#but I am getting better and lying awake and staring at the ceiling

[alluralater]

i cannot get this out of my mind so i’m going to just get it out here. i’m thinking about a time i was hanging out with a casual hookup and it was our first time seeing each other actually. we’d matched on tinder and sent maybe 30 messages back and forth in the span of a half hour before i was out the door and walking through the city at 4 in the morning. insomnia had gotten the better of me, as had my need for the warmth of someone underneath me, in me. it was a quiet night. a rapid pace saturday evening in late winter had died down to this— silence, and my footsteps echoing up the lengths of sidewalk. it was the only thing reminding me that the world was at some point full of people at all. the memory of them, at least.

they were kind when i arrived. chivalrous, sweet. we made our way up to their apartment where they introduced me to their coworker who drunkenly waved hello to me from a horizontal position on the couch. i made light conversation. the kind that i am good at. easy, simple, normal. then onto the tour. classic architecture, slanting glass windows across the entire south wall. i felt a stab of envy. god i’d love to take over this lease someday. after a few minutes shown around the large apartment i was guided with a hand to the small of my back to their bedroom. fucking huge, of course. doing away with my shoes and my jacket, we sat on their bed talking. i’m not sure what we spoke about anymore, i suppose my memory isn’t very kind to me these days. i do remember that we were eventually laying down, listening to something they’d suggested. on my back, i was staring up at the ceiling. their bed was comfortable. the kind that one sinks into. like a cloud. my bed is not like this. i shift around and talk throughout listening. animatedly gesturing with both hands, the sleeves of my shirt falling above my elbows.

they are on their side, watching me talk, curious what i think of it all. i see them in my peripherals, catching every change in my expression as i listen intently. “you’re really pretty.” it was such a simple set of words yet my cheeks warmed and i could not hold back the smile which overtook my lips, nor could i avoid the urge to roll my eyes. “thank you,” i said with a laugh. their response is lost to me now, eroding images in my mind, broken chatters of sound that i can only hear on occasion when i am lying awake at night perched between wakefulness and sleep.

we are pressed together, their arm around me after they asked how i felt about cuddling. “i don’t do it often.” again, a sweet thought nonetheless. very sweet. how could i have rejected such a saccharine offer? i am huddled in the warmth of their body. how long had it been since i’d done this with anyone before having sex, as something other than given aftercare? months? years, maybe? they are smelling my hair and pulling me closer. this feels much too good. first this bed of sandman himself and now i was being held in each of the soft places my body had seemingly been yearning for in between bouts of exhaustion. vulnerable connection. another stolen comfort. it was of course, my first reaction upon realizing, to try and guide the conversation to anything other than how well we get on with one another. i spoke passionately now, leaning slightly away from their embrace enough to look about the room as i talked. without warning and at the height of my commentary, they suddenly leaned in and kissed me. my eyes widened in shock. one moment i’d been talking and the next, i was being kissed. silenced in an instant. whatever warmth i had felt in their arms, i felt here too, in the heated kiss which had my eyes fluttering closed and softening my lips to theirs.

when they pulled away i felt dazed, blinking repeatedly until finally certain of my whereabouts. i had always enjoyed kisses which were taken from me rather than asked of me. in times least excepted those kisses are even better, endlessly favored. the rest is a blur. their arm encircling my waist and pulling me to my back underneath them. our clothes coming off one piece at a time and littering the bed along with the surrounding floor. they gently removed each of the rings from my fingers, that i remember. another stolen comfort. such as it was to indulge the smile on my face as they did so.

another blur of kissing like we were mad with need, giggling at times before then ravenous. a moan falling from their mouth as my tongue claimed their neck. soft and slick and warm. and then of course, in almost no time at all, the head of their strap was positioned at my entrance. “i don’t know if i can take that,” i admitted breathlessly. not only was i having the life kissed from my body only seconds ago, i was about to be filled by an undoubtedly large cock. my body was nearly drunk on sensation. “you can take it, baby.” the confidence in their voice melted my reservations. i would take it, or find a way. they knew how wet i was already, having dragged the head of their strap over my clit just seconds ago to spread my slickness while i watched.

“i can take—” again, they acted before i was quite ready. in one swift motion they entered and filled me. a sharp gasp was drawn into my swollen lips. “how does that feel?” their inquisition to my comfort was less of a genuine question and more an observation of my arched back and brows drawn together, my nails digging into their shoulder. “so full,” i replied. they didn’t dare move yet, which was smart. as wet as i was, i was still being stretched to a point of minor discomfort. but god, it felt good. so fucking good. they leaned down, bringing their lips again to mine, careful not to move too suddenly. a single sweep of their tongue across my bottom lip and i was moaning into their mouth— whining actually —as i adjusted to them. my history of eagerness failed me none tonight. i rocked my hips gently backward then forward, sliding my tongue into their mouth at the same time and willing my body to relax enough that i could take it the way i wanted. i was desperate for more. more more more. i needed it, and they obliged. they kissed me hard once, trailing their lips down my jaw and settling against my pulse point. their free hand caught the bend of my knee and they brought my leg up high to their side. fucking christ they’re even deeper now. my eyes rolled back as i felt them slide in another impossible fraction of length. there couldn’t possibly be any oxygen left in my lungs at this point.

“that pussy feels perfect around me,” they murmured into my throat. it was all i could do to whine my agreement and nod. could i think? should i be thinking? in. sobbing moan. out. “you need to be quiet, babygirl.” i couldn’t think but i was nodding once again. desperate to oblige. it was then, challenging their own request to my will, that their back straightened. perpendicular to my body, cock sunk inside me, hands taking my legs to lay in the dips of their waist, they began fucking me. hard. my hand shot out above my head, holding onto the headboard from below. i couldn’t help it. no, i truly could not help it that my moans flew from my throat like uncontrolled motion, kinetic. forced through me with stroke after unyielding stroke. “god you’re so pretty, baby” the lowness in their appreciative tone shook loose my last efforts to stifle my sounds. my eyes barely open, unfocused. lips dragging in a single breath and them guiding out a harsh sobbing sound “oh my god oh my god fuck that’s so—” their hand dropping one of my legs then appearing around my mouth while they kept up with those consistently deep thrusts. “you’re going to wake up my guest. i need you quiet.” fucking into me deeper like every stroke was a punishment i earned and deserved. they only slowed for a moment to ask me if that was alright, their hand on my mouth. god how fucked up i am to have been nodding and groaning into their palm like a drunken slut before they’d even gotten all the words out. high pitched yearning. “oh so you’re that kind of girl, huh?” fucking me deeper while my eyes rolled back and their fingers gripped my jaw hard. “i like that.”

harder now. harder. faster. god i was getting close. so close. muffled whines. wet pussy. schlk schlk schlk. fucking god, fucking christ i’m gonna— everything stops. “not yet. i want you on top riding. come here.” removing their hand from my mouth and jaw, i knew my lips were deep red, swollen. my jaw might end up bruised. the possibility was slim but a light thrill tingled in those spots at the idea. my head was swimming. no real thoughts at all. they pulled out of me, replacing that fullness with a monstrous void. fucking christ it almost hurt. panting breaths. taking my hands and pulling me up to my knees, kissing me deeply. fuck it was almost romantic the way they held me. stolen comforts were in abundance tonight. that slippery warm strap pressed to my stomach between us made me wonder how on earth i was able to take the whole thing just moments ago. before i could ponder the question for long, they were pulling away from my lips all too soon and moving to their back. “come here.” how was i more breathless now than before. god i felt so— delicate. what a horrid strange way to feel. vulnerable. i hated it. but there i was, straddling their hips and pressing my palm to their sternum, using my other hand to guide their cock into me on a deeply held breath in spite of it all. “you’re gorgeous.” pulling their legs up to bend at the knee. oh fuck. i realized with their head pushing past my entrance that they had no real intention of letting me ride them. no wait i wasn’t ready to take them at this angle so deep. i wasn’t read— “show me how pretty girls take it.” fuck. hands on my hips and burying their cock inside me again without warning. well maybe that was the warning. brief and unfair, but a warning nonetheless.

i didn’t have time to find positioning for my hands. suddenly leaning up to compensate for the depth of them in me, hands at my sides, then holding my tits, rolling my nipples. god they just wouldn’t stop. fucking me harder and deeper and occasionally running their hands from my hips up to my waist, letting me bounce up and down on their length while they groped at me in every soft spot. i’d been whimpering along with every upward arc of their hips but now i was hardly able to do anything but babble on with my stupid fucking “yes yes yes oh fuck” as if my expansive vocabulary only held a collection of three words. maybe six. “don’t stop. please don’t stop oh fuck yes” like a stupid fucking slut. and here was this fucking person underneath me, hands on my hips forcing me down on their cock in one swift motion. holding me there. i was getting pissed off now. i could feel my features blooming with flushed hues of pink frustration and then embarrassment. eager and fucking stupid. needy. “tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you.” they were having fun with me. toying with me. i clenched my jaw and my fists. “come on, baby.” a few lazy thrusts in me to coax. fuck. i had to shut my eyes for a moment and summon a deep breath. suffice it to say, i didn’t feel particularly strong of will at this time or in this position. “i want you to keep fucking me.” “how”

okay this was too much. tight jaw and pussy clenching. that patience broke. leaning forward and taking them by the throat. one hand by their head, my lips hovering over theirs. feeling them sink farther into me but paying the sensation no mind. “pump your cock into me just like this or you can watch me put my clothes on and leave.” oh that did the trick. a shocked look of excitement passing over their face quickly followed by a “whatever you say, baby.” hands grasping my hips tighter and spreading their legs a bit wider. wait maybe i shouldn’t have— “oh FUCK.” rutting into me recklessly, wildly from below. oh no no no no no it felt so good so good too good. my grip on their throat loosened, hand falling to the bed, now holding myself up on my braced arms. “where’s that attitude, huh?” warm breath on my lips. they were moving too quickly for a thorough kiss but this would have to do. messy. messy moaning against their lips and into their mouth. stupid fucking high pitch in my voice again because i just couldn’t help it. they shouldn’t know how easily they get me all the way there. stupidly hot. i wanted it. i wanted more. fluidly rocking my hips, matching pace. forcefully taking their jaw in my hand, turning their head to the side and licking a trail from the underside of their jaw to their ear. something was coiling in my veins, ready to burst forth in the most unruly of displays. my tits pressed to their chest when they wrapped an arm around my back and held me tight to their body. moaning and laughing directly in their ear, tongue out. feeling their fingers dig into my waist on either side. god i was so far gone. they’re hitting my g spot. hitting my g spot. hitting it right there right there right there so fucking full so fucking wet i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum i’m gonna— “i’m gonna fucking cummohmygodimgunnacum” stupid and slurred incoherent whining. holding me tight tight tighter. harsh demand vibrating in their chest. practically growling. “then fucking do it. cum.” and like the stupid slut i am, crying and sobbing out my moans of confirmation—

i came.

[oliversrarebooks]

lay down on the operating table

TW: forced sedation, experimentation, restraints, struggling

Lay down on the operating table for us. I know you're upset about being experimented on and brainwashed, but it's for the greater good. You'll feel much better about it once we've sedated you. These restraints are for your own safety. Just put your arm down, and -- there we go, all secured. Just relax. There's no point in fighting. You should know that by now.

That's right, soon you'll be trapped inside a body that's too heavy and too drowsy to move, completely relaxed, unable to focus on anything but how much you want to sleep. Every fiber of your body will be relaxed. Your eyelids will become too heavy to keep open. The sedation will slowly overwhelm you until you can't fight it any more. 

And once you're asleep, no matter what is done to you, you will not resist. You won't even be aware of what is happening. You'll be completely at our mercy, sleeping so peacefully. Once the sedative starts to kick in, you won't even remember a thing.

Here, let me put the mask on you and secure it. It's only oxygen. Now breath in deeply. One deep relaxing breath for me. In and out. That's it. Another deep breath. In and out. Good.

Now I am going to start the drug that will put you to sleep. It'll take a few minutes to work, but soon it's going to make you very, very relaxed, and very, very sleepy. No use holding your breath. Just breath normally. There you go.

That's it. Relax and let the sedative work its magic on you. You'll start to feel drowsy and floaty as the drug enters your system. Your eyes will become heavy, and you'll let them drift shut. Your mind will blank, leaving you so relaxed. Do you feel it yet?

You're starting to look a bit dazed. The sedation is beginning to work, I think. You're feeling nice and relaxed, aren't you? And so sleepy. I can see your eyes blinking so slowly. No, no, it's no use to struggle against the restraints. Eventually, you'll stop fighting it and go to sleep. 

Your body is becoming heavy and your mind is growing hazy. Just lie back on the table, yes, that's good. Take another deep breath. Is that a yawn? Is the gas making you drowsy? You're starting to feel it affecting you, aren't you? Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, fighting those heavy eyelids.

I bet you feel so calm and peaceful. Like you want to let yourself drift off to sleep, right?

Your body and mind are relaxing and becoming more sedated, and there's so little you can do about it. Your eyelids want to drift shut. That tiredness is spreading all throughout your body. Is it starting to get hard to keep your eyes open? Is your head starting to feel heavy? Do you feel like you could fall asleep at any moment if you wanted to?

Yes, that's how the sedative is supposed to make you feel -- calm, relaxed, heavy, sleepy. You're fighting your body's natural urges to go to sleep. You'll lose that battle. You are going to go to sleep. 

Did you realize that you've stopped struggling against the restraints? It looks like you can barely keep your eyes open. Slowly and surely, the sedative is putting you to sleep, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's no use fighting those heavy, tired eyelids. They're shutting all on their own.

That's right, you're completely unable to fight the sedation. It's strong and powerful. It will make you feel floaty and drowsy and oh so blissful. It will override your desire to stay awake. It was all over the second we started the drug, and you knew that.

The sedation is conquering your body and soon it will conquer your mind. Your body will fall asleep soon. Let yourself stop fighting, let sleep claim your helpless body. Let sleep take you. Let the sedation claim you. Let your eyelids close. 

You're becoming drowsy, drowsier and sleepier. Soon your eyelids will close, and you will give in to the sedation, and you will be so docile and pliant and entirely at my mercy. Are you ready for that? The moment when your eyelids close will be the point of no return. A fleeting moment when you are not yet asleep and not quite awake. A moment where you know you've lost the fight, where you feel utterly helpless.

There we go. Shut those sleepy eyes for me. Don't open them again. Let the sedative put you fast asleep. There we go, fall asleep. Go to sleep, deep asleep. So deeply asleep. It feels so good to stop fighting and go to sleep. And now that you've fallen asleep, we can do whatever experiments we please.

Now, we can get to work.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Can I please have something about Mjf x reader at All In in London? You can chose whatever you want to write I couldn’t think of anything sorry

London bridge

Summary: You and Max go sightseeing before the big PPV

Word count: 897

Main Masterlist MJF Masterlist

Y/n’s pov:

I woke up this morning with the sun shining in my eyes, it was a cool chilly day in London. Max and I had arrived in London a few days before the PPV to sightsee and catch up on some much needed rest. For the most part we had adjusted to the time difference but of course Max being Max needs his beauty rest. I felt nervous, tomorrow was All In. Max would be wrestling two matches and somehow I managed to get dragged into the rivalry with best friends and the BCC. That means I will be a part of the stadium stampede for the second time in my career. Double or Nothing 2020 I was a part of the Elite’s team and here we are in 2023 on the side of The Best Friends. To be completely honest I was worried about Max’s matches and not my own, sure I was a female and saw the twitter gossip saying I should not be in such a violent match but that didn’t bother me. What did bother me was how Max’s relationship with Adam Cole would turn out to be when this is all over. 

My thoughts were broken when I felt Max put his arm around my waste and pull me close into his chest. “Go back to sleep, we still have time” I looked at the clock and it read *7:15 am*. I wanted to cave and let Max continue to use me as a human body pillow but my mind was awake. 

“Max, you need to let go of me, I need to get up!” I said, trying to break free of his grasp. 

“Y/n, I know you are stressed out right now, but killing yourself in that gym isn’t going to do anything” How did he know I was planning on going to the fitness room in our hotel that was just so conveniently located on the same floor as our room? “I know you Y/n, just stay for a little bit longer then we can go out for a nice breakfast” said a very sleepy Max. 

His words were true, he did know me, almost too well. When Max and I first met five years ago at the first All In we instantly clicked, slowly becoming friends and four years later lovers. One of my bad habits I had picked up during my time in Japan was working out till your worked out. Working out to the point of exhaustion, muscles on fire, body in pain, begging for it to stop but not being able to. Countless hours nonstop of intense training as a punishment for feeling feelings that are meant to be felt. As much as I hated to admit it, Max was right. Working out till i’m worked out the day before the biggest PPV in not only the history of AEW but Professional Wrestling itself was stupid. But It was killing me just lying there staring up at the ceiling of our hotel room not being able to fall back asleep. So I decided to get up, shower and get ready for the day while Max slept a little longer. 

****

Max’s  Pov

I love Y/n but sometimes she worries me. Everyone was nervous and stressed about All In but I could tell there was something else that was bothering her, even if she didn’t know it. So, I thought a nice breakfast would brighten her up and take some of the stress away, and if that didn’t work, well maybe a nice massage would do the trick. 

Y/n and I walked around the streets of London for a while before finding a cafe which had an amazing view of the London bridge. Even though it is August it was still chilly. I wore pants with a nice sweater alongside my Burberry scarf of course. Y/n had jeans and her Burberry jacket to keep her warm with the cool breeze. The two of us had high tea. Even though I despise going for tea (since my mother always forced me to go with her ever since I was little) I sucked it up and did it for Y/n because I know she enjoys it. Doing things you don’t like for the other is part of being in a relationship, something Y/n taught me. Not to be selfish and help me to become a better person, I will always be grateful for that. 

Tea consisted of mini sandwiches, scones, pastries, fruit and of course tea. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would and was happy to see it help Y/n feel better. After we finished we spent the remainder of the day walking around town. We stopped in many different small shops, ate delicious pastries and even got to see the London bridge. 

I was so glad to see how genuinely happy Y/n was, being able to forget about what tomorrow held even if it was just for a few hours. It was moments like these where we acted like real people. Not focused on acting a certain way for the sake of a camera. Tomorrow we would be MJF and Y/W/N but for now we were just Max and Y/n, two people who rarely were let out into the real world. 

[echo-goes-mmm]

Old Friends #2

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: rape mention

Laith woke up slowly. Soreness and exhaustion seeped into his bones as awareness came to him. 

He opened his eyes. The lights were dim enough he could blink away the adjustment.

Where was he? He tried to sit up, but something tugged at his wrists. He looked down.

The cot had railings, and he was cuffed to them at both sides. There was an iv inserted into his hand, and a heart monitor beeped softly nearby, its clip on his finger. He knew better than to attempt to remove them, even if he could reach.

A power-dampener encircled his ankle, a similar model to the ones used in prison.

Of course.

The room was windowless, but the dim light cast plenty of shadows around the place. Almost like a taunt. 

There was a chair to his left, and a small table with two glasses and a pitcher to his right. There was a large cabinet against one wall. The door across the cot was steel, with a single small window. 

It wasn’t a hospital, and he certainly wasn’t back in Supervillain’s fortress. If he were, he’d be a corpse. 

If he was lucky.

He squinted to try and make out the label on the iv bag, but no dice. Who knew what it was pumping into his system?

Laith lay back down, his head hitting the pillow underneath. Nothing to do but wait.

___________________

Laith had almost dozed off again when the steel door opened with a woosh. He didn’t bother looking.

Whoever it was came to the end of the cot.

“Hey.” It was Hero. “How are you feeling?”

Laith stared up at the ceiling. It was a boring white. Not even a bump in the paint job.

“Not talking, huh?”

“Right to remain silent,” he said.

Hero didn’t say anything. He moved to the side of the bed. Hero poured whatever was in the jug into a glass.

“Do you want some water?”

Laith didn’t answer.

Hero sighed. “It’s not poisoned. It’s just water. See?” Hero took a sip from the cup.

“I don’t care,” Laith said, turning to look at him.

Hero sat the glass down. “What do you care about?”

“Am I under arrest?”

Something flashed over Hero’s face. “Not… exactly.”

Laith stared back up at the ceiling. “If you’re going to throw me back into prison,” he said, “You might as well shoot me now.”

“Supervillain won’t get his hands on you again.”

“Right. Because he had so much trouble the last time.”

Hero pulled open the drawer of the table, and removed a file. “What were you sentenced to?” he asked, flipping through the pages.

“Thirty years, without possibility of parole.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hero frown.

“That can’t be right. Just for theft? I mean it’s impressive theft, but you aren’t a violent offender.”

“You break into an entire lower class neighborhood, you get fourteen months. Break into a couple mansions and a museum? Thirty years. Got to protect the precious wealthy,” he explained dryly. Surely Hero knew how things worked by now.

Hero pulled out a page of the paperwork.

“Your file says you were released after three years, finished probation without incident, and now work in an office building.”

“Like Supervillain said. It’s amazing what money can change.”

“How long did you actually serve?”

“Not thirty years, clearly.”

Hero scanned another sheet of paper. Laith traced the shadows on the ceiling with his eyes. What he wouldn’t give to be… damn. There wasn’t anywhere to disappear to, was there?

“You’re younger than I thought,” commented Hero.

“Surprise.” Laith half-heartedly shrugged, and immediately regretted it. The movement pulled at an injury, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs.

He gritted his teeth.

Whatever drug was in the iv, it was no longer working.

The door wooshed open again.

“Hero,” said the new person. “You didn’t tell me he was awake.”

“Sorry, Healer.”

Healer moved to the side of the cot, checking the iv bag. “How are you feeling?” They asked.

It was no use lying to a doctor. It wasn’t worth it.

“Bad,” he muttered.

Healer peeled back the covers, and Laith hadn’t even noticed that he was wearing open hospital clothes, his chest exposed.

Electrical burns and bruises covered most of his skin, and bandages wrapped around his ribs.

They brushed over a tender burn as they adjusted the wrappings, and he hissed at the pain.

“I’ll add more medication to the line,” they said. “You have some cracked ribs, in case you didn’t know.”

He didn’t know. All the pain had blurred together over the years.

“Do you-” Healer glanced at Hero, and back at him. “Do you want a rape kit done?” they asked, voice lowered.

Laith recoiled, his ears ringing with fury.

“I didn’t want to do one when you were unconscious,” they explained.

“Thanks for being so gracious,” he snarled. “In case you haven’t heard, I already know.”

“Well yes, but evidence-”

“If you fucking touch me there, I swear to god-”

“We get the idea,” interrupted Hero.

Healer administered the pain meds into the iv, and left. 

Laith closed his eyes. He could already feel them working.

“That was rude,” said Hero. “They were just doing their job.”

“Why did you tell someone?” he asked, hating how small his voice sounded. “That was private.” 

“Only Healer and I know. I didn’t tell anyone else.”

“Half of your fucking teammates have super hearing. So everyone knows,” he retorted. The effect was somewhat lost considering how his voice shook.

“I’m sorry.”

Laith opened his eyes to look at him. His vision swam with tears, and he despised himself.

“Go away,” he whispered, his voice as wet as his cheeks. “I hate you.”

Hero’s face fell, and Laith didn’t feel even a little bad about it.

“Okay,” said Hero, “That’s fine.”

He reached down and clicked open one of the cuffs before turning to leave.

Even the small mercy of some allowed movement seemed patronizing.

Hero didn’t look back as the door closed behind him. 

Underneath his anger, a part of Laith desperately wished he had.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1

[hellverse]

Touch starved Dean (858)

It was 4 AM and Dean was still awake. He was spent, tired, just plain exhausted really, but there was a tingling in his chest and under his skin he couldn’t quite kick. 

He hadn’t seen Cas in a while, so earlier that day when the angel had finally returned, he pulled Dean into a warm hug. Dean hugged back, of course, but he also made sure that the interaction was brief. Just like he always did. 

It was funny, really. He always considered touch to be something good, something that felt important. But as it goes, he tried to convince himself he didn’t need it.

In reality, it was all for show. Dean knew. Knew that he wanted it, needed it, but convincing himself of the opposite made the pretending easier. For a while it worked, he kept up the charade for both himself and those around him. But for better and for worse, Cas never stopped trying.

Dean would never go to the extremes of completely avoiding meaningful touches, but he rarely ever allowed himself to show just how much he wanted it. At some point, the walls he put up developed tiny cracks and he had to stop lying to himself. It’s hard to argue with the voice in your head, when you both know the truth. 

Instead he told himself it wasn’t a necessity, that he could want it but still survive without it. And so it went on. He craved, he wanted, he pretended. 

It wasn’t much different with Cas, at first. Dean played the same game, kept to the same self-set rules. But now as he stared at his ceiling at 4 AM, he thought of the angels soft smile as he hugged Dean, the hundreds of smaller touches between them, the way Dean felt a pull towards Cas, a pull to be near, be close. 

It was dangerous. Dean was desperate to focus on the surviving not living, but the pull held promises of crossing that line. And well, that never really worked out for him, now did it? 

So Dean tried, he tried to bend the truth, tried to forget, but the tingling stayed, as if it had permanently stained his soul. All he ended up with was a maybe - that maybe the edge of a cliff wouldn’t be so scary. 

Before he could do so much as think it through, he was standing in front of the room Cas liked to stay in. It wasn’t far from his own. Dean knocked quietly and after a beat the angel opened the door. 

“Dean? It’s late,” confusion was clear in his voice. 

“Yeah, I, uh, know,” Dean let out an almost nervous chuckle, “is it okay if I come in?”

Cas seemed even more puzzled at that, but let Dean in nonetheless. 

“Is something wrong?” the angel had turned half of his confusion into concern. 

Dean wanted to say no. Or maybe. He wanted to tell Cas he missed him, that he was happy to see him, but the words sat heavy in his throat, so he did the next best thing - or really the thing that he actually came for - he pulled Cas in for a hug. 

Receiving no explanation from Dean, Cas stood frozen still for a second, before wrapping his arms around him. It was warm, so warm that the tingling under his skin grew into something else, something made of tiny fires wherever Cas was touching him. 

Dean had a distant thought of letting go, an echo reminding him how he shouldn’t need this, shouldn’t have it, shouldn’t let it get too far, because once he got deep enough he would get pulled under. And he wasn’t sure he could just move on after that.

But he couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t live on brief hugs, subtle shoulder brushes, short-lived touches. His whole body ached from the need and he couldn’t ignore it much longer.

So Dean stayed. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Cas, longer than he ever had before. And Cas let him, like he knew the angel would. 

Time passed slowly, comfortably. When Dean pulled away, concern was still present on the angels face, but the soft smile had returned as well. Dean was buzzing, contentment flowing through his veins and in the momentary daze he let himself have more. 

Dean stood close to the angel, hadn’t stepped away after the hug. He lifted his hand near Cas’ face, held it there for a second, before catching some out of place hairs and pushing them back. Dean then followed the outline of Cas’ jaw, starting below his left ear and ending up at his chin. He let his fingertips move up, tracing along the angels cheekbone. Cas let him, he only moved his arm so it could rest around Dean’s waist again, softly grabbing at his shirt. 

They stood there silently. Dean’s eyes followed his own fingertips, but every now and then he would look up, only to find Cas staring back at him, a calmness in his eyes. 

Being on the edge really wasn’t that scary. Maybe falling wouldn't be either. 

[hannahssimblr]

I am afraid, even, to start eating tortillas from the packet in case the rustling is as annoying as everything else I do, so I ignore my craving for them and let the time crawl on with the speed of creeping molasses, as above the garden, the edge of the sky, a deep, moonless blue, is tinged rosy with the first blush of dawn. It’s that hour of the morning that people always swear they are the only ones awake, but I know better. Too many times I have walked the streets at this time, somewhere between four and five, when the streetlights tint the city sepia. I’ve watched the sunrise in dew soaked clothes in somebody’s back garden, from a bench on the seafront, cocaine eyes manic and unblinking while nurses, bin men, delivery drivers climbed into their vehicles on the silent residential street and started their day where I ended mine.

Somehow, at this table with Michelle I feel entirely alone, invisible, like some ghost that insists upon haunting her with annoyances, knocking over a glass here, opening a door there that she’ll only have to get up and close. There is no silence more deathly than the one between us tonight in the absence of our only mutual friend, and I can’t ignore the sting of it. I don’t really understand why it is like this, it just is. 

My mind drifts to King Lear, of a quote from the second act that I can’t fully recall, and in that desperate, panicked manner of someone hours away from an exam, I toss my maths book to the side and fan through the text books on the table in search of the play. I find poetry, I find exam papers, I find the text book but the play is not here. 

“Do you have your King Lear on you?”

Michelle glances up from her notebook, “Not here.”

“Is it… in the house?”

“Yeah, my room.”

“Okay, will you get it for me? I left mine at home, I think, and I really need to look over something for the exam.”

She pauses reluctantly, but sighs as she rises from her seat, “Yeah, hang on.”

When she’s gone I take the opportunity to polish off the cheese tortillas and a penguin bar or two, then, thirsty, I head back into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. The coffee machine is plugged in, its filters stacked in a little bowl upon the counter, and I surmise that Debra wouldn’t mind, she told me earlier to help myself to anything in the kitchen. I take a cup back into the dining room and sip it, staring blankly at the wall as my brain buzzes so restlessly with information that I can almost hear it aloud. 

The notebook Michelle has been writing in is open across the table, and I flip it around to read, nosily, though nothing very interesting is written in it. Something about Oliver Cromwell. Her handwriting is nice though, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen something she’s written, and… she’s been gone a while. 

I lift my eyes to the ceiling and listen, though I can’t hear her walking around up there, and all ideas I have about texting her go out the window as soon as I see her phone is still lying on the table next to her pen, so I debate going up to find her. What if she succumbed to exhaustion like Jen and collapsed into bed? The last thing I want to do is go up and disturb her, but what if she’s still looking for King Lear? What if she’s forgotten about it? I picture her rifling helplessly through an impossibly large, overwhelming stack of textbooks while growing increasingly distressed, and I feel bad for even asking her to go.

Perhaps it’s my own exhaustion overtaking the already poorly functioning rational part of my brain, but I leave my cup of coffee on the table and go up the stairs to find her. 

Hers is the only bedroom with stickers on the door. They’re not recognisable anymore, after years of being bleached by the sun that comes in through the south facing landing window all day, and half peeled away, but I remember they were flowers and stars once, and little bubbly letters that spelled out her name in a silver arc. 

MI HELL 

It says now, missing letters and all, considering this room is where she spent six full weeks wailing over Evan is pretty apt, but this is probably hilarious to me alone. 

I knock gently.

Her voice is muffled from within, “Yes?”

“Did you… did you find the play?”

“Oh. No, sorry, I was-” she comes to open the door, “Shh! I don’t want to talk too loudly, no, I couldn’t find it.”

“You couldn’t?” I peer into the bedroom behind her to where a notebook is open on the duvet, “and then what? Were you reading your own diary or something?”

She scowls, “none of your business, I just got distracted.”

I hesitate, “Okay, but like, King Lear?”

“Ugh, King Lear. Look for it yourself,” she steps away from the door and I’m not sure what to do. Has she given me permission to enter? Hesitantly, I let myself in.

“Shut the door,” she commands as she snaps the notebook shut and stows it away beneath her bed, “I don’t want everyone waking up with you talking in the hall.”

“Well I was whispering.”

“You don’t know how to whisper.”

“What? Yes I do, I’m whispering right now.”

“You aren’t, you’re just talking in a quiet voice, that’s not whispering.”

“It is whispering. If I was talking in a quiet voice I’d be talking like this.”

“Oh my God, shut up.Just grab the play and go back downstairs.”

“Yeah. Okay. Where is it usually?”

“Over there somewhere,” she gestures vaguely to the corner of her room with a shelf and a desk, both stacked high with a mound of various books, which isn’t an encouraging sight. 

“Uh, okay,” I try to muster up the strength to search for Shakespeare, but my sleepy eyes drift aimlessly from the shelf to the desk, where a laptop sits next to a cup of paintbrushes and pencils. There are clean clothes folded and stacked on the chair and a wicker basket on the floor beneath the desk. It’s full of crumpled up pieces of note paper, like she’s written and thrown away a hundred furious notes about someone. Evan, probably, but potentially me. Michelle, who is fussing with the pillows on her bed, turns to stare at me. 

“What are you gawking at?”

“I’ve just realised that I’ve never been in your room before.”

“Well that’s because my dad didn’t want you to be.”

“Yeah. I always wondered what you and Jen got up to here.”

“Nothing, really, we usually just grabbed whatever games or magazines we came for and went back down to hang out with you,” she folds her arms, adding, “I suppose we didn’t really get why you couldn’t even just come up back then. It all seemed a bit dramatic.”

“I don’t think your dad liked me.”

“He does.”

“Back then though, I think he thought I’d get up to some freaky shit if he let me in your room.”

“I don’t think he thought that.”

I  huff out a laugh, “I’m pretty sure he did.”

“No, he always calls you ‘that nice American boy’, and lectures me about how I should study hard and focus on my school work to be more like you.”

“He doesn’t know me very well then, apparently. Maybe I would have tried something freaky.”

The corner of her mouth curls up, “No, I suppose he doesn’t know you. You’ve fooled him. I think that he just hated Evan so much that you were like, the preference. He definitely started coming around on you when you were tutoring Jen.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

With her frosty demeanour somewhat thawed I seize permission to look around the room a little bit more. It’s odd, I often pictured what this room might look like as I sat in the living room below and made strained conversation with Michelle’s parents, but it wasn’t like I had many girls' bedrooms to compare it to. I guessed that she had purple walls, because purple seemed like a Michelle colour. Her school bag was purple, and the clips she wore to pin back her hair. I imagined that maybe she’d have glow in the dark stars and a funky, wavy mirror on the wall.

Michelle’s walls are blue. The room is nothing like how I’d pictured it, but she’s seventeen now and this room is like all teenage bedrooms, a hybrid between a child and an adult space. Her favourite toy, a fluffy tiger, is perched on a shelf next to a series of fantasy novels and a pink, childish bedside locker has The Bell Jar on top of it, along with her reading glasses and a digital alarm clock. I’m struck with the knowledge that I will never know what it looked like back then, like the child version of Michelle herself, it is gone. I turn to a cork board on the wall behind me, filled with concert tickets, wrist bands, postcards, photographs, a map of the things she’s done with her life in all of the time that I sort of imagined her sitting around being angry and miserable. I touch a picture pinned to the bottom corner, of her and Jen at the sea when they were eleven. I know exactly where they are, it’s seapoint. I know because I was there too. 

I bend so I am level with it and give it one, sharp flick, “You tore me out of this photo.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[ghostwriter-of-silly-things]

Time To Crawl Into A Hole And Die

Word Count: 2,320

Warnings: um.. cringe writing? (/hj), emetophobia warning

let me know if anything needs to be tagged

Benjamin made a noise, then rolled over. He was lying on one of the less icy couches in the place, using my freshly washed army jacket as a blanket. Although the couch still crunched underneath him. 

  I laughed quietly to myself. "Hey, sleepyhead." I seriously thought I was going to get whacked round the head for that, but nothing happened. Maybe he was too tired. Benjamin opened one of his eyes a crack and looked at me. Then, he closed it again. 

  "What day is it?" Benjamin said blearily, his voice sounding like he had just eaten a load of chocolate. 

  "Still the same day it was when you passed out," I answered. 

  Benjamin rolled onto his back. "Ugh. I'm tired. How am I still tired? This is getting old." I guessed this was more of a rhetorical question, and stayed silent. Benjamin stretched his legs and arms out on the couch and lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

  "So," I began, then realized I didn't have anything to say. 

  "... Yeah," came the flat response. "We haven't been 'destroyed' by the hockey guy yet then?"

  "Apparently not." Silence filled in the gaps in our conversation, if it could even be called that. Muffled noises from the other room joined it, possibly Cal's beloved hockey. He had shown me to a mini laundromat, where I could finally clean my oil-soaked clothes. It was nice to be back in something that didn't crackle when I moved. Also, the detergent smelled good. I had to get the brand they used off of one of them. 

  "Is, uh... this your jacket?" Benjamin asked tentatively, after he'd looked down to assess the new weight he felt on his torso. I answered in the affirmative. "Do you... want it back? I'm fine without it, and we really don't need you getting frostbite right now." Benjamin turned over to look at me, and I couldn't help noticing how much younger he looked like this. It was weird.

  There was also a kind of... pallor to him. Almost sickly. Once you got past how intimidating he was, it didn't look like there was much there. 

  I hadn't recognized it until now, but Benjamin radiated a kind of old energy, like he had had to grow up too fast, and had way too many responsibilities to keep up with. In fairness, keeping me from dying had been a full-time job since we had met. But now, when he was only half awake and not actively trying to repel everyone, it softened. The worry lines on his face had relaxed. He seemed sadder too. That stoic façade he put up was clearly hiding something, and I knew all about that. It was definitely something to do with the death of his family. I knew about that too. And if that's the only family he had apart from his godly parent, again, like me, we must be more similar then he first realized. I stared at Benjamin, as if by doing so I might telepathically gain memories, and wondered what else we had in common. 

  "Hey," I said out of the blue. "Out of interest, how old are you?"

  "Well, I'm... uh.. 16," Benjamin said, then stopped. "What about you?" He said it quieter, as if anyone else hearing him would cause a natural disaster. 

  "I'm 15," I said proudly. After all, I had survived this long without getting brutally murdered by a mythical monster, and without a magic camp. That had to count for something. "Also, yes I would like my jacket back, it's below freezing in here."

  The corners of Benjamin's mouth went up at this. "Can't handle the cold, then, Fire Boy?"

  I faltered. "I -" I didn't take my jacket back yet. I ran hot, obviously, because of the... fire thing, and I could stand the cold better than most, but that comment dropped the temperature by ten degrees. I didn't like to think about the fire, and I hated that nickname. But I cracked a smile. "No, I'm fine, but I need it to complete my carefully constructed outfit. Don't you see how fashionable I am? The grease stains really added to it, but it was getting a little boring." I yanked my jacket off Benjamin, pulled it on, twirled around and posed like a model. "Just look at me. I ooze fashionista vibes, right?"

  Benjamin laughed. Well, more of a half-hearted chuckle, but I didn't really care. I had made him laugh, an achievement in itself. He was half asleep, but it still counted. It was kind of sweet, different than I'd thought it would be - given his normal demeanour. Benjamin's eyes lit up as he laughed, holding a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes crinkled up with amusement. He hardly seemed like the grumpy guy who had kept me from accidentally killing myself a few times the night prior, with random anvils falling from broken or fraying ropes, fire spurting from weird place that I hadn't heard because I was actually focused for once. That was a world away from what was in front of me.

  A world away from stony glares and clipped remarks. A world away from crossed arms and eye rolls. A world away from the weight of everything a demigod had to carry, and even though I was new to this, I knew it was a lot. 

  So I just sat and watched the laughter lines etched on Benjamin's face as they faded and his eyes became heavy and lidded again. I watched as Benjamin scanned the room before settling deeper into his depression on the couch, folding his arms into him in an attempt to stay warm. 

  "Oh shit," Benjamin whispered, eyes wide, and clamped a hand over his mouth as he gagged, miming slowly but frantically for something to throw up in. I hastily grabbed the nearest thing -- a frostbitten vase that was probably more expensive than Cal's entire collection of hockey gear -- and shoved it in the other boy's vicinity.

  He grabbed it, and held it under his mouth while he vomited at least three times over the side of the couch. Groaning, he flopped back onto the couch cushions and wiped his mouth on his hoodie. "I hate this," he mumbled. "So gross."

  Benjamin turned to make eye contact with me. "Thanks."

  We stayed like that for a while, and I didn't want to disturb the moment where I felt like maybe he didn't actually hate me. He'd just been so.. grumpy. Irritable. Cold.

  He was like that with Jason and Piper, too, but it still felt more than a little personal. And maybe it was. Maybe he just disliked me, personally, and honestly I could get why he would. I wasn't the easiest person to be friends with. Maybe he was just like that with everyone. Being a demigod wasn't the easiest life, to say the least, and I'd only been living it a few days. Maybe it was easier to just be angry with the world. 

  But maybe, secretly, he did actually like me. Even just a little bit. And maybe that was a nice thought to hang on to. 

  Benjamin yawned widely, covering his mouth, and his eyes dropped, and a new expression overtook his face. Confusion, shock, but also something else, something I couldn't quite place.

  Then, he spoke, softly, and I almost didn't catch his next words, mumblings of a sleep-addled brain: "You have... nice eyes."

  He dropped asleep again after that, but I heard what he had been trying to hide. There was something so deeply sad in the tone of voice when Benjamin said those words, the sound made my heart ache. It was like he had been talking to someone else. 

  My eyes widened as I processed the words that had so easily tumbled from Benjamin's mouth. Granted, like I had reminded myself over and over in the short time he had been awake, Benjamin was tired, sleep deprived, and in between naps, but that still didn't mean that he hadn't meant it. Did I have nice eyes? They were brown. Normal. No different from most people. But... they were pretty. Maybe. Hopefully. What color were Benjamin's eyes? I should have paid more attention. Should I have?

  But I felt heat spread into my cheeks. No one had ever said anything like that to me before, except my mom... but that didn't count and she was gone. I was reeling. And from such a small thing too. Was this normal? Was I sick? Maybe a cold? Was I delirious? 

  I hoped not. Then my nose caught fire, and I spent a good few minutes trying not to: a) set anything on fire, b) not break anything while panicking trying to put it out, and c) wake Benjamin up during said shenanigans. I knocked a frozen brass pot to the floor, which immediately shattered onto the ice. I was thoroughly startled and opted to sweep it under the couch with my foot, but thankfully Benjamin didn't wake up. 

  I realized, after a few seconds, that I was sat on the Festus Block. I busied myself with unfolding Festus while I waited for Jason and Piper to come back. While also not overthinking anything that was said to me at all. 

When Jason and Piper came back down to the entry hall, Cal, Benjamin and I were waiting for them, Benjamin looking considerably less knocked out and me considerably cleaner. Festus was also awake again, snorting fire over his scales to keep himself defrosted. As I saw the girl again, I couldn't help but to loose all sense of rationality, and all I could think about was her.

  I watched her walk down the stairs, combing my hair back through my fingers in an effort to look more presentable. She was so lovely, and I was convinced I was going to finally get a date. It had to happen sometime, right? Benjamin grunted beside me, probably disparaging at my crush on her. 

  At the bottom step, she turned to Piper. "You have fooled my father, girl. But you when not fooled me. We are not done. And you Jason Grace, I will see you as a statue into he the one room soon enough."

  "Boreas is right," Jason said, his disdain evident, "You're a spoiled kid. See you around, ice princess."

  Her dark eyes flared pure white. For once, she seemed at a loss for words. She stormed back up the stairs, tossing her beautiful shiny hair behind her before turning into a blizzard halfway up and disappearing. To me, it was still beautiful. 

  "Be careful," Zethes warned. "She never forgets and insult."

  Cal grunted in agreement. "Bad sister."

  I couldn't see what was so bad about her. How could someone so pretty be bad? 

  "She's the goddess of snow. What's she going to, throw snowballs at us?" Jason said. 

  I looked, devastated, at the stairs where she had left. "What happened up there? You made her mad? Is she mad at me, too? Guys, that was my prom date!"

  "We'll explain later," Piper promised. 

  Benjamin shifted from foot to foot, and shivered. I had got the impression that he didn't like the cold. I looked over, and saw the stony expression had taken it's space back on Benjamin's face He had folded his hands under his arms in an effort to stay warmer but it was still so cold his breath was visible. 

  I looked back at my friends. Jason looked away from Piper. "Yeah," he agreed. "we'll explain later."

  "Be careful, pretty girl," Zethes said. "The winds between here and Chicago are bad-tempered. Many other evil things are stirring. I am sorry you will not be staying. You would make a lovely ice statue in which I could check my reflection"

  "Thanks. But I'd sooner play hockey with Cal," she responded. 

  "Hockey?" Cal's eyes lit up. 

  "Joking," she said quickly. "And the storm spirits aren't our worst problem, are they?"

  "Oh, no," Zethes agreed. "Something else. Something worse."

  "Worse," Cal echoed. 

  "Can you tell me?" Piper gave them a smile. 

  This time her charm didn't work. The purple-winged Boreads shook their heads in unison. The hangar doors opened onto a freezing starry night, and Festus the dragon stomped his feet, eager to fly. 

  "Ask Aeolus what is worse," Zethes said darkly. "He knows. Good luck."

  He almost sounded like he cared what happened to us, even though a few minutes ago he'd wanted to turn Piper into an ice sculpture. 

  Cal patted Benjamin and I on our shoulders. Benjamin visible tensed up, looking wildly uncomfortable at the sudden touch. "Don't get destroyed. Next time -- hockey. Pizza."

  I had spent a bit watching hockey with Cal after Benjamin had fallen asleep again. It was pretty fun, actually. I did have to watch out for stray limbs. Cal caught my arm a couple times, which would probably bruise. 

  "Come on, guys," Jason stared out at the dark. "Let's go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed."

prev chapter • series m.list • next chapter

[loveisnotovertae]

Love is Not Over

✏️Taehyung x OFC ✏️Friends to Lover AU 🛑 Rated 18+ 📖WC:1964 ⚠️Mentally abusive and controlling ex, stalking, mention of anxiety cheating, COVID, drinking, drunk hookup, masturbation, oral, accidental marriage, accidental pregnancy⚠️

Mae always wanted to go to South Korea and visit all the places her Aunt and Uncle used to tell her stories about. So after catching her fiancè cheating, she did just that. Her two month trip turned into a permanent stay thanks to covid lockdown. A friendly neighbor turned best friend, who just so happened to be part of the biggest music group in the world. A drunken night that changed her life forever.

Chapter 14

Mae looked at the man sleeping in the bed beside her. The man who, even with a busy schedule, came over in the middle of the night to take care of her. The man who she accidentally married. The man whose arms she fell asleep in last night. The man who, despite her best efforts, had found his way into her heart.

The night she left Tyler, Mae decided to give up on love. It had hurt her once already and she never wanted to feel like that again.

But the moment Kim Taehyung walked into her life everything changed. He unknowingly had control over her mind, body and soul. No matter how high she built her walls, he found a way around them. No matter how many times she tried lying to herself, she’d fallen for him.

The past couple of weeks may have been stressful and scary, but just the sound of his voice made her forget about it all. She didn’t realize it until just a few minutes ago when Kimberleigh came to wake them up for lunch. Her sleep was peaceful and relaxing, just like it was when they slept in the same bed while in Jeju. Even after a night of drinking she felt the best she had in a long time.

The thought of falling in love again scared her. Was she in love with Taehyung? No, well, at least not yet anyways.

She could hear his and Jimin’s mothers in her head. Telling her once again that their marriage happened for a reason. Maybe it was a sign for her to finally break free, or her Aunt and Uncle’s spirits, pushing her to have some fun in life and take some risks.

“If this was your two’s doing, the least you could do is send me a sign,” she said to herself.

She laid there silently for a moment and waited. Just as she was about to give up, Taehyung put his arm around her waist and pulled her face first to his chest.

“Are you done staring at me yet?” he asked.

“How long have you been awake?” She tilted her head the best she could to look at him.

“Long enough for you to ask for a sign.” Taehyung opened one eye and looked at her. “Who were you talking to?”

“Noone,” she answered, face turning red from embarrassment.

“I don’t mean to sound like an asshole. But could you possibly get out of bed, get dressed and leave the room?” Taehyung removed his arm from her waist, allowing her to scoot away.

Mae scrunched her brows and looked at him, “It’s my fucking room. You leave first.”

Taehyung cleared his throat. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Mae said, sitting up against the headboard.

“I…how do I put this without it sounding bad?” Taehyung sighed and rubbed his face. “I am a man…and sometimes when men first wake up…”

“Oh!” Mae watched his hand gestures while he tried to figure out what to say. “Taeconda has risen.”

“What?” Taehyung, shocked by what she’d just said, looked at her in amusement.

“I’ll go use the restroom and change in the closet while the two of you sort yourselves out.” She patted him on the shoulder, before getting out of bed.

“Aren’t you going to cover yourself up like you did last night?” he asked, watching her walk to the bathroom.

“Nope. It’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra and it won't be the last.”

The moment Mae closed the door she placed her hands on the counter and took a deep breath.

“The two of you better not be sending me mixed signals.” She looked up at the ceiling and whispered. “Because this is going to be fun yet extremely challenging for me.”

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Mae was the first one downstairs, exiting the closet through the door that led to her room. She grabbed her things and laughed when she heard Taehyung in the bathroom. She couldn’t understand any of the muffled words, but judging by his tone and how fast he was talking there was definitely cursing involved.

She yelled to him from the doorway that she was leaving before shutting her door.

Once she’d finally gotten to the kitchen she was met with three pairs of curious eyes.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Veronica said from her seat at the table. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, arching a curious brow at her.

“The sleep was good.” Mae replied, joining them at the table.

“Will Prince Charming be joining us or did you leave him tied up?”

“He’s not tied up, Ant.” Mae answered, putting some food on her plate.

“Such a shame.” Veronica sighed.

“I couldn’t find any rope so I used the handcuffs instead.” Mae said quickly before taking a bite of food.

The sound of her three friends choking on their coffees almost made her do the same on the food as she tried not to laugh.

“Oh, she’s a feisty one this afternoon.” D placed her face in her hands and smiled at Mae.

“She is, isn't she?” Kimberleigh added doing the same. “Maybe the two of them should sleep shirtless together more often, if she’s going to wake up in this good of a mood.”

“You were shirtless!” Veronica yelled, making the other three women jump at her outburst.

“Yes, we were.” Three of the women looked up to see a freshly showered, wet-haired Taehyung walking toward them. “You should’ve seen her. The moment you left the room she went crazy. She took off her shirt. I told her she couldn’t do that, it wasn’t decent. Then while I was trying to cover her up she pinned me down and ripped mine off.”

Mae laughed when she saw the look of shock on Veronica’s face. “Don’t fucking lie to her like that. You’ll give the poor woman a heart attack.” She turned her head to look at Taehyung when he sat down beside her. “Is that…is that my cardigan?”

“Yes, it is. I didn’t realize until after I got out of the shower that I didn’t grab one last night. You weren’t in the room so I just went into your closet and grabbed one. I hope you don’t mind. You did after all tear my other one to shreds.” he answered, sending her a playful smile and wink.

“You went in her closet? Alone?” D asked with wide eyes.

“You are a brave, brave man.” Kimberleigh mumbles into her coffee cup.

“Why? It’s just a closet.” Taehyung looked at the women in confusion.

“It is just a closet. But you open the wrong drawer and your image of innocent Mae will come crumbling down quickly.”

“One,” Mae looked at Kimberleigh and held up a finger. “I don’t keep those in my closet. They would be too far away in there. Two,” she held up a second finger and turned back to Taehyung. “How do I say this without it sounding bad..” she smiled using the same line he’d used earlier. “I am a woman, Tae. A woman who has needs, and sometimes I have to take care of those by myself.”

The four women watched Taehyung’s reaction while he registered what Mae was saying. They were amused as the confused look slowly faded and a mischievous grin took over.

He turned to look at Mae, “Tell me, do you use these secret objects after you’ve dreamt of me?”

“The ones up in my room? No, I haven’t used them in years and I need to throw them away. The ones back in Korea however…”

Mae trailed off, turned back to her plate and ate her food to hide her smile. She wasn’t sure what she found more entertaining, the look of shock and disbelief on her friends' faces, or the mixture of amusement and shock that Taehyung had on his.

“So, um Tae,” D cleared her throat, “Are you excited for the concert tomorrow?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, very excited and a little nervous too. It’s the first in-person concert we’ve been able to have in almost three years.” he answered before taking a bite of food. “Are you ladies coming?”

“We are.” D said, taking her plate to the sink. “There’s no way in hell we’d pass up a chance to watch y’all perform live.”

“You mean I’m going to be home by myself?” Mae pouted.

“You’re cute when you’re being all pouty.” Kimberleigh patted Mae on the head when she walked past her. “Did you really think we’d let you stay home and miss your husband’s concert?”

“You got me a ticket?”

“Of course we did, Giant. Well actually Namjoon got you one.”

Mae looked over to Taehyung, “Did you know about this?”

“No, no I did not.”

“The night you arrived we were talking about the concert, while we got the food ready. Kimberleigh was telling them about how we’d gotten tickets and one of the suites for both shows. We didn’t want to leave you home by yourself, but we also didn’t want to miss the show.”

“As much as I would enjoy having Mae there, do you really think it’s a good idea?” Taehyung sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“You don’t want me at your concert?” Mae looked him up and down. “That’s fucked up, even if we weren’t married.” she said, picking up her dirty dishes and taking them to the sink.

“That’s not what I meant, Mae.”

“He’s just worried about your safety,” Veronica rolled her eyes. “We all are. But you don’t have to worry, Prince Charming. The suite is private, not just anyone can enter. Namjoon’s already talked with security and there will be a couple of guards with us. If she wants to, she can stay inside and watch the concert or she can join us on the balcony in the private seating area.”

Taehyung smiled, “Sounds like you guys have it all planned out. If Mae’s comfortable, I for one, would love to have her there and I know the other guys would too. If not, then she can stay here or in my hotel room. I’ll make sure she has security at either place; that way you guys don’t have to miss the show.”

Mae looked at the four other people who stood in the kitchen with her. The thought of being at the concert gave her mixed feelings. On one hand, she was nervous because she didn’t know how anyone would react if they noticed her. But then on the other hand, she’d be in a private area where she wouldn’t be seen by a lot of people and she’d always wanted to see the guys perform live.

“I’ll go,” she stated, nodding her head. “If there’s any problem, I’ll have the girls and security with me. So, you and the guys don’t need to worry,” she said, looking at Taehyung.

Taehyung smiled, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to see you guys perform live.”

“Good,” Taehyung looked at his phone. “I have to go, my car is here. The next couple of days are going to be crazy.”

Mae could see the worried look in Taehyung’s eyes. “I’ll be fine, Tae. I won’t leave the house except for the concert. Evidently they,” she nodded to her three best friends, “have the head of your security on speed dial if anything happens.”

“She jokes about it but it's true.” Kimberleigh held up her phone for the two of them to see.

Taehyung and Mae both snorted out a laugh when they saw the contact.

“Bat Signal?”

“What else would we use to urgently get a message to a handsome man in a suit?”

[lulue-xie]

Start to write this but im into stress time rn and dont know if i will make something of it

Of course the aim of it, it to turn it into my ship later

Anyways

Jounouchi was driving that night, going back from a late meeting when he saw something lying down on the road, looking a lot like a human form.

"Is that a human ?" He frowned, suspicious.

Alerted he stopped his motorbike to go to see the person and what a surprise.

"Wait !? Isn't that … Kaiba ?" Pulling the man on his back to look at him better, the man was on the missing list for like 5 years now ! Everyone thought he was dead at this point but here we go, between all the humans in this city, it's him that found him out of nowhere ! Unconscious on the road, what a joke !

Kaiba was wearing his blue and black space suit with a headpiece and his duel disk but both looked worn out, like they were in a centrifuge.

Jounouchi called an ambulance after he made sure Kaiba was breathing and not dead already and then he called Mokuba, the young man was the new CEO of Kaiba Corps and they have been in touch since Jounouchi started to be a pro duelist.

"Hey Mokuba ? Hm i'm sorry i know it's late to call but … " he hesitated an instant looking at the brunette on the floor "seen like I found your brother" he rubbed his neck.

"What are you saying Jounouchi ? Aren't you drunk ?" He says with a tired voice, he can't believe the older man.

"No, no listen ! It's Kaiba ! I swear !" he can ear the ambulance coming "the ambulance is coming, i will call you back"

*** 

He opened his eyes and shut them just as fast, the white around him was too much.

He didn't know where he was, didn't recall a single thing to be true, did he quit the afterlife ? It was so hard to reach it but it was so much difficult to stay here where living doesn't have rights, he thought that dueling Atem could be just a question of hours.

The sound around finally reached his ears, the slow sound of his battling heart on the monitor and the far away voices of people walking on the corridor, he was sure now, he was back to the present life.

He tried to open his eyes a second time, feeling less dazzled but it takes some seconds to get used to it, he was staring at the white ceiling and the smell of medicine came to his nose, he was at the hospital.

He sight before turning his head to see someone asleep in the chair at the right of his bed, Mokuba, he didn't remember his little brother has grown so much before he was gone, his hair was shorter too and he looked tired, as tired as him when he was at the head of Kaiba Corps, he let everything in his brother hands but seeing his brother here make him regret it in a way.

The door opened and he was ready to see anybody except Jounouchi, the blond had his hands full with some coffees cups and he put it on the tiny table before he noticed Kaiba staring at him.

" Oh look who is awake" he smiled at him and he was feeling strange, maybe that's what being back in life again feels like.

"What are you doing here ? What happened ?" He feels like talking takes all his energy, he has to take a break to breathe, his voice feels raspy.

"That ok Kaiba, I found you unconscious on the road and Mokuba wanted me to stay" while saying that he woke up the teen boy who almost jumped out of his seat when he saw him awake.

"Oh brother you are up! Who are you feeling !?"

"Feeling like a bus rolled over me but that's ok i guess" putting his hand on the bridge of his nose to pinch it, feeling a headache coming and he looked at his brother, confused "How many times I am gone ? You look …"

"Older ?" Say mokuba with an awkward smile, nervous.

"Yes, older …"

" Seto it's been 5 years, seriously I really start to think you will never go back" he admitted with a little voice, hope to see him again was a tight line in his head before today.

Kaiba's stomach twisted at this reveal, he can't even imagine because it didn't feel like 5 years for him, it felt more like two weeks or so, guess the time span was different between the two worlds.

He had to go back to look at the ceiling for some second to swallow the pill, 5 years was a lot of time.

[gothlcsan]

How To Summon a Demon

demon!felix x bang chan

genre: smut 18+ !

synopsis: Demon Felix who hides in the shadows underneath Chan’s bed. Thinking Chan seemed seemingly innocent, easy to corrupt, that is before Felix hears the filthy videos Chan watches before bed.

word count: 3k +

warnings: demons, tentacles, cnc, dubious consent, face slapping, biting, choking, angst, degrading, college.

Cross Posted on AO3

© gothlcsan 2023. All rights reserved.

Felix lays quietly underneath Chan, listening to the boy shuffle on top of him, the mattress creaking as Chan rolls over. Quietness fills the tiny room as the hours pass along. Felix crawled out from under the bed and poked his head up to see what Chan was doing, eyes rolling in annoyance as he saw the sleeping boy. He was hoping for something exciting but this meant he’d just have to wait another night, sulking into the shadows with a pout.

Days go by the same, Felix lying awake under Chan’s bed or sitting in the closet, watching the boy sleep, waiting for the day the boy notices him or asks for a service. He's aware how deeply infatuated with the human he was who didn’t know of his existence, that didn’t stop him though.

Felix flinches when he hears the front door of the apartment slam shut, Chan’s bedroom door flinging open with Chan barging in. He looks frustrated, an irritated expression on his face as he drops his bags by the door and falls into bed. Felix watches with amusement as Chan grabs a pillow, screaming into it before throwing it across the room once satisfied. Chan huffs cutely with his bottom lip poking out into a pout, looking to face the alarm clock next to his bed.

12:45 am

He wanted to sleep, irritated from the stressful day at class, but simply couldn’t relax. Laying down staring at the ceiling for a while, Chan sighs, getting up to strip off his clothes, kicking them under the bed, slipping back under the covers to hide away from the world. Felix greedily snatching the discarded clothes, bathing in Chan’s scent. above him, Chan is turning on his phone chewing his bottom lip in concentration as he scrolls through his phone, cheeks redding as he falls into a twitter thread about what he learned to be ‘monster fucking.’ He can’t help but blush becoming aware at how much he likes the demon content, whining as he accidentally brushes up against the mattress when he rolls over onto his side.

Felix silently crawls from under the bed, moving to get a better look, eyes widening as he watches the scene unfold before him. Chan’s body shakes as he forgets his phone, legs tangled in the sheets with his fingers slipping into his mouth. Felix moves to sit quietly perched on top of Chan’s mirror, licking his lips as he continues to watch Chan. He's memorized by the situation, watching his every movement intensely.

Chan moans as he takes his saliva covered fingers and slips them into his hole, shoving his other hand into his mouth without missing a beat. Yet, he’s annoyed, wanting to be full, irritated that his fingers didn’t reach far enough as he’d like them to, wishing he had a set of tentacles to play with him as they wished.

Felix’s ears twitch, smirking. Finally, the human showed his dark desires, meaning Felix could do as he pleased. He jumps down from the mirror, walking slowly back to the side of Chan’s bed, snapping his fingers allowing himself to be seen by the human, who shrieked as he looked up to see someone by the side of his bed.

“Get out, get out now before I call the police!”

Laughing, Felix sits on the side of the bed and looks down at Chan with a smile. He watches as Chan flinches from the hand caressing his cheek, Felix’s cold fingers sending shivers throughout his body. Chan’s body stiffens as Felix speaks to him, not expecting the deep voice that came from him.

“You asked for a set of tentacles to play with you yet this is how you treat me, have you no manners,” Felix questions while he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, moving off from the bed. Chan stares at him in disbelief as he tries to muster up any courage he could find, swinging at Felix who easily dodged the fist with a laugh.

“Oh you mortals, make me laugh, did you just try to hit a demon?”

Felix moves now standing at the foot of the bed glaring at Chan, who was pathetically cowering in the corner of the bed. Chan begs him to leave him alone, to leave entirely but Felix ignores him nonetheless watching as Chan pleads fade away once he catches sight of the tentacles behind Felix’s back. The cool coils snake up the bed and wrap around Chan’s legs, pulling him closer to Felix. Their faces meet as the tentacle wrapped around Chan’s throat brings him up, the demon using another to swipe the hair off the boy’s face, leaving Chan shivering in disgust and excitement.

Chan was aware that he was no match for the demon, becoming docile and obedient, melting in the cool touch of the tentacles wrapping around his exposed limbs. Being lifted off the bed, Chan floats horizontally midair, watching as Felix walks in circles around him, sizing him up with curiosity.

“Do you know how long I've waited for this moment, hm? The hours I'd spend waiting for you to call out for me, years I spent listening to you from the darkest shadows waiting for my turn to finally get a hold of you.”

Chan shivers at the demon’s voice, the tightening grip on him from the tentacles making his body ache in the most satisfying way he could ever imagine. He was scared at the fact he was slipping mentally and the tentacle wrapping itself around his leaking cock was the final snap from reality, Chan sniffling and begging the demon to use him up.

Felix sits in the chair he brought from Chan’s desk, sitting in front of the bed, watching as Chan cries, shaking from the tentacles attacking his body. Chan’s pretty little cock flushing a dark red as a tentacle wraps itself around his waist, snaking up to find refuge in the pretty boy’s throat. Chan gags at the grossly wet sensation running down his throat, eyes watering from gagging. The tentacle thrusting rhythmically in Chan’s throat, his pretty eyes rolling back into his head as he lost all will to fight.

Unexpectedly, Felix drops Chan and retracts his tentacles, standing up to lean over the boy gasping for air. He pats the side of Chan’s face before pulling him up by the hair, forcing the shaking mortal to keep eye contact.

“You’re nothing more than a whore, you know?”

Chan doesn’t answer, crying in pain as Felix digs his fingers into his scalp, repeating the question.

“I know, I know, please stop. I know.”

Felix smiles contentedly at Chan as he nods, undoing his belt.

“I'm glad we could come to an agreement. Let this be a token to show my appreciation, I promise I won't go too hard.”

Felix aligns his cock against Chan’s hole, the slick from the tentacles proving to be a great lube, pushing inside as he slips a single tentacle back into the boy’s throat. He matches rhythm between the two, groaning as Chan’s holes suck him up easily, yet still tight enough where he had to hold himself back from cumming too early. He grabs one of Chan’s legs to hook over his shoulder, biting the soft flesh, making the boy thrash underneath him. Felix just simply pins him down with other tentacles, fucking him merciouslly as he bites and sucks any skin he could reach with his mouth.

“You look so cute being fucked by me, the demon’s pretty human cock sleeve. Don’t worry, baby, I won't kill you, not yet at least.”

Chan cries as Felix leans forward to fuck him deeper, tentacles deep in his throat, pumping his cock, others trying to find any hole to slip into. He was so close, a mess of his own precum and the slick of various tentacles, begging in his head that Felix would let him cum soon.

All he could see were stars, eyesight blurring as he screamed around Felix, a tentacle finding its way alongside Felix’s cock, reaching deeper than he could’ve ever imagined. The sensation made him weak, staring down at the growing bulge in his stomach, shaking his head as Felix tells him to lay back.

Felix removes the tentacles from his mouth giving a firm slap against the cheek, causing Chan to fall back against the pillows. No longer silenced, Chan’s screaming and begs to cum, claiming the sensation was all too much for him to bear any longer. Trembling as he rests his weight on his elbows, watching as he’s stretched out, belly full of tentacles and being sounded by another. Chan begs to cum, the tentacle preventing this being deep into his cock, Felix devouring him from the inside out.

“Hold it a little more, okay, don’t you fucking dare cum until I tell you to,” Felix snarled as he quickens his thrusts, his breathing becoming rushed as he ruins Chan completely.

Chan cries out as tentacles wrap themselves around his body, flicking and squeezing his hardened nipples. His body is beyond sensitive, sending him into a frenzy of moans and cries of pleasure, begging to be spared of the torture Felix was giving him. He’s silenced by a tentacle wrapping tight around his head, covering his mouth making his eyes water. Chan tries to move, shaking as he feels Felix’s legs shutter as he cums into Chan’s abused hole, panting heavily once he moves to let his tentacles finish Chan, controlling the tentacle that was blocking Chan’s release to stroke him fast. The sound of wet squelches as the tentacles worked to make Chan cum, pushing Felix’s cum back deep into Chan (not that the human minded any).

Chan cums as Felix demands him to, shaking violently when the tentacles leave his body, his pretty hole gaping and dripping cum. Felix walks to him, placing a soft kiss against the hair matted against his forehead, sweat covering his entire body. He lays on his stomach, spreading Chan out before delving his head down to lick the boy clean, pausing to look up and smile at Chan’s worn out face.

“You’re mine now, you got that?”

Chan can only smile, eyes hazy and half shut, fucked out of oblivion.

He was more than happy to be the demon’s whore.

That he was.

Being fucked until near death every time Felix showed up at night, thanking the deepest pits of hell for allowing this to happen.

—— ꕥ ——

Chan stares up at Felix, tracing the markings across his neck and chest, listening to him speak. They spent their nights quietly these days, Chan attending the last year of college, the two being too scared to bring up the question; what will they do once Chan graduates?

“Chan?”

“Chan, did you hear me?”

Chan snaps out of his trance, focusing on the demon’s pouty expression, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I spaced out.”

Felix exhales, shaking his head with a smile, caressing Chan’s face, squishing his cheeks together before leaning down to kiss his lips.

“Yeah I figured as much, we should really talk about it, Chan. We can’t keep ignoring it.”

Chan’s smile fades as he looks away from Felix, sitting up with his head hanging down. He didn’t want to talk about it, figuring that if he ignored it, it would simply never happen. He feels as Felix rubs his back, turning to face the demon with tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“Why did you make me fall in love with you, Felix? I don't want to leave you here.”

Felix frowns as he drops his hand off Chan’s back and climbs off the bed, moving to stand in front of him, arms crossed.

“You really think I'd let you leave so easily, did you forget the things I said to you when we first met?”

Chan sniffles, shaking his head as Felix paces back and forth, explaining what they could do, Felix flinching to a stop as Chan yells at him to shut up. Felix clenches his jaw, turning around on his heel, shaking his head with a laugh of disbelief. He leans over Chan, feeling the headboard crack under the grip of his hand.

“I don’t know where this sudden burst of disrespect came from but i’d watch your mouth from here on out unless you want me to stop you from ever speaking again.”

Chan explodes on Felix, pushing him backwards, beating a fist against his chest, screaming for him to stop talking and leave. Continuing to scream that he hated him, how this was all his fault for tempting him with his stupid demon tricks. Felix lets him continue, watching with a look of pity on his face, before grabbing Chan’s wrist in his hand, pinning him against the wall.

“Are you done,” Felix questions as he turns Chan around to face him, brushing the hair out of his face, swiping his thumb over Chan’s soft lips. Chan only nods, sniffling as he catches his breath trying to calm himself down. Felix leans down and kisses Chan, the kiss is hot and suffocating, Chan melting at the metallic taste left in his mouth. He was stupidly addicted to this demon and even if he tried to deny it, he really wouldn’t want it any other way. Jumping into Felix’s arms, legs hooked around his waist as he kisses back eagerly. They fumble around the small room, crashing against the vanity, Chan’s back pressed against the cool surface of the mirror, Felix pulling back with a smirk.

“You kiss me really well for hating me so much.”

Chan mumbles a faint ‘shut up’ blushing as he brings Felix back into a kiss, moaning against his lips as Felix touches him softly above his shorts. They let it come naturally, Chan moaning loudly with a hand tangled in Felix’s hair, the demon’s snake-like tongue wrapped around his cock so nicely. He babbles at how good it feels when Felix’s fangs pierce his thighs, shivering as his tongue laps up the mess, sucking his energy slowly.

“Please, please,” Chan begs as he hooks his legs around Felix’s shoulders, bringing him closer. The demon chuckles in amusement, pushing himself up to kiss Chan, speaking through kisses.

“Please what, Channie,” Felix questions, pretending to not know exactly what he was begging for, watching the human’s expression soften and blush red as he moves clumsily; turning to face the mirror watching Felix in the reflection, blushing harder as he spreads himself open for Felix to see, pouting.

“Please fill me up, I miss you.”

“As you wish, my dear.”

Felix pins Chan against the vanity, spreading his legs far apart, tentacles snaking out from behind. He smirks as Chan shivers under his hold as one rubs alongside his exposed hole, slicking the area up nicely for Felix. The demon loved the way his erotic boyfriend begged to be fucked, face pressed harshly against the mirror for all the other demon’s to watch, Chan cries being heard by everyone through the thin walls. Keeping Chan’s pretty face pressed against the mirror, Felix bottoms out, groaning at how easily Chan takes him, adjusting his position till he starts quickening his thrusts. Chan whimpers happily, eyes rolling back as he feels a tentacle wrap itself around his dripping cock, jerking him off in time of Felix’s sloppy thrusts, begging him to go faster; harder. Felix bites Chan’s shoulder roughly, his fangs digging into the soft flesh, whispering how filthy he was being fucked like a whore, squeezing the head of his cock. Chan gasps, nodding as he looks at Felix through the mirror, pathetically wanting to cum already when they barely started. The words must’ve escaped from Chan’s lips, the demon tightening his hold on Chan bringing him flush against his chest, Felix now deep into his belly causing him to moan.

He lets himself be manhandled and thrown around like a rag doll, Felix using him like a fleshlight, hole dripping with slick. Wet squelches and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Chan drools, sweetly thanking Felix as he pumps his cock, head thrown back in pleasure. Chan looked insane being surrounded by tentacles, body in midair as he’s fucked back down onto Felix’s cock, no longer considered as a human being but a fleshlight for Felix to abuse until he came.

Felix laughs as he feels Chan go limp, body shaking and twitching from the overstimulation, removing a few tentacles and wrapping them slowly around Chan’s frail body, one positioned ideally around the boy’s exposed throat adding pressure slowly.

“I told you I'd figure it out, baby. Now be a good boy as I finish up.”

It's days before Chan wakes up, stretching and opening his eyes, jumping as he’s tackled by an overly excited Felix.

“Good evening, my love, you’ve finally arisen!”

Chan chuckles asking for the time assuming he must’ve fallen asleep after the intense session, not exactly sure why Felix was avoiding eye contact and pointing at the mirror instead of telling him the time. Leaning Chan looks over and gasps, pushing Felix off and running straight to the mirror, his body covered in the same marks as Felix’s. His fingertips blacked and fangs adorned his mouth, he slowly turned to face Felix, pointing at his teeth.

“You did this,” he shouts, frantically trying to pull them out.

Felix apologizes frantically, as Chan walks up to him, slapping him harshly across the face. Taking a second he sighs, nodding before reaching down to kiss the handprint left by himself, ruffling Felix’s hair.

“Does this mean I can fuck you with my tentacles now?”

“For fucks sake, get - ow, off me.”

It's safe to say that Felix learned his lesson that night, the two demon lovers finding their happiness in the end.

[armpirate]

UNDER YOUR SKIN || JJK || Ch. 9

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I woke up a few times tonight, and not for the right reasons. Jungkook kept moving by my side, pulling the sheets to him every single time he rolled on the bed. Not to mention the snores, it was as if I had an English bulldog breathing right next to my ear. I begged him to shut up, I kicked him under the covers, but he didn't even flinch when I hit him with the pillow on the face. I tried my best to turn on my right and focus on falling asleep, until a loud knock sounded and the snores suddenly disappeared. 

I turned around concerned, leaning up just to find him getting up from the floor and going back to bed with his eyes still closed.

—Why did you do that? —he mumbled with a whine.

I'm left there, looking at him with shock when he threw himself on his side of the bed, and in a matter of seconds, he was snoring again.

That's how I knew why nobody wanted to sleep with him, and were fast on picking a rommate.

And now that I'm waking up with painful and burning eyelids, and my body feeling heavier than ever, I confirm he's a pain in the ass even when he's asleep. My head also rewinds to hours back, when we were both wide awake and conscious when I joined him in the bed. And how I allowed him to touch me that way. My eyes are lost in the ceiling while I think about it, and how thankful I am that he's not here right now and waking up by myself.

The new question is: How will I dare to look at him with a straight face after what happened?

Although that question remains answerless when I go downstairs and he's not here. Only Melanie, Soo and Tammy are here. They look at one another with a smile as soon as they're aware of my presence, and they look back to me. I see nothing good coming.

—Did you sleep well? —Soo asks when I get closer to the kitchen table.

—Uhh —I nod—, I guess.

I rather not give out way too much information, and just let them ask whatever they might be curious about. I highly doubt Jungkook rolled his tongue and told everybody what happened last night. It's better, for the both of us, to keep that moment to ourselves and bury it in a dark place, two meters underground.

—Did something happen last night? —Melanie arches her eyebrows, while she waits for a juicy answer.

—No.

It's right now that I'm thankful of my strict parents who taught me, indirectly, how to lie properly when you're being interrogated. Short answers are the key for ambiguous questions that could get me in trouble.

—But... —Tammy continues—. I saw you talking with him.

That makes me frown again, because I don't remember crossing any type of word or sound with Jungkook last night, not in front of everybody. And I highly doubt they were able to listen to that conversation we had while lying in bed. Or maybe, they did hear us and that's why this interrogation is going on. 

—You were staring at each other almost all night —Soo pinches my arm playfully.

That makes more sense now. Every single time my eyes went from Seokwoo to the group of friends, my gaze found his, and we'd try to keep the visual contact until I broke it up every single time. Anyway, I keep myself together and give a small sip to the orange juice Melanie has just served me.

—C'mon, it was obvious you were drooling for Seokwoo —Tammy insists—. And he told us this morning he thought you were cute.

I try to digest everything my friends have said. First, I sigh in relief when I'm finally able to confirm they weren't talking about Jungkook nor anything that happened after the party. And then I look at them surprised, unbelieving of what they've said. But yeah, even if he had said he thought I was cute, it means nothing. Actually "You're cute, but..." is something I'm done listening to every single time they're about to reject me. Somebody calling you cute or adorable is just an introduction of the kick-ass they're about to give you.

The conversation switches topics quite fast, when Melanie starts talking about one of her clients and the case she's working on. I'm honest, and I admit I paid no attention with whatever they were talking about right now.

Morning goes on, and it's not like it's any different to how it was three hours ago. All the boys come back after walking around the place, and convince us to do the same and take a walk near the lake. 

And honestly, I'm thankful to have pushed my doubts aside and join them on this trip. Not only because I love how beautiful this place is, but because I ended up meeting a lot of new people I get on well with. Tammy was right when she said meeting new people does make you feel good with yourself.

More than once I find myself looking for Jungkook, and I don't really understand why. After what happened last night, I should be avoiding him and be grateful he's nowhere around me right now. Contrary to what happened yesterday, my eyes meet with Seokwoo's more than once. And he dedicates a tiny smile, before he moves his eyes away and goes back to the conversation he's having with Namjoon. Although it doesn't really have an effect on me, and I'm wondering if it should have. 

For some reason, my head keeps being busy thinking about Jungkook. I try to convince myself I don't care about where he is, and I don't care. But I can't help but ask myself if he might be avoiding me after what he said. Maybe he was drunk, maybe it was the heat of the moment and now he's feeling weirded out about it. Whatever it is, I'm sure he regrets it enough to sneak out of the room earlier and leave as soon as Melanie, Tammy, Soo and I decided to join the boys' plan.

Our hide and seek game doesn't last much anyway. We meet again at lunch time, when we all are sitting on the big table to eat. And, while we're both placed as far from each other as possible, I feel his eyes drilling my temple. Not the staring contest again. I know I'm not in the mood for that, so I try as much as possible not lifting my eyes from the plate -or, at least, not turning my head to the left. I know if my eyes connect with his, I won't be able to keep the staring. And moving my glance away -whether it's because I feel intimidated, or annoyed- is giving him a victory for free.

Shortly after that, we decide it's time to go back home -since most of us are working the day after. Unlike when we arrived, Soo and Mark leave with Steve and Carl, Seokwoo leaves with Namjoon, Hobi and Yoongi (seems like they got on pretty well last night), and I'm left with Tammy, Melanie and Jungkook. 

I should've hopped on Steve's car. It's my fault though. That's what happens when you wait for the only person you know to pick a car.

I try to keep the focus on the landscape. Honestly, I attempt hard to keep my eyes everywhere but the front. If I thought the trip yesterday was long, coming back home will be eternal.

✸ ✸ ✸

We all look at him confused when he drives to Tammy's home first. Mine was closer from the highway, and it'd have made sense for it to be the first stop -that's exactly why they picked me up last yesterday. But Jungkook finds an excuse fast, saying he has something to do near my neighborhood. The next one to hop off is Melanie, saying goodbye with a big smile and thanking us for having such a good time on her birthday. She sets her eyes on me, giving me a hug and wishing I join them again, whenever they decide to hang out again. 

—Will you pull a Miss Daisy or will you move to the front?

I roll my eyes, getting out of the car just to sit next to him in the front. And, as soon as I buckle up, he starts the car again, driving a route I already know. It's exactly the same one we took when we brought Melanie everything we bought for her birthday.

Surprisingly, the silence surrounding us today is more uncomfortable than the one we had to go through last week. I feel forced to open my mouth, maybe tell him to leave me here and let me walk the rest of the way back home, but Jungkook interrupts my breathing, speaking first while he gives me one fast look.

—Did you think about what I told you? 

I swallow my spit hard, almost choking myself with it when he lets out the question I never thought he'd ask. He does remember, and doesn't seem like he regrets asking it.

—No —I lie.

I thought about it, but not on the answer, or what I thought about it. Ironically, my full focus was on what he really thought about it and how he was feeling that night, after asking that.

He chuckles, and tilts his head. That deep laugh attracts my eyes instantly, and god, doesn't he look good as fuck right now. His left hand holds the wheel, while the tattooed fingers of his right hand rest on the gear.

I was chill in the backseat, why did he make me move?

—You didn't think about it because you didn't like it or because you don't want to do it? —he asks without looking at me.

—I'm not really sure of what you want to do —i squint—. And I'm sure there must be a trap somewhere.

The car stops suddenly. And when I look to my right, I see the same poor, old and neglected building I've been living in for the past seven years. My eyes go back to him instantly, and I find Jungkook waiting calmly to get my eyes back to him before he goes on:

—I told you —he shrugs—: no trap.

—And you only get "me" out of all of this? —I'm feeling tempted to laugh right on his face— You don't even like me.

And now is when Jungkook tilts his head again, smiling big and showing all of his teeth.

—I don't think I ever said I don't like you —he bends over a little, just centimeters away from me—. Did I?

I swallow hard again. What?

—There's something about you... it caught my attention —he shrugs before he moves back again—. I know you're too difficult to win you the way I would, and the way we started will only make it harder. This is the easy route: we both win. I will teach you everything you need to know and help you be more comfortable, and I'll be able to cross you out of my pending list.

I could've punched him as soon as he said that, and I'm way too tempted to do it. But, I'd be lying if I said I don't agree with him. He got my attention the very first day, and we both were to blame by how the situation unfolded. Neither of us can deny the attraction. I dislike his guts, but he makes me feel small and empowered, at the same time, whenever my eyes meet his. 

It's complicated. Jungkook is complicated.

Like he said, it's just a deal. And it's the perfect excuse to be able to give in to my deeper thoughts, without feeling like I'm disappointing myself. Well, "fake excuse". But it works for me right now.

—If we do it, we need to set some rules.

Jungkook nods, most probably he already thought about that or was expecting me to come up with something at some point.

[blueeandyellowmakesgreen]

apocalypse byler scenario part 11 but not really byler but heavily implied: mike and nancy talk.

this is a running continuation of my apocalypse scenarios, and this takes place after mike opens up to lucas about getting vecna’d.

after lucas talks in behalf of mike, everyone started to swarm him with worry. in the end, all of them ended up apologizing for not noticing earlier, and even asked about his trauma so they can help.

though mike noticed that nancy wasnt saying anything, and didnt even approach him like the others did. he wanted to think that maybe she was taken aback by the news, not making eye contact with mike or lucas, but mike isnt sure anymore because he doesnt even know his goddamn sister. mike expected this, honestly, he didnt know what their relationship was as siblings anymore.

what? why would i care about you? nancy’s voice in his nightmares start to echo in his head. he felt stupid for wanting to try to open up to her for anything, and the visions served as a good reminder anytime he attempted to. he deserves this.

before everyone’s voices start to clash even more, lucas backed them off and told them to give mike time, much to his appreciation.

so imagine that he received his walkman and started to play his favorite song, he’s asked to be left alone because all the sudden attention and concern was overwhelming to him, even will. he goes and closes the door, and throws himself on his bed, staring at his ceiling as somebody to love by queen plays faintly in the quiet ambience of his dark room. he then hears a loud knock which makes him jump.

‘’goddammit, guys, i said leave me alone!’’

‘’mike, could you please open up? its nancy.’’

that was definitely new for mike. ‘’what do you want?’’

‘’we need to talk.’’

‘’can we please just save this for tomorrow?’’

‘’im serious, mike. just please open up.’’

mike groans loud enough to make sure nancy hears it. he gets up from his bed and lazily opens the door as he gets back to lying down, head buried in his hands. nancy awkwardly stands by. she notices the scattered clothes around his bed and the heaps of trash stacked up on the area of his closet and floor. she wraps her arms around herself and turns to mike. ‘’you okay?’’

‘’yeah, why wouldnt i be?’’ mike says through his hands.

‘’mike, we need to talk about this.’’

‘’there’s nothing to talk about.’’

nancy inhales. ‘’look, i’m just wondering.. why you didnt tell me.’’

‘’there wasnt a right time.’’

‘’mike-‘’

‘’you dont have to pretend to care, alright?’’ mike snaps. ‘’i got my walkman, so you can go.’’ 

nancy was about to leave but stays by the doorand turns her head. 

‘’you think i dont care about you?’’

‘’i dont care about what you think of me.’’

nancy walks back to sit next to mike.

‘’i dont think i told you this, but..he got me too.’’

‘’…he did?’’

‘’yeah.’’

she was fully awake mike wasnt asking but she decides to continue. ‘’i saw barbara…and hawkins. it was torn in half. you, mom, dad, holly, everyone…was suffering. and i couldnt do anything. not for barbara, not for anyone.’’

she inhales before resuming. ‘’i see her face everyday. it reminds me of how i was, and i…hated who i was. who i am. i dont think much has changed. i thought i was doing better, but.. shes always there.’’ 

mike says nothing. 

‘’can i ask what you saw?’’ 

mike continues his streak of staying silent, still not feigning eye contact with nancy.

‘’..yeah. i get it.’’ nancy says, her voice cracking a bit. 

nancy breaks the deafening silence between them as she sighs. ‘’mike, can you at least look at me?’’

it took a while, but mike eventually does as he gets up to meet nancy’s gaze.

‘’’im sorry that i wasnt.. there for you.’’

‘’..you had your own shit, nancy. i dont expect you to babysit me.’’ it was tempted for mike to turn away from her again. he felt way too scrutinized at the moment. 

‘’yeah, but look where that turned out. you clearly had a lot in your mind. and.. we both know mom and dad aren’t the easiest people to talk to.’’ 

mike scoffs at that statement, which makes nancy chuckle.

‘’…and youre my brother,’’ nancy feels herself start to choke up. ‘’youre my little brother, and im supposed to take care of you. god it shouldnt take henry to target you for me to realize that,’’ nancy sniffs and wipes a tear of hers. ‘’im so sorry. but im here now, and i promise you, that ill protect you from him.’’ 

mike opens his mouth to say something, but finds himself at a loss. this really was the last thing he expected, and he finds himself choking up, as much as hes trying to swallow his own tears back. 

‘’and from now on, we’ll tell each other everything.’’

‘’thats what you said last time.’’ mike says, hurt clear on his voice. that was the most vulnerable he’s been that night next to lucas, and he hates himself for opening his goddamn mouth sometimes.

nancy scooches closer to mike’s side and carefully puts her hand on his shoulder. ‘’this time, i mean it.’’ 

before mike could say anything, nancy pulls him for a tight hug. it took a couple of seconds for nancy to quickly pull away, both siblings flustered and taken aback. 

‘’okay, that was of weird.’’ nancy whispers. 

‘’yeah, uh…it was.’’

nancy nods awkwardly, her eyes still glued to the floor and hands fisted on her lap.

‘’i’ll leave you alone.’’ nancy gets up from the bed and reaches for the doorknob. 

‘’nancy.’’

nancy swiftly turns her head to mike with expectant eyes. 

‘’..thanks.’’

she beams at mike, clear relief washing over her, eyes starting to glisten. ‘’get some rest, mike. we’ll talk tomorrow.’’ 

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Jim Baxter X Reader Caring Prompt

!TW: Implied suffering from an illness/being sick, anxiety, feeling guilty/feeling like a burden, implied suffering from depression, mention of feeling under the weather, mention of having a cold, mention of aspirin/medication/drugs, mention of being in pain!

“You’re so pale,” he spoke quietly, his voice full of concern and worry. Jim had never seen you like this before, and your sudden new complexion scared him.

You would be anxious, wincing as you felt numb when you tried to move. “Am I?” You asked, managing to turn your head to look at him. You noticed how tired he looked, and you realised that he’d been stopping himself from sleeping to take care of you, which is the opposite of what you’d told him to do. “Jimmy-.. You need to sleep,” you whispered, your voice strained and shaking.

Jim shook his head; he was too worried that something might happen to you, that he would lose you during the night. That was enough for him to keep himself awake. “I do sleep,” he lied, the tone of his voice one of impatience. “I just didn’t get as much sleep last night,” he muttered, staring ahead of him and fidgeting with his hands. You knew he was lying, but you didn’t want to upset him further. Jim changed the subject, his voice calmer. “Drink your tea, it’ll help your throat,” he advised, gesticulating to the mug beside you. Jim stood up and approached you, carefully lifting the mug to your lips to help you drink from it. “How do you feel, now?” Jim asked, though he was worried for your answer; it was evident on your face that it wouldn’t be good.

You shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. “I feel strange,” you murmured, not knowing how to describe it. “I’ve just - felt kind of ‘off’ all day,” you tried to sum it up, and he nodded slightly in response, he could see that you had.

Before you could stop him, he sat beside you on the bed, trying to hug you. You managed to move away, as you didn’t want to get him sick. “Y/N, it’s okay. C’mere, baby,” he spoke softly, his voice soothing you as you let him pull you close; he didn’t care if you got him sick, he just wanted to comfort you and make you feel better.

-

You had gotten out of bed, trying to walk around. Jim anxiously watched you, staying close to you just in case you needed him to catch you. “You look like you’re about to fall over,” he uttered from behind you, trying not to panic whenever you staggered or tripped over yourself.

You leaned against the table, annoyed by your nose running constantly. “Do we have anymore tissues?” You asked, glancing up at him through fatigued eyes. Jim nodded, reluctantly leaving you alone for a moment to grab the box, offering you a tissue. “Thank you,” you spoke, your voice weak. Jim placed the tissue box down on the table, wishing that you could get some sleep as you were clearly exhausted.

-

Jim sat next to the bed, holding a bowl. You tried to stop him from giving you the food, not feeling hungry, which was a lie. “Try a little of the broth, for me?” Jim requested, clearly desperate. “It’s good for you,” he reminded you. “I know you’re not hungry, but you need to eat,” he insisted, and you gave in, letting him feed you.

You groaned, turning away. “I really don’t feel good, Jimmy,” you stated, stopping him from feeding you the next spoonful. Jim stopped, setting down the spoon and bowl. Jim leaned forward, placing his hand on your forehead to check your temperature, withdrawing it as it was hot to the touch. “It’s okay - I’ll take it easy, I promise,” you assured, pushing his hand away gently.

Jim would be concerned when you went quiet, you eyes fluttering shut and your breathing becoming heavy. “Everything okay there?” Jim asked, unsure as he gently turned you to see your face. You winced, opening your eyes to look up at him. “Hey, are you alright?” Jim pried, urgent as he was worried that you would pass out. “Maybe you should have more of the broth,” he muttered, but you stopped him from reaching for the bowl.

“I can’t eat anymore Jimmy, I can barely swallow,” you responded, and he lowered his hand.

Jim placed his hand on your’s, wanting to comfort you as much as he could. “Well - I’ll stay with you, and try to make you feel as comfortable as I can. I won’t leave,” he assured, leaning back in his seat.

You felt guilty, like you were a burden on him. “You’ve got so much to do, though,” you murmured, “I don’t want you to waste your time on me.” Jim shook his head; he wanted to stay beside you for as long as he could. “S-Sorry, I seem to be losing my voice,” you spoke quietly as your voice cracked.

Jim frowned, wishing he could take your suffering away from you. “Your face is a little flushed,” he commented, noticing the red tint to your cheeks.

You tried to hide it, feeling embarrassed. “I’m a little under the weather, that’s all,” you murmured, but he wasn’t sure what to believe.

“Are you sure?” Jim asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow.

“I think so,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as they were itchy, and kept watering.

-

“Stay put whilst I get the thermometer,” he commanded, rushing out of the room. Jim wasn’t very trusting, he thought that you’d try and run off. Jim grabbed the thermometer, and rushed back to you. Jim tested your temperature, waiting anxiously.

You groaned, trying to stop him. “I’m fine, why do you have to do this now?” You whined, just wanting him to leave you alone for a bit.

Jim ignored your complaints, focussing on the temperature meter. “Stop that and let me take a look at you,” he demanded, wishing you wouldn’t be so stubborn sometimes.

“It’s just a cold,” you tried to lighten the situation, not wanting to believe otherwise. “That result is just high because it’s hot in here,” you mused, watching him as he read the thermometer.

“Please, keep it down,” he uttered, briefly looking up at you before he returned his gaze to the thermometer.

“I’ll be fine with a few hours sleep,” you assured, but he wouldn’t listen to you.

Jim would be shocked, not sure if he was reading the thermometer right. Jim then checked your temperature by using his hand, withdrawing his hand when your forehead almost burnt it. “You’re burning up!” Jim stated, surprised.

You groaned, reaching for your tissue as you sneezed for the 1000th time that day. “I - I can’t stop sneezing-!” You cried; your nose was sore and it pained you. “Do we have aspirin, or something?” You asked, and he nodded.

Jim checked the drawer; he’d previously placed the packet in there as he knew that it would be needed at some point. Jim offered you the aspirin and glass of water, so you could swallow it with the water. Once you were done, he placed the glass back down on the cabinet surface. “You feel too warm,” he whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.

You whimpered, lifting your hand to your forehead. “My head is pounding,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks as it was painful. Jim brushed away your tears, not wanting to see you upset.

-

“Here, sit down,” Jim led you to a nearby seat, sitting you down gently.

You lifted your hand to your forehead, your body numb with pain. “My head really hurts, Jimmy,” you spoke quietly, your voice shaking.

Jim frowned, wishing that he could fight the pain, instead of you; he wanted to suffer, so you didn’t have to. Jim checked your temperature with his hand, and noticed that your temperature was high. “Yeah, you’re runnin’ a little hot,” he mused, worried.

“My throat feels like it’s on fire,” you added, irritated as it continuously pained you. Jim checked his watch, wary that it was a work day for him, but he didn’t want to leave you. Jim dialled up his boss’ number, with the intention of giving himself a day off to take care of you. “Please don’t call in because of me,” you begged, feeling like a burden. Jim wouldn’t listen, leaving the room to continue with the call.

-

“Can you dim the lights a little?” You requested, the bright lights beginning to affect your eyes.

Jim nodded, turning off the big light and replacing it with the lampshade. “Better?” Jim asked, and you nodded, whispering ‘thank you’. “How are you feeling, now?” Jim asked, hopeful that you felt a little bit better.

“M-My nose itches so bad, but I can’t sneeze!” You whined, wishing that you could finally sneeze and stop your nose from running.

Jim checked your temperature with the thermometer, to be sure of what it really was. “102? No wonder,” he uttered, and you would both be shocked that it was so high.

“I’ll be okay, I think,” you muttered, trying to hide the uncertainty in your voice. “I can only breathe through one side of my nostril, that’s what makes it worse, though.”

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

"Broken & Beautiful" Chapter 1

SUMMARY: One night of comfort leads Jake and a co-worker down the path of discovery, friendship and perhaps something more.

PAIRINGS: Jake x OC

TIMELINE: Begins shortly after “The Pork Special” (S. 2, E. 1)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of death, blood and trauma. Nothing in great detail.

I don’t know what time it is, as I haven’t bothered to look at the clock since I first crawled into bed. All I know is that it’s dark, it’s late, and I should be asleep. Instead, I find myself lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling, thoughts racing through my mind. The tiny lights on my headboard cast a faint, soothing golden glow in the bedroom area of my studio apartment.

I should be asleep. That’s what my mind keeps telling me. I know I keep late hours, but tonight is an exception. Depending on what time it is, I can usually be found at Home Bar with the close circle of friends I’ve made during my time at the restaurant. Either that, or I’m taking a cab home or crashing at Ari’s. But thanks to yesterday’s events, I am here at home ... staring at the ceiling and quietly resenting the people who are able to sleep while I cannot.

I let out a weary sigh and close my eyes, once again trying to force myself to sleep. Nothing. I could use a sedative, but I can’t find my prescription. I turn onto my side and pull the blankets over my shoulders. It’s not too cold in here, but I’m one of those people who sleeps better when under the weight of more than one blanket. It’s warm. Soothing. Relaxing. And after a while, it actually begins to work.

I find myself in that place between sleep and awake when an extremely loud pounding sound startles me. I groan, scrunching my eyes shut and trying to force the sound to go away. And, of course, it doesn’t. Not only that, but I hear a very familiar voice bellow “Hey! Kincaid! You in there? Open up!”

There’s only person who refers to me as “Kincaid,” and he’s the last person I expected to show up at my door at ... Wait! Is it really midnight? Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!

More pounding on the door. More yelling. Frustrated, I scream into the pillow. No! Not him! Why’d it have to be him?!

Fed up, I toss the blankets aside and get out of bed. “I’m coming!” I bellow.

I shove aside the curtain that separates my bedroom from the rest of my apartment and stomp my way toward the door, muttering a few choice words when my shin connects with the coffee table and I nearly fall over the damn thing. After rubbing my eyes, I find the light switch and peer through the peephole. I let out another irritated groan. Sure enough, Jake is standing on the other side of the door.

Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I hate Jake. While I’m not good friends with him like I am with the others, he is part of the group I hang out with at Home Bar. We actually get along surprisingly well, in spite of his “sparkling,” personality. Out of everyone, he’s the one I spend the most time with while at work. Makes sense, since we both tend bar at the restaurant.

While I don’t dislike Jake, I have to say that I’m not thrilled by his sudden appearance at my door at this late hour. Not to mention the fact that I have no idea how he even knows where I live.

I bonk my head on the door a few times, sigh tiredly, and then release the three locks. I gently tug the door open, leaving the chain in place, and peer out at him. He’s standing in the corridor, lit cigarette in his mouth, dressed in his casual clothes: black boots; torn denim jeans held up by a black belt; white t-shirt; and his favorite blue hoodie underneath a black leather jacket. His dark hair is damp from the rain, and the glow from the ceiling lights bring attention to the highlights. He is a handsome man with pretty blue eyes, pouty lips and a well-defined jawline. And if I didn’t know better, I’d swoon over him.

But I do know better. So swooning is out of the question.

“What do you want, Jake?” Whoops! That sounded more hostile than intended.

He doesn’t react to my tone of voice. Instead, he takes the cigarette out of his mouth, blows out the smoke and holds up a pill bottle, gently shaking it to get my attention. “Missing something?”

My eyes light up in relief. My sedatives! Hastily, I close the door so I can undo the chain, and then pull it open just as quickly. I snatch the bottle away from him and look at the label, confirming that he has just returned my much-needed sleep medication. “Thank you! Where’d you find them?”

Before I can stop him, Jake brushes past me and casually enters my apartment. He looks around, takes another drag from his cigarette, and then answers “Found ‘em on the locker room floor.”

Of course! I was in such a hurry to leave work that I dropped my purse and dumped out its contents. I gathered things up so hastily and left in such a rush that I failed to notice that the pill bottle wasn’t with me. It must have rolled out of sight.

“Well, thanks for returning them,” I say as I make my way to the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of water, pop a pill into my mouth, and wash it down in two gulps. My back is facing Jake, but the sound of his footsteps indicates that he’s wandering around my apartment as though he owns the space.

“Nice place you have here. Plenty of space,” he comments.

I turn around and lean against the counter. He’s standing near my coffee table, and he immediately notices the book I’ve left out: Pride & Prejudice. He picks it up, looks at its back for a moment, turns it over, and then immediately puts it back where it belongs. Not his type of book, obviously.

“Thanks.”

The next thing he takes note of is my bookcase, which is crammed full of books, pictures and knick-knacks. He disregards the photos and figurines, paying special attention to the novels instead. “You’re a book-reader, huh?”

I shrug and take a few more sips of water. “Yeah. I guess.” I feel increasingly uncomfortable as he continues to wander around. He’s invading my space, and I don’t like it. Hoping he’ll take the hint, I add “Well, I just took a sedative. So ...”

He ventures over to the sofa and flops down, leaning back and making himself at home. Hint definitely not taken. Another drag from his cigarette, and he’s looking at me. I’m fidgeting, and he smirks. He seems to be enjoying this.

“Look, Jake. I really appreciate you doing this, but --”

“So, what’s your story?” he interrupts.

I‘m taken aback. “My ... what?”

“Your story. Why did you have an anxiety attack in the middle of your shift?”

“Jake, if you’re here to yell at me for leaving you to tend bar alone, I --”

He puts out his cigarette in the ashtray and then turns to look at me. The smirk is gone, and his mood suddenly shifts. He’s no longer sending forth that arrogant, couldn’t-care-less vibe of his. His gaze has softened, and ... Wait. Is that concern I see there?

“I’m not here to yell at you. Although ...” And the arrogance comes back again, if only for a brief moment. “... I will say that it was a pain in the ass to tend bar by myself.” And just as quickly, the arrogance is gone and he’s looking at me with those worried eyes of his. “Seriously. What triggered it?”

My discomfort has increased, and I feel like sinking deeper and deeper into myself. I fold my arms across my chest, as though that‘s going to protect me. “Nothing.” I hate where this conversation is heading.

Still hoping that he’ll take the hint, I leave the empty glass in the sink and begin to make my way toward my bedroom. I just want to go to bed and forget that yesterday even happened. He watches as I pass by him, gaze piercing through me. I shove the curtain aside and enter my sanctuary, curling up on my bed. Not surprisingly, Jake is close behind. I refuse to look at him, choosing instead to stare at the clock on my nightstand. I feel the mattress dip, and once again he’s invading my space. He’s sitting on the other side of my bed, still staring at me.

“Go away, Jake,” I say wearily.

The sedative hasn’t kicked in yet, but I’m just so tired of dealing with this; with Jake and the entire situation. I just want to sleep and forget about yesterday. Forget about my embarrassment. Forget about the people standing around me, staring and murmuring as Will fussed over me and explained to them that I would be okay; that I was experiencing an anxiety attack.

“Nope. Can’t get rid of me that easily,” he retorts, and I turn to glare at him. “I got all night, princess.” His tone becomes serious again. Softer this time. “We’ve worked together for two years, Lilah. Something triggered that attack.” I look at him, blinking. Still unwilling to open up to him. “You were fine yesterday morning. Hung-over, granted. But you were fine. And then we went to the farm and ...”

I cringe and turn away, scrunching my eyes shut again. I shouldn’t have done that, because now I’ve given him a clue. I might as well have left a trail of bread crumbs leading straight to the door marked “Lilah’s House of Trauma. Enter at Your Own Risk.” And, of course, he picks up on it right away because now he’s moved closer, further invading my personal bubble.

“It was the pig. Wasn’t it?”

No answer. But it seems silence is all the confirmation he needs.

I sigh as I nervously run a hand through my hair, leaving it so it’s gathered to one side. I can feel the anger and aggression slowly dissipate, but it’s still there. I really don’t want to talk about this. But if this is my chance to get him out of here and away from my personal bubble, then ...

I look down now, fidgeting with the end of the drawstring on my sweatpants. Quietly, almost too quiet, I ask “Did I ever tell you that I’m adopted?”

There’s a pause for a moment, and I can tell that Jake is thinking about it. “Yeah. I think you did. John and Maggie. Right?”

I nod. “Well, I didn’t tell you why I was adopted.”

“Go on.” He becomes quiet as he waits for me to continue.

More fidgeting. I still can’t look at him. If I do, I might fall to pieces. “My, umm ... my mom never knew who my dad was. Well, not for certain. So she raised me. She dated, of course. Had a few boyfriends here and there. Some were good. Some ... not so good.” I cringe inwardly at the last part. ‘Not so good?' I sound like such a child. “It was just us. Me and my mom. And she was, she was amazing, Jake. She worked so hard to provide for me. For us. And she still found time to spend with me.”

I look up at him now, and I can see a small smile on his face. Thinking of his own mother, perhaps? I don’t know that much about her. Just that she wasn’t the one who raised him.

I go back to staring down at my lap as I continue, tears welling up in my eyes. “I remember the last time I talked to her. I was 10, and I had been invited over to a slumber party at my best friend’s house. I was so excited, but I didn’t want my mom to be alone. She told me not to worry and that it was only for one night. My mom and I hugged good-bye. She told me she loved me. And ... that was it. That was the last time I saw her ... alive.”

My eyes clamp shut as I try to will the tears to stay where they are. I hate crying in front of anyone. I hate feeling vulnerable. But as soon as I feel Jake’s hand on my leg, feel the warmth and comfort it provides, I begin to lose it. The tears begin to flow freely now, and it takes a while to calm myself down so I can continue. I really don’t want to, but I can’t seem to help it. It’s like a dam has been broken open. A dam full of memories and trauma.

“I came home the next morning and ... it was quiet, Jake. Too quiet.”

I sniffle. Jake has found my box of tissues on the nightstand, and he hands one to me. His other hand remains on my leg, his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing gesture. He’s watching me intently, and there’s an almost gentle look in his eyes. Something else, too. Understanding?

After wiping my eyes and nose, I sniffle once again. “She was on the bathroom floor. And there was so much ... so much ...”

I can’t go on. A few more sniffles, and then I’m starting to lose it again. I can’t go on, and I’m reduced to a sobbing mess. I can’t control it anymore. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Maybe it’s because the weight that I’ve been carrying is finally lifted, even a little. But hard, uncomfortable sobs that move throughout my entire body. And then suddenly, I find myself pulled into Jake’s arms. His embrace is warm. Firm, but gentle. To be honest, I never thought that Jake - Jake, of all people - could be capable of something like this. He’s always come across as arrogant. Closed-off. Almost completely unaware of those around him unless they served his purpose. This is certainly a side of him I’ve never seen before, and I admit that it’s ... nice. He’s shushing me. Whispering comforting words of some sort. But I’m just focused on what I’m feeling at the moment.

Safe.

My sobs eventually die down and I’m back to sniffling again. I know I should remove myself from his embrace, but I don’t want to. I’m not ready. My head is resting on his shoulder, my nose close to his neck. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent, and he smells good. Like a mixture of cologne, smoke and ... Jake. I feel myself becoming lost in the moment until his voice breaks through my thoughts.

“You okay?”

I’m still for a moment before I nod slightly and respond with a quiet “Uh-huh.” His grip loosens, little by little, and we finally part. We’re still sitting close to each other, though, our knees touching. I take a few more tissues from the box that’s offered to me and let out an embarrassed laugh. I’m pretty sure my cheeks are tinged red now. “Sorry about that. Nothing like some woman crying on your shoulder to brighten your night.”

Jake smirks and chuckles. Perhaps deciding to lighten the moment, he says “Well, at least you’re hot.”

I stop wiping my nose for a moment and look at him, dumbfounded. I’m pretty sure the blush on my cheeks is now quiet noticeable, because now he’s grinning. I can’t help the small laugh that escapes from me. There’s the Jake I know.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he says.

“Thank you.” I offer him a small smile, and I can feel my eyelids growing heavy. Either the sedative is kicking in, or I’m simply drained from my breakdown. “I think the sedative is kicking in.”

Jake nods in understanding and moves off of the bed, watching as I begin to settle down for the night. He pulls the covers over me and begins to walk away, stopping only when I softly speak two words to him: “Jake, stay.” I can’t deny that I still crave the comfort he’s provided. I don’t want to sleep with him. Not in that way. Not in the way he’d think. I just want to be held.

He’s still for a while, deciding. I think that maybe he’s not open to getting into bed with a woman when sex isn’t involved. Maybe he feels he’s fulfilled his karmic duty and he’s ready to go home. While I would be disappointed, I think I would understand. I’ve imposed upon him long enough. Haven’t I?

Then he gives me a smile. Something I so rarely see. It looks good on him, and he should wear it more often. He takes off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and says “Scoot over.”

I give him a small smile and do as he says, pulling the blankets aside for him. He stretches out on his back and, without hesitation, tugs me to him. I feel a bit shy as I cuddle up to him, but I decide I don’t care. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow; if we’ll go back to business as usual and pretend this never happened. But for now, at least, I can enjoy the moment.

@anastacia-lynn

[lemonlillybee]

Whumptober Day 4

Title: Dead On Your Feet

Prompts: Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out @whumptober

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU)

Word Count: 679

Read on AO3

“How the hell is he falling asleep right now?”

“I don’t know! Did you actually get it into him? Like maybe the suit stopped the syringe?”

“Yes, I got it into him!”

“Okay, well it clearly didn’t work.”

There are two voices arguing. Peter tries to open his eyes. It feels like he might be lying on his back, but there’s pressure from all sides and a pulsing in his head and he could very well be upside down on the ceiling, too.

“Do another dose then.” 

“Will it work if he’s asleep now?”

“Guess we’ll find out…what’s that sound?”

“Holy shit, it’s Captain Am–”

“Ahhhh!!!”

–- 🕷–-   –- 🕷–-   –- 🕷–-

The fluorescent light overhead flickers in time with Peter’s heart beat. The sound it’s making, a pulsating hum, buzzes in his ears. He doesn’t really recall waking up but he knows he’s been asleep by the grittiness in his eyes and the dryness in his mouth. Even though he feels tired, he doesn’t fall back asleep, but he may as well be sleeping because everything is foggy and he feels like he’s in a dream, like he’s toeing the line of consciousness but not quite crossing it.

Suddenly, there’s someone standing above him. The person, a man with dark eyes and facial hair and a forehead creased with worry, says something, or at least Peter thinks he does, because his mouth moves. He can feel the words vibrate in his chest even though he can’t hear it. 

There’s a second voice, soft and low that Peter can make out just slightly better. He doesn’t recognize the first man, or the other voice, or where he is, but there’s a strange sense of familiarity and calmness in the atmosphere. 

“Mmnff?” His mouth doesn’t really work the way he thought it was going to.

“Peter,” he hears in reply, and he knows who that is.

At least, he’s pretty sure that’s his name. 

He has the same, weird feeling of pressure surrounding his entire body as before, when he’d heard the two angry voices arguing. The difference, though, is that now that he has opened his eyes, he can’t seem to keep them closed. Under normal circumstances, staring up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling would be a one way ticket to a migraine, but now he can’t tear his gaze away. He feels wired, the way he does when he accidentally drinks caffeine. He tries to sit up, but his body feels like it’s weighed down.

“Peter?” It’s the man again, but this time when his face enters Peter’s vision it’s familiar. He knows that face. 

“Hngh.”

“I know, bud. I know.” 

“Wh’t?” He manages, still unable to sit up.

“We’re working that out,” the man whispers. “Just rest.”

Peter wants to listen. He wants to rest. All he wants to do is close his eyes. All he wants is to drift away into darkness, to sleep. But he can’t. 

Instead, he looks at the fluorescent lights and tries to remember why the face is so familiar.

–- 🕷–-   –- 🕷–-   –- 🕷–-

For seven or eight hours, Peter lies awake, staring at the ceiling. 

People drift in and out of the room. It feels like some kind of hospital, with the bright lights and the white walls and the constant stream of people who he assumes are doctors or nurses. He’s aware that something is wrong with him, with his body, or maybe his mind, but he still feels like he’s in a dream and when he feels someone poking and prodding him there’s no panic, only numbness. 

He tries to close his eyes every so often, but it’s like there’s a magnet keeping them open and as soon as he does they’re opening right back open again. At some point, the familiar man comes to cover him with a blanket and his name pops into Peter’s head.

“Tony?”

“Just rest,” he tells Peter again, and he nods even though he still can’t rest. Tony tucks the blanket around him and sits next to the bed and Peter stares at the ceiling.

[casspurrjoybell-26]

May to December - Chapter 13 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Joint Parenting

The next morning had been surreal.

Kyle and woken up with Otis squashed between Chaska and himself.

It had taken him a while to remember why they were in the man's apartment in the first place but when he did remember a sweet feeling of joy overcame him.

He started at the dark-haired man sleeping across from him before looking down at his son's head of dirty blond hair.

He grinned, running a hand through his son's hair as he hummed.

His humming got a rise out of Chaska, the tan-skinned man farrowed his brows before opening them and blinking a few times.

"You're awake?" he said but it was framed more like a question.

Kyle's smile widened as he nodded and reached out to touch the man's face.

"You're awake now as well," he said and Chaska rolled his eyes before looking down at Otis who was still fast asleep.

"He sleeps like a log," Kyle explained and Chaska chuckled, rolling until he was lying on his back and looking up at the bedroom ceiling.

"His mum put him on a strict schedule he gets up at eight on the dot."

"What time is it? What's the day even?" Chaska asked, making Kyle frown a bit as he tried to remember.

"It looks like it's still really early and it's Sunday... I think?" Kyle muttered, his memory equally as hazed.

"I think so too..." Chaska trailed and the room went silent for a bit before the two men burst out laughing.

"Yesterday was a bit draining, wasn't it?" Kyle asked and Chaska hummed, rolling on his side to touch Otis' hair.

"I love him but being with him all day is exhausting," the young man chuckled and Kyle smiled.

He was referring to dealing with the energetic toddler.

The words were mundane but Chaska mentioning that he loved his son made Kyle's heart skipped a bit.

It probably wasn't something too special.

He loved all his other students after all.

At least that's what Kyle assumed.

"Well, you're a lot better with kids than me," Kyle muttered feeling his heartbeat quicken when he realized this was ample time to bring up what he'd been meaning to suggest.

"Chaska," he said in a low tone, changing the mood of the banter.

"I've been wanting to ask if you'd like to help me with Otis."

Kyle's face was growing hot and he was finding a hard time mustering the breath he needed to say the next sentence.

"I know you're busy and that whatever we have right now makes things a little touchy..." Kyle pushed himself to talk, moving to sit up on the bed so that he could look down at Chaska.

The dark-haired man wasn't showing any clear signals or emotions and it was worrying to Kyle.

"But I need help. I'm not the best of dads and I'd like it if someone with actual experience with these things could help me," he finished before letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

His hands had been drawn into fists at his side and he kept looking over at Chaska for a reaction, anything at all.

Chaska stared at him before turning his gaze to the little boy still fast asleep at the center of the queen-sized bed.

He let out a sigh as he tucked him in and moved to sit up on the bed himself.

"What kind of help?" he asked, staring at Kyle in the eyes again.

The older man shrugged.

"Everything?"

Chaska rose a brow at him before chuckling.

"Everything?"

"I'm being honest," Kyle said as Chaska continued laughing.

"I have a very hard time trying to discipline him without being overly cruel and I'm never sure how to talk with him without feeling like it's too weird and plastic. I-I just need help," he admitted as his shoulder's slouched.

Unlike Chaska who was bare-chested, he was in a tank top.

"You know, until my ex-wife left me, I didn't know how bad at this I was," he went on, feeling his face warm up from coming clean with that.

"I see you interact with Otis and I think, 'I want a relationship like that with him.' It's hard to explain. Just realizing how shit I am at parenting over the past few months has overwhelming but the last two and a half that I've been here haven't been as bad, and I know it's because of you. I see you every day and I copy and learn from you..." Kyle trailed, swallowing the spit that had formed at the back of his mouth.

"So, I'd love it if you'd help me. You're more or less a better dad to him than me already," he added, watching Chaska's face for a reaction.

Chaska let out a small sigh as he gazed at Kyle with a blank look.

He suddenly frowned a bit before looking away and running a hand through his hair.

"If what I just said has made you uncomfortable, you should ignore me," Kyle coughed up, feeling his chest clog up at what he assumed was a rejection.

Chaska shook his head before scooting as far in as he could without hurting Otis.

"It's not that," he muttered, his voice just high enough for Kyle to pick up.

The dark-haired man reached out to touch Kyle's cheek, smiling at him before letting his hand drop to the mattress.

"I'm just a bit worried, that's all," he said, only confusing Kyle more.

"Worried about what?" the words jumped out from Kyle's out.

They slurred and jumbled and Chaska was amused enough to chuckle a bit.

"It's a bit worrying to give a child the impression of a relationship when you're not sure if things will work out, isn't it?" Chaska said.

An uncomfortable silence followed Chaska's words.

Kyle didn't know what to say, and he tried his best to keep himself calm by squeezing his hand into a fist from time to time.

"Yesterday, you said it was okay for us to share a bed even after I said it was a bit like doing mom and dad things in front of Otis," Kyle said, looking over at Chaska.

His blue eyes held the younger man's deep brown ones.

"Did you change your mind over the course of the night?"

Kyle let out a low breath before turning away, deciding that looking at him was too emotionally tasking.

"No, I don't think you still understand," Kyle heard Chaska say.

"I'm worried about what will happen if we ever jump-started a relationship but it didn't work out in the end. What happens with Otis? Wouldn't he hate me if he thought I just decided not to be friends with him again?" Chaska's explanation made Kyle pause for a bit. It made sense.

He was worried about Otis losing a friend.

Even now Chaska was worrying about his son.

"Then we should never break up."