#and every time i get your voicemail i want to throw a rock through a window

[autonomousmelir]

callout post for my boyfriend

charge your phone so i can call you and tell you i love you dummy <3

[spookysteddie]

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 

… 

You should’ve changed your mind. 

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 

Photos are fine. 

Everyone must be tagged. 

Nothing negative. 

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 

You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 

… 

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 

“‘Precious babies?’” 

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 

So, you do. 

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 

“V-very.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” 

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 

“Oh god! Please.” 

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 

“And now… we wait.”

[grahamzcracker]

💊— i’m only seventeen - i don’t know anything, but i know i miss you.

effy stonem x reader | w.c : 722 | CW : cheating, slight mention of drug use . | title from betty by taylor swift. (req status : open!)

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Effy was pacing in her room, calling you nonstop. You had caught her cheating on you with Cook a few days ago and you're now ignoring her. You've been skipping school for the past few days just so you wouldn't have to see her or Cook, and you've mainly just spent the days rotting in your bed, only occasionally leaving to eat or use the restroom. 

Effy ran her fingers through her hair, sighing out of frustration as the phone went to voicemail for what felt like the millionth time. She decided it was no use and put her phone up, before she finished getting ready and headed out to school.

She debated on just skipping the day, knowing her mum wouldn't even notice, but realized she didn't want to be stuck inside all day. She spent most of the day trying to avoid everyone, but it didn't work out so well. Cook was the one that was hard to avoid, with his constant talking, and he had approached her at the end of the day at her locker. 

"What's your problem, princess? Gonna ignore me all day?" he asked with a grin.

"Fuck off, Cook." Effy said, slamming the locker shut and heading out the building. Cook tried to run after her but ended up losing her in a crowd of students. 

Once Effy got home, she tried ringing you again a few times but it was no use. She headed downstairs and got a snack, then tried to settle down for the day.

A couple hours later, she called again and wasn't surprised when you didn't answer. She realized calling wasn't going to get her anywhere, so she changed into a comfier outift and headed out of her house, starting to walk to your house. 

It was fairly dark by now, but not too late. Effy arrived at your house and took a moment to take in the sight, mentally preparing herself to talk to you. She crouched down and picked up a few rocks, starting to throw them at your window to get your attention.

After a few minutes, you opened your window, looking frustrated. Your hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days and you just looked like a complete mess in general. 

"What do you want, Eff?" you called out.

"Can I come in?" she asked, and you took a moment before caving in, giving her a nod and heading down to the front door to open it.

You guys sat down on your couch in awkward silence, before Effy spoke up.

"You look like shit." she said with a smirk.

"Oh, I wonder why." you muttered sarcastically. 

"Right, yeah... Listen, I really am sorry."

You looked at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Bullshit... How can I believe you? You never care about who your actions hurt, all you ever want is fun! You can't even just be with someone, even if it's for a little bit. We- we were good together, I don't get why you had to go back to Cook for the millionth fucking time! I should've known something was up. You act different when you hang out with him, it's like he just brings out the worst in you... Just because I don't go out and party and get high or drunk every night doesn't mean I'm not good enough for you! We're great together, and you know it."

"Look— I get what you're saying, I do! Please hear me out. I fucked up, like really bad. I'm sorry I was so stupid, I realize now that I don't want Cook. I don't know what I was thinking, I shouldn't have done what I did. I think... I don't know, I think I just... couldn't handle the fact that I love you." she said, the last few words coming out in a softer tone.

Your gaze softened at the last words. Does Effy really love you? 

"What? You love me?" your earlier frustration went away as you spoke and you couldn't fight the grin creeping up on your face.

"Do I really have to say it again?" she groaned.

"Yup."

"I love you, okay? I was stupid for not realizing it before."

"I love you too." you replied with a smile, pulling her in for a gentle kiss.

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a/n : hope u enjoyed!!!!!

[euphoriafanfix]

warm sheets: chapter 1

warnings: s3xu@l content 18+

38 unread messages

9 missed calls

5 voicemails

Nate turns his phone off and rolls over. He can't stand the thought of Maddy or Cassie right now. He loved one girl. One girl. The sheets are warm where she had been laying. She had gotten in the shower just about five minutes ago. Nate couldn't get images of her out his head. He traced his hand across the sheets. Feeling the heat. Remembering her body laying there. Remembering how he would gently brush against her thigh. Remembering how she would put her hands in his hair as they kissed. He loved how soft her hands were. How she would grab him and pull him into her body. How she would kiss a trail down his stomach. Then kiss his inner thigh. He loved the way she would drag the whole situation on before actually going for his cock. He loved the suspenseful yearning. The anticipation of it all. But most of all he loved the way she went down on him. She knew exactly what to do. He loved feeling her tongue on his bare skin. He loved cumming in her. He loved how she acted like it was no big deal swallowing. He loved her. He didn't just love to fuck her. He loved her.

Confident as always, she walks out of the bathroom. The tiny towel wrapped tightly around her body makes her tits pop. She is beautiful, Nate thought to himself. She waltzes over to his dresser and pulls out the first t-shirt she sees. She giggles. "2017 Beer Pong Champion" is slapped across the front of it.

"What's this?", she says with a grin on her face.

"It's my dad's. I didn't know he was cool enough to play beer pong until he gave me that shirt," he sneaks a smirk.

She lets the towel slide off her body, throwing the t-shirt over her head. Still grinning, she walks over to the edge of the bed. Nate looks down at her. She kneels to the edge of the bed. She grabs his ankles and pulls him closer. This time she starts with his shins. She kisses him slowly moving up. He can't help but get hard.

"Well that was fast. I usually have to get to your thighs before that happens."

She kisses his thighs. She rubs his stomach and brings her head up to his happy trail. She rubs his abs and arms and shoulders. She knows the suspense is killing him and yet he loves it.

She skips his cock and moves up to his neck. She nuzzles her face in the space between his collar bone and chin. She kisses him. She slides her tongue across his collarbone. Finally, she kisses him on the lips. Their bodies collide as they make out. They are completely in sync. Their bodies have a rhythm. She runs her hands through his hair. He grabs her waist and pushes himself into her. She takes off the shirt. He takes off his boxers.

Jules was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Everything she did was magical. He adored her.

Nate slid his dick into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him for dear life. As if she were on a rollercoaster. And honestly having sex with Nate Jacobs is just about as fun for her as amusement park rides are.

He thrusted his hips into hers. She felt his cock, rock hard, moving in and out of her pussy. She pushes him a little harder, a little deeper. She wanted him to go faster and he did. He loved control, but with Jules it was different. He liked to let her control him.

She could tell he was close to cumming and she wanted to torture him a little, so she pulled him out. She rolled back on the bed and giggled. Nate knew what this meant. He picked himself up and got on top of her. He kisses her tits. Sucking on her nipples. Licking all across her stomach. She liked when Nate licked her. She liked how he would lick every inch of her if she asked him to. He picked her up and slid her further up on the bed. Then, he got to work. He started licking her thighs and labia and eventually her clit. He knew exactly how she liked it. He twirls his tongue in circles first. Then up and down. Then he took his fingers and pressed on her. He rose back up to her face, his hand still in her pussy. He stroked, hard. She tried to suppress her moans so that no one would hear but she couldn't help herself. She gasped and moaned trying hard to be quiet. She grabbed his dick and shoved it back into herself. Nate, still rubbing her clit, thrusted deeper into her. He felt the heat of her body against his. "oh fuck nate don't stop don't stop," she whispered in his ear. "i fucking love you jules." "i know. nate keep going. harder. faster. come on." She grinded up against him, feeling every part of their bodies touch. "holy fuck jules," Nate moaned. He gasped for oxygen as the heat and pleasure consumed him. "OH FUCK FUCK," he whined. She moaned, loud. He came in her. She came on him. They both throbbed with pleasure. She felt his cum inside her pussy. Warm and wet. He stayed inside her even after they both orgasmed. They both liked feeling interconnected. She liked feeling him inside her. He rolled to her side and laid his head down on her boobs. She nuzzled herself into him and closed her eyes. He kissed her forehead and nose. They fell asleep in each other's arms. Before they knew it, the sun came up and the mourning dove was singing its woeful song.

[erodasfishtacos]

Hi, this was a special request from a kofi donation. Thank you so so much planet anon.

This was the request: Maybe just like what a normal night looks like for them in school after getting out of class/practice, etc just really domestic and fluffy, maybe a little smut idk, completely up to you, make it yours ❤️

reblog, like, recommend, comment, & come talk to me if you enjoyed it!

Enjoy!

-

It was about six months into dating.

Harry had been doing some very vigorous training for the upcoming games against a very good team that they needed to take down for the playoffs.

That meant workouts in the morning, classes, and then training at the field until it was dark and the stadium lights turned on.

He was struggling practice because he missed his person. He hadn’t been able to see YN in nearly two weeks because of this bullshit.

YN had become his person very very quickly. He fell hard in a way that had never happened to him before in his life.

Harry attempts to call her on his way back to the frat house after practice, sighing when it rings until it goes to voicemail.

“Hi baby, m’just callin’ to say goodnight. I miss y’a whole fuckin’ lot and can’t wait until I can get you in m’arms again,” He murmurs into the phone, ignoring his teammates who are fucking around beside him.

“Did you hear that? You wanna hold me, Styles?” Austin coos, throwing his arm around his shoulder with a kissy noise.

“Not w’a face only y’mama can love,” He teases back, slipping his phone into his bag and trying to push back the lump in his throat.

He can’t help but text too.

h: Tried to call. Have a good night, sleep well. I love you ❤️

All the players drop their smelly gear and plop down on the coach to relax but Harry just trudges upstairs with a bit of gloom.

He never thought he’d be so attached to someone.

When he steps into his room, he’s instantly pissed off because someone is in his bathroom - using his shower and making it warm in the room.

“Who the fuck is in there? Are you fucking joking, I’m not in the mood for this,” Harry booms, dropping his duffle and stomping through the door.

Harry rips open the shower curtain, dumbfounded and frozen when he isn’t faced with one of his teammates but his soft, plush, wet, naked girlfriend.

“Surprise,” She giggles lightly as she blinks through the stream of water and pushing her hair off of her face.

He doesn’t think before he’s pushing her further back into the shower and following in after he with his lips sealed to hers.

“Harry!” YN laughs against his lips, he was still completely clothed, “You’re soaking your clothes!”

“Don’t care, need t’kiss you,” He grunts without a care, his hands roaming her hips, belly, ribcages, everything.

“Mmm!” She squeaks happily, helping him remove all of his water-heavy, soiled clothes off and out onto the tiles floor.

“Missed you s’much, baby,” He murmurs, over the moon, as he moves his head down to capture her nipple in his mouth.

“H, yes,” YN hums happily, hands carding through his tangled, matted curls as his other hand kneads at her tummy until slipping to her pretty, plump folds that hide away his favorite parts.

“Yeah, don’t act surprise. Comin’ t’surprise me, of course, I’m gonna lose my mind. M’fuckin’ feral for this body,” He tells her lowly, voice deep and affected as he twists at her unattended nipple with enough force to have her hiss.

Harry wanted to do so so many things from eating her out, to playing with her nipples long enough that she comes from that with just a little thigh riding, but she makes up his mind for him.

“Need you in me, c’mon,” She goads him, turning around and pressing her palms against the wall with her bum stuck out.

“Shit, darling. How is every part of you perfect?” Harry wonders out loud, fingers curiously dipping between her cheeks, thumb smoothing over her tighter hole.

It has her letting out an unfiltered, loud whimper and she pushes back into until he breaches just the littlest of bit.

“Mmm, gonna ‘ave to play with y’arse,” Harry replies in her ear as he slips up and down her entrance a few times before fully pushing in.

“Gonna have to play with yours too,” She retorts back but falters when he starts out with rough, directed thrusts.

“Baby, don’t tease me, know I’ll love it,” He replies, nipping at the nape of her neck, shoulders, whenever he could reach.

It only takes a few minutes before he’s close and she’s whining, “H, just need a little more plea-“

He doesn’t let her finish, tows her leg up and brings his other to thumb tight, wide circles on her clit until she’s panting and rocking against him thumb then back on his cock.

“Good girl, y’got it, baby,” Harry praises, legitimately in awe of how fucking gorgeous his girlfriend was and how he managed to snag her.

“Yeah, yeah,” She babbles, tensing up before letting out a long, euphoric moan as she releases, Harry following right after.

“Want another one?” Harry offers as soon as he pulls out, soft but always willing to please.

“Want a cuddle,” YN replies, thumbing at his puffy bottom lip, “Wouldn’t turn down your mouth though never would.”

“My mouth that good, darlin’?” He hums cockily, squatting down and spreading her legs.

“Don’t get a big ego,” She huffs with a chuckle, “Haven’t had many guys do it to me. Maybe it’s just how it always is.”

Harry can’t help but frown before biting her folds gently for a punishment, “S’never this good. M’the only guy who will be doin’ it from now on, understand?”

He then continues to make her come twice on his tongue just to prove his point before they scrub each other off and wash their hair.

She waits in her towel as Harry riffles through his drawer for her favorite shirt of his to sleep in as well as grabbing a pair of panties from her drawer in his dresser.

Then he’s tugging the shirt over her head and leaning down for her to step into the soft underwear and wriggling it up her hips for her.

“I missed you so much,” YN sighs, once Harry’s in a pair of briefs and they’re snuggled tightly under his covers.

“Thought ‘bout you every second,” He replies truthfully, “Spoon me, darling.”

They move around until YN is tight against the back of him, his tiny bum in the cradle of her hips, and her arm swung around his hard stomach.

“So needy,” She teases, kissing over his strong, muscular back that’s still warm from the shower and sun exposure.

“Never had this before,” Harry mumbles sheepishly, blushing into the darkness of the room and he feels her squeeze his middle.

“I know but you do now,” YN assured him before whispering back, “And it makes me feel so special you are letting me experience this with you.”

Harry brings his hand up to kiss her knuckles, “Want t’experience everything with you from now on.”

[hanniiesuckle17]

Ateez Reaction: Hangover

A/n: i am so obsessed with Ateez. like wow. damn. so this is my first ateez reaction but i cant wait to do more! I'm still a new Atiny so please go easy on me and i hope you like it!

Tag List: @ashisparanoid​ @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​

Warnings: cussing

Hongjoong:

You awoke to pain between your legs and sore muscles all around your body. Normally, you took pretty well to hangovers. They never bothered you much. However, the night prior both you and your boyfriend had quite a lot to drink which led to a very...explorative and wild night.

You made a small attempt to sit up, but that was quickly stilled by the aching pain all over your mostly bare body. Rolling over, you grabbed the closest shirt on the floor and wheezed at the twinges of pain as you lifted it over your head. Looking over you saw Hongjoong still fast asleep. He lay on his stomach, the muscles in his back shifting every now and then. 

Smiling, you pressend gentle kisses along his bare skin. Slowly he began to wake up. “Oh- my head-.....good morning, gorgeous.” His voice was raw sending shivers down your spine. His red hair was sticking up in wild directions, reminding you of a cute Einstein. His lips were puffy and there were several red marks on his neck and shoulder. “Is your hangover as bad as mine?” He mumbled, rubbing the fatigue and sleep away from his face.

“I have a small headache. I’m mostly sore...and hungry.”

“Ooooo! You know what sounds perfect?” Hongjoong mused, bottom lip tugging between his teeth. “Pizza.”He laughed seeing your eyes light up. Reaching over on the night stand he pulled out his phone and began ordering a huge pizza, with you looking over his shoulder. 

“Do you think they would deliver it straight to the bed? I don’t wanna get up.” 

Hongjoong laughed and finished the order before rolling on top of you and covering your face with lazy kisses. “Good thing I have the day off. I feel like shit and I have no plan of leaving this bed.” After a little while the two of you heard a knock at the apartment door. “I’m not getting up,” Holding out your fist the two of you played rock, paper, scissors for who had to get up and answer the door. Hongjoong groaned as you crushed his two fingers with your fist. 

“Fuck you,” He said with a light hearted laugh before throwing off the covers and grabbing a clean pair of sweats to cover himself. 

“You already did. Multiple times.”

Joong left laughing and came back with a pizza in hand. The two of you sat in bed the rest of the day, snacking on the greasy food and chasing away the hangovers and aches.

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa didn’t drink often. He preferred to be the sober one of the group; making sure no one got arrested or molested or something like that. Even when he got drunk with you, the next morning he was always the one taking care of you. He’d pop about twelve painkillers and rush around making you soup and getting medicine for your headaches. 

This morning was not the normal case. Last night he and Hongjoong had gone out and come back blasted. Waking up to Hongjoong drooling on your couch was definitely not what you had expected. After kicking him out with money for a cab and a thermos of coffee you turned your attention to your now groaning boyfriend. You leaned on the doorframe and watched Seonghwa starfish and moan in the center of your shared bed. 

“Morning, Toothless.”

“This is not morning. This is death. I am Death. Your Toothless is dead.���

There was no stopping the laugh that bubbled up in your chest. “What about my Seonghwa? Where is he?”

“He’s dead too. Too much vodka.”

Nodding, you played along before slinking into the bathroom and grabbing two Advil and glass of water. The cup thunked against the night stand and Seonghwa buried himself further into the blankets. “Tell your ghost there is medicine on the table.” The only answer you received was a shaky and pathetic groan from a lump of blanket. “Such a fucking drama queen,” You mumbled with a laugh.

You spent the next thirty minutes making Seonghwa hangover soup. You had found a recipe marked “For Tequila Y/n Aftermath” and assumed it should get your boyfriend back in working- or at least functioning- order.

Carefully, you brought a steaming bowl into the bedroom and forced Seonghwa to sit up against the headboard. He turned to you with puppy eyes. “Feed me?” Rolling your eyes, you reached for the bowl and gave him a spoonful. His eyes lit up with a happy smile. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Toothless.” 

Yunho:

“Wake up, lovebirds!” San screamed, throwing open the curtains. 

Both you and Yunho shrugged away from the light. “San, fuck off!” You mumbled, burrowing further into Yunho’s chest. You whined as he sat up. Hearing San shriek you could only assume Yunho threw a pillow at the younger boy. 

“How bad is your hangover?” Yunho asked, wrapping his long arms around you. 

“How bad is yours?”

“Not too bad.....” You scoffed and pinched his arm making him yelp. “Okay-that was a lie. It’s pretty bad.” 

“Same here.” 

Your cold fingers wrapped around the blankets and pulled them over both your heads. “Let’s never drink again.” Yunho mumbled, eyes closing. The sheets rustled as he threw one of his long legs over you, hugging you with his entire body. 

You chuckled, poking your boyfriend’s puffy cheek. You could only imagine how bloated your face was. “You and I both know that’s not gonna happen.” His lips pouted in frustration, eyes still closed. Unable to resist his cuteness you leaned up and pecked his lips. One peck turned into a few. A few turned into many. 

“Hey, baby?” Yunho mumbled, lying on his back. You hummed, tracing patterns on his chest. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” You laughed and let him loose from your arms. Your giant boyfriend lumbered into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Your body ached and your head was throbbing against the frame of your skull. After a few moments Yunho emerged with a wet washcloth and his breath smelling like mint tooth paste. He still looked very hungover. “Come back to bed, bear.” He crawled over, careful not to get the blankets wet with the washcloth, and rest his head on your chest.

“For you, baby.” His long fingers gingerly lay the cool cloth on your forehead, easing the headache you were having. “What do you say to a few more hours of sleep?” He asked, listening to your heartbeat. Your hands slowly ran through his hair. 

“Sounds pretty damn great.”

Yeosang:

The last you had heard from Yeosang was the ten drunk voicemails he left in your inbox. You called the boys’ manager and made sure that they got home safely. A few minutes ago you received a text from Hongjoong saying all the boys were now up (at two in the afternoon). Hopping in your car, you drove over to their dorm. 

“Knock knock?” You entered the dorm knowing most of the boys would be like zombies. Just as you predicted several of the boys were strewn out in the mostly still dark apartment. The second you opened the blinds they yelped, still sensitive to the light. “Where’s Yeosang?” You asked between laughs.

Mingi groaned from the couch and gestured to the kitchen. There you saw Yeosang attempting to stir something in a pot. He got tired halfway through the motion and rested his head on the counter. Quietly, you took off your coat and approached him from behind. Your boyfriend jumped almost a full foot in the air when you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Y/n? When did you get here, honey?” 

Yeosang abandoned the pot for you, choosing instead to nuzzle his head in your neck. “Just a few minutes ago.” He pulled you into a soft hug, breathing in the scent of your perfume. “So how much and what did you drink last night?” You asked with a laugh. He pulled away and drowsily looked you in the eyes. 

“Ummmm....I remember lots of soju....then San made us do tequila shots.” Out of habit you pushed his soft hair out of his face as he spoke. He leaned into your hand like a moth drawn to light. 

Reaching up, you felt his forehead. “Aww baby. You’ve got a little bit of a fever.” He nodded reattaching his head to the crook of your neck. Normally Yeosang was the opposite of clingy. He was shy and preferred to not flaunt his affection for you. “You want me to finish making your food, Sangie?” He pouted with a nod and shuffled so he was behind you. Picking up where he left off you began to finish his meal.

“More spice please.” He asked cutely pressing a kiss to your neck. 

San:

Sweet, sweet karma. What did you do to deserve this? You thought with a grin. Everytime you had a hangover San was the first to unleash all hell at you. He played loud music in the morning. He “dropped” pans while making breakfast. But worst of all....without fail, he dragged you to the gym and made you work out with him. He claimed it was the best cure for a hangover. 

Now here he lay, still completely knocked out from the night before. Your boyfriend’s legs were tangled in the sheets and his arms were wrapped tightly around a pillow, a sad replacement for your body. “Sweet revenge, you are mine.” Swiftly you kicked San’s leg only earning a groan from the man. “San,” you sang.

“What.” The man said lifting his head up and glaring at your smiling face. 

“Did you have a little too much fun last night, baby?”

“No.” He simply hugged the pillow tighter and attempted to go back to sleep. 

San flinched, grabbing his head as you slammed down his favorite sneakers on the nightstand. “You what the best cure for a hangover is?” Knowing he wasn’t going to answer you yanked the blankets away. San whined and groaned like a little child. “A workout.”

“NO!”

Depsite his protests, like your boyfriend had done to you many times, you now dragged him to the gym and forced him through a seemingly endless exercise routine. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight beside you. San looked terrible as he struggled to keep up with your pace on the treadmill. “You good to keep going?” He glared knowing it was not a question but his face quickly changed. 

“Fuck- I’m gonna be sick.”

Jumping off the machine, San sprinted to the gym’s bathrooms, most likely to wrench his guts out. Emerging, San wiped his mouth and looked at you with a guilty smile. “What are you never ever going to do again?”

“I will never make you work out with a hangover.”

“Good,” Laughing you watched his face twist embarrassment. Regardless, he leaned down capturing your lips in a kiss. You curled away, shivering. “Okay, I love you but no more kisses until you’ve brushed your teeth and showered.”

Mingi:

Your head was pounding. Thankfully your bedroom was still dark except for the small source of light emitting from your boyfriend’s phone. “Mingi?” The boy turned hearing his name. His head was resting against the head board, colored hair sticking up in random places. 

Little blue rectangles reflected the screen of his phone in his glasses. “Hi, baby,” He mumbled, voice still raw. Like the big baby he was, Mingi rolled over ontop of you, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“What time is it?”

“Early....but late....but also early...”

“Mingi are you still drunk from last night?” He shook his head, nuzzling into your neck. He was unquestionably still drunk. The boys had roped you into their crazy antics which resulted in you and Mingi drunkenly stumbling into a cab back to your apartment. Mingi did have.....a lot...to drink. Way more than you. 

“Lemme get the curtains.” With a goofy smile, Mingi pecked your lips before his tall form wobbled over to the covered window. Pulling back the curtains he gasped and turned to you cutely. “Babe!” You snorted at your cute, still  tipsy, boyfriend. “Shit! It’s dark outside! Did we sleep the whole day?” 

Laughing, you checked your phone. “Mingi, it’s just raining. It’s only 10:00 AM.” Feeling the effects of your growing hangover you snuggled back under the covers. “Babyyyyy, come back to bed.” You whined watching Mingi mess with something on his phone.

“Noooo! I’m up! Oh my god! Y/n! Let’s dance!” 

Mingi began playing a loud sound on his phone and dancing over the foot of the bed. “Baby.....you’re still drunk.” He shook his head and began singing the lyrics quite loudly. Headache spiking, you covered your ears.

Launching the nearest pillow at him quickly shut your boyfriend up. “Why did you do that?” He asked with a pout. 

“Aww bub...come back to bed.” Finally obliging, Mingi crawled back into your arms and the two of you slept off the remaining effects of alcohol. 

Wooyoung:

You awoke to heavenly smells of something good floating from your kitchen. Squinting at the bright light in your room you sat up and turned to see Wooyoung’s side of the bed cold and empty. 

“Woo?”

Your throat was dry and scratchy as you called out to your boyfriend. It shocked you to see your usually stoic and sarcastic boyfriend rush into the room, spoon in hand. “You’re awake?” He asked quietly. You groaned as Wooyoung pounced on top of you in a bear hug. “How bad is your hangover?” He asked kissing all over your face. 

“Very bad.”

“Well, you did try to drink San under the table.”

Your eyebrow quirked up and Wooyoung laughed at your sleepy face. “The question is....did I win?” He laughed even more before nodding. “Then I deem this hangover- ‘worth it’.”Gently, Wooyoung tucked his hands under your legs and lifted you up.

You were glad your sore muscles didn’t have to move much as your newly doting boyfriend carried you into the kitchen, even setting you down on a stool at the counter. This was a new side of Wooyoung you hadn’t seen. 

“Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?”

“Hangover soup just for you, love.”

You watched him cut the remaining vegetables and ingredients with expert skill and slide them across the cutting board and into the pot. Watching Wooyoung move around the kitchen like it was second nature sent a warm bubbly feeling to your chest and stomach. “Were you always this domestic?” You asked resting your chin against your palm.

A light layer of sweat rested on his forehead, pieces of black hair clinging to the skin. The steam from the pot after up onto his handsome face.  “Does it turn you on?” He answered wiggling his eyebrows.

“And there is my horny, evil, chaotic Wooyoung.” 

The corner of his lips lifted up in a smile as he ladled the warm homemade soup into bowls. Setting yours in front of you with a kiss on the cheek he encouraged you to eat. “You love me all the same.”

“Yes. Thank you for taking care of me,” A smile filled your face as you tried some of the soup, Wooyoung anxiously awaiting your opinion. You nodded eagerly and quickly ate the rest of the bowl, feeling better by the second. 

Jongho:

“Never again. Never again will I drink.”

The phrase left your lips like a mantra as you rolled around in bed. The room was dark, blinds drawn and your head stuffed under the covers. Your whole body was sore and your head was throbbing. “Oh...shit....here it comes.” You cried feeling the contents of your stomach begin to crawl up your throat. 

Rushing to the bathroom you hurled into the white porcelain bowl. You hated throwing up. Not being able to stand the vile taste in your mouth, you immediately brushed your teeth. Grabbing your phone on the way back to the warmth and comfort of your bed, you unlocked it and winced at the harsh blue light.

Pressing the device to your ear, you listened to the dial tone and awaited the sweet sound of your boyfriend’s voice. “Hi my baby!” Jongho greeted in English. Despite the piercing volume of his voice, you couldn't help but grin. How was it possible you were dating the cutest man on the entire planet. “Say hi to Atiny!” Nevermind. He was no longer cute. He put you on speaker phone. 

“Hi, Atiny! Jongho, darling, take me off speaker for a sec.” 

He hummed in response. “Did you just wake up? When I left you last night you tried to get me to dance the Harlem Shake with you.” You covered your face in embarrassment. You and Jongho and gone out last night and you may have had way too much to drink. 

“What time is it?”

“Like.....4 pm.”

“OH MY GOD!”

Jongho’s laugh was like music to your ears. “Should I come over later? I’m done about seven-ish.” Groaning you rolled over, struggling against the urge to vomit again. “Is that a no groan, a yes groan, or I’m too hungover to speak groan?”

“You said seven? Could you bring medicine..........and pizza.....yeah. Lots of pizza.”

“So pizza, meds, anything else?”

“Nope! I love youuuu!”

Jongho chuckled over the phone. “I love you too, baby. See you later,”

Masterlist

[honeytae]

Stop running from love.

hey bubs! honestly..i don’t know what this is lol it kind of got away from me. but it’s loosely based off of safety net by ariana grande. which is like one of my favorite songs in existence. i hope you guys like this angsty little piece of nothing?? lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @jjlovr2015 genre: angst, fluff? word count: 2.2k

if you would like to listen, here it is:

You were doing it again.

Sabotaging yourself. Running away. Ghosting a man who had only ever shown you the utmost care and respect.

He’d already called multiple times today, frantic texts showing that he was now beyond worried at the way you’d seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. 

You couldn’t blame him. You’d been exclusively dating for three months. Three beautiful and happy months alongside a great guy whose smile brightened every room he graced with his precious presence. Three months that you’d been able to not go into a panic about that very concept.

Until you fell.

The last time you’d seen Jimin was last week when he’d met with you after work for a quick bite to eat.

It was the same place you always went to; you didn’t even have to ask where you were meeting anymore, already on your way to the booth in the back corner with a stupid grin on your face.

The checker floored diner had become a regular spot for you two to stop at, as it was in the middle of the city and perfectly placed between both of your jobs.

That quick bite to eat had easily turned into a full dinner, along with a dessert that’s whipped cream ended up on the tip of his nose in an instant, your giggles causing him to grin wider as he played dumb.

It was simple, not extravagant or fancy by any means, but that was never needed with him. You always had so much fun with Jimin. He was gentle, sweet, caring. All the right things. 

And it was when he was walking you back up to your apartment, his hand gripping yours in a way that was soft yet secure, sparkling eyes pressing into crescents when he smiled over at you that you came to a stunning realization; you were falling in love with him. 

With a panicked last press of your lips to his cheek, you’d closed your door, leaning back against it as you stared ahead of you, absolutely paralyzed in the silence of your apartment.

You could not be in love. What even is love? Heartbreak, that’s what it is. One way or another, it will always end. You needed to pull back before you got too invested. But, fuck, was it too late?

Erupting into hysterics as you came to terms with what had to be done to protect both yourself and Jimin, you slid your back down the wood, placing your forehead on your knees as you curled up into yourself. 

Since then, you’d made it your mission to put him off, every text going unanswered and each call going to voicemail. 

And now here you were in your bed in the early hours of the afternoon, shades drawn to encase the room in pitch black. It matched your mood, frustrated and angry with yourself as you cried into your pillow. 

You hated yourself for doing this to him. Shutting him out with no explanation; he deserves more than you. In the end, this was to his benefit. He’d go on to find someone worthy of his companionship, someone who didn’t want to disappear at the concept of love. 

Someone with less baggage to drag along with them, someone who had a healthy idea of relationships and wasn’t shattered at their core. 

While it was painful to ignore him without giving a reason, you knew he’d give up on you eventually. Everyone always did, and it was just for the best. 

You hiccuped another sob as your phone buzzed on the table yet again, grabbing the pillow from beside you to sandwich your head between the mattress and the fluffy material, effectively muffling the noise of the vibration as you screwed your sore eyes shut. 

“Love?”

You froze at the sudden unmistakable sound of Jimin’s voice calling for you, head spinning as you shut your eyes tighter. 

Were you imagining Jimin’s voice beside you? Were you that far gone?

You were proven wrong when the blanket was pulled off of your body, cold air hitting the bare skin of your arms as the pillow was removed from atop your head. 

You gasped at the sudden exposure, prying your eyes open to look up at none other than Jimin, the hurt and worried look on his face immediately causing you to sob again. 

“Shit, baby, come here.” He rushed to sit down beside you, you easily crawling onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back, palm smoothing up and down your spine as he slowly rocked you back and forth. 

You sat there silently, letting yourself be comforted by him. For some reason, Jimin was harder to push away than the others. His arms felt so nice around you, like home. 

But this had to be done. You wanted him to stay like this in your memory, his image remaining undamaged by any painful breakup. 

“Jimin, I-I can’t see you anymore. We can’t be together.” You forced out, heart twisting in agony at the silence ensuing after your words, Jimin shifting you up his lap to look at you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked in disbelief, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes widened, you shaking your head instead of giving him a verbal answer due to the growing lump in your throat at his undeniably heartbroken expression. 

“We just can’t, Jimin.” You said lamely, your tight grip on his arm contradicting your words as his mouth gaped open at you. 

“Wh- what’s wrong? What did I do?” He asked desperately, causing you to sob harder at him blaming himself for this. 

“It’s not you, Jimin. You’re amazing, you deserve a better person.” You sniffled, Jimin immediately pulling a face of further confusion as he shook his head to dismiss your words. 

“A better- what are you talking about?” He asked, chasing your eyes as you chose to divert them to stare at the blank wall in front of you. 

“You deserve someone amazing just like you, Jimin.” You mumbled, the man sitting there in silence before he shifted off of the bed, making you think you’d finally pushed him away. 

The feeling of his weight being removed from the bed both pained and relieved you, happy for him to be able to move on now, but sad at that same idea. 

But you were taken by surprise when Jimin kneeled on the floor in front of you, forcing you to look at him as he reached up to hold your chin, eyes imploring yours to be more upfront with him. 

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. What are you talking about?” He repeated his question, silence lingering in the air at the words as you sat anxiously plucking the sheets below you with your fingers. 

“Baby.” He called for you, his hurt tone causing your nose to scrunch up with more tears, his thumbs catching the salty water as his expression became more pained by the second. 

“Let me in. Please, just let me in.” He pleaded with you, voice soft yet firm as he watched you break down in front of him, heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of losing you from his life because of whatever insecurities you were not telling him about. 

“I’m fucking broken, Jimin. You don’t want to be let in, believe me.” You said, voice weak and wavering from the emotions bubbling up in your throat, shaky from the nights of no sleep you'd gotten in the last week. 

“Yes, I do. I’d accept all of you if you just gave me a chance.” He gripped your hands with his, intertwining your fingers to give a reassuring squeeze.

Staring at him, you did not know what to say. Nobody had ever pushed back on your walls like this. They accepted it, moved on, and lived a better life without you in it. You just wished Jimin would do the same.

But he was fighting you on it. Fighting you on something you didn’t even want to do in the first place. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And that fucking terrifies me.” You explained shakily, concentrating on the feeling of Jimin’s palm running up and down your arm. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, either. It’s new, of course it’s scary. But I care about you, I want you, I miss you. I don’t want you to shut me out.” He said softly, his honeyed voice soothing you enough to make eye contact with his gentle brown orbs. 

It was silent as you stared at each other, fear in his eyes and the same reflecting in your own. Studying his features, your heart twisted at his uncharacteristically dark circles, realizing he was probably running on the same amount of sleep you were at the moment. 

“I don’t know where to go from here.” You sniffled, Jimin tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his glassy eyes stared back at you. 

Feeling confident enough to stand from the floor and sit beside you on the bed, he let you guide him up against the headboard, resting your backs on it as you let out a sigh.

“Stop pushing me away. Stop running from love.” He responded, his words sounding so genuine that you nearly burst out into tears again. 

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing your temple on his shoulder as his arms encircled your torso. 

“I want to be with you.” You admitted in a hoarse whisper, head throbbing as you rested your weight on Jimin, body giving out in exhaustion as he held you to him, delicate as if you’d break. Hell, maybe you would. 

“Me too.” He said without missing a beat, eagerness evident in his tone as you let your aching eyes fall shut. 

“I just don’t know how.” You sighed, the man humming in response as he threaded his fingers through your hair, rubbing your scalp soothingly as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. 

“We can figure it out together, okay? I don’t want to throw in the towel. Not without at least a little bit of a fight.” He joked, the heavy mood in the room being lightened a bit at the sound of your exhaled laugh. 

You lifted your head to look at him, opening your eyes to meet his own in the dark room, barely able to make out his features as the sun must have gone in behind the clouds outside your bedroom.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, Jimin. I’m a mess. If you want to run, go now.” You spoke seriously, one corner of the man’s lips lifting as he bit down on his cheek, a habit you’d picked up early on as behavior he exhibited when he was hesitant to say something. 

“Listen, I’m a mess too. This is nothing.” He reassured you, your eyes studying his features as he seemed to express a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before with him. 

“Trying to break up with you because of my own baggage and insecurities? That’s nothing?” You asked with a humorless chuckle, causing the man to reach out for your hand, sighing out a breath of relief when you let him lock his fingers around yours again.

“Well, I guess that in itself is something.” He shrugged, shuffling to hover over you as your red eyes met his. 

“But I will always fight for you. You’re worth fighting for.” He said firmly, your eyes becoming glassed over again before you picked your head up off the pillow to catch his lips in a kiss, your palms sliding to the back of his neck as his plush lips worked over yours. 

Sensing your emotions, he pulled back only slightly to press his lips over your closed eyelids, the tender action causing your frown to deepen as you gazed up at the sweet man. 

“I’m not going to leave you. Whatever’s been done to you in the past, I’m not a repeat of that. I would never do anything to hurt you, I promise.” He said softly, his words seemingly making your heart alive again as it began to pound rapidly in your chest. 

And with that, you threw caution to the wind. Even if he broke your heart, you couldn’t stop that from cutting your experience with him shorter than it had to be. 

Because Jimin was the softest, sweetest, most lovable man you’d ever met. He showed time and time again that he cared about you, that he wasn’t like the others. And to give him up just because of some bad past experiences was just not worth it. 

“I trust you.” You whispered, almost scared to let the words fall from your lips, but relieved when you saw the wide smile on Jimin’s face. 

“I trust you, too.” He said softly, tracing his finger over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you again, laying down beside you to spoon your body with his, pressing his lips against your shoulder in a soothing action. 

Laying in his arms, you felt more at peace than you’d felt in days. Being back in his embrace, you felt like you could breathe again, easily falling into much needed sleep with his warmth pressed to your back, his arms looped around your body as he pressed tender kisses to the shell of your ear. 

Jimin was your home. And it felt so good to be home. 

[sassyhobbits]

for one night standards would you write a scene where aelin cant be found in the castle maybe bc shes doing sth ridiculous with her daughter like a mother daughter photoshoot to surprise rowan with later but when rowan can't find her he gets all panicked and out of his mind bc he still has unresolved trauma from when she was kidnapped and its all angsty until he has both back in his arms but also gives rowan a chance to talk and work through his experience with aelin gone? (because lets face it he probably ignores his feelings about that as much as possible in order to not burden aelin further and because it was just too painful)

loved this idea!!! i also added the prompt “Because I know when I open my eyes this will all turn out to be a dream and I’ll lose you again“ Thank you to everyone who supported ONS!! i had such a fun time writing it and im always happy to come back to it. enjoy!!

~~~

Rowan Whitethorn was generally a patient man.

He knew how to wait his turn, to take his time. He was always one to raise a brow at those who seemed to be in a harried rush to everything. It seemed stressful, to say the least. He was perfectly content to sit back when needed.

Except for now.

He had made a trip back home to Doranelle to surprise Isolde for her graduation from her masters program. Aelin had wanted to come as well, but with the baby and the responsibilities she had back in Orynth, it just hadn’t worked out. Still, she sent her well-wishes to Isolde through a video chat, letting little Eliora babble into the camera and say hello as well.

Their daughter was just over six months now, already growing far too fast for Rowan’s liking. He treasured every moment he got to spend with his two favorite girls.

And although he was always happy to see his family back in Doranelle, it had been the longest he had been away since Eliora had been born. It made him highly impatient to return home.

His jet touched down in Terrasen in the early afternoon. It was summer, though the day was mild. The sky was a vivid blue, fat white clouds floating lethargically on the breeze. Absolutely beautiful.

Due to the time difference, he hadn’t been able to call Aelin before he had got on the plane. He tried to reach her as he slid into the dark sedan that would drive him from the airport to the palace, but all he got was her voicemail.

Maybe she was in the shower, or changing Eliora’s diaper. Maybe their daughter had a finicky night of sleeping and now the pair were trying to catch up on their slumber. It was fine. Or so Rowan told himself. He still hadn’t been able to stop the small clench of nerves at the pit of his stomach.

He scolded those foolish feelings. Of course his wife and daughter were safe. They were just waiting for him to return.

The drive was quick and easy and he was back at the palace before he knew it. His feet carried him towards the room he shared with Aelin, a small smile curling on his lips as he thought about having his wife and daughter in his arms once more. He missed the feeling of Aelin curled against him as they slept.

“Aelin?” he called, pushing into their room and nudging the door shut behind him. “I’m home.”

He was greeted by nothing but silence. No sound of running water in the bathroom to suggest a shower, so soft snores or shifting sheets meaning a nap. He strode into the bedroom, finding that the bed was already neatly made, not a thread out of place.

He dropped his bags by the dresser, noting that Aelin’s phone had been left there, face up. He picked it up, seeing that she still had the notification of a missed call from him and a few miscellaneous emails that hadn’t been checked.

“Aelin?” he said again, moving towards the nursery. He had gotten used to the sight of Aelin sitting in the rocking chair with Eliora, either when the babe was hungry or she just wanted to hold her daughter. Rowan had countless pictures on his phone of the two of them in that position. The sunlight streamed from the window and hit them just right in the mornings, making them look like a painting.

But the nursery was empty and the window was shut.

Those nerves reared their ugly heads once more. He had no reason to assume the worst, the palace was one of the safest places in the kingdom.

But… Aelin had once been snatched away from him on palace grounds. During their own wedding.

Rowan shook himself. No. That was the past. This was now.

Since his wife didn’t have her phone, he knew it would be fruitless to try and contact her that way. But, Rowan knew Aelin better than he knew himself.

He began a sweep of the palace, checking out her favorite haunts. The library was a bust, so was the gym. He had checked the kitchens to see if she had swooped in for a snack or something sweet, but she wasn’t there either. Rowan luckily ran into Aedion, asking the prince if he knew where Aelin was. But her cousin hadn’t seen her at all that morning.

With each failed attempt at finding them, Rowan’s fears steadily crept up. It wouldn’t be much longer before they had wrapped themselves around his throat and pulled him deep into their depths.

He took a long breath to center himself before striding out into the gardens. His heart started beating faster, not seeing any sign of her at first. Rowan’s fingers curled into tight fists as he stepped over fresh, green grass. Gods, where were they? If something had happened to them…

But before Rowan’s fears could conquer him, he heard a soft voice on the summer breeze. A familiar voice at that. Relief washed through him, heavenly and soothing, as he followed that melodic sound.

It was Aelin. It didn’t take him long to realize that she was reading one of Eliora’s favorite books to her. It was a silly tale, and it was made even more vivid when Aelin told it. She was an excellent story-teller. They didn’t know how much Eliora really understood, whether she just liked the brightly colored pictures or the faces her mother would make when she told it. Regardless, it always made the little princess smile.

Rowan rounded a hedge, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight before him.

Aelin had spread out a large quilt under the shade of a willow. Some of Eliora’s toys were scattered about, but currently, the toddler sat in her mother’s lap, wide-eyes glued on the book before her.

Rowan couldn’t help but think Aelin looked stunning today. Her golden hair was left loose, swaying on the breeze, the summer sun bringing a healthy flush to her cheeks. She wore a silky, pale blue wrap-dress, bare feet tucked beneath her as she read. Eliora looked mighty charming too in a bright pink dress with a matching bow.

Rowan strolled towards them, Aelin’s eyes jumping towards him as she noticed his presence. A huge smile broke out on her stunning face.

“You’re home!” she greeted, putting the book she had been reading aloud down. Eliora, no longer entertained by her mother’s storytelling, crawled over the quilt to grab one of her brightly colored toys. “I thought you were going to call me when you landed?”

“I did, Fireheart,” Rowan said. He lowered herself behind Aelin on the blanket, his wife situated between his legs, before wrapping his arms tightly around her and tugging her back into his chest securely. “You left your phone in our room.”

Rowan placed a lingering kiss on Aelin's shoulder, breathing in her scent deeply. She was safe, in his arms, Eliora happy as can be, sticking her toys in her mouth. Everything was fine.

Aelin turned in his arms slightly, brows knitted slightly. Rowan knew she could see right through him.

“What is it, Ro?”

“It’s nothing, love.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, as if to say, Don’t you lie to me, Buzzard.

Rowan heaved a sigh, reaching out and brushing some of Aelin’s silky hair behind her ear. “It’s just… you didn’t answer me when I called, and I couldn’t find you and Eliora when I got back. I just couldn’t help but think…” His hand drifted until it rested on Aelin’s abdomen, right over the scar she bore from fighting her way to freedom. He saw understanding on his wife’s face.

“We’re here, Rowan. We’re safe.” She placed a gentle hand on Rowan’s cheek, bringing his gaze towards her.

“I know,” Rowan whispered, jaw clenched. “But sometimes, I just worry that when I open my eyes, this will all turn out to be a dream. And I’ll lose you all over again.”

Aelin took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “This is real, Rowan. We both fought for this life, for each other. And nothing, nothing, is going to take it away. Ever.”

Rowan saw the determination blazing in Aelin’s eyes. She was right, of course. This was their life now, they had built their happiness bit by bit, even when so much seemed to want to go wrong. But Aelin and Eliora… they were everything to him. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to banish his fears entirely, but he would treasure every moment he spent with them.

Rowan leaned in, kissing Aelin softly before murmuring against her lips, “I missed you.”

She smiled, kissing him again. “I missed you too, Ro.”

They indulged in a few more slow, sweet kisses before loud babbling sounded, tiny hands twisting into Rowan’s trouser. He looked down, finding Eliora’s wide eyes looking up at him, flashing a gummy smile.

Aelin laughed. “It looks like someone else missed you, too.”

Rowan grinned, reaching out and picking up his daughter. He held her up high, making her release the sweetest little laughs, little legs kicking in delight. He kissed Eliora all over her little face before tucking her in one arm, throwing the other around Aelin. Immense love and devotion flowed through him, holding his two girls close.

No wonder why he had been so impatient to get home.

[bbangsoonie]

find me in your memory

member: sangyeon genre: angst word count: 10,200 synopsis: when you return to korea in hopes of recovering your lost memories, one of your new housemates seems oddly familiar. warning(s): inaccurate depiction of amnesia

Prologue:

You had locked yourself in a bathroom stall to run away from everyone’s obvious trying-not-to-stare glances. Your hand clenched around your phone as you stared at the top trending news article. Your father had officially announced his plans to advance his political career and alongside his name were the names of the rest of your family. Your mother, a renown actress. Your brother, a retired swimmer and a rising musician. And you, a rookie model who already walked in various fashion shows.

You were annoyed that your father chose today of all days to release the news. Today was White Day, meaning that boys were throwing you sweets left and right. You hated the extra attention and hated that you had to maintain elegance through it all. It was already bad enough that tonight was some fancy party your father arranged for the purpose of publicity and networking. You would be hiding under a mask all day and night now.

You sighed at the sound of the bell ringing to notify the students that lunch time was over. You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and braced yourself before you returned to your classroom.

People had already whispered about you in the hallways but your classroom erupted into full blown gossip. You heard guys discussing the news and girls expressing their jealousy.

“I guess the princess might actually become a princess now.” one girl said rather loudly. “Look at her. Pretending not to hear all of us. She must think we’re too lowly to even converse with.”

Her friend’s eyes widened at her bold outburst and tried to shush her.

“What? I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.” the girl freed herself from her friend’s grasp and blatantly stood in front of your desk. “Tell me, Y/n, am I wrong?”

You looked up to meet her eyes with a neutral expression. You wanted nothing more than to grab the opportunity to pick a fight with her. But you knew you would face repercussions with your parents so all you could do was force a small smile.

Before the girl could say something more, your homeroom teacher entered the room. Everyone quickly dispersed and found their seats.

“Y/n? Your father’s secretary is here to pick you up. You’ll be leaving school early today.” he said.

The statement prompted more hushed whispers as your classmates speculated the reason why you were being pulled out of class. Without a word, you grabbed your backpack and left. The secretary led you out of the building and into a black car.

You pulled out your phone and earbuds to accompany you for the ride. Closing your eyes, you rested your head on the window and increased the volume of your music. Your brother had sent you the guide for the song he was working on and asked for your opinion. You had grumpily agreed, slightly irked that he only contacted you for things like this.

You hated Younghoon for leaving you alone in this family. He was your father’s pride and joy when he was a national athlete. Granted, he was miserable his whole life pursuing swimming when all he wanted to do was sing. But still, you never expected him to suddenly retire and switch careers without confronting your parents. He simply packed up and left. Without a warning or explanation, he just moved out. By himself. Without you.

Now, all the burden of maintaining the family’s image was on you. You had been pushed into the modeling industry so your father could have a pretty face to marry off later on. However, with Younghoon leaving the sports scene, your father was furious that your entire family were all entertainers without higher aspirations. It was too late for you to learn a sport so now you were to get accepted into Seoul University’s business school. Your father insisted on having at least one socially respectable child.

Your brother spent the last couple of years cutting contact with the family. He refused to attend events or partake in promotional photoshoots. The only time you could ever see him was when he came to take the annual family portrait. That was the only duty he would now fulfill as the eldest son of the Kim family.

You hated him but you also couldn’t despise him. If your affection for him were to turn sour, you’d truly be alone in this world. Yet you were still upset every time your calls went to his voicemail and he replied with a text hours later to apologize. You knew he was busy making up for lost time but it still hurt that he was able to enjoy his freedom while you remained suffocated.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.” the secretary spoke.

You opened your eyes and saw that the car pulled up in front of a beauty salon. You sighed, realizing you would have to get your hair and makeup done. So you went, sitting in front of a mirror for hours as people hovered around you to make you presentable for the reporters that would welcome you with endless camera flashes. By the time they finished, you were given a white silky dress to wear. It was as if your parents wanted to send you off to get married right away.

Keeping your complaints to yourself, you got dressed and were rushed to the party. Your parents were already inside, meaning you had to face the cameras alone. Reporters shouted questions at you; the topics ranged from your outfit to your father’s political plans to your brother’s absence. Ignoring them all, you put on your capitalistic smile and posed. You then bid them goodbye and entered the venue.

It was packed with politicians and businessmen. You walked around, looking for the protagonist of this event. Your father had organized tonight under the guise of celebrating your mother’s upcoming film but the true celebration was the release of today’s news. He was here to garner support for his political campaign and he sure had a flamboyant way of doing it.

“My daughter!” you heard your mother’s voice call out.

You turned around and saw your mother beckoning you over. You put on another smile as you approached your parents. Your father pulled you in for a light hug and introduced you to the man in front of him.

“Y/n, this is Assemblyman Lee. We’ve grown quite close this past year. Assemblyman Lee, this is the daughter I’ve been bragging to you about. She’s even prettier in person, right?” he let out a hearty laugh.

You respectfully bowed and personally introduced yourself to the assemblyman.

“Yes, she is very beautiful indeed.” Assemblyman Lee agreed, joining his laughter. He then presented the tall male next to him. “This is my son, Juyeon. I believe he is the same age as you, Y/n.”

“He plays basketball and even modeled for Seoul Fashion Week.” your father mentioned. “Perhaps you’ve seen or heard of him before?”

“I think we may have passed by each other once or twice that day.” you smiled. To be honest, it was your first time meeting him.

“Assemblyman Lee and I get along like family and we were talking about becoming an actual family once you graduate college.” your father beamed.

Those words made your stomach drop. You knew you’d never get to choose your own partner but now that it was actually happening, you froze. Reality suddenly hit you like a truck. You were never going to have control over anything in your life. You were nothing but a pawn in your father’s journey to the Blue House.

You looked over at Juyeon who looked just as uncomfortable as you. This was the man who you were probably going to spend the rest of your life with and you had no idea what he was like. For all you knew, he could end up hating your guts. You felt panic taking over and excused yourself for an urgent visit to the bathroom.

Your vision was blurred as you quickly exited the ballroom and desperately searched for a private room. All you could think about was your brother.

Younghoon.

Younghoon.

Younghoon.

You needed him. His name was the only thing your brain could think of. You needed him to tell you that everything would be okay. That he would come save you. You knew it would be a lie but you needed to hear it anyway.

Once you found an unlocked storage room, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor. With trembling hands, you dialed your brother’s number and waited for him to pick up. You called him five times but only heard the line ring. Fighting back tears, you cursed him in your head.

You spent the next half hour trying to calm yourself down. Squatting down, you rocked back and forth with your hands covering your ears to block out the noise outside. Your hyperventilation was slowing and you weren’t struck by the fear of dying anymore. By the time you settled down, you felt numb.

With a solemn expression, you stepped out of the storage room. Avoiding the crowd, you wandered around until you found a back exit. Before you opened the door, however, you realized how much you’d stand out in your current attire. You called for the secretary and asked for one of your spare school uniforms. You changed into the blouse and skirt but left out the tie and jacket. Not having sneakers to change into, you kept your heels on.

You insisted that he return to the party and not follow you. You promised you’d be home by evening and shooed him away.

Now that you were finally free, you didn’t know where to go. School was already dismissed but the sun had yet to set. Without any plans, you just started walking. As you kept walking, you found yourself in front of your school.

You laughed in disbelief. Apparently this was the only place other than home that you knew. Finding yourself pathetic, you continued to walk up the path to the building.

The soccer team was still on the field practicing. You sat on a bench, watching them run and kick the ball around. You didn’t know a thing about the sport but found it oddly soothing to mindlessly stare.

After a while, you got tired of it and got up. You let your feet decide where to go next and ended up on the rooftop. The sky was now a golden color. You didn’t remember when you last saw such a view.

At that moment, your phone rang. It was Younghoon finally returning your missed calls. You stared at the screen, debating whether to pick up or not. By his second call, you decided to answer.

“Y/n! Is something wrong? Are you okay?” he asked as soon as you clicked “accept”.

You honestly didn’t know how to reply to his question. Looking back, you wondered if you had ever been “okay” in your life. Was this living or was this just enduring?

“I’m so sorry I missed your calls. I was at the recording studio.” he apologized. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” you lied. “I just missed you. A lot.”

You heard him let out a sigh of relief. Then his guilty voice.

“I miss you too.” he paused. “Listen, I’m extremely sorry for leaving you to deal with Father. I just… I couldn’t handle it anymore. I felt like I was gonna go insane. I could put up with everything but his demand to quit music. That was the last straw. It was the only bit of freedom I ever enjoyed and I couldn’t have that taken away from me as well.”

“But what about my freedom?” you wanted to ask.

“I know I’m a terrible brother. And an even worse son.” he admitted.

Not wanting him to feel sorry, you muttered a soft “whatever”.

“Once I finish recording this song, I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to sneak you out for a sibling date.” he said.

This was the seventh time he made this promise. Either he was always too busy or you could never escape the tight schedule set for you. But like the six other times before, you pretended to believe it.

The call ended soon after and you were left alone in silence. The tranquility on the roof contrasted the storm inside your head. You had spent your entire life striving to achieve your parents’ impossible standards. You were never enough. Never smart enough. Never pretty enough. Never social enough.

Everyone at school saw you as little miss perfect. It brought you both unwanted attention and hatred. People saw you as unapproachable and snobby. Some even expressed their disgust at how fake you seemed. At the same time, there were those who wanted to use you and your connections. There was always someone who wanted something from you.

You felt trapped.

The edge of the roof seemed to call and entice you. As if in a trance, you walked over to the wall and climbed on top of it. You sat on the ledge and took in a deep breath. You stared at the sight in front of you. Most of the soccer team had left school grounds by now. You only heard scattered voices here and there. It was probably the remaining students hollering at each other across the field.

The rest of the world seemed so peaceful. It felt like you were the only one unable to escape chaos. You swung your legs, enjoying the evening breeze. You didn’t want to ever leave this spot.

Your phone vibrated, notifying you of a new message.

“You’ll be meeting Juyeon this weekend. I expect it to go better than tonight.” it read.

Your grip on the device tightened. Without giving you a break, another message from your father arrived.

“Also, your exam scores came out. Your ranking dropped to fourth place. We’ll talk at home.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to pull your hair out and cry. Instead, you stood up and glared at the phone in your hand. Your hand was now trembling because of how tightly you were holding it.

By now, emotions were beyond you. Feeling pity for yourself was nothing but a waste of time. It didn’t fix things and it surely didn’t make you feel any better. You were just tired of it all.

Allowing yourself one last angry outburst, you threw your phone down. You didn’t watch it fall from the roof and hit the ground. It instantly broke on contact. Unbeknownst to you, the fall startled a male student passing by.

“What the heck?” Sangyeon exclaimed out loud. He had stuck around after school to watch Sunwoo’s soccer practice. They were about to head out for dinner when he remembered that he left his wallet in his locker. He had sent his friend ahead first as he ran back inside to grab it.

He took a closer look at what almost hit his head and was puzzled to see a phone. Looking for the lunatic who nearly killed him, he lifted his head to see where it came from. After his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he gasped when he saw you standing on the ledge of the rooftop. Getting a bad feeling, he found himself running up the steps. The whole time, “please don’t die” raced through his head.

By the time he made it up to the roof, he was sweaty and out of breath. He wanted to collapse in exhaustion but his eyes widened as you began to inch towards the edge. His body reacted before his mind and he ran to pull you off.

The sudden grip on your wrist spun you around and you fell in what felt like slow motion. You landed on the boy’s chest that was breathing hard. You could hear his heart pump like crazy and his eyes were still closed in fright.

Realizing what just happened, you quickly got off him and dusted yourself off.

“What was that for?” you asked in a hostile tone.

Finally catching his breath, he opened his eyes and jumped up. His eyes almost bulged when he recognized your face.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled, pretending not to know who you were.

“You’re the crazy one butting into other people’s business.” you frowned.

For someone who was about to jump off a building, you looked eerily calm. Sangyeon searched for any signs of distress in your eyes but could only spot annoyance. Still, his gut told him that something was wrong. The empty look on your face scared him.

“Well while we’re in the middle of crazy anyway, why don’t you tell me what pushed you this far?” he bravely inquired. “Bottling everything inside alone will only make things worse. It’s better to just spill everything to a complete stranger you won’t ever see again.”

It was out of character for him to be so nosy but he strangely felt a strong desire to help you. As for you, you normally would have walked away from this situation minutes ago. Yet you still stood in front of this odd boy who demanded to be your impromptu diary.

He intrigued you. He was knocking at the stone wall you put up years ago. He seemed so bright and innocent. It bothered you.

Despite your irritation, something about his eyes made yours water. The way his eyes softened as he looked at you made you feel vulnerable. It seemed as if he could read you like an open book. It brought a wave of emotions you had suppressed for so long.

He stepped closer and offered you a comforting pat on the shoulder. The second his hand made contact, your tears finally escaped and ran down your face. You hadn’t felt the warmth of another human since you last saw your brother. The sudden consolation broke you. Then, like the domino effect, your sobs turned into bawling as your facade crumbled at last.

Sangyeon was shocked to say the least. He never would have thought the Y/n would be crying in his arms. In fact, he never expected to ever cross paths with you. He had only ever heard of you through other students’ gossip. They painted you out to be cold-hearted but the sight in front of him said otherwise.

Hesitantly, he pulled you in for a hug. Recalling how his mom used to comfort him, he tried to soothe you by slowly patting your back. The two of you stayed like that until your cries eventually faded out. Embarrassment belatedly hit you and awkward silence hung in the air. You felt like you owed him an explanation but you couldn’t even pinpoint the exact reason for your actions.

“Thank you.” you muttered softly while sniffling.

Sangyeon smiled in response and rummaged through his pocket to find something. He pulled out a lollipop and handed it to you.

“Even being sad takes energy. You should recharge your blood sugar.” he said as he placed it in your own pocket when you didn’t move to accept it. “Let it all out from time to time. It’s not healthy to always keep negativity inside you.”

You dwelled on his words for a moment. No one had ever told you that before. Everyone was always telling you to tolerate things. You weren’t allowed to disagree with your parents. You had to accept and deal with Younghoon’s departure without expressing how upset you were. You were expected to quietly receive criticism and never retaliate. You figured it was only a matter of time before the pressure eventually set off the bomb inside you. Like today.

Up until now, you thought the only solution for the explosion would be to just end it all. It never occurred to you that you could begin to disobey everything you were taught.

“Thank you.” you repeated. With that, you got up to leave.

“W-Wait!” he called out, causing you to pause. “Where are you going?”

“To eat dinner. You said it takes energy to be sad, right?” you smiled.

Sangyeon didn’t expect to see you again the next day. Cramming last minute for a test, he opted to skip lunch and study at the library instead. After he settled down, he looked up to see across the table. He had to fight the urge to gape.

Feeling someone’s gaze on you, you lifted your head to see the boy in front of you. Recognizing his face, you quickly shut your book closed and got up to leave. He was left flabbergasted at your blatant avoidance of him.

Meanwhile, you were cursing in your head. You chastised yourself for not realizing that he also went to your school. Stupidly, you hadn’t made the connection the day before on the rooftop. Of course he was only there at that hour because he was a student there. Now you were extremely humiliated. And afraid that rumors would spread.

“Hey, wait up!” he called out as he chased after you, earning him a stern glare from the librarian. You didn’t listen and only quickened your pace.

Unfortunately for you, his long legs easily caught up with you. He gently grabbed your wrist to stop you from running away. You scowled when you realized he wouldn’t just ignore you.

“Why are you pretending that you don’t know me?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know who you are,” you deadpanned. Your words rendered him speechless and after a few seconds of silence, you turned around to leave.

“Well, my name is Sangyeon,” he persisted, pointing at his name tag.

He spent the next couple of weeks following you around. At first, you found him annoying. He reminded you of your lowest point in life. But slowly, he wormed his way into your heart and established a place for himself there.

He would greet you each morning with a cheeky smile and a carton of banana milk. To be honest, you didn’t even like banana milk. Yet, you found yourself looking forward to it every day.

Eventually, you two formed an unbreakable bond. He was your only friend and all your free time was spent with him. Every time you felt suffocated by your parents, you reached out to Sangyeon for comfort. You never disclosed anything to him but his presence alone cheered you up. He made you focus on him and forget about everything else. You should’ve known that it was inevitable for you to fall for him.

He was that upperclassman that all the younger female students fawned over. You hated to admit it but you were also among the many who thought he was charming. You felt a pang of jealousy whenever you saw other girls swoon over him as he passed by.

Gradually, your personality began to shift into becoming more lively. You were grateful to have him show you the little things in life. You grew to like yourself and the world a little more.

Present:

You stared at the house in front of you. Twelve years ago, you left this house and town to attend school in Seoul. Seven years ago, you left Korea to move to California. Now, you were back as an adult. It felt strange.

Feeling the winter breeze chill your bones, you shuddered at the cold temperature and hurried inside. You were surprised at how neat the place was; you assumed that someone had been sent to save you from the hassle of cleaning.

Trudging up the stairs, you struggled with your large suitcase. You found your old childhood bedroom and roughly unpacked. Having only less than twelve hours until your new housemates moved in, you felt rushed to get the house ready to meet them. You decided to just wash up and sleep tonight and wake up early in the morning to go grocery shopping.

So you slipped into unconsciousness and spent a relatively quiet night. It wasn’t until morning that you were awoken by a dream. It was the same dream that haunted you for the past seven years. Ever since the accident, the same recurring scene appeared to you in your sleep. To be honest, the exact events were fuzzy but it always left you with the same nostalgic and longing feelings. It bothered you how uneasy it made you feel.

You groaned, noting that your alarm clock hadn’t even rung yet. With a loud sigh, you got up and got dressed. With over a decade between your last visit and the present, you relied on the GPS to navigate your way around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

As you walked around the quiet streets, you took the time to enjoy the scenery. You came back to this town to escape the city life but appreciated that it wasn’t entirely in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily, there was a supermarket nearby. There, you picked out a bunch of ingredients you figured would be used often. You didn’t cook much but wanted to change that.

The trip took longer than expected and you picked up your speed to make it back home before your housemates arrived. You let out a breath of relief when you returned and saw that no one was stuck outside waiting. Humming to a song you didn’t remember the title of, your steps were light as you put away the groceries. When you finished, you took a proper look at the house and were displeased at how bare it was. You made a mental note to buy decorations later to fill your new place with signs of human habitation.

At that moment, the bell rang. Suddenly feeling a bit nervous, you ran to the door. When you opened it, you were greeted by four males who seemed surprised at your appearance.

“Hello! Are you the tenants moving in today?” you asked.

“Yes, I believe we spoke with your… brother? On the phone,” one answered.

“It was probably my father’s secretary that you’ve been in contact with,” you said as you opened the door wider to let them inside. “Please, come in.”

They followed you into the house and dragged their luggage behind them. Once they were all inside, you extended your hand towards them.

“My name is Y/n and I will be the one living here with you all,” you introduced.

“My name is Jacob! I hope we get along well,” the one who first spoke grinned as he shook your hand.

You went down the line, greeting and shaking hands with Changmin and Jaehyun. By the time you got to the last person, however, your hand was left hanging. He stared at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

“I’m Sangyeon. Lee Sangyeon,” he finally said, taking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sangyeon,” you smiled.

You offered them a tour of the house and showed them their respective rooms. While they unpacked, you offered to order food. It was approaching noon and you still hadn’t eaten breakfast. They declined at first but gave in when you insisted on treating them.

By the time the food was delivered, the five of you gathered in the kitchen. You were pouring water for everyone and Jacob began to take out the bowls.

“Jajangmyun is fitting for today, right?” you commented on the Korean tradition of eating Chinese food on moving days.

After everyone was seated, you gestured for them to dig in and began eating. You let out a sigh of happiness at the taste you had missed in the United States. Korean food there just wasn’t the same as Korean food back at home.

“So, Y/n, how did you end up in this town?” Sangyeon asked. Something about his eyes felt intimate yet you still couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.

“I actually just arrived in Korea last night,” you chuckled. “I’ve been living abroad for a while.”

“Abroad? Really?” Jacob perked. “I used to live overseas as well! Toronto, to be exact.”

“I stayed in California for the most part,” you clarified.

“Oh really? California? Los Angeles?” Changmin asked in English. You giggled at his slight accent, finding it cute.

“Yes, I lived in L.A. for 7 years,” you said in English, laughing when Jaehyun’s eyes widened at your pronunciation.

While the four of you chatted, Sangyeon stayed quiet. He watched as Jaehyun asked you about life in America and Changmin told you about the time he visited New York City. He felt a twinge of jealousy when Jacob conversed with you in English.

“It’s definitely Y/n. It has to be. She looks exactly like her and has the same name. But why is she acting like she doesn’t know me? There’s no way she doesn’t remember me,” Sangyeon thought.

The next morning, you woke up early again due to jet lag. Throwing a robe over your pajamas, you headed downstairs to start making breakfast. You rummaged through the fridge, pondering on what to cook. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice someone else enter the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said, startling you.

With a slight jump, you turned around to see Sangyeon. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and exchanged greetings with him. He spotted the gleam of a necklace hidden under your robe and furrowed his brows.

“That’s the necklace I got her. It’s Y/n for sure,” he thought.

Again, you felt his piercing gaze on you. Still unable to understand why he kept staring at you, you awkwardly turned back around. Sangyeon walked towards the kettle to make himself a cup of tea, still conscious of your presence. With that, he went back up to his room, leaving you alone once again.

Eyeing the bag of sliced bread, you decided to just settle for toast. After the simple meal, you went back to your room to get ready. It was the weekend and you planned on shopping for little trinkets to furnish the house with.

When you came back, you found your new cohabitants watching TV in the living room. You politely refused their help with the bags, setting them down on the table. You pulled out a few small photo frames and held them out to show them.

“Aren’t these adorable?” you beamed. “I was thinking of decorating the place with photos. You know, to add some warmth and humanity. Feel free to take a couple and add your own pictures.”

You placed a handful of the frames in front of them, encouraging them to take some. After excusing yourself for a second, you quickly ran up to your room to grab the printed photos on your desk. When you rejoined the group in the living room, you began to insert them into the picture frames.

“Is this from your high school entrance day?” Jaehyun asked, holding a photograph up.

“Yup,” you nodded. “To be honest, though, I don’t really remember much from high school.”

Changmin, finding a photo of you in front of the Hollywood sign, asked if it was taken during your college years.

“Ah, yes that’s when I first began my life in America. I was both anxious and eager to leave Korea behind,” you said, unaware of Sangyeon's wince at your words.

“Oh… Would it be okay for me to ask why?” Jacob asked.

“Of course. It’s all in the past,” you laughed. “I had some bad memories in Seoul and left abruptly at the end of my last year of high school. That was when I moved to L.A. to start anew.”

Sangyeon recalled the day you disappeared. He had texted you, asking to meet at the playground. After finding out about a misunderstanding you had, he wanted to resolve it as soon as possible. He waited there for hours but you never showed. You missed school for a week before your teacher suddenly announced that you would not be returning.

And that was the end of his friendship with you. You left without a warning or farewell. Now, you stood in front of him again. After seven years, he was reunited with you as an adult. He was both excited and confused. When he first saw you at the door, he wanted to blurt your name out and catch up on all the missed time. But when you introduced yourself to him as if it was your first meeting, he found himself doing the same.

At every encounter, you acted as if he was a stranger. At first, he thought you forgot about him and it hurt. But now, he supposed that you just wanted to forget about him. When you mentioned that you had bad memories of Seoul and that you were glad to start fresh in Los Angeles, he realized that he was nothing but a painful past to you.

So he put on a poker face and went along with your little act. For a month, he kept his distance from you and made sure to stay within the strict boundaries of a landlord and a tenant. While his friends grew close to you, he remained reserved.

“Why are you so cold to Y/n?” Changmin once asked him. Sangyeon never answered the question and continued to keep his facade up.

Meanwhile, you were clueless as to why Sangyeon was so standoffish. You had asked his friends, who were a lot more pleasant, if he was normally inhospitable to new people. At their unnatural attempts to change the subject, you figured it was just you that he disliked.

Still, Sangyeon couldn’t hide his innate desire to take care of you in his own ways. Every time your favorite snack ran low in the pantry, he would stack up on it next time he went to the mart. Knowing you hated the cold, he would make sure to keep the house temperature high—even when Jaehyun went to lower it, complaining that he was hot. When you fell asleep on the couch, he would cover you with the blanket you kicked to the floor.

The boy in front of you was extremely close as he reached behind your shoulders to put the necklace on for you. You held your breath and felt your heart race.

“There,” he grinned proudly. “How pretty.”

“Me or the necklace?” you asked, half joking and half serious. He shrugged, prompting you to playfully punch his arm.

“Now you’re forever indebted to me, Y/n. That’s a one of a kind necklace you can’t find anywhere else. Be honored I made it for you,” he declared. You rolled your eyes at his arrogance but still smiled nonetheless.

“Since I gave you this, you can’t ever forget me, okay?” he made you promise.

Your eyes opened, waking you up from your dream. Finding it odd how vivid it was, you frowned and sat up. You wondered if it was a part of your missing memory.

The view outside your window revealed a white wonderland, reminding you that the weather forecast predicted a snowstorm today. You groaned, remembering that today was also the day that you would be alone with Sangyeon. Jacob was on a business trip whereas Changmin and Jaehyun went to their hometowns to visit their parents.

“The snow just has to lock us inside this house today of all days,” you mumbled as you snuggled back into your blanket.

You closed your eyes, wanting to sleep a little more. After half an hour of trying to fall back asleep, you gave up with an exasperated sigh. You changed into a sweatshirt and went downstairs to make yourself some hot chocolate.

To your surprise, Sangyeon was already in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate. You both froze, not knowing how to interact without at least one of the other three guys.

“Here, you can have this one. I’ll make myself another one,” he finally spoke, handing you the cup topped with marshmallows.

You muttered a word of thanks as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink. Looking at the window, you saw that the snow was piling up a lot already. In an attempt to break through the walls Sangyeon had built around you, you mustered up the courage to ask if he wanted to watch a movie together. Taken aback, he nodded before he even fully processed your question.

That’s how the two of you ended up on the coach with a randomly chosen film playing on the TV screen. The movie was better than you thought it’d be. The subtle love line brought a comedic relief in such an action-packed plot. You enjoyed it until the main character ended up with amnesia; it made you uncomfortable as it reminded you of your own accident. Noticing that you weren’t focusing on the movie anymore, Sangyeon paused it and asked if you wanted to stop watching.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, you shook your head. He stared at you for a bit before turning it off. Although you were relieved, you felt bad because he seemed to be enjoying the film.

Trying to make up for it, you offered to make lunch. At his reluctance, you insisted since you both had to eat and delivery would take a long time. He followed you into the kitchen, watching as you surfed the internet for recipes.

You managed to keep the conversation flowing as you cooked. You asked about his job and he asked about your experience as a college student in another country. You were happy that he was finally opening up to you. By the end of the meal, you felt comfortable enough to share a little more about yourself.

“To be honest, I was very hesitant about coming back to Korea. When I left seven years ago, I left behind a lot,” you began.

“Yeah, you left me behind,” Sangyeon wanted to say. Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself.

“I mentioned before that I don’t remember much of my high school years. The only memories I have of back then are whatever my parents told me. Which isn’t much. They were always too busy to know what went on in my life,” you stated.

Trying to piece the information together, he carefully asked what you meant by that.

“I got into a car accident seven years ago,” you sheepishly revealed, making his eyes widen. “Apparently I was in a coma for about a week. When I woke up, I was told that I was suffering from amnesia. I was hospitalized for another few weeks to recover and then sent to California to be with my cousin, Eric. There, I went through physical therapy and attended university. I was hoping to leave behind my trauma in Korea.”

“O-Oh, I didn’t know you went through all that,” he stammered, embarrassed.

“I feel like there’s a part of my life that I’m missing and I hate it,” you confessed. “I get these dreams sometimes and I think it might be my missing memories but I’m not too sure.”

The two of you fell into silence. Sangyeon despised himself for not knowing what happened. He had been too busy pitying himself to stop and think from your perspective. He didn’t deserve to have you remember him. He figured it was best that you forgot him. There was no point in disclosing everything now anyway.

After that day, you thought you had gotten closer to Sangyeon. Contrary to your expectations, however, you grew even more distant. At first, you thought you were overthinking. But as the week went on, it became obvious that he was indeed avoiding you.

Eventually, Jacob confronted him about it. He trapped his best friend and demanded an explanation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sangyeon lied with a straight face. Sighing, Jacob let it go. He knew that he couldn’t force anything out of him.

Despite Sangyeon’s efforts to keep away from you, he still continued to quietly do little things for you. Luckily for him, you didn’t notice. You didn’t think twice about the pot of coffee that was always prepared every morning or your shoes that were neatly put away after you left them scattered at the entrance.

You didn’t know why you felt so disappointed. You didn’t realize that you had grown attached to him as time passed by. Something about him felt familiar and comfortable. Yet, at the same time, he felt like a challenge. He was aloof but occasionally had moments that showed his soft side. He intrigued you.

“Y/n, you can’t keep associating yourself with that boy. Imagine how shocked we were when we heard those rumors about you two dating! You know your father has plans for you and Juyeon,” your mother chided.

“It’s the 21st century! I am not getting into an arranged marriage. Especially not just for the sake of father’s political ambitions,” you yelled.

A slap was delivered to your face. The sound was loud and you felt your cheek throb in pain. Bewildered, you glared at the woman in front of you. Deeming your action as disrespectful, your mother slapped you once again.

“You don’t even deserve to be called a mother,” you spat.

With that, you stormed out of the house. The boy your mother demanded you to stay away from wasn’t even your boyfriend. You had hoped that he would be one day but that hope dissipated when you saw another girl in his arms earlier that day. Tears blinded your vision as you fumbled for your phone. You called Eric, praying that he would pick up despite the time difference. To your relief, he did and his voice caused you to sob.

“Y/n? Y/n, what’s wrong?” Eric asked, concerned.

You barely managed to tell him what was going on in between your cries. He tried to calm you down but it was futile. You weren’t listening. You were too busy running away. Too busy to notice the car that was speeding towards you.

You woke up gasping for air. Your heart was beating fast as you checked your surroundings. Once you realized that you were in your room and not on the streets, you relaxed.

“Was that just a dream? Or a flashback?” you murmured. You brushed it off, blaming your return to Korea for these weird dreams.

Eric was landing in Korea today and you were thrilled. You missed him greatly and couldn’t wait to see him again. You glanced at the clock to check the time. You had to leave soon to greet him at the airport. Quickly getting dressed, you hummed in excitement.

On your way down, you heard the doorbell ring. You cocked your head, wondering if one of the guys had invited a guest. You shouted out that you’d get the door and ran to open it.

“Surprise!” Eric yelled, holding a bouquet of flowers.

It took you a moment to process the scene in front of you. You blinked a few times before you squealed and jumped into his arms. He laughed, dropping the flowers to hold onto you. The noise brought your housemates downstairs with curiosity. You quickly introduced everyone to each other and pulled your cousin inside once they finished exchanging greetings.

“I thought your plane was landing in an hour!” you exclaimed.

“I told you the wrong time so I could come surprise you instead,” he winked.

You didn’t notice Eric staring Sangyeon down but Sangyeon definitely did. He tried to ignore it, assuming that your cousin just wasn’t happy with the fact that you were living with four males.

You spent the rest of the day catching up with Eric and exploring your neighborhood together. You showed him your favorite cafe and feasted on the waffles there. He filled you in on how his parents—your aunt and uncle—were doing. They drilled him to make sure he told you how much they missed you, making you giggle. As proof of his completed mission, he took a selfie with you to send to them.

“I miss them too,” you pouted. “I better video call them soon. It’s hard trying to match the time zone and their work schedule.”

“Or,” he dragged out the word expectantly. “You could just move back to L.A.”

“Eric, you know why I came back. And what it took for me to do so.”

“I know, I know. But I honestly don’t know how I feel about you trying to retrieve your memory. Maybe some things are better left forgotten?”

“For the past seven years, something in the corner of my brain has been irking me. I know I’m forgetting something important. I feel it.”

He sighed and put his hands up as a sign of defeat.

“Just remember that if you don’t find what you’re looking for or if you aren’t happy with what you find, you can always go back to join me in L.A.” he said softly.

It was a hard secret to keep from you for almost a decade. In exchange for calling off your arranged marriage, your parents made him promise to never tell you about what happened the day of the accident. You moving to Los Angeles was the solution your parents came up with to keep you away from that past.

Seeing Sangyeon at your house gave him a bad feeling. He didn’t know what he told you and was scared that it was only a matter of time before your memories returned after seeing him so often.

Before Eric left for Seoul, he pulled Sangyeon aside to give him a warning.

“I don’t know why you’re lingering around my cousin but I know who you are,” Eric glared. “I obviously don’t know the whole story of what happened back when you two were in high school but I don’t quite like you. If you’re simply here for a place to live, keep it that way. Don’t put anything in Y/n’s head. She doesn’t need to remember what you did to her.”

“What I did to her?” Sangyeon repeated, confused. “But I didn’t- wait, are you talking about-”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Eric interrupted. “You led her on and then hugged another girl right in front of her.”

“The girl she saw me with wasn’t my girlfriend. She suddenly came up to me and confessed. That hug was initiated by her and was one sided. I found out about that misunderstanding and was trying to clear it up the day she disappeared.”

“Does it matter anymore after all these years?” Eric sighed. “Listen, you have no idea what Y/n went through back then and what was sacrificed to let her live the way she wanted to.”

“If there’s something you want to tell me, don’t beat around the bush,” Sangyeon frowned. Eric let out an exasperated sigh, conflicted. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to reveal details to him but he felt that it was necessary.

“That day. Y/n’s parents found out about how you two had a thing. There were rumors going around and it reached their ears. I don’t know if Y/n ever told you but they already had a guy in mind for her. Some stupid politics shit. Obviously, she said that was ridiculous but what power does a teenager have over their parents? She was fighting so hard for you but it was all in vain. You broke her heart.”

Sangyeon’s face crumbled at his words. You had never told him about the struggles you had in your home but he should have caught on from the day he first met you.

“That accident took away her memory. For better or for worse. She forgot all about the guy her parents pushed her towards and she forgot about the pain you caused her. And to be quite frank, I want it to stay that way. She came back to Korea to recover her memories but she deserves peace and happiness. She doesn’t need any more dramatic twists in her life. If you still truly care for her, you would agree,” your cousin said before he left.

A figure stood in front of you. You couldn’t see the face but there was a sense of familiarity. It was the same boy from your previous dreams.

“How could you not remember me, Y/n?” he asked.

You wanted to hold his hand and try to recall who he was. You wanted to hug him and tell him that you didn’t intentionally forget him. But your body would not move according to your will.

You awoke to a pounding head and sore throat. Feeling your nose run, you reached out for a tissue. You moaned in pain, realizing you had a bodyache as well. You couldn’t bear to get up and pulled the blanket closer to your body to keep warm. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to fall back asleep.

Downstairs, the guys were eating lunch together. Jaehyun looked at his watch and verbally noted that you still hadn’t woken up.

“Do you think we should wake her up to eat?” Changmin asked, to which Jacob shook his head, saying that they should leave you to rest.

“I wonder if she’s sick? I heard her coughing in the middle of the night when I got up to go to the bathroom,” Jaehyun said.

On the outside, Sangyeon pretended not to care. On the inside, however, he was extremely worried. You always got sick at least twice each winter. After quickly finishing his meal, he grabbed his coat and headed out to the pharmacy. He asked for any and every medicine to help with colds and kept the bag in his pocket when he came back.

He stopped in front of your door with his hand hovering mid-knock. He decided against knocking and left the bag of medicines hanging on your handle.

When evening came around, Jacob went up to your room with a bowl of porridge. Seeing the bag still on the door, he knocked and entered with it.

“So you are sick,” he commented when he saw your disheveled image.

“Jacob, you are an angel,” you gasped at the sight of the food.

“Actually, the medicine isn’t from me. I think that might have been Jaehyun. It was left on your door handle,” he said as he set the tray down on your desk.

You thanked him for the porridge and made a mental note to thank Jaehyun later. Too tired to do anything else, you took the medicine and fell into another deep sleep.

The next day, you felt better enough to get out of bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, you trudged downstairs. You saw Jaehyun in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee and said good morning.

“Oh! I didn’t get the chance to tell you yesterday but thanks for the medicine,” you smiled.

“Huh? What medicine?” he tilted his head in confusion.

“You weren’t the one who left medicine for me outside my door?” you blinked. He shook his head and you assumed that it had been Changmin.

However, when you asked Changmin about it, he was clueless as well. It left you with only one other possibility and your heart skipped a beat at the thought. Wanting to express your gratitude, you went out and bought ingredients to make him some kimbap. You spent the rest of the morning working hard in the kitchen, persevering through multiple mistakes.

You groaned the third time the kimbap popped while you tried to roll it. You considered giving up for a brief moment but shook your head. With a determined sigh, you pulled out another sheet of dried seaweed and began your fourth attempt.

Finally, you managed to decently succeed. You grinned in triumph at your slightly deformed roll. After cleaning up the mess you made, you looked out the window to see Sangyeon reading in the yard with a beanie on and a scarf wrapped around his neck. Hoping to keep him warm, you poured a cup of hot coffee and walked towards him with the food nicely plated.

“Hey Sangyeon,” you said as you held out the plate. “I made you some kimbap for you to munch on as you read.”

“No thanks,” he said coldly. You blinked, not expecting such an answer.

“O-Oh… do you not like kimbap?” you awkwardly laughed. “Here, have some coffee then.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to mind me,” he closed his book and stood up to leave. You frowned at his rudeness, ticked off.

“You could at least take the coffee if you don’t want the food,” you said, making him pause. “Or at the very least politely decline considering the effort I put in.”

“I never asked you to put in any effort towards me.”

You scoffed and put the cup and plate down to fold your arms. His harsh words were so different from his kind actions. It constantly felt like he was trying so hard to push you out and you didn’t understand why.

“Then what’s with the medicine you left for me yesterday?” you confronted him. He froze, not knowing how he got caught. He then noticed that you came outside with no outerwear, making him sigh. Trying to avoid an argument, he silently took his scarf off and put it on you before turning around to leave.

“What the hell, Lee Sangyeon?” you blurted. You placed yourself in front of him to stop him from leaving.

“What is with you? Literally one day you’re taking care of me behind my back and the next you’re avoiding me like the plague. Is this your tsundere concept or what?” you huffed.

You waited for him to say something back but he kept his lips pursed. Exasperated, you ripped the scarf off and stormed back inside.

Sangyeon cursed at himself in his mind. He could’ve handled that a lot better. Sighing, he bent down to pick up the scarf thrown on the ground. At a closer glance, he saw your necklace buried in the fabric. He held it up and stared at the jewelry in his palm. With a conflicted expression, his grip tightened around it, enclosing it in his fist.

You decided that you were over Sangyeon once and for all. You didn’t care how tired he came home looking every night or if was eating properly. You officially gave up on getting closer to him. If he wanted to push you away with his stupid tsundere ways, then that was his problem and not yours.

Grumbling, you climbed into bed to comfort yourself by watching Netflix. You very much rather preferred having your mind occupied with fictional characters than your own issues.

By the time evening rolled around, you grabbed your clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower. Your hands reached up to your neck to take your necklace off but were met with bare skin. Your eyes widened as you looked in the mirror, realizing that the necklace was gone.

You didn’t remember when or where you got it but you always had a feeling that it was important to you. You felt anxious without it.

You rushed to the kitchen to find it. Changmin was staring at you, perplexed, as you crawled across the floor to check every nook and cranny.

“Are you looking for something?” he asked.

“My necklace,” you tensed. “I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it here?”

He shook his head as he apologized, saying he hadn’t. Fretting, you checked the living room hoping it was hidden somewhere on the couch. When it still didn’t turn up, you ran outside to check the yard.

At that moment, Jacob and Sangyeon came down and saw Changmin looking out the window. Curious to see what he was watching, they followed his gaze to see you examining the grass.

“What’s Y/n doing?” Jacob asked.

“I think she lost her necklace,” Changmin answered as he took another bite of his apple. “It must be really important to her. She’s been searching for a while now.”

“I hope she finds it soon. It’s cold out at night,” Jacob said with a concerned look on his face.

Sangyeon stiffened, feeling the necklace in his pocket. He brushed it off, thinking you would give up soon. After pouring himself a cup of tea, he returned to his room. The sky rumbled, warning of incoming rain.

“I’m sure she’ll come back in now,” he mumbled.

Half an hour passed as Sangyeon continued reading his book. It was now pouring outside and the raindrops tapped violently against the windows. He reached out for his tea, only to notice be met with an empty cup. He placed the book down and went to the kitchen for a refill.

He was shocked to see you still in the yard, crouched down with a flashlight. Anger bubbled up inside him and he found himself grabbing an umbrella and joining you outside. Holding your wrist, he lifted you up to face him. The rain ceaselessly attacked the umbrella over your heads and his heart broke at the sight of you. You were drenched and your hair stuck to the sides of your face.

“Let go of me. I need to find something,” you freed yourself from his grasp and went back to shifting through the grass.

“It’s late and it’s raining. You can look for it later,” he said as he pulled you back up.

“No, I have to find it now,” you insisted.

“Y/n, you’re sick!” he exploded. “What’s more important than your health right now?”

“My necklace!” you yelled back. “I can’t remember who gave it to me but I know it was a gift. I can’t lose it. I just know that it’s from someone important. It’s the missing memory I came back to Korea to find!”

His chest clenched as your tears blended in with the rain. He never thought that the necklace would mean so much to you. Hesitantly, he pulled it out from his pocket and handed it to you.

“I’m the one who gave it to you, Y/n,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Seven years ago, I was the one who made this necklace and gave it to you. This isn’t what I meant when I said that you were indebted to me.”

Puzzled, you stared at the chain hanging from your clasp. You were beyond confused. If you had known Sangyeon, why did he never act like it? Then, the pieces started to come together and his behavior started to make sense. Those eyes that seemed to recognize you from day one. The endless supply of the snacks you never expressed your love for in front of the guys. The dreams that you suddenly understood now.

“You knew who I was the entire time… and you didn’t say anything?” your voice cracked. “You knew I was out here looking for the necklace that you had and you still didn’t say anything?”

“I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shoved the umbrella away from you and slowly walked towards the house.

“Now you’re forever indebted to me, Y/n. That’s a one of a kind necklace you can’t find anywhere else. Be honored I made it for you.”

You winced at the sudden flashback.

“Y/n, you can’t keep associating yourself with that boy.”

You shook your head as if the memories would shake out of your mind.

“You don’t even deserve to be called a mother.”

You stumbled, causing you to flinch. Sangyeon ran to hold onto you and caught you just in time before your knees went weak. You felt your lungs tighten as the world spun around you and his voice became muffled. Then, everything went black.

“We gave her a fever reducer so her temperature should be coming down soon,” the doctor said as he looked through your patient chart. “She can be discharged once she wakes up and finishes the IV treatment. As long as she rests well at home, she’ll be okay.”

Sangyeon profusely thanked the doctor before he felt to continue his rounds. Sitting down next to you, he sighed. This wasn’t what he intended at all. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy. Back then and even now, his priority had always been you. Even if it meant giving up his own desires. Even if it meant giving you up.

It was taking longer than expected for you to awaken. Sangyeon began to worry but the nurses assured him that there was no problem. He restlessly paced around your bed, praying that you were okay.

When you finally came to, it took you a moment to register your surroundings. In what felt like a long sleep, all of your lost memories came flooding back. Still overwhelmed by the sudden anamnesis, you grasped for the only thing that brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort—Sangyeon’s hand.

“Don’t leave me,” you croaked.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t let you go again,” he whispered, holding your hand tighter.

[infernwetrust]

Eden’s Prodigal Son Part 4- Know No Better [Andy Dolan x Reader]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You weren’t sure what kept you coming back to Andy Dolan. All you knew was that you kept coming back. And it only got worse before it got better.

Warnings: swearing, little bit o’ violence , drug use, fluff, angst, mentions of pregnancy

WC: 2.0k

A/N: Unlike the previous parts, the next couple of parts for Eden’s Prodigal Son will take place in the present with a few significant flashbacks. Thank you for reading!  -Juno

GIF by kissxmedeadly

It never rained much in Eden. But when it did, it poured. Andy sat on the edge of the bed in his home, suitcases packed for yet another few months in LA. Except this time, he would have nothing to look forward to upon his return. Why? Because you were completely done with Andy Dolan. And he knew that.

His ears were ringing, his heart left his chest and went back and forth between his throat and his stomach. How could he be so fucking stupid? His eyes continuously scanned over the last text message that you sent to him and it burned him every single time. How could he?

I hope you have fun with her.

How could he have fun with her? He didn't want her as much as he wanted you. Anyone with eyes could see how obsessed Andy was with you, but he was so fucking stupid. Fear of commitment maybe? Maybe that's what did it? What was suppose to be just a fling from time to time while he was in LA, turned into something more. Something he didn't want. And now he was stuck. And now he's going through the headlines that exposed him.

"Fuck!" He shouted, abruptly rising to his feet and throwing his phone against the wall with all his force. He watched as it shattered into tiny fragments and he was thankful that he reminded to back his phone up the night before. He needed a new phone anyways. For a few moments he finally felt at peace, not being able to impulse look at things.

"Everything alright, mate?" Ben questioned as he barged into the room upon hearing Andy's scream. He looked back and forth between Andy and his broken phone and he immediately knew.

"I need a few of those." Andy stated simply, referring to the bag of green pills that he had in his hand, specifically for Andy, by his request. Ben knew better to try and argue with him when he was in such a state. He obliged, opening the bag and pouring 2 onto Andy's hand. He'd never leave him with the whole bag. And like usual, this was how Andy coped. "Are we leaving now?"

"Yeah.. yeah."

*** "Are you sure you don't want to see-," Hedwig began, but you quickly gave her your answer. No. You did not want to see Andy Dolan one last time despite the intense history. You never thought that you could be this broken, but here you were. You clung to his hoodie that he had left at your place, like your life depended on it. Tears fell heavily from your eyes as you laid your head in Hedwig's lap, the two of you on the couch.

"You told me you fucking loved me!" You screamed at Andy, your fists pounding into his chest, tears steaming down your face, ruining your makeup.

"I do fucking love you, Y/N!" He grabbed your wrists in an attempt to slow you down, but you weren't having it. You managed to snatch one of your wrists from his relatively strong grip, returning a swift and sharp smack to his face.

"Love me enough to get someone else pregnant?!"

"I think I'm going to be sick." Your legs couldn't carry you to your bathroom fast enough. There were too many memories of him, everywhere. You kicked him out of your home so fast that night, he didn't have time to grab anything. You turned your sink, splashing your face with the cooling water. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"It was a fucking mistake!" That's all he could say. Because it was. One drunk and sloppy hookup turned into an unexpected pregnancy for both Andy and his party.

"A fucking huge mistake, Andy Dolan! You have a fucking one year old and we've been together for 6 months and I find out through a news article. For fuck sakes Andy, you didn't think this one out did you?"

"I was going to tell you.." He mumbled, knowing how bad he fucked up.

"Fucking tell me?! It's been a year, Andy!" You shoved him back, watching him stumble to stay on his feet. "I gave you everything."

The tears fell faster than you could catch them and decided that trying to wash them away was a waste of your time.

I hope you have fun with her.

The last text message that you sent to Andy a week ago. He texted you several times after that, almost every day for the next week until you had to put him on do not disturb. That's the thing about Andy. And the thing about you too. He was never able to leave you alone and you the same.

Y/N please talk to me. I miss you. I love you... please. It was a mistake. I fucked up. I know. I should of told you, but I was scared. I'm not even ready to be a fucking father. This was before we even got together and I know a lot of things were said and were done, but we're all human, yeah? Please just talk to me, Y/N. I don't want lose you over this. I know it's a pretty big deal, but I'm not hiding anything else. I promise. I'm sorry...

He tried to call you a few times as well, but God knows why he would try to do that. Eventually he just started calling to hear your voicemail, anything, that could keep him closer to you. You caught yourself going through your camera roll one too many times, reliving all the memories.

You should of known. Andy was way too popular, way too good-looking to just settle down. You should of known. Right? Maybe you should of just stayed friends, but like a fool you fell for it. And fell for it. And fell for it. And now it's killing you.

"Y/N..." Hedwig's soft voice spoke from behind the door as you walked out of your bathroom, a sobbing mess. "Can I come in?" God bless her, huh? What would you do without your dear Hedwig? She was always in the middle of you and Andy. She was there for every small moment, every big moment, every argument. She was your rock and you were hers. You opened the door for her, still not able to control all of your sobbing.

In the distance you could hear small chatter. You forgot that tonight you had invited every one over for yet another small get together. But, you didn't know that you would be like this when the time came.

"C' mere." She spoke, engulfing you into her arms, letting you cry it out.

"I love him." You sobbed. "So fucking much."

"I know." Hedwig held you tighter. "He'll regret it. Andy. He's... fuck.." She knew what she wanted to say and although it was true, she could never bad mouth another friend. Burying your face in the crook of her neck, you screamed, letting some amount of stress leave your body for the night.

"I'm so-,"

"No. You're not. You're in love. It's okay to be in love. This is your first heart break. And it won't be your last, especially dealing with Andy Dolan, but the two of you just need some serious time apart." Hedwig cupped both sides of your face in her hand, making you look at her. She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into a hug. "He'll realize how much of a gem he let slip through his fingers. But you have us. And I know we're no Andy, but we love you just as much."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

*** "Jesus Christ, mate." Ben growled, aggravated with Andy's intoxication as they traveled through airport security. "The no-fly list suits you well right about now, doesn't it?"

"Fuck off, yeah?" Andy chuckled, running his hands through his hair as he clumsily put his things in a bin to go through the scanner, nearly knocking the stack next to him over. Ben sighed, furrowing his eyebrows and he got his things together as well. This was the first time airport security scanned two people in the body scanner at once, Ben having to physically hold Andy in the position they requested. Embarrassed, they couldn't leave the area fast enough to start walking towards their gate.

"You fucking listen to me. And you listen to me good, aye." Ben spoke, abruptly dragging Andy into a nearby family bathroom, locking the door behind him. He slammed Andy up against the bathroom wall, spraying the water bottle he was carrying in his hand all over his face. "Wake the fuck up, okay?" He slapped him around a few times, Andy not sober enough to even attempt to fight back. And even if he wanted to, he deserved this. "Wake the fuck up, Andy Dolan." Andy choked slightly on the water that managed to get into his mouth, spitting it back up and coughing.

"Fu-,"

"Fuck off. I know, hm?" Ben opened another water bottle, spraying it on him as well. "You want to know the one thing you're good at? Driving people the fuck away.." Ben held Andy by his now soaking shirt, glaring into his eyes that screamed nothing but pain, regret, anger, and sadness. "Everything you have now, Dolan. I HELPED YOU GET. It's not just about you okay, dick head? As your agent this is MY life too and you are on track to fucking ruin it."

Andy was silent and in a daze. The bathroom was spinning and he swore he was looking at Ben 4 times, but all the words were registering. Ben was right for the most part. Andy was good at driving people away. People that weren't you, but now look, it is you. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes and he could feel his throat swell with sorrow.

"Your public image matters. Remember that. And for fuck sakes, mate. You don't fucking need her." Ben continued. "You're a fucking superstar. You can have any one you want. Mad at you because you got some irrelevant broad pregnant and the two of you weren't even together?"

"Stop.." Andy growled.

"No. I'm not going to fucking stop. She's done nothing, but distract you. That's all she has ever always done. I'm sure she's had her fair share while you were away. Did you ever think about that? She just got lucky to not get knocked up by the next bloke, huh? People make mistakes. You need to get over it. And she needs to get over it. You have a fucking full career ahead of you."

He let Andy go, rummaging through his bag for a new shirt for him to match the current style of his outfit. When he got re-dressed, his administered eye drops for the now teary-eyed man whose eyes were covered in red streaks. When the opportunity presented itself, they finally made their way to their gate, no conversation between the two of them until they would land in LA.

*** "We should get married y'know." You suggested to Andy, snatching his attention away from the joint that he was rolling.

"I'm sorry.." He chuckled. "But what? We should what? Y/N we're 16."

"Hear me out first, silly." You giggled at your idea.

"Okay, crazy. I'm listening."

"We only get married if we can't find the one. Someone has to be responsible for me when I die. And and. There are some pretty good benefits to being married." Andy glanced back and forth between you and his joint before he busted out laughing. "You're laughing, but it's such a good idea!"

"You really are crazy, you know that?"  He handed you the joint and the lighter, always letting you have the first pull now that the two of you started smoking together. "But of course, Y/N. As long as we don't find the one. I will marry you so that someone will be responsible for us when we die. And for the benefits."

"I knew you'd understand."

But you are the one.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @9layerdevilfoodcake @ferndolan @dorklydefined @littledemondani @king-with-no-crovvn @chicaluna2410 @waitinvain

[kickingitwithkirk]

I’m Not Clean

Paring: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1948

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, verbal fighting, cursing, cheating, oral sex, p/v sex

A/N: for @jawritter​​​​ #jensmakemecrychallange

A/N II: Set between mid season six-starts after Death puts Sam’s soul back-ending before the last Trial in season eight. Told from Sam’s POV alternating between present and past memories/ events. Some altering of events to fit story line. Prompt in Bold.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~ 

I chant this mantra over and over to myself. 

I was drunk before leaving, roaring out of the garage in Baby, leaving the stench of burning rubber and exhaust in my wake.

We’ve had some hell raising fights over the years. This one tonight the vilest we have ever had, saying the most unforgiving things to each other because you broke our agreement.

What we said...our knowledge of each other’s weakest points to abuse, verbally cutting into each other in the deepest manner, inflicting as much carnage as possible. 

The only other person in the universe who knows how to hit me that hard is my brother. Man, how we’ve done that dance too, over and over yet somehow always finding our way back to each other.

My brother tried to intervene, to stop us from saying the things we can never take back or forgive. It felt as if he was taking your side, I went after him as well. 

I feel the need to punish myself for all the pain I have caused. I am always creating pain, torching those I love. 

I found her at the dive bar, a few days out from her heat.

She is my punishment.

We go to a nearby dump. I close the door and she's already on her knees, my jeans zippers down, pulling me out and starts licking up the underside of my cock, making gagging noises trying to deepthroat me. My head thunks against the door and all I can think is that she’s not you.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I remember like it was yesterday. We ended up at Bobby’s after cleaning out a vamp nest two states over. 

Grabbing our duffels we didn’t rock, paper, scissors over who got the spare bed, my brother just face plants on the couch, unconscious before I’m even at the foot of the staircase.

I wearily make my way upstairs not bothering to shower in spite of how bad I smell, too exhausted to care. I toed off my boots and socks, throwing my blood encrusted shirt and jeans in the corner, collapsing face down on the bed, landing on top of something under the covers.

Why am I staring at the ceiling?

My brother barrel's in, woken by the sound of my body hitting the floor, stopping in the doorway with his gun drawn looking for what attacked me...this confused look crossed his face as the scent of fear flooded the room.

I sit up gazing over the bed as you huddle in the corner looking scared to death. My brother puts his gun back in his waistband, hands up with his on display to show he’s no threat. 

I slowly got to my feet and came around the bed towards you. You shrink even further in the corner, pulling into yourself as tight as you can, hiding behind your arms and drawn up knees.

I stop and sit down trying to not appear threatening and speak softly to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, we’re friends of Bobby’s. He didn’t tell us you were here. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You're so still, all I can see is your beautiful eyes moving between us, the only movement you are able to do. 

My brother gives a small smile before going back downstairs to the couch, giving you space to calm down. I stay on the floor, my back propped against the bed talking. 

It’s a one sided conversation but that’s ok. 

Bobby’s back just after daybreak found us still in the same positions on the floor asleep. 

“Balls!” 

You spring from the corner and bury yourself in his arms. Seeing that Bobby has you I grab my stuff and head for a shower. My brothers just came out from taking his. I strip and climb in turning on the water. 

Fucker used all the hot water.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I don’t want to be touching her now, or her touching me, my self loathing rising like the bile in my throat but my body has a mind of its own tonight as my brain turns off given into my Alpha.

I grab her hair, yanking her off my dick with an audible pop, saliva and precome running down her chin, adding another stain to the discolored rug. I pull her up, tossing her onto the bed before dragging her back to the edge, the barely there skirt rides up out of the way as I lave my tongue up her uncovered thighs, swirling it through her dripping folds. Roughly inserting several fingers into her tight cunt I start sucking on her clit as she grabs my hair soaking my face with her slick as she cums.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

The smell of coffee calls to my still fuzzy brain as I staggered downstairs to the kitchen. My brother and Bobby are at the table talking. As I pour a cup you walk in from the porch. 

I turn towards you, finally able to scent you without the terror that clouded the room last night. 

Are you a classic beauty? No, but you beguile me. 

I’m enamored with your beautiful eyes, recalling the way they never left mine last night. You’re taller than I expected, curvaceous, not delicate like others I have been with.

As you hold my gaze I remember the verbal platitudes, reading the drivel, even watched some of the bathetic romance movies but they could never fully articulate this feeling. It de-queues through me, permeates my soul.

My brother relentlessly teases that I am having a chick-flick moment.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

She wobbly moves onto her hands and knees, I climb on the bed behind her and ram my engorged cock into her sodden cunt as far as she can take me mindlessly pounding. I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing enough to stop the incoherent noises escaping from her mouth that grate against me. 

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

We ended up staying at Bobby’s for a couple of weeks, it was quiet and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave you.

Bobby explained to us how you ended up here over a bottle of whiskey late one night.

Jo found you bruised and bleeding, huddled in the door jam out back of Harvelle's Roadhouse. You had been injured by your pack for defying them. Ellen of course took you in. 

The pack came looking for you, trailing your scent to the bar. Ellen’s shotgun and don’t fuck with me attitude convinced them you had left but she knew it wasn’t safe for you to stay, your pack would be watching. 

Smuggling you out of the bar proved harder than anyone thought. There were multiple hand offs among hunters traveling along the way, finally delivering you to Bobby Singer's home days later.

For the first time in your life, you were safe.

We took our time getting to know each other, I had to work harder than I ever have with anyone before to gain your trust.

After my brother and I caught a case, I would call you every day and matter the time, you answered. We would talk for hours, share what we had been doing that day, finding our mutual interests in a variety of subjects coming to light. 

My brother would yell for me to get off the damn phone, I was keeping him awake, even though I’m sitting outside the motel room.

Then things got out of control.

Castiel broke the wall and died. Leviathans were anyone and everywhere, finally imitating us.

We became America’s Most Wanted. Bobby sent us to a man named Frank who owned him a big favor and made us disappear. 

We found Bobby’s burned down house and almost got killed ourselves.

Then Bobby showed up at the hospital to break us out, informing me you were safe, hidden at a long forgotten hunters cabin.

We managed to stay in contact, I needed that, to know you were staying safe before being able to sleep at night.

The first fight happened in the hospital, blaming us for losing Bobby. 

Then Dick and Purgatory.

And a lost year.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I pulled out of her relieved my knot had finally deflated enough to release me. Collapsing onto my back I fling my arm over my eyes disgusted with myself as she’s curling into my side literally purring.

I’ve repeatedly used her...in this bed of sin I created...I’ve lost control...not the first time.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

It’s never quiet for long in our lives. Castiel mysteriously returns and Kevin Tran sort of deciphers the demon tablet, how through three trials we can close the Gates of Hell and seal away so much evil if we survive the First Trial- kill a Hell hound. 

While on another case we met our grandfather Henry Winchester of The Men of Letters and inherit the key to the Bunker. We have a home of sorts and I finally have a safe place for you, for us to be together. A few months after moving in, before the Second Trial-rescuing a innocent from Hell, and your heat, I made a decision that saddened both of us but with our lives was necessary and allowed me finally to make you mine forever.

Right before finding out about the Third Trial I found the test hidden in a drawer and my diminishing mind bounces between being petrified and elated. I sat there downing a bottle of whiskey from my brother's copious stash waiting for your return and upon seeing you all the alcohol in my degenerating body gave me permission to release my pent up fury and paranoia, ending in that cheap room with her.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I made my way back to the Bunker to find my brother sitting in the War Room waiting on me. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of her all over me but said nothing as I handed over the car keys pocketing them. His eyes shifted to a chair and I apprehensively sat down awaiting the bombardment he would unleash. He remains quiet as he turns the open laptop towards me. I blink a few times to focus on the screen, reading the online article from a national news agency about the contraceptive failure. I’m in disbelief when he slides your phone in front of me and plays the voicemail from your doctor.

I get up swaying from a nonexistent breeze slowly walking the halls till I’m standing outside our bedroom door. I can scent your sadness from outside the closed door causing me to freeze holding the knob, unable to summon up the courage to turn it when it disappears from my hand finding you instead. You move allowing me to enter, shutting the door as I sit on the edge of the bed before crossing over, moving to stand directly in front of me. I don’t know how you can do that with the smell of every wrong I’ve done clinging to my skin polluting us. 

I feel your hands cradling my face softly telling me Grown men don't cry as your fingers track the tears coursing uninhibitedly down my cheeks.

I completely collapse wrapping my arms around your waist resting my forehead against the special place where our pup is, undeserving of your love that’s purifying me in ways the trials never will.

tagging: SPN @donnaintx​​​​

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​​​​

[fbfh]

domestic cozy moments with leo - an anthology

i should really be asleep

aged up to 18+ obvs,,,, rlly wishing this was real rn lmao,,, also it’s fluff if u couldn’t tell 

1600 words

You set down your last box, hearing a thump in the next room as he sets his. You will your legs to carry you into the next room where he’s waiting, standing, looking at you. The glaring over head light still somehow makes him look good, and you can tell, by this point, that he’s thinking something similar about you. He pulls you closer with one strong comforting gesture, and you both flop unceremoniously down onto the bare mattress on the floor. You tuck the crook of your elbow over your face to block out the harsh light, and gently rub your face into the material of his shirt; a dark flannel over a deep red hoodie, some quote splashed across the chest. The arm wrapped around you bent, his hand brushing the hair at the top of your forehead. 

“We did it,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you replied, “now we just gotta unpack everything.”

“And organize.”

“And decorate,” you add. There’s a beat of silence.

“God, this is gonna be a nightmare, isn’t it…” he laughs, head resting on top of yours. A slow, tired chuckle rocks your body. 

“Yeah, probably…”

You’ve both been up since about 4am, and have only just finished moving into your apartment. It’s around one or two in the morning. You’re beyond exhausted, the thrill of the move and shitty, delerious humor keeping you running for the last few hours. 

“Y’know what,” he moves, kicking off his shoes, “I say we just crash for the night. Deal with the rest of it in the morning.” He’s already mumbling, his voice groggy - groggier than before - and you can tell he’s losing orbit. Against your wishes, you make yourself sit up. You kneel over to a box a few feet away, and rip the tape off. You pull out a duvet, and shuffle back over to him. 

“Yeah,” you say, already slipping out of your sneakers and throwing some of the blanket over him, “sounds good.” You curl back into him, into a slightly more comfortable position, and start to settle down. 

“Shit,” he hisses, “the light.” You realize the light’s still on and groan.

“Oh god… we’re really that dumb,” you can feel the sleep deprived laughter taking over.

“Wait, wait,” he giggles, the infectious laugh spreading. He leans over, fumbling for the mop next to the broom and vacuum, and holds the flat head, the pole in between his fingers. You feel him shift, and pry your eyes open. He’s almost got it. You make some encouraging ‘oh, ooooh!’s as he lines up the loop at the top with the light switch on the wall and darkness engulfs you. He lays back down in a heap, setting the mop on the floor next to him. 

“Nice!” you press a kiss below his ear, the closest place you could reach, and he mutters sleepily, “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be signing autographs in half an hour,” laughter seeping into his words like a teabag in hot water as he pulls his hood up. Your limbs are already tingly with sleep. He mutters something you can’t make out, and you’re pretty sure you tried to ask what, but you don’t remember anything after that. You don’t know who fell asleep first, but you both slept really well that night. 

~

Your piping was migraine worthy. 

That’s what Leo had said after about a minute under your bathroom sink. 

You had noticed the water pressure in the sink got really weak after a day or two. Your apartment was pretty old, so it wasn’t surprising. 

“Should we call the superintendent?” you asked through a mouth of ramen. A smile hit his eyes, and you finished the thought he hadn’t said.

“To let him know,” you shoved his chest playfully, “I know you can fix it, that wasn’t a question.” It backed off, and instead he said, “You can try, but I’m pretty sure he’s one of those three-to-five-business-days types.” 

“Well, at least he’ll know what’s going on.” He still had that look. “I’ll tell him not to call a plumber. My boyfriend’s an engineer and can more than handle it.” He seemed satisfied, and grabbed his tools. 

“I’m just saying, I think I know a thing or two about this stuff…” You pulled the still ringing phone from your face. “Duh, you’re the-” the phone stopped ringing. Voicemail. You rolled your eyes as the beep sounded, and left a brief message explaining who you were and the situation. After you finished talking, you hung up. 

“God, I hate talking on the phone,” you mutter. You turn the corner to the bathroom doorway. 

“How’s it looking?” you lean on the door frame, and suppress a chuckle at the sight of your boyfriend laying on a skateboard under the bathroom sink. 

“This makes… no sense…” he muttered. “I mean, who- why would you put a dual check there?” You smiled, loving when he talked about his hyperfixations, even if it barely made sense to you. You decided to check back in a bit, and went to transfer some laundry. 

It had been a while. You had checked on Leo two or three times, and he was still doing something under there. He had come out once or twice to get some parts or piping from his supplies, then went straight back to work. If only you had a dollar for every time you heard him sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to do this…” It’s been two hours and he needs a break. 

You walk back into the bathroom, step over him, and sit down, your hips right on top of his.

He stops.

He pushes you both out from under the sink, skateboard rolling slowly, his eyes locked with yours.

“Hello,”

“Hi,”

~

You just wanted to take out the trash, that was all. But when you entered the back alley and saw a little kitty cat looking so scared by the dumpster, you couldn’t stop your instincts. You set the trash down slowly, scooped up the cat, and marched back inside. You set her - or him? You weren’t sure yet. You set them in the bathroom, made a little nest of towels close to the radiator, and left, closing the door behind you. You came back in with a small storage bin with cat litter - which Leo luckily had on hand for absorbing oil spills in his garage - paper bowls with some tuna and water, and a small ball of yarn from a long since abandoned craft project. The kitty ate all the tuna in record time, and looked at you, asking for more. 

“Wait for that to digest, then you can have seconds.” you said, softly. You gave them a little head pat, and they skittered away, unused to affection. It made your heart a little sad. But it’s okay, you reminded yourself, kitty’s gonna get lots of love from now on. You adjust your seat on the edge of the tub, trying to stop your butt from going numb. You pick the cat up to put them in their makeshift bed, and check under their tummy. Yup, girl kitty. She lets out a high pitched meow, and you can tell she’s still pretty young. You pet her back, and she arches up, her tail curling. She moves away from your hand, still not used to it yet, but a loud purr resonates through her chest and off the walls. You hold back a delighted squeal as she curls up into a ball. Oh jeez, do you have any blankets? You could cover her with a towel, but do you have anything softer? You leave to check, closing the door securely behind you. You dig through the linen closet for a few minutes before you hear the door open and close. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Leo quipped, putting his jacket on the coat rack. You picked up a small fleece decorative blanket you had no use for until now. 

“Hey,” he turned the corner, and placed his hand on your face, and your free hand rested on his. He pressed a warm kiss to your lips, and pulled away even though he didn’t want to. “Hey, Sparky,” you replied, a smile only he could give you blooming on your face. 

He started to tell you you two could catch up in a minute, he just has to wash the stubborn leftover machine oil off his hands, but you stopped him before he could.

“I have a surprise.” You said.

“Okay,” he replied, smiling, “what is it?”

You bit your lip, and quickly pulled him into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind you. 

“Woah, babe,” he smirked, “if you wanted-” his voice cut off when he saw you kneeling next to a small kitty. 

“Her name is garbage, cause that’s where I found her!” you giggled, quoting the episode of The Office you two had watched just last night. 

“Aww,” he cooed, and began to wash his hands hastily so he could pet her, “she’s adorable!” his voice was soft, and higher than normal, and it was the cutest thing you’d ever heard. He dried off his hands, and bent down to give her a cuddle. You stayed like that for a while, watching her play with string and baby talking her. 

“By the way, Estrella,” he said, breaking his baby voice to look up at you, “we’re not actually naming her garbage, right?”

“No!” you laughed, “She’s too cute, that’d be mean…” 

He giggled at your face, and you two batted names back and forth for a while, trying to find the right one, and eventually settling on Jackhammer, maybe Jack for short.  “She’s definitely as loud as one,” Leo mused when he’d first heard her purr.

She purred a lot more after that.

[maybankiara]

THESE WICKED GAMES WE PLAY

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Implied Fem!Reader

summary: Barry decides he needs to get money back from Rafe, one way or another. When you become a part of the bargain, Rafe decides that’s enough.

w/c: 3.2k

t/w: kidnapping, canon-typical violence, toxic relationship

a/n: this is basically something straight out of an action movie (...or obx). not proofread so will probably contain typos, but i’ll get around to doing that. it’s midnight. sorry about the formatting, i did this on my phone.

masterlist | tag list

written for @whormotional

Your boyfriend deals coke, alright. It's something that passes by unacknowledged for the sake of whatever relationship you're trying to keep in place, with your college and his college and whatnot.

When it comes to dating Rafe Cameron, "easy" is the last word you'd use to describe it.

(You often wonder - why stay? What is it that's keeping you around? Then you see him lying in bed next to you, eyes closed and messy hair covering them, and you see the boy you fell in love with. You hope he's still somewhere in there, waiting his turn on the surface.)

(It's hope.)

That exact hope is what you're clinging to as you walk through the cut, looking for your boyfriend. It's summer and the North Carolina heat is dry, palpable, as your shoes are already warm against the pavement.

A kook is not welcome to the Cut.

You keep one of your hands in your pocket, the other one to your ear, dial tone turning to voicemail for what feels like the hundredth time.

'Fuck.'

Another five minute break. You slip your phone back into your pocket, turning on some music to tune out the voices of people around you. They all seem to be taunting you, even if you don't stick out like a sore thumb without your fancy car - even if you know nobody is taking notice of you.

Rafe doesn't do this often. If he plans to go MIA for the day, he'll shoot you a text in the morning and let you know. He'll call you in the middle of the day to see if you're doing okay.

He'll care.

Well, not today.

It's nearly eight in the evening and you haven't heard from him since late last night. As far as you know, neither have Topper nor Kelce. The Camerons don't know shit about Rafe anyway, so that's a dead end in the start.

It doesn't warrant you searching for him through the middle of fucking nowhere. The centre of the Cut, the part of it that's looking semi-decent, is long behind you. Your feet are uncomfortable on a gravel road, grass too dry to grow anywhere

The next few moments happen in slow motion and fast forward at once. You feel a hand on your bicep, and you see that you're standing genuinely in the middle of nowhere, and the air feels cold in your throat. The song in your ears has ended and all you hear is the hum that's an aftermath of loud music, and someone's footsteps on the gravel.

The hand gripping you spins you in place, and you feel warm metal against your back.

You don't fight back. You freeze.

The person in front of you is your height, and he's got a bandanna covering the lower half of his face. You see that his hair is black and tied up in a ponytail, and you look into his eyes, but all you remember about them is how fearful they make you feel.

Another metal is pressed against you, this time cold, and on the bare flesh of your neck.

'Get in the van.'

A door slides open and you're dragged into the van, frozen still. The man jumps in behind you and someone holds your hands behind your back. The engine hums and the door slides shut, and the moment the metal blocks daylight, your brain catches up.

'LET ME OUT! YOU FUCKIN' PSYCHOS! WHAT THE FUCK!'

You scream your lungs out and push forward, rashly enough that the person holding you back doesn't have time to harden their grip, and you slip free. In front of you is the man with the bandanna, and all you see is your right hand pushing into his chest as your left reaches for the door. He falls -- you open the door -- the van swerves, and you fall back into the arms of the person holding you earlier.

'LET ME GO!' you scream again, reaching forward like a tied bull, but the grip is tight this time around.

'Shut the fuck up, bitch,' says the one with the bandanna, rising from the floor.

The road is bumpy and you keep fighting to maintain your balance. He wipes the corner of his mouth where a trickle of blood dripped from, and you wonder for a moment if you hit his face, or he got it in the fall.

'Let. Me. Go.'

'Aren't you going to bargain, you fuckin' kook bitch?' The bandanna is off, you notice only now, and you have a vague feeling as if you've seen his face before; your body goes stiff. 'Yeah, I know who you are. Country Club's pussy.'

Your brain works as if on speed -- Country Club. Rafe. You've heard only one person call him that.

The lump in your throat is heavy to swallow, but you do it anyway, straightening your back as much as the van in motion allows you.

The urge to spit in his face is almost too much to take.

'Rafe will kill you, Barry.'

The grin with the golden teeth he flashes you makes your stomach churn. Chills run down your spine, but you keep your teeth clenched, and eyes full of spite.

All it does is make him laugh. 'He doesn't have it in him.'

There's something cold on your throat; cold and sharp. Barry slides the blade across, pressing just tight enough to make you feel the hints of pain, but not enough to hurt you.

You keep your chin high, even if the tremble has already betrayed you.

'Your boyfriend owes me money,' he says. His accent is dirty--pogue--and sleazy in a way that makes you want to throw up. 'A lot of it.'

'You know he's going to pay you back. He always pays you back.'

The pressure on your throat increases in a moment. Your whole body clenches and you bite down on the inside of your lip, feeling the blade cut into the skin.

'Oh, he gon' pay back, alright. Where is he?'

You stare at him for a moment, waging your options. 'I don't know. I haven't heard from him the whole day.'

Barry's eyes squint as he leans into your face, close enough for you to smell tobbaco and weed coming out of his mouth. The pressure on your neck dissipates, enough to let you breathe.

'Fucker better not be dead in a ditch.'

'He'll pay you back,' you promise.

He glances you up and down, and you feel as if someone is throwing filth all over you. He licks his lips as they stretch into a grin, and he nods to himself. 'Yeah. One way or another.'

If there is a God, you pray to him.

--

Rafe is losing his mind. He knows he's fucked up.

There was a call-in last night, a delivery to some of his college friends on the mainland. They were throwing a massive house party, and a lot of people needed a supplier, and it was easy to just call him.

He caught the last ferry over, drove three hours, all without telling you because he knew you'd worry -- and there should've been no reason for you to worry.

He wasn't going to stay, or drink, or do coke.

But he did. He did all three of the things he told himself he wouldn't.

By the time he woke up, it was nearly three in the afternoon, his phone had been smashed the night before, and there was no way to get a hold of you. He sat into his car and shot straight for Kildare, looking for you at home and every place he could find, until it was Topper who told him you'd went looking for him.

In the Cut.

A certain kind of darkness he'd never felt before washed over him. You weren't answering your phone when Topper called, and it didn't take long for Rafe to get back into his car and ignore all the speed limits on his way to the cut. He didn't care about being seen -- all he wanted was to be wrong. To roll up into Barry's backyard and for Barry to have no idea where you could be.

That's what he wanted. And when he got there, and no one was there, he waited. He'd wait until fucking Barry came back and he can make sure he didn't do anything with you.

Rafe fucked up, but he knew that if Barry had done anything to you, he'll fuck up to the point of bloody hands and time behind bars.

And he wouldn't hesitate.

So when Barry doesn't answer his phone and Rafe sees his van roll up, but it's someone else in the driver's seat, and the van is rocking unnaturally, the darkness falls over his eyes again.

He doesn't see red. He doesn't see black.

He sees Barry's face when he walks out of the van with you behind him, a drip of dark red on your neck, and he lunges.

--

You don't comprehend Rafe until he's at Barry's throat. It's a flash of blonde and a polo shirt and mutli-coloured shorts, and then Barry's down and you recognize the grunts and the hair and the clothes, and then you're screaming his name.

Someone comes behind you and places a hand over your mouth, grabbing your tied hands with another. Someone else jumps out of the van and onto Rafe, knocking him into the floor.

Your screams are muffled, but you bite the hand on your mouth and they're loud again, until you're hit in the face. The pain is numbing -- dull and painful sound of flesh against flesh echoing in your skull. You've got a hand covering your screams again, and you stumble backwards.

Next to you, on the ground, Rafe is pushing himself up with a streak of red coming out of the left side of his hair. He looks at you and you see the rage and the fear all in one -- "Y/N.'

You try to say something, but it hurts when you move your mouth, so all that comes out is a whimper.

He reaches for you but a guy smacks him on the side of his face. Rafe stumbles towards you, hands outstretched, but the loss of balance is enough for the guy to pin him against the wall, gun to his temple.

You scream.

The guy hits you again, and you smell copper.

Barry gets himself off the ground and presses the heel of his palm to his temple, and a mixture of blood and dirt remains on it. He spits blood and wipes his mouth, wiping the rest of his face with the bandanna. His left eye is swollen and there are a few cuts from Rafe's rings scattered here and there, bruises already starting to form.

You glance at Rafe, and you see him struggling to get to you. Even with a gun to his head -- he doesn't stop trying.

Another whimper leaves your mouth and the guy holding you pulls your head back, to the point where it's painful, and Rafe screams 'HEY! LET GO OF HER YOU FUCKIN'---'

Barry slaps him across the face. You hear skin snap and Rafe grunts in pain.

'Shut your damn mouth, Country Club.' He comes closer and takes over the gun, letting the other guy hold Rafe in place. 'Your girl over there seems to be ready for some f--'

'I've got your money.'

'Now we're talkin'.'

A satisfied grin stretches across Barry's features, whereas Rafe's neck tenses, veins looking as if they're about to burst. He glances at you for a second, as if he's trying to tell you something, but you don't get it -- you're barely standing on your feet.

The gun travels from Rafe's forehead to underneath his chin, pushing his head backwards.

No. You surge forward, the moment's weakness allowing to to take two steps closer until Barry waves his free hand and there's something cold and circular pressed into the back of your head, and you whimper again.

Rafe twitches, but is pushed back.

'Nu-uh, that ain't how we doin' this. Gimme money, and y'all loverbirds walk outta here alive.'

The threat makes your bones shudder; 'Please.'

You don't know if you're begging Rafe or Barry or God, but one of them has got to answer.

Rafe catches your eye and nods at you, tears streaming down his face. He's no less afraid than you are -- somehow, that hurts even more. 'I won't let anything happen to you.'

'Yadda, yadda, yadda. Pay up, Country Club.'

'It's in the glove compartment,' Rafe says.

'Everything?'

'Half.' Rafe tenses again, and you see a flash of bravery across his features. 'I'll give you the rest when you let her go.'

Your boyfriend laughs, a maniacal laugh you've never heard before -- desperate and high-pitched; the laughter of someone who laughs in the face of danger.

The gun on your head moves from back to the side; you can almost hear it sliding.

It's even colder on the bare skin of your temple.

'If you hurt her, you'll never get the other half of the money,' says Rafe, poison dripping from his voice.

Barry contemplates this for a second. 'You're not the one in position of demands.'

'I swear.'

For a moment, Barry's moment tenses on the trigger finger, safety off. Your chest tightens and you're convinced he's going to shoot, and you can't even move -- but he doesn't.

The breath that passes your lips is shaky.

'I know where y'all live,' concludes Barry. 'You either gimme the money now, or I come take it.' He glances at you, checking you up and down, and Rafe squirms in the guy's arms at the sight, a hand covering whatever he's saying. 'I won't let her off easy come next time.'

You watch as the guy lets go of Rafe, now only Barry's gun pressed to his chin keeping him in place. He walks over to the truck, opens the passenger door and the glove compartment, and takes out a wad of cash.

Some part of your heart sinks, and seeing the way Rafe is looking at you, he knows it, too.

The cash is placed on Barry's empty hand. 'Damn, kid. Y'all delievered.'

'Let her go.'

'You're not in the position to make demands.'

'You promised---'

'And I shit on my promises, wipe my ass with 'em, make sure it's sparkly clean,' snaps Barry. The gun is cocked, a crook in Barry's elbow as he's inches of Barry's face. 'You better give me the other half or it ain't gon' be promises I wipe my ass with.'

Rafe gives in. He tells them about the secret compartment he had installed in the back of the truck, the one not even you knew about. There's a wad of cash in there equal in size to the one Barry gave to someone for counting. You're shaking, trembling, feeling your knees are about to give in; all you can feel is that, and the gun pressed to the side of your head.

It ends up being almost a third more than Rafe owed him, but Barry takes it all anyway.

They let you go first. You've still got a gun to your head as you roll down the passenger window and get into the truck. Barry promises Rafe to blow your brains out in case of any funny business, and leads Rafe to the driver's side.

He places a hand over yours, but you pull it back.

You see his heart shatter.

When the guns are away, Rafe drives the two of you out of the Cut, just driving around the island. You don't want to go home -- he doesn't want to go home. For a while, you don't talk, save for the one time he asks you if you're okay. You shake your head and he says he's sorry, but sorry won't change anything.

Sorry won't take away the feeling of a knife to your throat, or a hand hitting your cheek, or the gun ready to bang.

He pulls up at a gas station, refills the thank, goes into the store. He comes out with a bag full of snacks and two bottles of water, looking as if nothing happened.

'How can you be so calm?'

Rafe starts the car and comes onto the road, taking a long time to answer. 'Because you're okay.'

You feel like you've been slapped in the face. 'Is this a normal thing for you? Being beaten to a pulp, a gun to your head?'

'No,' he says. While you can tell it's the truth, it still doesn't make it okay, how easy he's done this. 'I fucked up, Y/N.'

'You fucked up, alright. Where did you get that money from? Did you go rob a bank today, that's why you were gone and I was the one who got my ass handed to me?'

'Please don't do this.'

'Do what?' You watch him avoid eye contact; you watch the arch of his brows, the slope of his nose, the curve of his Cupid's bow, and wonder if you'll ever be able to see him the same way. 'Rafe, you're a fuckin' drug dealer. I don't want to have anything to do with that.'

'You don't have to,' he offers, speeding up a little. 'We could just keep separate---'

'WELL HOW'S THAT WORKING OUT SO FAR!'

Rafe swerves and the truck hits the side of the road, jumping you to a startle. You clutch onto the handrail above your head -- Rafe turns the wheel to the other side -- a car coming in your direction honks and moves out of your way -- Rafe gets the car in control.

Your heart is beating fast, and you're done.

'Take me home.'

'Y/N---'

'No,' you say, your hand a barrier between the two of you. 'Just... don't. I've tried to ignore that part of you, but I'm over that.'

'You're breaking up with me,' he realises.

(It shouldn't hurt; but hope died when you saw the boy you loved on top of another man, beating the shit out of him.)

'Yes.'

He doesn't argue -- knowing him, he'll call you later, when he's given you space and you've had the chance to calm down.

You know each other too well.

(Hope died when he was the reason why there were moments when you thought you wouldn't see your family again.)

He drops you off at your home, doesn't even turn the engine off. His hand catches yours before you leave and he says he's sorry once more, with tears staining his cheek, but you shake your head and rip your hand out of his.

This has been a long time coming; you can no longer live in a lie.

(The Rafe you fell in love with is gone.)

★

tagging. @jjtheangel @teenwaywardasgardian @thelocalpogue @jjmaybanky @sacredto @chasefreakinstokes @drewstarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @margaritatimebaybee @outrbank @yourlocalauthor @justawilddreamerchild @snkkat @mynamewontwork13 @sunwardsss @storiesbymads @koufaxx @drewstarkeyobx @ilovejjmaybank @jjmaybanksbaby @mahleeyuh @starkeymarkey @nicolewithasoul @kiarawilliams127 @butgilinsky @bricksatanakinswindow @starlightstarkey @copper-boom @starrystarkey93 @hotel-colson @stargazingstarkey @outerbanksbro @anonymous0writer @annedub @outerbongs @jjandreidsgirl @jjmaybanqs​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @maybanksbaby​ @yelyahryan

[rekrappeter]

care about me || r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!bestfriend!reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: being in love with your best friend is tough, it being rafe cameron makes it even worse

warnings: cursing | angsty | car crash | death wish / suicidal ideation | mention of blood

a/n: i would just like to thank @butgilinsky​ for awakening this crazy undisclosed love I had for rafe within me. plus this is my first rafe fic so i hope it’s okay  ♡ ♡ also, if anyone has requests, please send them my way ♡

One of the hardest things in life was watching your closest friend rapidly spiral into madness and not being able to do anything. Rafe Cameron wasn’t always the man that was unstable and drowning in debts, he was fifteen when he got into his first proper fight with a pogue; he always gave them lip because he was conditioned to do that but he never wanted to result to violence until he got his first taste of it, it was if his whole persona changed. Growing up with Rafe, you knew how ambitious and driven he was to do good in life - which made it even more difficult to watch him throw his life down the drain. 

Rafe was always a different person when he was around you - he was sweet, kind and he laughed a lot. You liked hearing the sound of his bellowed laughter, whether it was to do with something you said or something he came across on his phone. It wasn’t a sound you heard often when he was with Topper or Kelce, definitely never with his family. He laughed but you could tell it was forced, he was always tense around other people. 

“Hey you,” Your ears perked up at his voice and you removed the sunglasses that were resting on your face. You were out your back garden in your favorite swimwear, laying on a sun lounger trying to get an ounce of vitamin D. Rafe, who was dressed in a light blue polo and beige shorts, tried his best not to let his eyes wander down your exposed body and he swallowed back the lump forming in his throat.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, not expecting to see him until later tonight. 

Rafe sat down on the sunbed beside your legs, he scratched the back of his neck nervously and his eyes scanned the large back garden that your family had. You knew Rafe too well to know that he needed something but you weren’t going to push him. “I just thought I’d come to see my favorite girl.” 

Rolling his eyes at his words, you ignored the fluttering butterflies that swamped your stomach. It was hard not to fall for Rafe, he was charming and knew how to talk his way to the hearts of many ladies. The only thing that was different is that you never acted on the feelings that you developed, knowing that if you did, you could never go back to how it was before. “And?” You asked, raising your brow curiously. 

Rafe laughed, twisting and resting the palm of his hand on your leg that was burning from the sun. “Can I borrow your car, please? M-my bike is in the garage.”

“Do you want me to just drive you somewhere?” You questioned, wanting to spend more time with him. Despite being best friends, you felt that you haven’t seen him in so long. He was always busy, either golfing with Topper or doing an errand for his father. 

“No, no.” Rafe insisted, running his hand through his hair. That’s why he looked different, you thought, there was no gel plastering his hair back like usual. His brown locks looked soft and your eyes following his fingers going through them. “So, can I?” He asked, moving his head so that he could make eye contact with you.

You blinked rapidly, realizing that he definitely just caught you checking him out. “Yeah, of course.” If he did notice, he didn’t say anything. “The keys are where they usually are… You’re not going to get in trouble, are you?” Every time Rafe wasn’t with you, you constantly worried. 

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Not today, I have a date with a special lady tonight.” He winked, standing up from where he was sat. He reached to cup your face before bringing his lips to the side of your head. An uneasy feeling erupted inside you as you bid goodbye to him and you couldn’t relax for the rest day despite the beaming sun above you.

Seven p.m came and went, you were eagerly waiting for the return of your best friend in one piece. The two of you agreed that he would pick you up at seven and you’d go to the outdoor cinema like you used to, but so far, you haven’t heard from Rafe since he left with your car earlier that day. You tried calling him, each call going straight to voicemail. It was until eight-thirty when his name appeared on your screen and you answered it immediately, not in the mood to play any games.

“Rafe,” You exhaled, “Are you okay?” Despite the anger that was seeping through your veins, you were more worried for his wellbeing.

The first sound he made was a sob and it made your heart clench, “I-I’m sorry, y/n… can you come get me?”

“Rafe, you have my car.” You exclaimed, confused but you were already grabbing the keys to your parent’s BMW that they left behind when they went on their cruise at the beginning of the month. 

Rafe cursed through the phone, “Fuck, shit…” He mumbled, “I’ll-I’ll call my father.” 

“No, it’s fine, Ray. Just tell me where you are and I’ll be there.” 

After getting his location, you were there in less than fifteen minutes, surpassing the speed limit every now and again but your heart was pounding at the thought of Rafe being hurt. You were surprised to find out he was on the outskirts of the cut, he rarely ever visited that side of the island unless he needed to. You spotted his figure sitting on a rock, his head in his hands, and your eyes scanned the scene as you hopped out of the black car. 

Rafe stood up when he heard you, blood seeping from his multiple cuts on his arms and your car was turned upside down, smoke surrounding the silver vehicle. You couldn’t hide the obvious shock that encompassed your features and Rafe stumbled over to your nervously. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what happened but I… y/n, I can’t get done for this.”

Looking up at your best friend, disappointment replaced the shock. You knew exactly what he was asking you to do, he wanted you to take the fall for this. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin paler than usual and his fingers were shaking. “You’re high…” You mumbled, and Rafe’s head fell in sorrow.

“I’m s-”

“Great, you’ve said that three times, Rafe. It doesn’t change the fact that you got into a car drugged up! Do you know how lucky you are? You could have been killed!” You yelled at him, watching the tears stream down his cheeks. 

“I know…”

“I don’t think you do. What if you couldn’t call me to come and help your ass? You would be stuck in that car, and… and…” You couldn’t stop the tears that spilled from your own eyes, your chest heaving as you sobbed at the thought of this morning being the last time seeing Rafe. His blue eyes were trained on you, he didn’t want to hurt you and he especially didn’t want you to cry this much because of him. Despite his mind being cloudy, he reached out for you and brought you close to his chest. 

“y/n, I thought I’d be okay.” He whispered, rubbing his fingers up and down your back. Being best friends with Rafe was unpredictable, especially during these times and today just proved how any day could change with a flick of a switch. 

You pulled back from his embrace, reaching to rub your thumb over a bruise forming on his face. “I’ll call this in. Get into the car and we’ll go back to my house.” 

After you dealt with the authorities, coming up with the best lie you could possibly manage, you finally settled back in your house. Your first-aid kit was opened on your kitchen isle and Rafe sat on the stool, slightly more sober than earlier. You were cleaning the cuts on his arm, luckily he wasn’t in need of any stitches but you recommended that he go and get checked up in the hospital. Rafe’s eyes watched every move you made, noting that you barely said anything to him since you returned from the station. 

“Are you angry at me?” He asked, his voice soft. Your eyes looked up at him briefly before returning your attention to the cut on his hand, ignoring his question. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled, causing you to groan in annoyance.

You stood up straight, placing the bloody wipes in the bin beside you and looking at him intently. “I’m not angry at you, I’m happy you’re still alive.” 

“But?” Rafe grimaced, wanting to reach out to you and bring you to him but he refrained, knowing that he’d probably receive a slap in return. 

“But what? What do you want me to say, Rafe?” Snapping, you didn’t want to cry again. You had a shed enough tears today to last a lifetime; the thought of losing him made you crazy but the thought of sitting there and doing nothing for him made you insane. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Rafe.” 

Rafe’s expression fell, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. “What’s that s’posed to mean?” He whispered, he didn’t want you to tell him that you had given up on him. But he’d understand if you felt that way. 

You ran your fingers through your hair, unknotting the heads and you shook your head. “I don’t know, Rafe, but I can’t sit back and watch you throw your life down the drain as if you have nothing to live for.”

“But do I have anything to live for?” Rafe was the one to snap now, feeling the anger bubbling in his veins. The words he spoke hurt you, he noticed how your face distorted but he was only seeing red now. “I haven’t been home since this morning, I haven’t got one phone call from my family to where I am. I could have fucking died today and they wouldn’t have known unless someone came to their door, and at that, I don’t they’d even fucking care. I have no job, no college, no goals like you, Y/N. As you said, I’m just throwing my life down the drain.” He spat, standing up from the stool and stalking away from you. 

“Don’t fucking run off like a child.” You screamed after him, you watched him open the door before slamming it shut. He never left though, he knew you were right. 

“Why shouldn’t I? I should have just driven that car off a fucking cliff.” 

You rushed up at him, slapping his chest in agony. “Don’t say that.” You whispered through clenched teeth. 

Rafe started to sob, collapsing into your arms as they circled around him. His taller figure felt like a weighted blanket on you but you managed to steady yourself, comforting him. “They don’t care about me.” He cried, his fingers grasping your blouse as he tightened his grip.

“I do though.” You whispered into his ear, your heart hurting seeing him like this. Rafe was strong and thick-headed, he very rarely lost his mind like this. 

“You shouldn’t though. I got you in trouble today, and who knows what will happen down the road.” 

You pulled back from him, cupping his face in your hands but his arms remained around your waist. “I am never going to leave you, Ray. I care about you so much and I’m here to help you, always.” Rafe nodded his head, whimpering his gratitude. He sniffled his tears back, his eyes scanning your face. It happened so quickly; one minute, you were staring into his sea blue orbs, and then the next, your back was up against the wall and his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was hungry and needy, it was nowhere near how you imagined your first kiss with Rafe to be. You had studied his lips for so long during your friendship, they looked so soft and sweet. You pushed Rafe’s chest gently, urging him to stop and when he pulled away, he was breathing heavily. 

Realization washed over his features and he stepped away further but you reached out to grab his wrist to ensure he didn’t create too much space between you. “That-that was stupid, I’m sorry,” Rafe mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Rafe, I wanted that for so long.” You confessed, watching him perk up slightly.

“Really?”

“Really, but I want to know if you want it to and you’re not just doing it to ease the pain.” You whispered, and Rafe stepped closer to you, cupping your face gently and his lips met yours again. This time was the one you wished for. His lips were tender and your eyes fluttered shut, allowing him to push you back up against the wall. His thumb rubbed your jaw, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip and he deepened the kiss when you allowed him. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through his locks and tugging at them gently. The moan that erupted from his throat made your legs weak and his right hand left your face, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you up. He lifted you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Rafe pulled away this time, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes opened, his blue orbs meeting yours and he cracked a small smile. “I wanted this so bad, for years.” He said, breaking the tension that was created by both of yours heavy breathing. “I promise to be a better person.” 

“I want you to be Rafe, you don’t need to change.” 

“I want to, for you.” He whispered, connecting your lips again. In that moment, he felt wanted and needed. There was a lot more to life than just family, when you find someone that is willing to love you for who you were.

🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻

apologies for any typos

but pls gimme feedback, i beg, ty

[cultureisdarkbeer]

In Season 8, Mulder returned to a world turned upside down. This is the story of how he worked his way back into Scully's arms.

*NEW* Chapter 4 - Does Scully want to be more than friends with Mulder? Does Mulder have the courage to ask? *Reader Discretion Advised* 

Read Full Chapter Here

“Thank you for driving me home,” Scully said, as they pulled onto the street and towards her apartment.

Mulder twisted his hand around the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Thank you for attending my therapy session. What did you two talk about in there?” He tried to sound cool, but his eagerness was not lost on Scully.  

“Reviewed different techniques, how I could be more supportive.”

Mulder tilted his head. “Sometimes, the flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety attacks seemed to be subsiding. Almost as if my mental trauma is healing with my physical wounds. Then others, it is like I just got off the ship.” 

“No one should expect you to heal at any pace, Mulder. He said it should take at least three months before you might begin to feel progress..  but Mulder, however long it takes, or even if you always have certain anxieties, depression, that’s okay. There is no right and wrong.”

Mulder didn’t know how to respond so he simply nodded. If only it was as simple as time passing or even the acceptance that time couldn’t be rewound, but there was more. A lot more.

The rest of the drive was met with a comfortable silence. It was so quiet he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. A quick glance in her direction revealed her eyes were closed, then, as if feeling his gaze, she opened them and a small smile curved her lips. She reached out and grasped his hand before once again closing her eyes. Did he just hear her sigh? Mulder considered how Scully seemed more willing than ever to follow him. Now, she seemed invested, even with her interest in helping him work through his trauma. It couldn’t be that her interest in helping him was only in relation to their shared past, their friendship. So many weeks had passed for her and so much of her life he had missed. Did he have a right to demand she make a choice? Did he have it in him to take that leap of faith and put himself out there? Was he just going to sit there and let another night go by without even asking? Just let her walk into that apartment without saying anything? 

When they pulled up to Scully’s apartment, Mulder gathered up some courage and asked, “Do you still have my files on your laptop? When I was searching through the archives today I didn’t see them and I had some on my hard drive that left with my computer.”

“Actually, they took my laptop as well… buuuuut, I did have a backup hard drive and I was able to reload it into my new laptop.” Scully gave him a smile that sent a cascading warmth through his insides. “Come on up and get what you need.”

Don’t tempt me Scully.

Once inside, Scully took off her coat and headed to the bathroom. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to use my laptop. You already know the password.”

Pushing the image of Scully standing under a hot steaming shower naked and wet out of his mind, Mulder headed straight to her desk and sat down on the hard backed wood chair. A couple swipes at the keyboard and a quick search and Mulder was faced with two folders with his name on it. He considered doing a round of eenie meenie, but in the end just clicked on the top folder. The file names were all dates. In fact there was a file for every day going as far back as a week after his abduction. It had his name on it, so he picked one at random and opened it. 

 Mulder, 

I have to believe you’re out there, alive. That belief is what keeps me moving, keeps me taking those leaps to solve the next X-File. I miss you with every breath, and I refuse to give up hope. We will be together. 

Today’s case led us to Indiana, you’re going to laugh when you hear what I told Doggett….   

 He closed that file and opened another. He didn’t want to know about her and Doggett. There were more, lots more, covering cases, days off, shopping, hospital visits. Mulder couldn’t read fast enough and couldn’t stop either. He opened one dated during the time he was buried in the ground. It read:

 Mulder,

Some days I question why I continue writing to you. In the beginning I believe it was because I didn’t want to let go. Other days it felt like you were closer when I did, like  somehow, you could still hear me. Now maybe I write them so my baby may one day read them and know what you meant to me, what our relationship was like so one day they might be blessed to find the same. I prayed daily for your return and lately, I pray even harder.

I was going through my old answering machine tapes, my voicemails from my cell. I decided to take all the ones I have and put them on a cassette tape so the baby can hear your voice, know what you sounded like when I tell them about you. Tell them of the love of my life, my perfect other, and how I found him and how he gave his life for us, so that we may live. 

I spoke in the past about driving in our endless straight line and now that I can look back on it with a clear mind, I understand that night in Oregon when you said it had to end sometime, in essence, you were throwing me out of the car. 

I became pregnant with the full intent to raise this child on my own, to take on the full responsibility. Marriage was nothing I ever strived for even if the possibility of being married never strayed. I put myself, my career, the work, before those things. It was something that might or could, but nothing I truly needed. Now, when I look in the mirror, I know, you were the only one I would have ever considered that kind of commitment with. Now, that chapter of my life is forever closed without ever being written. You were my partner Mulder, in work, in love, in life.

 “Did you find what you were searching for?” Scully said, and Mulder practically jumped right out of his skin. He spun in the chair and stood to face her. His fears turned to joy. She was beautiful, radiant, standing there in her robe, casually drying her crimson locks with a towel. And those legs, those little legs, and how they felt wrapped around him… Scully in love.. with him . His heart swelled, lighting him from head to toe, spreading warmth in its wake. A kaleidoscope of emotions ran over every part of him like a raging river, healing the cracks, filling and overflowing the voids.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice low as he barely got the sound out. He had found exactly what he was searching for. He cupped her face as she searched his eyes. He watched the desire that raged in him ignite inside her. Losing that last thread of restraint, he tilted her head up towards him and his lips crashed on top of hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his jaw rocking in time with hers, their kisses desperate, almost frantic.

Despite the insatiable hunger he felt, he pulled back to judge her reaction. Her eyes were soft in their gaze, but then her lids lowered and her eyes transformed to blue steel. Before he was able to speak, her fingers were in his hair, pulling him back down, kissing him hard, deep, unleashing unrestrained need and a passion that sent the crown of his cock swelling and brushing the seam of his boxers. 

Mulder groaned and gently pushed her away before it went any further. “Is it safe to..”

“The doctor has me on no restrictions,” she answered back hastily. “I just don’t want to move too fast for you. I want you to be ready.”

Mulder laced his hands through her amber locks, knocking her towel to the floor, kissing her again as his pent up feelings burst inside his chest, exploring her mouth, entwining their tongues, caressing her face.

He felt her fingers at his waistband, undoing his button and fly..

“Scully,” he whispered against her mouth and her hand cupped his bare erection. Skin on skin. Pleasure surged in his nerve endings and throbbed in his veins. “There’s not a part of me that didn’t miss this.”

Fuck . Scully closed her grip around his cock and stroked the sleek hot steel up and down. Mulder breathed hard and Scully moaned.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said in a heady rush of impatience. 

They kissed their way down the hall, Mulder almost tripping as he had to slouch as they walked to keep them from separating, Pulling off his shirt, hopping on one leg as he stripped off his pants. 

The way Scully’s eyes widened when he took off his boxers and freed his cock made him feel ten feet tall. She gave out a warning when he removed her robe that “her body had changed,” and he replied as honestly as he could. “Scully, I’m harder than a male porn star on his first day of work. Yes, it’s because it’s you, but it’s also because you’re more beautiful than the last time I laid eyes on you.”

Scully’s cheeks blushed and her pupils dilated. He matched her smile, both of them recognizing how much was at stake, and how much they both needed this. She turned away from him and he helped her remove her robe. He combed the soft strands of her hair to expose her exquisite neck, trailing soft kisses up the sensitive skin, leaving a wake of raised flesh.  

His hands traveled down her body, reacquainting with her new curves: her breasts, her waist, her ass. Soft noises released from the back of Scully’s throat as his fingers brushed over the inside of her thighs. Lust surged through him at the sound, and his length nuzzled the small of her back. Scully gripped the footboard of the bed. 

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Mulder, please, I want you inside me.”

Her insistence only made him grow harder, but he knew it wasn’t a sprint. “H-how.. What would be most comfortable for you?”

“I think on the bed, on my knees. I can hold onto the footboard, the headboard is a little too high, and if I lean forward… What?”

“Nothing,” Mulder said, but he couldn’t prevent the upturn of his lips. “It’s.. well, you’ve given this some thought.”

Scully lifted a brow. “During that second trimester, you have no idea.”

He helped her onto the bed and followed close behind, holding his hands at her waist. Scully spread her legs and his tip grazed her. Scully looked back at him. “Easy, Mulder.” 

On her knees, and hunched forward, her ass in full glorious view, Mulder gripped his length, lined them up, and hesitantly pushed in. 

“Oh God, Mulder,” he heard Scully moan. 

Sharp pleasure bolted through him. “I know. You’re incredible.”

Easing back, slowly he pushed in again, a couple more inches before easing back again. 

“More, Mulder,” Scully gasped, reaching back, her fingers finding his hair, tugging and twisting. “Faster.”  

He was so worried about hurting her, but his excitement built and her tight, wet warmth around him only hastened it. He groaned and flexed his hips as another wave of pleasure hit him. She felt so good. The sight of them joining almost too much. This was Scully. They were finally together. 

Soon they found a languid pace, her hips doing most of the work, him aiding her movement, pulling it out and letting her push back on him to the depth she craved.  Until her knuckles whitened against the footboard. “God, Mulder. I really missed you.” Her walls pulsed and squeezed him tight and he groaned. 

With a few light thrusts her body heated and swelled snug around his cock. It made them slide easier, faster. Scully’s jaw went slack as her eyes closed, tightening as she pushed back against him. Her breath was ragged and he could see her concentrating on her movements. It was intense and exquisite and the feelings produced inside him made Mulder moan louder.

He closed his eyes and tightened his fingers on her hips, losing himself in the feeling. Again and again, more and more. He missed everything about this. Her legs tensed and he felt her sucking him further inside. He remembered that feeling. She was close. A few determined thrusts and she cried out, her muscles pulsing hard and rhythmically around him. Mulder’s forehead leaned into her shoulder and he reached for the footboard, covering her hand with his as he shouted, pouring his soul, his love, into her. 

“Scully, Scully.” He kept coming, for what seemed like an eternity. It left him spent and shaky. He had to catch himself for a moment, relishing in the feel, and calming his heart.  “Everything okay?” As he asked her he could hear the deep octaves in his own voice.

“Mulder,” she breathed out and her blue eyes sparkled at him. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sated look on her face as she made her way to the bathroom. When she returned, he helped her back onto the bed. 

They stared into each other’s eyes as they laid on their sides face to face. Scully softly caressed his cheek and he mellowed into the feeling of her fingertips across his stubble. He pressed his face into her touch, drowning in it. Mulder leaned over, his lips a breath away from hers, and he stopped to feel their familiar pull. An attraction like no other. Scully raised her face to his, brushing his lips lightly, coaxing him. He kissed her even softer in return, teasing her like she did him until her mouth opened and he could taste her. Scully moaned quietly at the contact. Not knowing exactly what to do with his hand, he used it to prop up his head, the other he ran gently into her hair, stroking it softly.  

Without words she tucked her head under his chin, her nose nuzzling his Adam's apple. Scully curled into his torso while he rubbed her back, pulling her carefully towards him until the bump of her belly rested against his tight rippled abs. From through the window he could see the last vestiges of light, painting the sky in orange and reds. White contrails highlighting the color in soft wisps. 

He was the only one she would ever consider marrying. 

Elation washed over his body. I would marry you, Scully. And raise that baby as mine, no matter how it started its life. 

As if he had said it aloud she stirred and opened her eyes. He kissed her forehead once more and returned her drowsy smile. Tugging the comforter over her, they snuggled into their cocoon. Scully’s eyes closed and she mumbled right before her breathing evened out, “Don’t go, Mulder.”

I don’t plan on it, Scully. Not ever.

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Thank you @today-in-fic​ for everything you do for us and the fandom

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[kkysolo]

Stuck On You / Chpt. 2

Prologue / Chapter One

Pairing: Ben Solo|Kylo Ren/Reader (female) Setting: Modern AU - Cyberpunk, dystopia, gangs, best friends to lovers.  Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, language, emotional reactions, classism, poverty, war, co-dependent relationships (eventual fluff, smut, romance).

A/N: Yeah, I know I said I wasn’t gonna post this story on tumblr anymore because of the anxiety posting on here causes me, but here we are in our clown shoes posting anyway. There is a major language warning for this chapter. Listen, I grew up in a pretty small town in Ireland where many of us were from poorer households and swearing as punctuation just seemed to be how we all spoke growing up. So that’s been a huge inspiration for how our characters in this story speak, though their circumstances are far more dire. Also, a very dialogue heavy chapter. Also, I tend to write in second-person omniscient, which is why you’ll see a lot of head-hopping.

Fic Summary: 

The year is 2084.

Despite its advances, society has collapsed on itself. The world is crooked, damaged, dying. Rezoned into new territories, separating the elite from the unworthy. Civilization is crumbling at your very feet, and in the midst of it all, your best friend, Ben Solo, has been missing for three years. You desperately cling to what’s left of him, hoping that he’ll come home, praying that things will fall back into place.

And then he does. And they don’t. Because life is different when you’re a scoundrel in the midst of a class war.

Available under the cut, and here on AO3

You wake with a start, inhaling sharply as your eyes adjust to the morning light. It cracks through a crooked break in the rotting window shutters, the black paint has long since flaked away to expose it’s decaying wood. You yawn, nuzzling into your pillow. You relish in the quiet of mornings like these - a brief sliver of serenity, of tranquility, amidst a raging war. There’s no patrols this morning, no roar of ion engines, no gunshots, no screaming. No sound, no peep at all from the hell you’ve come to live in. Just the quiet rumble of resistance vehicles, the soothing hum of conversing pedestrians. You stretch, elongating your limbs as you turn away from the window, groggily humming as you do. 

And then, you see him. And then, you scream. 

The pitch of your glass-shattering screech startles him awake, and he jumps out of his sleeping position - his head resting heavily against his fist, his elbow supporting his upper body weight on the arm of one of the only two chairs you own. You scuttle backward frantically, your back hitting the wall - you couldn’t afford a headboard even if you saved. Your bed doesn’t even have a frame. 

“Woah,” he grunts. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

You blink. You can feel it, the panic. You know it’s coming, and you try in vain to calm your heart as it begins to race, pounding against your flesh. You can hear it in your ears, can hear the blood draining from your face. Your breathing starts to catch in your throat as your chest tightens, and you think, for a moment, that you might vomit all over your knees. 

“You look like you’re going to puke,” he comments, rising from his seat. He steps closer to you, but you flinch, and your breathing only accelerates. “It’s alright, it’s just me, it’s Ben,” his tone drops to a soothing murmur as he continues his approach. “It’s just me, sunshine.” 

It’s the nickname that does it, that throws you over the edge. Sobs erupt from your chest with a force, causing you to cough and choke as tears start to spurt, cascading down your cheeks and streaming past your lips. The bed dips as he appears beside you, pulling you to him, right into his chest - and the feeling, how it feels to finally have you like this again, right in front of him, your skin beneath his fingertips, your hair tickling the plains of his cheeks. The moment, this indulgent little fragment of repose, it doesn’t last. You thrash against him, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you can muster first thing in the morning. 

“What the fuck, Ben?” You wail, kicking him away and scooting to the opposite side of the bed. “W-what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up,” he says - and calmly, too. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You look at him incredulously, frantically wiping the tears from your face. Your shock is replaced by a glower. 

“Where have you been,” you grit out, enunciating each word with as much venom as you can. “For the past three fucking years?” 

Ben pauses, eyes falling to the floor. 

“Smuggling,” he mumbles, almost too low for you to hear. 

“Smuggling,” you repeat the word indignantly. “You left us. You left the Resistance, your family, me, to go and fucking smuggle?” 

“It’s not that simpl-” 

You cut him off. You don’t care if it’s not that simple. Everything is that simple. 

“Well what the fuck are you smuggling?” “Just weapons at first, but now with the whole alcohol thing-” “Jesus, Ben, how the fuck did you end up in this mess?” “The Knights of Ren-” “The Kni- the fucking bounty hunters? The fucking gang? Are you fucking for real?” “They fucking found me on the outer rim on that mission with a top tier warrant on my head!” “And?”

“Wh-” Ben looks at you incredulously, mouth half hanging open. “What the fuck do you mean ‘and’? They cut me a deal, I work for them, they don’t hand me over to the Empire.” 

“Work for them? What, you’re hunting bounties, now? Picking us off?”

Ben shifts backward in surprise, a hand running through his raven hair. It’s longer now, than it used to be. 

“No, Jesus. The deal was that I bring in their credits. I smuggle whatever they want me to, I do whatever they want me to - they keep me away from the Empire, and they leave the Resistance alone.”  “Sounds like a sweet fucking deal, bet you’re living the life of luxury,” you fold your arms across your chest, sniffling quietly. 

“Well, I made them enough fucking credits,” he makes a gesture of exasperation with his hands. “But I don’t get a cut. Them leaving you alone is payment enough, as far as they’re concerned. They lose a lot of fucking money not picking up your bounties,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes that had settled on the ground now snap up to meet yours. “Do you know you’ve got a second tier warrant on you?”

You ignore him. Of course you know. 

“I can’t believe that’s what you were doing, that that’s where you were.”  “I was staying alive,”  “We needed you.” “And what fucking use would I have been to anyone dead?” He roars, and you jump only slightly. “What fucking use am I to you if I’m dead?”  “You were as good as, you dick.”  “I always knew I was coming back,” he tries to settle his temper. “I couldn’t have left you forever.” “You left for long enough, didn’t you, though? Because we didn’t know you were coming back.”  “I couldn’t-” “You could have fucking called!” You shriek. “I texted your stupid fucking phone every fucking time I thought of you, which was all the damn time.”  “I know,” he murmurs. “I got them. Your voicemail, too.” 

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you. It feels somewhat like your whole life has just shattered around you.

“I fucking hate you,” you sob. “I absolutely fucking hate you.” 

“No,” Ben murmurs, and he reaches for you again. You swat at him. “You don’t, sunshine. You know you don’t.”

“I do,” you cry. But Ben shakes his head again, and you don’t even see, don’t even notice that he’s crying, that he’s been crying. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he whispers. “Please,” and he tries again - arms winding around your waist as he pulls you to him, sliding you onto his lap. You don’t resist this time. Your head lolls against his chest as you cry, and cry and cry and cry until it feels like your throat is coated in splinters. And he holds you like that, while your hands clutch at his shirt, bunching it in your fists, and he rocks you gently. Humming softly as his own tears drip down onto your scalp. Humming a song - that song. Your song. 

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“She can’t see me,” Ben toys with his coffee cup. He sits, hunched over at your kitchen table - if you can call a decaying wooden crate with two chairs as much. “She can’t know.”

“You’re not gonna tell your own mother that you’re alive?”  You’re standing at the counter, watching him from a safe distance. Your anger, your fury has simmered, but hasn’t dissipated. “What the fuck has happened to you?”

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he grits, grinding his teeth. You’ve always hated when he does that. The noise of it would wake you during the night when you’d both shared a closet-sized bedroom some years ago. You’d shared a damp mattress, too. Mold ridden and lumpy and cold. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?”

Ben rolls his eyes. 

“What fucking good is it explaining anything to you? You don’t listen.”  “I’ve been listening.”

“Well, you’re not fucking hearing me, then,” he mumbles, focusing his attention on your feet instead of your face. He’s irritated, irate with himself for thinking this would be easy - that you’d leap into his arms without a second thought. Because really, you’ve always been this way. Stubborn, unyielding. The two things he’s always so deeply admired about you are now serving only to undermine his feeble plan. 

“Even if you did want to tell her, she’s leaving on a mission today.” “And dad?” “Going with her,” you sip at your own coffee. It tastes of used filters. “You know Han doesn’t let her go alone.” 

Ben nods solemnly, twirling his cup in his hands. 

“I came for you,” he murmurs. “That’s why I’m here.”  “For me?” 

“I needed to see you,” his voice drops an octave, and it trembles only slightly as he speaks. “And I can keep you safe.” 

You scoff. The concept of safety has been long lost on you. For years now, you’ve endured, survived - but you’ve lost sleep, jumping awake at the sound of an ion engine. You’ve lost blood, lost hair, lost half your sanity simply trying to stay alive. 

“There’s no safety, not here, not anywhere.”

“I can keep you safe,” he springs up from his seat, knocking his empty cup over as he does. “But you need to trust me.” 

“What about your parents? Your friends?” 

He’s inches from you now, biting at his lip in that way that he does, the way that makes them red raw and swollen. He’s determined, adamant that this will work - that you’ll hear him, that you’ll come with him. He needs to know that the past three years haven’t been in vain, that they haven’t been for nothing, that his work, his fucking slavery meant something. 

“My parents don’t need my help, you know that as well as I do,” he murmurs, his voice dropping deeper. “They’re untouchable. You aren’t.” 

“None of us are.”

“You’re my priority,” he insists, and the power he holds with his stance, his figure that looms over you alone almost convinces you of it - that you are. 

“Didn’t feel like that when you fucking disappeared,” you grumble, not stepping back when he moves closer. “And I don’t see how you’re going to be able to protect me. Ben Solo the smuggler, what hold do you have on the Empire?” 

He cocks an eyebrow, his honey eyes twinkling as a soft smirk forms on his lips - and all you can think of is trouble, because that smirk, those eyes - they’ve never led to anything good. 

“Ben Solo? Nothing,” he shrugs. “Kylo Ren, though? Everything.”