites, and a lot of us RPers posted our mob info and stuff there. I had one for Talons, one for Connrads. Ha, out of curiosity, I think I looked for them not all too long ago since I never actually deleted them, but I think the site itself was re-purposed. NOW, I have a Wix site for my photography, and then Kalahari Manor is a ProBoards-hosted site. Which was better: your childhood or your teen years? Jfc, childhood. Teen years were a chaotic and rancid cesspit in terms of mental health. What was your reaction to your first time falling in love? I truly imagine that realizing I was *in love* with Jason surpassed what a high probably feels like lmao. What does it take for someone to win your heart? I'm actually putting thought into this one and I think what appeals to me in a person most is just being friendly with a good sense of humor and obvious, shameless concern for others. AND JFC, HAVE EMOTION. Don't be a brick wall with me. Lacking an emotional side, positive or negative, is such a turn-off to me. I'm not attracted to robots. Being a gentle person is important, and for me personally, you need to actually act like you're into me. Not just between us. Do not make me a secret. AND BE CREATIVE AND WEIRD AND FRESH!!!!!!!!!!! There's nothing wrong with more "vanilla" people, but just for me myself, I need someone who stands out for some good reason. lol okay this answer's actually getting kinda long, I'll stop. There's a number of ways. What is one thing you would rather be doing? Ha ha yo real talk, Sara and I are getting all emotional and deep into our relationship, platonic or romantic, and I want me and her in her bed right now tearing each other up alsdkjfla;kwejre I love her a lot ok. When was the last time you changed your mind about something? OKAY SO I started a new birth control, right? It. Sent. Me. BACK. With my PTSD. How? Idfk, but I was suddenly obsessing over Him again, badly. I stopped that shit, and wha'd'ya know, two days later, I'm like "lol wtf I don't want him why did that just happen hunty was u ok????????". SO YEAH, that was a trip. Do you know anyone with a lisp? I'm not sure. Possibly. How much weight can you lift at once? No clue. Not a lot. Do you ask guys out, or wait for them to ask you out? I've never asked a guy out, but I wouldn't say I wouldn't. Do you like the last person who showed interest in you? I love her. Describe the last person you stared at? I have no idea. Do you like dating one person at a time, or multiple people? I'm personally monogamous. Have your experiences made you more or less sympathetic to others? MORE. Do you find smoking unattractive? I do. Have your parents ever searched your personal belongings? Mom has. Where did you get your last bruise from? ... Well. This is uh. Awkward. Tying into when I was on that medicine that made my libido fucking uncontrollable (thank the fucking lord I'm back to normal), my breasts are lookin rough, sister. Are you looking forward to anything? Nothing in the VERY near future, I think. A bit further off, Christmas. I can't wait to see the kids so excited again, and for once, we come together as a true family. Plus my #1 wish is to have my Mark tattoo improved at an amazing parlor, and I'm pretty sure that'll be happening, just obvs. not on Christmas Day itself. I'll just be fuckin STOKED when I *know* it's happening. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Yes. How much money did you spend today? $1.25 for something from the vending machine. I didn't have breakfast, so I was really hungry. When you’re bored in class, what do you usually do? Try to not doze off. If we're not doing anything, then I'll play around with my phone. Have you ever had a song stuck in your head for more than a day? Oh, definitely. Ever walked into the guy’s bathroom? HA as a stupid elementary school with her friends, we sure did during a work day (my mom used to work with special ed kids at school). We thought we were soooo rebellious. How many wives or husbands do you want? One. What happens if you fall in love with your best friend? Ha, did. I still am, and we hope to be back together someday. Has a teacher ever flirted with you? Not that I know of. Thankfully. Is it okay for friends to kiss each other, as friends? It's not my thing, but sure, if it's consenting and both are aware it's platonic. Do your wishes ever get granted in the worst way possible? Probably in some way at some point I don't recall. How do you feel about your naked body? NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO Have you ever been called obnoxious? I don't think so, anyway. Do you wish you had a bigger family? No. Which friend would you kiss full on the mouth, no questions asked? Sara. Can you do a split or stick your foot up next to your ear? Nope. When was the last time you complained about something? I was venting some mild frustration to Sara earlier tonight. What is your favorite color combination? Favorite is probably pastel orange and light blue. Love it. Then there's pastel pink and purple. Okay pretty much any combination is about the pastels When was the last time you spoke in front of a group? A month or so back when I had to do my Lifeline presentation in FYS. Do you like group projects, or do you prefer to work alone? I strongly prefer working alone. There's no disagreements, compromises, incompetent partners, etc. Have you ever been told you were going to Hell? Yup! (: Indirectly, but. How did you respond? I don't recall, but I wish I did. Who is the most argumentative person you know? She's not in my life anymore partially BECAUSE of that shit. Do you know anyone who is crazy about proper grammar? Yes, but she has OCD as a valid reason. I'm pretty particular about it too to a degree. Who was the last person to make you feel special? Oh my gosh, my therapist told me she was so proud of me and the progress I was making that I just entirely lit up and became a total beaming ball of giggles and "thank you"s. Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? No, I'm bi. If your best friend grabs your hand, what do you automatically do? Squeeze it. What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? Cheesy and spicy scrambled eggs, man. Also known as the only thing I can properly cook lmao. Do you tend to flirt a lot, even when the person isn’t single? Fuck no, if they're not single. I'll flirt with my s/o when I see it appropriate or relevant, and in a case where we're both single, I'd be very subtle about it because shy. What’s something that you think is really cute? Off the very top of my head, the Ewoks from Star Wars, oh my fucking god. They were the only thing I enjoyed in the movies. What’s a pretty bird? I mean... pretty much all of them. BUT, can we take a moment to appreciate the bearded vulture? like???? they're fucking BADASS???????????? Besides sleeping, what do you do in bed? Almost... everything. It's the reason I endured/am still recovering from muscle atrophy in my legs. Have you ever hacked into somebody’s account? Playfully, back when that was a thing for friends to do and post lovey-dovey stuff about them everywhere. Megan and I, and I believe Mini and I as well, did it to each other. Possibly more. Is having to pee really badly worse than being really thirsty? Oh hell yes it is. The former can get to a point of hurting. Have you ever touched a Qu'ran? No. Do you love animals more than most? Oh definitely. Why do you eat fast food? It's easy to grab when on the run, and Mom has almost zero time to cook. Then we both have school. Most often I just warm things up in the microwave or grab something substantial enough in the fridge. Is there always going to be that one person you and a friend makes fun of? I guess you could say indirectly, yes. Just something she said in a certain way became an inside joke. Her as a person, no, I wouldn't do that. What is a bad habit of yours that you’re actually trying to fix? Having terrible eye contact. I have a very hard time maintaining it, but I've been trying to keep that weakness in mind when talking to people. Do you write out your feelings? That's one reason why I take these surveys, yes. Do you have bills to pay yet? It's embarrassing that I don't. Not saying like, I want to pay bills, what madman would, but I do want to feel more like a proper, independent adult. Will you be changing your hair any time soon? Not the style, but one thing I'm asking for Christmas is a professional to dye my hair silver. I say pro because my hair does NOT hold color, and because of the bleach needed, Mom's concerned I'll damage my hair if I put my trust into anyone less qualified. Does your mom have a celebrity look-alike? I don't think so, but she looks UNCANNILY like her firstborn daughter. It is SCARY. Is there something you wish you could learn to do? There's loads of stuff. Probably above all, cook. Or stop procrastinating. If you could be amazing at ONE thing, what would it be? Drawing precisely what I see in my head. Because of how important they are to me, I would pay BIG FUCKING BUCKS to get how my 'kats look onto paper. What do you wish people would pay you to do? Complain about my weight. :^) I'd be able to just pay for surgery to fix that within a day. Do you take good pictures? I personally think I do. I mean I wanna be a professional photographer. How would one go about impressing you? It depends on the subject and difficulty of whatever. What probably impresses me most would be someone maintaining a mature, peaceful attitude when there is reason to act otherwise. Self-control, that's it. Do you automatically apologize if you walk into somebody? Duh? Tell me a memory of this summer: It was fucking scorching and I hated every minute of it. What’s something that you don’t need, but really want? Hmmmm. OH, HELL YES. IF I had the proper body to even remotely pull them off, I. Would wear. NOTHING. But corsets. Jesus FUCKING Christ they are so hot. What do you draw more than anything else? Just about all I draw is meerkats. What’s the most favorite class you’ve ever had? The Digital Photography course I took in high school. Or Art Honors my junior year. I really enjoyed the stuff I made. For each person you’ve kissed, describe your feelings in one word: Jason: melancholy; Tyler: dramatic; Girt(?): loyal; Sara: ideal. How do you react when you trip or stumble? Gasp and carry on. If it was a more serious trip, I look around at who saw. Are you good at “biting your tongue”? NO. Why do you love the one you do? She's been there for me without fail, has undying faith in me, supports me through everything, is honest, she's funny and very unique, her adoration for animals shows a great level of compassion, she trusts me so much despite her history, she stands extremely firmly for what she sees as right and wrong... okay I can honestly write an essay on why I love her. Would you rather get [another] tattoo or piercing? GIMME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 THE TATTOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111111111111 Do you have long or short legs? I'd say they're normal, idk. When do you listen to Nickelback? *shrugs* When I wanna? Would you rather make the first move, or your crush? Them. I'm shy.