#day 6: getting in trouble || drunkenness

[crushedsweets]

Do you have any headcanons of Lyra and Toby’s relationship?

this has been in my inbox for like over a week by now because this is a big task in my head. i will focus more on the family itself, but obviously the siblings r there.

ROGERS FAMILY HCS UNDER THE CUT... tw for abuse and addiction, of course

ok. WE'RE GETTING PERSONAL HERE. im the eldest daughter of 3 so the way in which i project into older siblings is insane. ive also had an addict father(no where near like frank though let me clarify) so in general . . the story.. makes me feel very...... basically their relationship is very personal to me.

lyra is about 2-3 years older than toby.

frank's dad was in the vietnam war, his grandparents were in wwii, his grandparents in wwi, etc. so he went into military service right after marrying connie. for a long while, he was SUPER military strict. those kids were up, made their bed, and down for chores by 6am everyday. he made them do military time rather than civilian time. he was incredibly traditional, expected a perfectly clean household, a polite soft daughter, a strong bold son, perfect wife. he wanted the 1950s nuclear family model. so toby and lyra grew up in a very clean, strict, traditional household.

in my au, frank wasnt outright abusive until the kids were around 8-11. it was after he developed his addictions and lost his job. the kids really didnt understand what was changing at first, and legitimately were like 'omg dad isnt making us wake up at 5am everyday..... this is so cool'.

theyd start having sleepovers in eachothers room, slacking a bit on chores, going to sleep late, sleeping in. toby didnt develop his tourettes until he was around 7, so lyra and toby would walk home from their elementary school together. sometimes, theyd walk another friend home first, stop at convenience stores to get candy, pet a cat, etc. frank didnt say a thing for the first few months, just drunken grumbles along connies worried 'WHERE HAVE U BEEN'. if they weren't walking around the area, they were in the backyard playing soccer.

eventually the abuse began, and all of those little freedoms were quickly stripped from the kids.

toby developing tourrettes around this time was a painful coincidence, because not only did he experience abuse at home, but awful bullying at school. he was promptly pulled out after completing 3rd grade. he was only 8.

lyra would practically run home from school everyday, as fast as a 12 year old girl with a backpack could manage, just because she spent all 7 hours in school worrying about toby at home. connie had to start working to pay bills, so..

when toby was around 11 and lyra was around 13, toby started kinda just. being more distant. he was kind of a dick to lyra for a period of time, half because of everything he was going through, half because puberty is rough. his room started getting messy, lyra had to start picking up chores he was slacking on , etc. lyra isnt perfect and began to resent toby for this, and eventually, the two were kinda at eachothers throats for like 6 months. which isnt a lot, but for kids, its an eternity.

when franks abuse evolved from ''just'' verbal abuse, to shoves, to slaps, to full on beatings, toby started egging frank on. just to get him off of lyra and connie. obviously he couldnt feel it, and while it sure took a fucking mental toll, it was so much easier to just wait it out rather than listen to the girls cry.

lyra didnt even realize toby was doing this for a while, she just thought it was all part of him going through his little hormonal asshole phase, until one day frank made a fucked up comment about 'youre lucky that boy is always causing trouble. was supposed to be you'. then it kinda clicked and she very quickly tried to fix their relationship back to what it was.

frank eventually scared connie so badly that there'd be periods of time where she'd take the kids in the middle of the night, and run off to either her parents place, or even a random hotel in another city. she'd use cash, force the kids to keep their phones at home, leave literally everything behind and often make the kids pick out new toothbrushes at a random walmart. etc. it would only last a few days each time, and lyra fought so hard to stay strong while her mom cried and toby closed himself off.

she'd try to get toby to come to the hotel pools with her, try to get him to watch tv with her, try to get him to just fucking talk to her. he was often catatonic during these little runaways, once the confusion adrenaline and fear wore off

it wasnt until they went around a month without seeing their father, and frank had some weird fucking. 'those are MY kids too' thing and went to connie's parents house while all the adults were out, and forced the kids back home. this was the first time lyra was full on sobbing and begging and pleading in years. that was what shifted something in toby, too.

now tobys 13, lyras 15, and theyre on better footing. theyre starting to understand eachother. tobys back on keeping up with chores, knowing that either him lyra or connie was going to get beat if they were missed. sometimes he'd just silently come into lyras room and lay down and watch tv with her. they'd talk about books, about school, their trust was built right back up and toby ended up being the first to know about lyras school drama, gossip, boys, etc.

toby wasn't really socialized properly, since he's been homeschooled for 6 years by now. all the time, he'd hear lyras stories, and wish he could go to school. his mom would be horrified anytime toby asked, because all she could remember was her sweet boy coming home and crying into her arms after a day of being mocked and pushed around by peers.

so he began to live through lyra, in a sense ? he almost became a diary for lyra, and he kinda loved it. she was like a sitcom to him.

frank wasnt a good father by any means during this period, he was still awful, but he wasn't constantly looking for trouble. the kids kept to themselves, connie did everything she was expected to, he didnt give a shit about their grades or social lives. he couldn't even recgonize when lyra was coming home late.

lyra got her license the second she turned 16. the house had two cars, and its not like frank was ever going anywhere, so she was always going everywhere. she adored the freedom, and took toby wherever he'd let her. he only really left the house if he was going grocery shopping with his mom or something, so it was kinda weird now that he was just. going to malls. going to restaurants. going to parks. just Hanging Out. every now and again he'd stick around when Lyra was with her friends, but he didn't like them so it was rare.

sometimes theyd just drive together for a long time. at night, she was the one to take him to every hospital visit, she even got him to volunteer at a pet shelter she worked at for a bit. 3 years and they become so close again, and lyra is tobys best friend. she's his entire world because who else does he have ? he loves his mom, but she's married to the man he hates more than anything

toby was 16 and lyra was 18 when frank strangled toby till he passed out. thats finally when connie kicked frank out, forcing frank to go live on his moms couch. lyra was mortified and started spending an absurd amount of time with toby. she took online community college courses just so she could spend even more time with toby, and it didnt hurt to do so since frank wasnt there anymore. things were getting better for the family, frank was gone, lyra was in college, connie was working, toby was volunteering at shelters and even had a few acquaintances he'd talk to now and again.

lyra picked toby up from the shelter he volunteered at when the accident happened.

lyra and connie had matching silver necklaces with a circle pendant that had their initials. toby didnt cuz frank would get pissed if toby tried wearing jewelry, but when lyra died, toby immediately clung to it. he wears it religiously. the only time he takes it off is if he knows he's going to kill someone that day. otherwise, its always on him.

lyra died and was buried in colorado. toby lives in alabama now. so he really doesnt visit her grave often. only on her birthday, he'll scramble together some money and get brian, tim, and kate to agree to cover his uh. 'shifts' with slenderman, and take a few loooonnnggg train rides over to colorado.

he'll leave two bouquets of flowers. one for lyra, one for connie.

connie just feels in her heart that its toby. she has no reason to believe it, they've never bumped into eachother (toby's visiting at like 2am and falls asleep near the grave for a few hours), but she knows nobody else whos visiting lyras grave and leaving two sets of the same flowers.

toby and lyras childhood home was put on sale shortly after it was reconstructed from the fire, and connie moved in with her sister. lyras bedroom door was the only one that was shut and left unscathed after the fire (legitimately keep your doors shut if you ever have a housefire it can save entire bedrooms and even lives). the rest of the house was ruined, but not lyras room. connie kept every single one of her belongings, but she's put some photos out on the grave. tobys taken them, and connie believes it was him. again, she has no reason to believe it other than the flowers and 'why would someone take a photo of my dead daughter.'

anyway hi. in tears. i love them. sorry. i just retell their story over and over and get sad everytime

[rosepinksky]

Pay For My Time (pt. 6)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female reader

In which Ghost's neighbour drags him in for dinner, and then ruins his life.

Warnings: alcohol use, implied dub-con due to alcohol use but it's stopped in its tracks!, ghost being a possessive mess and i am FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR IT

word count: 2.5k

ao3 link

part 1 (smutty!)

masterlist

Ghost had sat there, perched on the stairs outside her floor with his leg jerking in anticipation, for upwards of an hour. He rested his chin on his knuckles, breath misting in the November chill of the stair close. Another glance at his phone- 1:40am- and he rose, storming down into the street. He slipped past the raucous crowds milling outside the pub across the road, his hands clenching in his jacket pockets to keep warm.

The club Lucy danced in was on a side of the city far shittier than the one they lived in, and that was saying something. He could feel the passersby’s eyeing him up as he walked, sizing him up. None approached.

It was sort of understandable, the way this demographic of patrons flocked to this street in particular. The kind of place where everybody implicitly understood to not discuss their activities there in the office the next day. A fucking rural Westworld, tucked away in a northern English city. A casino with its bright neon signs spilling a rainbow onto the chipped pavement, a pub advertising £3 pints- Christ, he’s been in London too much- and the Black fucking Lace, cartoonish vinyl stickers of women on poles plastered to the frosted windows.

He can hear her before he sees her; a cackle of drunken laughter around the back of the building. He heads toward the sound, and there she is; scantily-clad form draped in a man’s suit jacket that hangs on her like an oversized coat, stumbling a little on her ridiculous heels. She’s leant against the railing of the fire exit stairs, eyes glittering and hazy as she grins lazily up at the man spouting shite at her. He laughs, wrapping his arm around her waist to draw her closer, and she lets him, responding with her own bright little giggles.

The bottle of beer in his hand sloshes in his grip, droplets splashing onto her exposed skin and she takes it, taking a long drink as she holds the man’s gaze.

Ghost’s fists clench even tighter in his pockets as he watches the stranger’s eyes light up at her contact, his pig hands sliding up over her lower back. Creepy fucker, touching up the woman practically swaying on her feet in front of him.

He clears his throat as he approaches the pair, Lucy’s head turning to face him. Her smile wavers but doesn’t drop, her eyes taking him in from head to toe. He’s sure he looks the picture of wrath, all squared shoulders and hulking black mass, but tries to keep his expression composed.

“You alright, Vi?” He does his best to keep his tone soft as he keeps his eyes on her, yet to acknowledge the greasy little man with his hands on her.

She nods, taking another swig of the beer. “Never better, John. Did you need something?”

He bristles. “Looks like you might need someone to walk you home. Long night, huh?”

She smiles, and he swears it’s cruel, and she turns her attention back to the man attached to her. “Yeah. Danny here’s got it covered, don’t worry.”

He finally lifts his eyes from her to the man. Danny.

“Danny here looks like he has a bit more on his mind than just making sure you get home safe. Isn’t that right, mate?”

The man rolls his shoulders back, appearing to calculate the risk Ghost poses right now. More than you know, mate.

“You her boyfriend or something, man? Hey, I don’t want trouble. She seemed pretty fucking available to me.” Oh, so he’s a big man now?

“Not her boyfriend. Just don’t appreciate little shits like you taking advantage of vulnerable women.”

Lucy scoffs, stepping between Ghost and the man. “I’m not fucking vulnerable, I’m a grown woman. Back off, Ghost.”

Danny laughs sharply, pulling her back against his chest by the waist. “Ghost? What sorta fucking name is that?”

Ghost’s glare hardens. “Callsign. Counter-terrorism, SAS.”

There’s a moment of tense silence, and Lucy’s eyes are locked onto his. He swears he can see her pupils dilate in the pink glow of the buzzing neon lights.

She shoves the beer back into the creep’s hands without so much as a glance back at him, the liquid frothing and spilling onto his sleeve. “I’m tired. Let’s get a taxi, Smith.” She brushes past the both of them, ignoring the disgruntled calls of protest from the sleazebag behind them. Ghost nods, shooting the bloke a smug grin hidden beneath his balaclava.

He follows after her, resisting the bizarre urge to wrap a protective arm around her waist.

More than protective, actually.

Possessive.

He ruminates on the way he finds her so much easier to digest when she’s sitting quietly in the back of the taxi next to him, her features lit up every so often by the passing lights of the city. He’d always gone for quiet girls in the past, even if he’d never admit out loud that was something he sought out.

She’s not quiet. God, she’s a bona fide wreck, if anything. Her entire being reeks of substance abuse, of nymphomania and likely some deep-rooted parental issues to boot. She is a walking red flag, the kind of person who’d lead you astray and chip away at your morals with her siren-like smile.

He knows this; he’s no stranger to dangerous vices, makes no claim to innocence. Still, while he may not be the top subscriber of the on-base psychology facilities, he’s sat through enough mandated sessions to recognise self-destruction when he sees it.

She doesn’t turn to face him when she speaks. Her voice is lowered, cognizant of the driver separated from them only by a thin plastic screen.

“I know why you came to get me tonight.”

He hums in response, fingers adjusting their grip on his elbows.

“…I’m not going to play the sweetheart just because you wanted to play the hero.”

A pause. He takes a moment to stare at the blur of streets and lampposts outside the window before answering.

“You told me the first night we met that you’re selfish- and I don’t take you for a liar.”

She does turn to face him then, eyes swimming with an emotion he can’t quite place yet. Gratitude. Pride, maybe.

There’s another pause, and she clears her throat. “So- SAS, huh? Anti-terrorism.”

Ghost chuckles then, his expression softening. “You seem surprised.”

She shrugs, smiling softly. “I don’t know. Sort of had you pegged as a preening Coast Guard rookie.”

He laughs again, a little heartier this time. “The Coast Guard do good work.”

Her smile widens. “I know. My brother used to volunteer, when he was in high school.”

His posture stiffens in surprise. “You got a brother?”

Lucy doesn’t move. It’s like she’s gone somewhere; he wonders where. “…Yeah. Two, actually. And a sister.”

Ghost- well, on further introspection, this is Simon talking- raises an eyebrow. She hiccups, and he has to fight to hold back a smile.

“I had a brother.”

She’s quiet for a moment, long nails picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of the suit jacket. The image of Danny the Prick shivering as he heads back inside to settle his bill without it amuses Ghost to no end.

“Had?” She asks, voice gentler than he’d heard from her before.

No, actually, that wasn’t true. Her voice was soft that first night they’d spoken, her hands running along his thighs as she knelt between his legs. He hadn’t seen her like that since; all docile and tone filled with a sincerity that had him believing she actually cared about what he had to say.

He nods, and debates elaborating. She probably wouldn’t even remember this in the morning- God, I wonder how much of her life she’s lost to drunken blackouts. Does she still feel 19 because she can only remember 19 out of however many years she’s lived?

She doesn’t press for more anyway, hazy eyes starting to droop. He thinks, just for a second, that she’ll lay her head against his shoulder, but she shifts her weight to lean her forehead against the condensation-coated window with a stifled yawn.

“…Simon.”

Her eyes flutter back open, and he feels the twist of regret in his stomach as he takes in the patch of smeared foundation of her forehead now.

“Huh?” She frowns at him, the drink and the sleep muffling her hearing.

With his voice still barely above a whisper, he repeats himself. “Simon.” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “My name.”

It takes her a second, but a smile spreads across her smudged lips. “Simon.” She chirps back, seemingly pleased with the way his name sounds on her tongue. She chuckles to herself, pressing her knees against his. He doesn’t press back, but does keep his legs in place, feeling the chilled skin of her knees through his trousers. He holds his breath.

He had to practically herd her up the stairs when they pull up to the building, his hands hovering over her waist in fear of her tripping and tumbling down the long flights of stairs. She looks up at him as they stop outside of her door, her fingers curling around the collar of his jacket.

“Are you gonna come in?”

“No, Lucy. Not tonight.” His response is quick, anticipating her question. He untangles his fingers from him, bringing them back down to her sides.

She shakes her head, eyes flickering over his broad chest. “Not to fuck. Just…stay.”

There’s a long pause, and she keeps her gaze down. He furrows his brows, keeping his gentle grasp around her wrists.

“To just…sleep?”

Another fleeting moment of silence, and she nods. He grunts in response, shrugging his shoulders. A flicker of a smile creeps across his lips at the sight of her own, and he’s once again grateful for the privacy mask he’d grabbed before leaving his flat earlier.

She unlocks her door, tripping over her entrance rug as she fiddles with the clasps on her shoes, tossing them in the vague direction of the hallway cupboard. He clicks his teeth at the sight of her numerous lamps and lighting fixtures still on despite her being out for the past few hours.

“Fucking fire hazard, Luce.” He chastises, and she snorts out a drunken laugh.

“Better than cracking my head open trying to fumble for the light switch in the dark.”

He hums at that, an unconvinced allowance at her logic. He follows her through to the bedroom, smirking at the haphazard piles of clothes she’d pulled out of her wardrobe earlier she’d neglected to pick up.

“You were gonna bring that Danny bloke home with your place a tip like this?”

Lucy rolls her eyes at him, shoving the crumpled heaps of lace and satin into a drawer. “Didn’t particularly care about his opinion of my homemaking capabilities.”

She strips off the flimsy material of her dress, tossing it into a hamper. He eyes the intricate straps of her lingerie, clasps tucked under layers of overlapping silk. She brushes her hair over one shoulder, and by God is he tempted to press a kiss to the bare skin exposed.

“Help me out of this?” Her tone is light, innocent, but that woman knows exactly what she’s doing. Ghost complies with a grunt, thick fingers brushing against her back as he undoes the knots, the bows and the little buckles holding the garment in place. He lets it drop to the floor unceremoniously, and revels in the way her breath hitches as he kneels to the floor behind her and hooks his fingers over the hem of her underwear.

He keeps his eyes on the side of her face turned towards him over her shoulder as he lifts the bottom of his mask and presses his lips to the back of her thigh, smiling against her skin as the touch makes her jolt forward on her unsteady legs.

He curls one hand against her knee to still her, keep her in place as he trails his lips upward, breathing in the heady scent of her. It’s a mixture of smells that has him nosing against her, rain and sweat, stale beer and sweet perfume and her. Lucy, not Violet.

He tugs her underwear down, over the curve of her hips and past the flesh of her thighs, letting the scarlet piece of lace fall to the floor next to her bra. He keeps his gaze down as he lets his finger travel up back towards her core, pinky finger extending out to swipe across the swell of her ass.

He stands, pulling her hair back over her shoulder to fall down across her back. “Let’s get you into my shirt again and into bed, princess.” He whispers close to her ear, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning at the way she shivers.

“Uh-huh.” She nods, turning to face him again. Her hands drop to his belt buckle, glancing up at him for permission. He nods, watching her closely as she gathers the coordination to pull the leather off of him, undoing his trousers too and dropping to her knees just like he had done to pull the hem down to his knees. She stares up at him for a second, pupils blown, before turning her attention towards his boots. She mumbles a soft curse as she struggles with the tightly-knotted laces, acrylic nails too long to let her undo them with any sort of ease.

Ghost chuckles, but doesn’t move to help her. He watches from above as she bends forward to tug and pull at his shoes, doing nothing more than lifting his foot slightly to let her take the shoe off. He throws his jacket over her door, pulling his shirt off over his head and offering it to her.

She leans back on her heels, donning the soft cotton tee. “And the mask?” She asks hopefully.

“Not tonight, Luce.” His words echo the ones he’d spoken outside of her door as he cups her jaw, his hands large enough to take her entire cheek into his palm. “Bedtime.”

She sighs, pouting just slightly, but acquiesces and crawls underneath the floral-patterned sheets. He follows, grabbing at her waist and pulling her onto his chest.

She whines. “The light, Si.”

He raises an eyebrow, lifting his head off of the pillow to look down at her. “Si?” He asks incredulously. She just waves off the question, arousal quickly dissipated by her body’s need to pass out into a drunken sleep.

He chuckles, drawing her in tighter. He tucks his mask back down over his jaw, but not before pressing a chaste kiss into her hair, drawing in one last greedy breath of her scent without the fabric in the way.

Rain. Sweat. Booze. Something pretending to be cherry. Cinnamon- real cinnamon.

(tag list! <3 @simpxinnie)

[lokisremainingsanity]

Moonknight system getting in trouble

content: just scenarios of Steven, Marc, and Jake with their girlfriend, a boss woman who loves them very much, slight angst with comfort, and drinking

~ava!🍓

I like to imagine the moonboys being with their lover, who's extremely mother-like. She's always taking care of them, worrying about them, defending them, and overall just as protective as a lioness over her cubs. Whenever one of them causes trouble though, she'll appropriately punish them. The days that "Ms Grant" is mad (at Steven) she'll go easy on him because he's too soft for her to scold harshly.

"Steven, this is the third time you've forgotten your lunch at home."

You stood there in your suit with your hand on your hip, looking at him sternly as you held his fully packed lunchbox you made him this morning in the other hand.

Steven was surprised you actually came to drop it off right at his cubical in the break room, since you had a booked day of meetings today. He felt terrible, that he was probably taking up your only break of the day.

"I- I'm so sorry, lovie-" He walked to you shamefully as he tried to apologize.

"That's the same thing you said last time, and the time before it. I did not come all the way through busy Piccadilly street here for an apology." You still were talking in your work voice, the business woman voice that showed you meant business. Steven's hot face reddened and his knees almost buckled from your authoritative voice.

"I..um.. I-" He started stammering under your gaze, and you came closer to him and held his face. He still looked down at the floor in shame, until you told him "Steven, look at me.". He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes.

"I came here for a promise from you. I am only upset because I care about you, you know that right? I don't want my baby skipping his lunch especially if I made it. This is so you learn next time not to do it again, okay honey? Promise me that. " You baby-talked him and looked at him with only a mother's care in your eyes.

"y-yes. I understand lovie. I won't do it again. I promise."

And that's how Steven got off with Ms. Grant's wrath easily. Marc on the other hand...

He came back from his nightly routine of serving the Egyptian Moon God to an empty apartment. He saw things.. that triggered unwanted memories. Of course, instead of waiting for you to come back and help him, he decides to indulge in old coping habits: Drinking.

So that's how you came home from a busy day at work to an immensely drunken Marc Spector. He lays on your couch with an almost full alcohol bottle, with plenty of empty ones at his feet. He's slouched and just as he tips his head back to take another sip the bottle is swiped away from him.

"Marc! What is this?!" you hiss lowly at him as you point to the trashed floor with the bottle.

He doesn't even say anything, he just looks at you with hooded eyes.

"Just stay where you are."

You go put the bottle away in the kitchen and return with a breathalyzer. Standing in front of him with it, you gently take his chin, "Open." and he does just as you say. As you wait for the number to pop up, you take notice of his disheveled appearance, messy hair, and bloodshot eyes. Something bad must have happened for him to relapse this bad.

0 . 1 6 m g / L

The breathalyzer reads.

"Holy shit, Marc.", he has you worried. Urgently, you get the biggest glass of water for Marc. He tried to refuse, his head moving away, but you wouldn't budge your hand on his chin. Even in his drunken state, he understood you were serious. After he drank enough, you helped him to the bed, much more comfortable than the couch.

You lay with him and brushed his hair, trying to comfort him as he stared blankly at the wall. Eventually, he finally shut his eyes and you followed right after.

The next morning, it was Marc who woke up first. His raging headache wouldn't let him get any more sleep. He raised his head slowly and with squinting eyes he surveyed the room. Then he saw you, right under him, sleeping in your suit.

Shit

He felt even more horrible, as if the pulsing headache moved to his chest. He must've kept you occupied the second you came back. You didn't deserve that. Suddenly tears started to form in his eyes just as they did the night before. He felt useless.

At the first sniffle you hear, you instantly wake up. Marc is sitting slouched on the side of the bed with his hands on his face.

"Marc, habibi.." you get up to put your hand on his back.

"Are you okay? What happened? Do you need asprin? Let me get you some pain reliever-"

"No" his voice is rough and scratchy from crying.

You stop and look at him blankly.

"No?"

"I'm sorry, I don't want to burden you like this. I've done enough. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Marc"

You wrap your arms around him and he leans into you.

"You're not a burden to me Habibi. Don't ever think that. What you did yesterday, it wasn't right. You were doing so good without the alcohol."

You brushed his hair out of his face and gazed into his sad eyes. "I'm here for you. Anytime you feel bad about something, just tell me. Wait for me and I'll be with you and we can figure it out together okay?"

He sniffles and nods his head slightly. "Good, now I'm going to get you some painkillers. We're throwing away all the alcohol in this household." (household.. or mansionhold?)

No drinks are allowed to go through your doors for the next year, and you make Marc take consistent therapy sessions again to help with his troubles. It doesn't sound like a punishment, at least to you. It's just a necessary measure to monitor your love's health. Marc though, thinks it's completely unnecessary. But can he go against your word? No, the answer is no.

Compared to "Ms. Grant" and "Ms. Spector", "Ms. Lockely" is the harshest. And for good reason too.

Jake is the most stubborn of the three. You love him very much, but sometimes, he's really a jackass. Pardon the language. He can be a sweetheart when he wants to be, or an exhaustion when you need to put him in his place.

This whole week has been a mess, with delayed meetings that messed up your entire schedule, and employees getting sick with the flu season so you're understaffed. You finally come home early on Friday, and you're hoping for some massage(or head), from Steven probably. Except when you do get through the front door, you're met with a mess on the floors. Mud footprints on the floor. Shoes that are thrown instead of on the rack.

What the hell?

You feel the irritation from the morning rise up again. You walk further in and collapse your sore body onto the couch. Cracking your neck, you move your head in a few circles. Then you open your eyes and catch something. Dark little circles on the armrest. With a closer look, you realize they're cigarette marks.

Throwing the shoes around?

Smoking inside?

BURNING YOUR COUCH?

Someone might get butchered tonight.

"Hola bebita!" Jake strolls into the living room and leans over to kiss you. That's when you get a whiff of that distinct cigar smell. You lean back to miss his lips.

"Jake?"

"Yes, amor?" He asks confused.

"Did you smoke under my roof?"

...

Silence ensues.

"Ah but amor the smell is not here anymore-"

"Forget the smell, Lockely. You burned my couch." Your voice may have been eerily even, but your eyes showed how much rage you had.

"It's oka-"

"Lockely, you RUINED my house with mud and cigarette marks! YOU THINK I WANTED TO COME HOME TO ORGANIZE THE TRASHED FLOOR-"

"But eh.. the cleaning is a woman's job anyway, no?" he tried to jest in the middle of your rant.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Misogyny is absolutely not tolerated under Ms. Lockely's roof.

So guess who had to sleep on the couch that night.

Guess whose limo got towed off your property that night?

Guess whose bank account got frozen so they couldn't pay the fee to get their limo back?

Guess who had to help cook and clean in the female-led kitchen the next time you organized a gala?

That's right.

Jake Lockely did.

And he never dared utter such words again. And you were proud your punishment set him straight. Did you regret it? No. Would you do it again if you had to? Definitely.

And that's how the Moonboy's girlfriend mothered them all.

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 6: Drank

The morning comes quick and Yoongi is awake and getting himself ready for a radio interview they have in 2 hours. He’s been having trouble waking up in the mornings due to his heavy drinking, but this morning he wakes up feeling a bit refreshed for the first time.

He showers, has breakfast, and even takes a bit more time to plan his outfit of the day. It’s nothing special, just ripped jeans and a black t-shirt, but he hadn’t cared what he threw on lately. He didn’t even care if the clothes were clean or not.

When he pulls his jeans out of his suitcase a bracelet falls out. The bracelet Hyeri bought him that’s engraved with “Forever mine. Forever yours.” on it. The bracelet he never took off until he was in a drunken rage after he last spoke to her. The sight of that bracelet sends a sharp pain through Yoongi’s chest. Reading those words burns him to his core.

As if the bracelet wasn’t enough of a sobering reminder of the pain he’s been trying to run away from, his phone buzzes from a few messages.

[Hyeri]: I hope you have a good day today.

[Hyeri]: I love you so much and I’m sorry for all of the shit I’ve put you through.

[Hyeri]: I’ll keep telling you this everyday until I die.

[Hyeri]: Even if you don’t forgive me, can you tell me you’re at least eating well and taking care of yourself?

[Hyeri]: I miss you so much.

She’s been texting him every single day saying the same thing. She’d message him about her day as if her texts to him were entries to her diary. She’d tell him to take care of himself and that she loves him. He’d simply sigh at her message, get pissed that she’s on his mind and has him hurting again, then has a drink to take himself further from reality. Further from being himself, the one very painfully in love.

Despite what Jungkook thought was a successful time last night, he finds himself a little disappointed to smell the bit of alcohol on Yoongi’s breath when they arrived at the radio station. Still, Yoongi doesn’t seem quite as bad as he was before.

They get through the interview without incident. They move to their next appearance at a gallery. Then they check out the venue for the concert and the new stage setup they put together specially for Las Vegas.

Hyeri had been aware of the guys radio appearance. She stayed up late and managed to find a stream that let her listen to the show from Seoul. She just wanted to hear Yoongi’s voice, even if the most talking he did was say his name. She cries listening to the interview, and when it’s over she sends him another text telling him how good they sound on the radio and that she’s proud of them.

Yoongi doesn’t pay much attention to his phone until after they leave the venue and start heading back to the hotel. During the ride he sees the messages from Hyeri and lets out a sigh. Still buzzing a little from a hidden drink he had stashed in his pants, he finally decides to reply to Hyeri.

[Yoongi]: Pretty bold of you to keep texting me when you’re dating someone else. At least that’s what you told the world. What the fuck do you want with me Hyeri? If you went back to not giving a shit and not trying to talk to me then I wouldn’t have such a hard time staying focused out here. I’m trying to get through this tour and you keep texting me like you didn’t rip my heart out of my fucking chest and spit on it in front of the entire fucking world! Why do you think you can keep hurting me like this? I gave you everything and more and this is what I get? Why do you think you can talk to me and say shit like you love me when you don’t?! You’re fucking me up, Hyeri and it pisses me off! Let me get through this fucking tour without thinking about the person who doesn’t give a shit about me! You didn’t care enough to say shit to me before, why the fuck are you acting like you care now?

[Yoongi]: I’m not the person you claim to love anymore. He fucking died the day you decided a lie to boost your career was better than the truth.

In this moment, he means that. The Yoongi she loves is gone. He’s been hurt into hiding with no intention of coming back. What remains is a shell of a man who once knew happiness. The shell of a man who no longer wants to feel.

The guys have the evening to themselves so while they’re doing their own thing they all agreed to have dinner together at a restaurant on the strip later. Yoongi couldn’t get out of going. He knows he would draw much more attention to himself if he didn’t go.

So he sits at the restaurant with his members and managers indulging in the mindless chatter and never ending gossip. He knew at least a few of them would be keeping a close eye on him, so he orders a beer and leaves it at that.

Jungkook told Jin and Namjoon about his dinner with Yoongi the previous night. Although he knows Yoongi is still sneaking drinks, Jungkook still seemed optimistic that maybe he’s not too far gone and just needs to be brought out of his funk. The rest of the guys got together and agreed to try not to say or do anything that would make Yoongi feel like he’s being babysat. And they definitely know not to bring up anything related to Hyeri. Plus the managers don’t know about anything and the last thing they want is for them or anyone else outside of the group to realize Yoongi is going down a dark path.

Yoongi fakes it well. The beer he ordered wasn’t near enough for him, but he didn’t want to take the chance of raising eyebrows if he ordered another. Everyone has been silently taking care of him. Jungkook filling his cup with water from the carafe on the table every time he takes a drink. Jin giving him bites of his food. Hobi keeping the mood light and as joyful as possible. It’s a collective effort from everyone.

Still, Yoongi is starting to feel that urge. He can’t stop thinking about the message he sent Hyeri. She never responded and he knows it’s likely because it’s late in Korea, but for whatever reason he can’t shake the nagging in his mind. Did he finally get her to leave him alone? Was he too harsh? What does he care? She didn’t care about his feelings so why should he care about hers? He hates that he cares so much.

He’s managed to distance himself from the conversation at the table and now he’s mad at himself for letting her occupy his mind again. He’s mad at himself for slipping back into the hopelessly devoted fool who only responded to Hyeri because despite the angry words he sent her, he felt a tinge of joy knowing she listened in to their radio interview. He hates himself so fucking much.

He excuses himself to go to the restroom. He needs a moment to get his mind right again. He stares at himself in the mirror hating what he sees. In the inside pocket of his black jacket he pulls out a bottle of rum that he had a manager get for him. He requested a few bottles of different things under the guise that he would have them shipped back home for friends and family. In reality, the 4 bottles of various liquors are hidden in his suitcase under some of his recording equipment, with a 5th bottle being the one he just pulled out of his jacket. After his message to Hyeri earlier he decided he may need a little assistance to get through the night.

He takes a big swig from the bottle. Then another. And one more for good measure. He gives himself a minute to get recollected but it’s difficult. He takes another drink then decides he needs to step outside for some air.

He goes out a back door that appears to be where the restaurant staff goes for smoke breaks. He stands off to the side in a dark corner hoping no one will notice him if they were to come out that door. There’s lights everywhere, but conveniently none in this particular spot that has a second level of shadowed security thanks to the large dumpster he’s standing next to. He can still see the door, but he’ll have a better chance at ducking and hiding in the shadows if someone came out looking for him.

He takes a few deep breaths waiting for his rum to kick in. He’s been feeling too much like himself and he doesn’t want to. He wants to be numb but his drink isn’t hitting fast enough for his liking. He takes another large drink from his bottle then puts it back into his jacket pocket. He hates himself so much.

“Oh!” A startled male voice rings out scaring Yoongi a little. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

A man about the same height as Yoongi with blue dyed hair approaches looking like he’s also needing a place to escape.

“It’s ok,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Are you hiding from something too?” The guy asks.

“Just getting some air. It’s a bit hot in there.”

“Oh,” the guy looks Yoongi over a few times as best he can in the darkness. “Did you ever think that it’s hot in there because of you?”

“What?” Yoongi chuckles taken aback by the sudden cheesy pickup line.

“Sorry,” the guy chuckles. “Honestly I noticed you inside and couldn’t take my eyes off of you. My name’s Davy.”

“Austin,” Yoongi says without a second thought. It’s like the name just came out naturally as if it truly were his name. He doesn’t hurt quite as much when he’s Austin. He barely feels anything when he’s Austin.

“Nice to meet you,” Davy smiles.

“You too.” Yoongi takes a closer look at Davy. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a colorful floral tank top.

“Are you from here?” Davy asks.

“No,” Yoongi replies. “Just visiting. What about you?”

“Same,” Davy says inching closer to Yoongi. “My friend ditched me for a new friend and it’s my last night in town so I was hoping to have a little fun before I leave in the morning.”

“Really?” Yoongi asks feeling the rum starting to take him over. “What kind of fun?”

“Whatever kind you’re into,” he smirks tapping Yoongi’s jacket in the exact spot where his rum is hidden. “If you don’t mind sharing a little with a stranger, I’ll pay you back.”

“How are you going to do that?” Yoongi asks reaching for his bottle. His vision is starting to fog and his mind is on nothing. Someone could suggest he rob a bank right now and he wouldn’t have the mind to decline.

Davy doesn’t want him to rob a bank though. Davy wants a taste of the rum Yoongi just willingly handed over. And a little something else.

“Cute and kind,” Davy smiles taking a drink. “I like it.”

“You think I’m kind?” Yoongi chuckles.

“Well you just let someone you met a minute ago have a sip from your private stash. Seems like a kind person to me.”

“Right,” Yoongi nods. Davy hands him the bottle back and he takes a big drink before putting the bottle back in his jacket.

“Do you taste as good as that rum?”

“See for yourself,” Yoongi smiles mischievously. He answered so quickly he didn’t even think about what he just suggested.

This is what Yoongi wants. He wants to no longer feel like Yoongi. Once again, he finds himself numb to everything except the heat that quickly rises within him when Davy attaches his lips to his. That feeling of fire being the only thing he can feel just makes it so much more powerful. He doesn’t want it to stop.

“Can I taste more?” Davy exhales pressing his body closer into Yoongi’s. “I want to know what Austin really tastes like.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi smirks. “Go ahead. You said you would pay me back anyway.”

His vision is foggy and his head is spinning. In the moment he only feels Davy. And Davy feels so fucking good to Austin right now.

Yoongi has been away from the table for a while and the guys are starting to worry. He only said he was going to the bathroom, but it seems he’s taking much longer than usual. With the managers there they don’t want to do anything to cause suspicion or concern. Taehyung decides to just go check in on Yoongi. He could just be having a bad shit, can’t fault him for that.

Taehyung enters the restroom and finds it empty. Of course it is. He can’t imagine Yoongi went far though so he steps back out of the restroom and looks around. Yoongi isn’t at the bar. He’s not mingling with someone he may know or being approached by fans anywhere. Taehyung does a full 360 look around, then he finally sees it. The back door.

Taehyung sighs hoping his hyung isn’t truly out back just to sneak a drink. It doesn’t make sense to him that Yoongi would go to such great lengths. He quietly pokes his head out the door and looks around. He can hardly see anything, but he can see the unlit corner where the dumpsters are. He takes a small step out the door and looks around more. Then he hears something.

It’s a peculiar sound, but he’s not so naive that he doesn’t know what he’s hearing. Thinking he may have just discovered someone in the middle of their back alley romp, he swiftly turns to go back inside. As he turns, his eyes catch a quick glimpse of the person responsible for the animalistic growls he’s hearing.

His heart sinks when he notices Yoongi’s hair dangling as his head is thrown back and his mouth is wide open. Taehyung doesn’t know everyone Yoongi knows, but he’s pretty sure the person on his knees deep throating Yoongi is a complete stranger. He’s frozen in place a moment trying to convince himself that he’s not seeing what he’s seeing. But he is. That’s Yoongi. It’s dark but that’s Yoongi’s face. Those are his clothes. That’s his voice.

Taehyung regains consciousness and heads back inside the restaurant. He rushes back to the table and sits down without a word. The guys look at him confused waiting for him to tell them something.

“So?” Jimin asks. “Did you find him?”

Taehyung silently nods.

“Ok…was he in the bathroom?”

Taehyung silently shakes his head.

“Where is he?” Jin asks.

Taehyung quickly points his head towards the back door then looks back down at his plate.

“Why didn’t you bring him back?”

Taehyung sighs. Telling them what he just saw means he’ll have to accept it himself, and he’s not sure he wants to. He has far too many questions swirling around his head and he thinks maybe if he pretends he didn’t see what he just saw it will all go away.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon says softly trying his damndest to read his expression.

Before Taehyung can concoct a sentence, Yoongi returns to the table. He looks a bit disheveled but begins eating as if he hadn’t gone missing for 15 minutes.

“Hey,” Hobi says softly. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods. “I guess something I ate didn’t sit well. You know how it is with foreign food.”

No one believes him, but they let it go not exactly knowing what he was doing. Taehyung can barely look in Yoongi’s direction. Even after years of living together, he’s never seen Yoongi like that. He’s sure he’s been scarred for life and would have much preferred that he caught Yoongi drinking instead.

The next morning Yoongi wakes up in a familiar fog. Somehow he passed out on the bed with all of his clothes on. He doesn’t remember much other than getting his dick sucked by a complete stranger. Again. Whose name he doesn’t quite remember. Again.

He groans a bit then gets up to take down a couple of painkillers and get himself cleaned up in the shower. He wishes everything wasn’t such a blur, but he knows it’s for the best. When he wakes up as Yoongi the next morning he hardly has any idea what Austin did. He barely even cares what Austin did.

All during rehearsal, Taehyung can’t seem to face Yoongi. He doesn’t say much and tries to hide behind other members during discussions. Yoongi doesn’t notice, he has no idea Taehyung saw him and Davy last night.

The rest of the guys know something was up last night, but none of them have any answers. Taehyung won’t say anything and Yoongi only says he had a bad reaction to something he ate. The managers are still clueless to what’s going on. Jimin and Namjoon are very concerned. Hobi, Jin, and Jungkook aren’t quite sure what to think of it. Taehyung…Taehyung wants to scrub his eyes and ears with bleach.

After rehearsal, Jin follows Yoongi to his room. He keeps things casual and upbeat, but he’s really just trying to keep a close eye on Yoongi. He wants to know what Yoongi is really up to in his room when he’s alone.

They both take a seat on the bed and continue chatting. At the same time Jin is quietly observing everything in the room. It’s a bit of a mess with clothes tossed here and there. Jin expects that from some of the other guys, but not the well organized Min Yoongi. He’s spent enough time as his roommate to know this isn’t normal.

As they’re talking, Yoongi’s phone rings. It’s Hyeri. He’s much too sober to answer her, and now he’s upset that she has the nerve to call him on concert day after the message he sent her practically telling her to leave him alone so he can focus on the tour. Still, that small infuriating part of him is happy she called and is trying to convince him to answer. Instead he lets it go to voicemail. So she leaves one. Now the small part of him is wanting him to listen to it. He stares at his phone cursing himself for being so fucking weak.

“I know you’re still pretty upset,” Jin says. “But I know you want to hear what she says. Go ahead and listen to it.”

“Hyung,” Yoongi sighs. “If I listen to it I probably won’t be able to be myself after.”

“You haven’t been yourself anyway,” Jin jokes. “What difference does it make?”

“Fuck,” Yoongi mumbles hitting play on the voicemail.

“Yoongi.” Hyeri’s soft voice rings through the phone making Yoongi’s heart hurt. “I’m sorry. You’re probably more mad at me for calling you. I’ll take it.” Her voice is shaky but she continues. “I’ll never be able to express how truly sorry I am for everything. I just wish you would give me a chance to talk to you. Give me a chance to make this right.”

The more he listens, the more pissed he is that his heart still yearns for her. His soft, weak heart wants to dry her tears and hold her close. He’s filling up with rage the more she keeps crying into the phone. Why does she have to play this stupid game with him?

“I love you, Yoongi,” she cries. “I love you so much baby. I’ve been talking with the company trying to get them to make things right. We skipped out on a promo shoot in protest today. I’m doing whatever I can to fix this, but I really want to talk to you. I miss you. I miss your voice. I miss your love.” She breaks down sobbing hard into the phone. “I love you so fucking much it hurts.” She continues sobbing unable to say anything else. After a few moments the recording ends.

Jin isn’t sure what to say. He’s heartbroken for both of them. Hyeri sounded so distraught and Yoongi looks angrily conflicted. Yoongi is very angry right now. He doesn’t want to be himself right now.

“You should talk to her,” Jin encourages. “She’s hurting and we all can tell you are too.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head. “I’ll talk to her when we get home. I’m just trying to get through the tour right now.”

“But you barely are,” Jin says bluntly. “No one says you two have to instantly make up and pretend like everything is perfect, but you at least need to talk through this. You’re not talking to her and all you tell us is that you’re fine when you’re not. You need to talk to someone, Yoongi.”

Yoongi knows Jin is right. He does need to talk to someone. He’s been spiraling without anyone to hang on to. He hates this. He hates himself. He hates that he wants to scream and cry. He hates that he’d rather be someone else than deal with the painful emotions he’s been going through.

“Have a drink with me, hyung,” Yoongi says standing and grabbing a bottle of vodka out of the drawer under the tv. If he’s going to talk about this, he’s going to need to numb himself.

“Yoongi-ah,” Jin sighs not wanting to enable Yoongi’s drinking.

“Just one,” Yoongi says pouring a glass for each of them. He hands Jin a glass and sits back down.

Jin accepts mostly because he can sense that Yoongi may finally open up to him. If he gets it out now he may not feel the need to get plastered everyday.

“She didn’t talk to me for two days,” Yoongi says drinking half his glass in one gulp. “I learned everything from Kihyun. Now I have to be the one to give in and let her talk to me after how much she’s hurt me? No, hyung, she’ll wait. I can focus better when she’s not on my mind. I don’t hurt so much when I don’t think of her. It’s better this way.”

“This is better?” Jin asks watching Yoongi inhale the remainder of his drink. “Drinking yourself to oblivion is better?”

“If I’m not on stage then I need something to help numb me.”

“But you drink on stage too! How is that different?”

“I see her in the crowd. I see her singing and dancing and cheering us on. All I can see is her and it fucks me up, hyung!” Yoongi’s voice cracks as he tries to maintain his composure. “I don’t want to see her! I don’t want to hear her or think about her at all! I told her she was fucking up my focus and she decided to call me instead of leaving me alone. On fucking concert day! She pisses me off so much!”

“That’s why you need to talk to her, Yoongi!” Jin hates to see him like this. He hates to see him upset, but even more because it’s manifesting as anger and Jin has known Yoongi far too long to know that it’s a slippery slope. “You’re hurting yourself more by doing this shit so much.” He gestures to his glass of vodka that he hasn’t even taken a sip of yet.

“I can’t be myself if I talk to her,” Yoongi says with tears starting to well in his eyes.

“Why not?” Jin can see the tears and it’s breaking him to see Yoongi this way.

“Because it’ll hurt me too much.”

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology

Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

A/N: Hiiiii! Part 3 is here. Keep adding yourself to the taglist or catch up on the rest of the parts from the masterpost. I think this story is looking like maybe 6 parts...we'll see. oh boy lots of plot in this lol enjoy hopefully and lmk what you think :)

Chapter Summary: Two demons walk into a bar and an angel greets them. What on Earth could they be talking about? There's actually no good punchline to this.

Word Count: 4.0 k | Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, horny demons and angel, 18+ maybe some brief descriptions/mentions of sex - still no explicit smut (next chapter tho...), dubious understanding of demonology in reality

Taglist | Series Masterpost

Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know

The wind rustling her drapes woke her up in the middle of one evening when she hadn’t gone out or seen anyone beside Rori all day. It had been a good day.

The moon was almost full and was one of two lights illuminating the street below the window behind her bed. She didn’t have to sleep anymore, but she still liked to. She stared out hazily for a moment and hurriedly closed the window, feeling a human sense of nerves and dread before calming down, remembering that the things that went bump in the night were now scared of her. 

Jake had been teaching her ways to skirt Hell’s system. How to get the job done without doing much. Which she was thankful for. And she’d finally run into Josh briefly a few times, but not as many as she’d like. Not for as long as she’d like. She knew he was keeping his distance. ‘Avoiding temptation.’ That’s what Jake always said when she asked after Josh.

Tonight, she was annoyed the wind had woken her. Her dream had been extra sweet tonight. Josh had sought her out, giving her sweet gifts and feather kisses all with the backdrop of the Sunset Strip. The warm sheets were kind of like his warm chest beneath his clothes. 

The next night, the night of the true full moon, Jake was at her door. He knocked when the moon had reached its peak for the evening. 

Jake had also kept his distance in the way that mattered since that first night together. He had deemed it a moment of drunken vulnerable weakness not to be repeated. It only happened because she’d whispered his favorite fucking poem in his ear—how weak was he? Practically human in that moment. He didn’t bring it up and she felt the heaviness of his silence when she had joked about the hook up the next time she’d seen him. He was to be her mentor only.

Leaning against the doorframe, an arm on his hip and his wide-brimmed hat on his head, he spoke lowly. “Come out with me.”

She can’t see his eyes, just his lips and jaw moving. 

“I’m not at your beck and call,” She rolled her eyes, a defiant crossed arm look staring back at him. A black tank top and sleep shorts sat low on her hips, she was happy to get wine drunk in her home now that she knew she didn’t need to go out all the time. 

He leveled his head with her, making eye contact now. “Come.” 

“I’m not a dog.” She remained unmoved. Rori slinked around her legs, sniffing at Jake unamusedly. The actual dog had had to warm up to Jake these last few weeks and Rori was begrudgingly okay with him since he could feel the power the demon exuded. 

Jake rolled his eyes and greeted the dog. “Don’t growl at me. I didn’t even bring my familiar…” 

Rori had not been a fan of Jake’s crow that he kept around. Y/N wouldn’t even deem it a familiar since he was really only around so Jake could shapeshift into a bird if he really wanted but Jake insisted they were close. Sure.

After a minute of heavy silence, Jake got the final word. The stare down not really going anywhere. He flashed his yellow eyes and she hated how it made her fall in line. Jake’s true nature was malevolent despite his serene facade he often operated under. She didn’t want to ever see him truly angry with her. She’d seen glimpses of it during some of their outings together. It wasn’t anything like the man she had seen inside his mind. 

“I’m your mentor. Be a good mentee. Go get dressed.”

She got dressed, grumbling the whole time to Rori and forcing Jake to wait outside as she blasted Fleetwood Mac—for some reason, Jake’s least favorite band from her time. He rolled his eyes as he heard Stevie Nicks’ voice turned up to a fever-pitch. 

“Jake.” Y/N sniffed as she pushed past him out of her door. “Altar boy name, by the way.” 

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, falling in step with her and locking her door with a flick of his hand when he noticed she had forgotten. 

When they arrived at this unfamiliar almost empty room that Jake refused to give her information on, her eyes cast around taking it all in with a vigilance she’d never applied as a human. Now she liked to know her exits, note any potential men who might try and cause her trouble, potential targets, etc. 

It was an old dark and gloomy bar, lined with wood that had been worn down by glasses and hands over many years. It seemed it had been loved once, now a shell of its former self. Maybe 10 people in total in the entire tired place. 

A bright light cast in the corner that caught her eye after a moment. Josh. He was perched on a chair at a four-top, patiently tapping his fingers along the table, nodding his head to the live music from a lone guitarist. 

He glowed like anything but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe it was just for her. She thought about asking Jake if he could see the glow. His bright white long sleeve tonight fell over him, perfectly fitted and pushed up to his elbows. The same blue jeans on his legs that she dreamed about feeling beneath her thighs every other night or so. 

She wet her lips, watching his angelic face, eyes shut nodding to the melodies. His lips slightly parted and she missed them. How soft and sweet they’d been when she’d licked into his mouth, giving him the show of his life. Forget that. She needed to be cool. She straightened her posture, looking like a killer about to pounce on her prey. 

Jake cleared his throat, watching Sal watching Josh, looking jealous that she looked at his brother with more desire than she did with himself. Not that he actually cared. She was his mentee. 

She rolled her eyes at him and followed him over to the table.

“Brother,” Jake spoke first, hands leaving his pockets to grip the back of one of the chairs. 

Josh smiled, standing, and touched his brother gently on the shoulder, “Jake.” 

Then a silence fell between the three of them. Who was going to be the first to acknowledge her? She stood exactly between the angel and the demon and she wished that Hell’s mouth would open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. Rori could stay on Earth if he wanted, she didn’t even care so long as whatever the tension was passing between them stopped right this instant. 

She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to greet Josh before losing her nerve. “I’m gonna go get a drink!” 

“You don’t have to do–” Jake starts, but she’s already disappeared in a flash of crimson and black. 

Jake raised his brows at Josh while blush crept up the angel’s face and ears, the two men sat. Y/N knocked back two shots on her own at the bar while waiting for three beers. She didn’t know what they wanted and she didn’t care. Beer would have to do. 

“So,” She drawled, attempting a more cool and collected approach now that she was back. Afterall, she was a demon who was meant to thrive in situations with sexual partners. She knew how to be cool around people she was attracted to–except, what didn’t come easy to her was behaving normally around someone she actually might potentially teensy weensy care about. She didn’t even want to think that it might be two someones. Especially when her heart was supposedly dead. 

She huffs a slick smile onto her lips, slinking into her chair evilly placed between them with the beers. “What are we all doing here? A Celestial+ Committee meeting? Immortals anonymous…bit of a problem, though,” She leans forward and whispers. “I think we all know each other?” 

“Sal,” Josh starts, his tone measured. He was trying to be kind, but she felt the tightness in his throat. 

Jake flashed his eyes to the angel, a warning. He set his hat on the table, making it crowded with the three glasses.

She settled into the uncomfortable chair, widening her legs and taking a gulp of the beer. Her top might as well have been nonexistent, the deep red lace sheer and showing off her torso and breasts. The black tight vinyl pants caused both beings to flicker their eyes to her movement as she pushed her hips towards them. Josh cleared his throat and averted his eyes, taking a grounding sip of the pale ale she’d gotten for him. 

“We’re here,” Jake starts, giving an unamused look to her as she wiggled her hips and smirked in triumph. “Cut it out, sometimes the slut schtick isn’t cute. We have something real to talk about, Sal.” He widened his glowing yellow eyes at her and she sat up, immediately shrinking again. Just as she was feeling more confident, his accusatory eyes scared the absolute shit out of her. 

Josh shot a look at his demon counterpart, unhappy with the word he had just used, even if it was to describe the demon who had led him into temptation. He had been repenting for the last three months, bathing in holy water twice as often, and an extra time whenever his mind wandered to Y/N and what she’d shown him. 

“We need to find out why you’re so powerful. Who you are.” Josh says calmly. 

“I told you already.” She insisted. “Why does it matter anyway?” 

“Okay, well maybe you don’t realize this but the way you’re treated down in Hell is not normal,” Jake sneers condescendingly. 

“What he means,” Josh intervenes again. “Is that, perhaps, you don’t know who you really are either. We’re worried…” 

“No!” She immediately shoots forward, eyes blazing with hellfire. 

“C’mon Sal, you know how fucking powerful you are. That’s not normal! You’re not normal!” Jake doesn’t sound smug anymore, he sounds a little…scared. He didn’t like not knowing. 

Josh reaches a hand out to Jake’s shoulder, his touch somehow calming even though an angel’s touch should’ve been repulsive to a demon.  

“Listen, Sal,” Josh smiles, trying to bring peace to this strange situation. “Nothing is going to change. It’s okay to be scared, but Jake is right. You are far too powerful for even a run-of-the-mill average demon and you believe you were a human turned demon. You’d have even less powers then.” 

She gulps at her beer, more than half-way through it. “Why does it matter? Why do you two care?” 

Another silence falls between them. The tension returns and she can tell there’s something they’re not telling her. 

“Fucking tell me,” She spits. “Or I’ll…I’ll, fucking…I don’t know, I’ll fucking kill everyone in here. Since I’m so fucking powerful.” 

“There’s not that many people in here, Sal. You wouldn’t really be making much of a point…” Jake shrugs. “Also, why would I care?” 

“Because I know you, Jacob,” She seethes, staring darkly into his eyes. Her eyes had been black since the hellfire had left them, she was in defense mode. “Should I share with Josh what I found in your mind the other night?” 

Jake sat up straight and instantly Y/N’s mouth was shut. Not by a look, but by Jake’s powers. It felt like he was crushing her windpipe. His voice was in her head. ‘Do not say another fucking word. How dare you. You promised.’ She immediately felt meek and her humanity seeped back into her. Regular eyes flickering back to life, she slumped in on herself, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. She was scared too. 

Josh watched the interaction, only seeing the physicality of their two bodies change. He looked up to the ceiling, lord give him strength and please don’t let anyone die tonight. “We think you might be a cambion.” He rushes it out before he loses the nerve or before Jake stops him. 

She stays silent, staring up at the angel with red-rimmed eyes–not technically demonic, simply because she had begun to cry and she wasn’t allowing the tears to fall. Jake grunts unhappily and finishes off his beer, getting up to get a refill and pointedly telling them not to discuss further until he returned. 

He came back five minutes later, silent and nodded his head gruffly for them to continue. She stares between the angel and demon again, confused and upset with both of them.

“What does that mean?” She asks, her voice soft and child-like, shaking slightly. Had her whole life been a lie? It couldn’t be possible. Why did they want to flip her life upside down or sideways or something? This second life was already confusing enough without an identity crisis.

“It means you were half-human, half-demon in your first life.” Josh speaks softly, barely strong enough to keep himself from pulling her fragile body into his own just to attempt to comfort her. He knew how scared she must be, he’d seen people crumble through history at the realization of their lives being built on lies. “Usually cambion are offspring of an incubus or a succubus and a human.” 

“That would explain your special treatment in Hell,” Jake interjects, feeling more subdued after walking it off and two shots of ‘Jamo’ himself. “But it doesn’t explain the powers. At least, not fully. It’d have to be an ancient–older than us–and powerful one to have been one of your parents and that’s just almost unheard of, even 70 years ago.” 

“Okay….” She tries to absorb the information, eyes still flitting between the two figures before her, feeling a weird sense of unreality that had never happened to her. Given all the weird shit that had happened to her since dying, it was surprising this was so hard. 

“That’s why we wanted to talk to you about it. See if you knew anything or could think about anything abnormal about, maybe, your upbringing or parents.” Josh tries, even gently soothing his hand over the one Y/N had shakily rested on the tabletop. “Anything at all.” 

Jake’s eyes watched them. The way her body relaxed at Josh’s touch. How her eyes sparkled as she looked from their touching skin to Josh’s face. Even her smile was softer with Josh. Josh’s eyes were aglow as well, an angelic white instead of a black pupil.

“Okay,” She says, looking between Jake and Josh again, feeling calmer but also, admittedly, terrified for the first time since she’d been back. “Can I think about it for a few days? I don’t think I’ll come up with anything with you two staring me down right now.” 

She didn’t understand why it mattered to Jake and Josh still but the amount of energy and emotion running through her had made her forget momentarily. Her mind was like static, the thoughts running into one another and jumbling until nothing was coherent. 

“Yeah, of course,” Josh moves his hand to rub over her back. He couldn’t help himself, he was a healer and a helper. Even with her. Especially with her. “Write things down as they come to you. It might help.” 

“Whatever,” Jake rolled his eyes, downing his beer and heading for a third. He needed to be drunk and as a demon it took a lot more work. He thought that was unfair but there wasn’t really anyone he could complain to. Maybe the big one Upstairs, but his key card didn’t work anymore. 

This night had gone about exactly as he expected when Josh had continued to pester him about it. When he returned, Josh had disappeared and Jake hoped he’d left for the night. “Can we get plastered now?” 

“Please,” She sighed, taking the second beer from Jake’s hands. “I need to dance and drink off this stress. Fuck you for this by the way.” 

“Did Josh leave?” Jake ignores her complaint about the night, looking around. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to be here either. 

She shakes her head while gulping at the beer, already moving to the dance floor that was scuffed up and empty. The live musician had left during their conversation so Jake wasn’t surprised when the old stereo turned from 2000s indie rock to 1970s hard rock. “Said he was coming back. Bathroom or something…You gonna dance with me, cowboy?” 

She grinned at Jake, already pushing the anxiety of the evening away, utilizing her favorite coping mechanism: drunken debauchery. 

He shook his head at her and sauntered closer, abandoning his beer and allowing her arms to rope him closer, pressing her hips into his. He hummed with mild satisfaction, staring at her down the tip of his nose. She stared up at him, thinking back to when he had tumbled in the sheets with her. How surprisingly kind and tender he had been to her and how she’d never seen it again. She wanted to see it again. She’d do anything to see it again. 

She ran her hand up and down his torso, taking inventory of his warmth with teasing fingers, “You owe me. That was worse than Hell on Earth.”

Jake leans his head down, lips heavy on her ear. “I don’t owe you shit, Sal.” 

She threw her head back in laughter and Jake’s arms held her waist more firmly, just to keep her from falling. Returning upright to stare into his eyes, she spoke with a saddened sort of lust. “You love talking rough to me don’t you, Jake? Just admit it.” 

“It’d be a big help if you could remember your real name while you’re writing down all your feelings later.” Jake ignores her again, allowing himself to drift his hands over the curves of her ass as she sways against him. He indulges in how the press of her breasts into his chest feels and the intoxicating scent of her perfume as he traces his nose up her throat and over her jaw. 

She whines against him. “Just shut up and kiss me if you won’t fuck me right now. I need a distraction.” 

Jake chuckles darkly, his eyes casting around the room as he tightens his grip again making her hum with a grin on her face. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, little one? In front of an audience? Sick little freak.” 

She looks down for a moment, a flicker of shame at Jake’s condescending voice before she feels the energy seeping off of him. He desired it too. She wasn’t the only sick freak. 

Jake makes eye contact with Josh at the edge of the dancefloor. The angel had been watching for the last few moments after returning from wherever he had disappeared to. He shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 

Jake decides to lean down as Y/N leans up with parted lips, awaiting his touch. He teases her, licking his tongue out past his lips but not quite touching hers. She breathes out a whine and pulls his head closer by the back of his neck and he obliges, sinking his tongue into her mouth. She melts into him. 

Josh watches on still. He can’t tear his eyes away, how their bodies snake around one another so perfectly. How she fits into him, how Jake has no problem claiming her body, touching her and alighting her skin with desire. Josh shuts his eyes for a moment. He wants to leave, he knows he should’ve walked out the door and not come back, but he can’t. She’s still here and he hasn’t seen her in so long. He knew it was a sin to be consorting with her, but, Jesus, he was already there, what was another hour or two of it? 

She pulled back from Jake’s lips, chest heaving for air that Jake didn’t seem to need. He smirked and licked his lips, moving his hand away from the back of her delicate neck. 

“C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” She tries. Her hand tightens in the collar of his shirt, needing this to make her forget her distress.

Jake shakes his head. “I’ll dance with you and I’ll kiss you till you drop, but we’re not doing that again. Never again.” 

She twirled a piece of his hair that had come free from his low bun. “Why not? We had a lot of fun.” 

“Too much fun.” He removes her hands from himself, beginning to step away. It wasn’t the fun he was worried about, it was the feeling. “I’ll see you soon, kid.” 

“Fuck you, Jake.” Anger masks the painful stab to her heart, or whatever it was that felt inside her still, at his rejection. Kid. 

“Keep dreaming,” He winks, turning on his heel and patting Josh’s chest as he goes to make his exit. “She’s all yours. Nice and fired up. Good fucking luck, brother.” He plucked his hat from the abandoned table, strutting out of the bar and disappearing instantly, as if he’d never been there in the first place. Except he had and she was pissed.  

“Thanks,” Josh murmurs under his breath, eyes downcast. He stops Y/N from running after Jake with a hand around her waist when she went to move past him, knowing that whatever fight she tried to start wouldn’t end well. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” He gets her attention, the fury fading from her eyes with one look at Josh. “It’s okay. You don’t want to fight him tonight. You’ve got a lot on your mind and it’ll only come to no good.” 

“No good is what I’m supposed to do,” She stomps her foot, petulantly but resigning to Josh’s hold. The drunken debauchery wasn’t going well and she was starting to feel depleted and depressed. An identity crisis, one rejection and likely another on the horizon with the way Josh was looking at her. 

She felt herself beginning to cry again. This time she couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Oh, god,” Josh whispered quickly, ushering himself and the demon to the sidewalk outside of the bar. The darkness of the night would cover up the sight that would raise human eyebrows. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Please.” His voice is soft, feathery and concerned. Pleading. 

“What’s the point? Why’d they even send me here? Who am I?” She wailed, her eyes streaming tears of blood. “Why the fuck do I cry blood? This is so unfair!” 

Josh wanted to curse Jake, but he knew he was already eternally damned so it really wouldn’t do anything. He shushed the crying demon who really just looked like a young drunk girl except for the red tears. Josh held her as she sobbed, blood staining his white shirt. It didn’t matter to him. He offered soothing words to her and eventually, after back rubs and deep breath exercises, she pulled it together. 

“You can come see me whenever you need, Sal. How’s that?” Josh offers as he rubs soothing patterns across her clammy back. 

She wiped at her face and her hair that was now all over the place. “Thanks, Josh. Thank you for being kind to me. Even though…I am who I am.” 

“Of course,” Josh’s voice is full of emotion. He couldn’t help it. She needed him. “Take care. I’ll see you soon.” 

She nodded and sniffed, holding her head high again, the bloody tracks on her face looking horrifying in the dark light but Josh tried for a hopeful smile. She waved and then she was gone, disappearing into the dark and empty night. Jake must have taught her his trick.

She’s not sure what made her decide what she did next. But she was a little drunk and confused and dejected and needy for attention. Rori was asleep on her hardwood floor when she walked in the door, dead to the world till the sun came up hours from now. So after 30 seconds in the empty silent apartment she turned back around, leaving again.

-

to be continued

taglist: @ofthecaravel @gretavanfreaky @sinarainbows @jaketlove @mysticalstarcatcher @whiterosekiszka @sacredjake @beingextraisfun @malany-gvf @joshysgirl

[koolkat9]

Royal Red Bros Week 2024 - Day 6

@royalredbrosweek

Prompt: Getting in Trouble || Drunkenness

Rating: T

Relationship: England + Canada (implied FACE Family)

Word Count: 595

Read on AO3

One Call Away

“Arthur…”

Matthew’s small voice called across the line.

Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking over at the clock that read 3:00 AM. “What is it, Matthew?” Arthur mumbled tiredly.

“I-I…I don’t…I mean…It was just…Please come get me…”

Matthew had always been skittish, stumbling over his words, especially when he was nervous, but this time it was different. More frantic, words running into each other.

Heart-pumping adrenaline, Arthur bolted up and ran to the door. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m coming to get you."

Fumbling with his coat and not even bothering to have his shoes fully on by the time he was out the door, he took off in the car towards the ‘friend’s’ house Matthew was supposed to be staying at.

When he arrived, he spotted Matthew at the front steps curled up, body shaking.

Parking the car, he carefully approached, taking a seat next to the trembling boy. Arthur immediately recognized the scent of alcohol. He tapped Matthew’s shoulder.

Matthew jumped revealing a red blotchy face, cheeks soaked.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, curling back into himself. “I didn’t think I drunk that much…I-I…”

Arthur wrapped an arm around him and gently pulled the teen against his side. Matthew broke down sobbing, face pressed into Arthur’s shoulder, gripping tightly on Arthur’s coat. Arthur rubbed his shoulder, holding him for however long Matthew needed.

When Matthew finally quieted, Arthur guided him to the car, and they set off for home. Most of the drive was quiet until Matthew finally started sobering up.

“Please don’t tell Papa,” he squeaked. “I swear it was just a few drinks…I don’t know why I reacted like–”

“Relax,” Arthur assured him, “I wasn’t going to tell him. And I trust you.”

It was quiet again. No music playing, only the engine of the car thrumming.

“You know?" Arthur started, "I used to get into a lot worse at sixteen. Never will forget my first bad drug trip. Wasn’t my last one either. Don’t suggest it. But…I didn’t have anyone to call like you did tonight. No one to turn to. I hope I never find you and Alfred in those kinds of situations, but…what I’m trying to get at is that I want you to call me when you’re scared like this, even if you made a mistake.”

Matthew didn’t say anything, forehead pressed against the window. Arthur gave him a side glance, keeping his attention more on the road. He assumed Matthew had fallen asleep.

When they finally arrived home and Arthur was getting out of the car, Matthew grabbed his arm.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

Matthew’s eyes were wet with tears again. “Thank you…dad,” he sniffled.

“Oh love…” Arthur couldn’t help but grin. Matthew had seemed so hostile at the beginning when Arthur first started dating his father, and though by the wedding they had come to have a somewhat friendly relationship, he hadn’t thought Matthew would ever see him as a dad.

Though giving a hug in the car was awkward, Arthur couldn’t help but wrap his arm around Matthew in a half hug, kissing his temple. When they finally got out of the car, Matthew gave him a proper one, squeezing him tightly.

“I love you,” Matthew whispered into Arthur’s shoulder.

“I love you too Matthew. And I’ll always be there for you.”

Matthew started to cry quietly again, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile fondly. Some water to help sober him up and then bed, he noted. With a pat on Matthew’s back, Arthur pulled away and guided Matthew into the house.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (29)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 / Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27 / Part 28 /

Created: March 14th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

Their Highland Games-Chele20035 (ao3) Summary: After a long work week, Katniss curls up with a new book and cheese buns. This was submitted to prompts in panem for day three, Queen Anne's Lace/fantasy. The Jabberjay And The Mockingjay-AntiKryptonite (ao3) Summary: They’re only scared, broken children when they’re alone, Katniss thinks. Damaged and weak and unsteady. Together, though...together, they are unstoppable. When Peeta returns to District 12, Katniss resolves to help him in the only way she knows how: by answering his real-not-real questions. Together, they play a game piecing their pasts together, but this time, maybe there can actually be two victors without any bloodshed. This time, maybe they can find their way to each other once and for all. (A Growing Back Together story because you can apparently never have too many) The Lady of the Woods-chele20035 (ao3) Summary: There are shades of black and white all around us. It's up to us to chose what we will and will not trust. What happens when Katniss and Peeta get lost in the woods? The Long Way Home-DustWriter (ff.net) Summary: An expanded option to the Mockingjay epilogue that takes Katniss across Panem to get Peeta back home. The Pawn-annieoakley1 (ao3) Summary: Katniss has his pearl to comfort her, but all Peeta has are his precious memories of her, and the Capitol is trying to take them away. Warnings for violence and torture. Italics are reworded excerpts from "Mockingjay". Written for Prompts in Panem's Round 3, Day 1 challenge. Visual Prompt: Peeta's Pearl. The Picture-Burkygirl (ao3) Summary: He shouldn’t have said it. Wouldn’t have said if he’d been sober. Known he was in trouble the minute the words slipped out of his mouth. -- Peeta's drunken mistake has torn Everlark apart. Inspired by Should've Gone to Bed by the Plain White T's. Written for Prompts in Panem -- Round 8: The Farewell Tour. Epilogue written for Prompts in Panem - the Final Tribute. The Pigeon Drop-Ashyblondwaves (ao3) Summary: What would you do if you came across an envelope full of money? Katniss Everdeen was about to find out. AU one shot. The playlist-deinde_prandium (ao3) Summary: In which Finnick harnesses the power of music to get back at an inconsiderate roommate...and play wingman for another in the process. Background Odesta and (eventual) Everlark. The Prince of Panem-Amelia_day (ao3) Summary: There should be a hard rule: the guy who steals your coffee order is not allowed to be attractive. Or attend the same university as you. Or be royal. The Raven and The Gods-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: Prompt 46 from Everlark Fic Exchange: Peeta, the Greek god Apollo, hears the most beautiful voice at his temple so he comes down to earth to find this beautiful maiden. Follows how this god falls in love with a mortal and withstand the trials the other gods put them through. 

[royalredbrosweek]

Royal Red Bros Week 2024 Prompts

Royal Red Bros Week 2024 will be taking place February 4th-11th.

Day 1 (Feb. 4th): Raining || Myth

Day 2 (Feb. 5th): Lost || Study Abroad/Exchange

Day 3 (Feb. 6th): Spirits/Ghosts || Secrets

Day 4 (Feb. 7th): Thunderstorm || Fairy Tale(s)

Day 5 (Feb. 8th): Badly Injured/Verge of Death || Bonding

Day 6 (Feb. 9th): Getting in Trouble || Drunkenness

Day 7 (Feb. 10th): Sleep Deprived || School AU

Day 8 (Feb. 11th): Free Day

Reminder, you don’t have to do every day, you don’t have to do both prompts, and lastly, late submissions will be accepted throughout the year. 

Make sure certain content like gore or other triggering topics are properly tagged.

Also tag your submissions #royalredbrosweek2024 and @royalredbrosweek to make sure I see it! Happy creating 

@hetaliahappenings​ @heta-on-the-books

[animatorweirdo]

When the Dragons Fly (Book 3)

Aelon helps Eweniel to bond with one of the younglings. Ramuel's host gets attacked and he is forced to run away after watching the rest of his family die at the hands of the orcs.

[] = High Valyrian

Chapter 6

Warnings: getting cold, a little language barrier, Aelon helping Eweniel bond with Aegar, violence, people dying, Smoke protecting Ramuel, burning some orcs, and running away.

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

The loud humming of the wind echoed across the mountains. More snow flew through the air. The tents built in the front yard had trouble staying put due to the wind, forcing your people to reinforce them and add more wood to the bonfires that threatened to go out. 

You watched from one of the windows, your neck wrapped in a scarf and hands protected by a pair of gloves Helena forced you to wear.

You felt bad that the tower did not have more space for the people, but it had to do since the wind was getting stronger. It was most likely that the snowstorm would arrive at night, making it too dangerous to continue the journey as there were still miles to walk before reaching the end of the road. You had hoped you would have made it before nightfall, but this just had to do. 

Helena stepped beside you. “Pew, it's really getting nasty,” she said as she was wrapped in scarves and more clothing. 

“You made the right call to get Torim’s trust to let us stay here for the night,” she added.  

“I’m glad I managed such a thing and not fright him to shoot me,” you replied. 

“Nah, he didn’t turn out bad after all. I offered him to sit with us at the fire and gave him some ale we took from the town. He did not hesitate and now he’s like we’ve been friends for years,” she said as you two looked at the dwarf who was laughing with Helena’s brother. The two being obviously drunk. 

“I guess, alcohol is a key to every man’s heart,” Helena uttered, shaking her head at the sight of her drunken brother. 

“He’s still stubborn about his eye. He doesn’t let Eda take a look even though she could give him a fresh wrap of bandages,” she said. 

“You have a gift for making friends with everyone,” you said with a genuine impress. 

“Well if I didn’t manage to make friends with you, then I would have been pretty bad at it. You actually used to be pretty same when you first came to us,” Helena smiled, gently nudging your side. You rolled your eyes at her.  

“How about you join us for a moment and relax a bit? You have done a lot this day. Also, socializing with people will help you learn more about gaining their trust, come on,” Helena said as she pulled you toward the bonfire. 

“Alright, alright…” you uttered as you followed her, joining her family and the drunken dwarf, who had forgotten his previous reservations toward you.  

Aelon returned to the fortress after helping Falconer find a proper cover from the coming storm and feeding him some meat. The wind blew on his hood, trying to blow it off. He covered his eyes as he walked inside, safe from the wind. 

He saw Eweniel sitting on the steps. In front of her sat Aegar, staring at the treats in her hands.

“Sit,” Eweniel said, but Aegar only eyed the treat. 

“Aegar, sit,” she said again.

“Aegar,” she repeated, catching his attention. 

“Sit,” she said, but the dragon only looked at her confused. 

Aelon smiled at Eweniel’s frustration when the dragon failed to heed the order again, then walked over to her. 

“Are you trying to teach Aegar some tricks?” he asked as he sat beside her. 

“Yeah, but as you can see I’m not very successful,” she answered. 

“I think I know the problem. “ Aelon grabbed the treat and then looked toward the red dragon. 

“Aegar,” he said, and the dragon looked at him. 

“[Sit down]” he said in high valyrian. 

Aegar paid attention but tilted his head in confusion.  

“[Sit down]” Aelon motioned with his hands. 

Aegar then sat down on his back feet. 

“Good job,” Aelon smiled, handing him the treat. Aegar eagerly snatched the treat and ate it. 

“What language is that?” Eweniel asked curiously. 

“It’s High Valyrian. It’s actually mine and (Name)’s mother tongue. And the language our dragons are most familiar with,” Aelon explained with a smile. “Aegar, Viserya, and Smoke are from these lands, but we decided to teach them our language as well,” he added as he petted the red dragon's head.  

“Aegar is mostly familiar with high valyrian, so he probably just didn’t understand you,” Aelon said. “Or maybe he did? He can be a bit stubborn when it comes to the common tongue,” he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I think you might want to bond with him. I don’t think treating him like a dog will work,” Aelon stated. 

“How do I do that then?” Eweniel asked. 

“It’s not too hard. Look at Rodrick. He seems to be bonding with Viserya,” Aelon pointed at Rodrick and Viserya who was comfortably snuggled around him, with her head on his lap. 

“Well, I’m pretty warm so I can see why she would snuggle with me. And I also think because I carry more food with me. I think she’s smart, and I kinda find her cute, even my mom is comfortable with her,” Rodrick smiled as he gently stroked the green, she-dragon’s head. 

“Well, she is quite handy when it comes to keeping the fire going,” Rodrick’s mother smiled as she was preparing dinner. 

Aelon and Eweniel giggled, then returned their attention to Aegar. 

“You know, maybe you could help him learn more common words. You just have to first speak in high valyrian and that.” Aelon suggested. 

“But I don't know any words in your language, “ Eweniel said. 

“I’ll help you. You can try… catch,” Aelon started. “Just say [Catch] and throw the treat,” he said. 

“Okay…” Eweniel turned toward Aegar. 

“Aegar… [Catch],” she said and threw the treat. 

Aegar caught the treat from the air. 

Eweniel took another one. 

“Aegar… catch, catch,” she motioned at the treat in her hands. Aegar stood up and prepared himself to catch it. 

She threw the treat and the dragon quickly snatched it in the air. 

The two giggled as Aegar was prepared to catch more. 

“What other words can I use?” Eweniel smiled. Aelon smiled in return then helped her learn more words to teach Aegor, and the atmosphere became joyful compared to the cold outside. 

More snow had begun to fall from the sky. The second host was struggling to stay warm and not start a fire without risking giving themselves away to the enemy. 

Ramuel was warming his hands despite the gloves he wore. He watched as the people walked around restlessly. The chiefs had not come to a decision, so the tension was becoming high. He wondered if some people were considering leaving and going somewhere else. 

He glanced toward the bushes where he had his Smoke. He had dug there a little hole so his friend would be hidden better and then he gave his friend a blanket when the weather began to get colder. He did not wish for Smoke to get sick, even when he wasn’t sure if dragons could get sick with a cold. 

Ramuel looked toward his parents, finding them standing together and whispering anxiously. His parents were one of the most patient people in Middle Earth, but even they were starting to get restless. 

His mind then returned to his friends. He felt longing for their presence. Wherever they might be, he wished they were safe and okay. 

“It’s no good. There is no way we can pass through,” one of the chiefs declared after they had looked for a spot and a timing to get past the orcs for hours now. 

 “There has to be somewhere…” Horren started. 

“Horren. Coming here was a mistake. The weather is getting worse, and if we try to force our way through. I’m afraid that will only cause more deaths,” one of the chiefs explained. “Let’s turn back or we will freeze to death here,” they said. 

Horren was quiet for a moment but after so much time trying to spot a good opportunity. He relented as there was none. 

“Fine… let us return to the town,” he answered.

However, they were too late as one of the chiefs was struck with an arrow. 

Ramuel gasped when he heard someone scream and saw orcs flood from every side of the forest where they were hidden. 

The orcs laughed sadistically as they killed every defender and innocent in their way. The whole host fell into chaos as everyone either tried to fight back or escape the onslaught. 

Ramuel screamed when he saw one of the orcs hit his father in the head with a club. Blood spilled out of his father’s head and he then fell to the ground dead. His mother cried, pulling his body away from the attack. However, she was then hit in the shoulder with an arrow, a similar one that had killed his brother. 

“Mom!” Ramuel cried, trying to help her up. 

“Ramuel, run,” she pleaded in pain. 

Two orcs then appeared to them, grinning at them. 

“Well, well, what do we have here,” they grinned. 

Ramuel and his mother stared at them with terror until Smoke jumped out of the bushes, standing in front of him and his mother protectively. The dragon hissed at the orcs threateningly. 

“What is this?” One of the orcs said as they stared at the small dragon. 

Suddenly, Smoke released a sound that sounded like a stuck roar mixed with choking and gargling sounds. 

The orcs stared at the dragon in silence, before breaking into a frantic laugh. 

“What the hell kind of sound was that?!” One of them laughed with tears in his eyes. “This has to be the weirdest-sounding dragon I ever heard,” He stated while trying to dry the tears from his face. 

“That’s more like an inbred toad than a dragon,” His friend cackled. 

“Please, spare us…” Ramuel’s mother pleaded. 

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not gonna hurt you… much,” the orc grinned as they came closer. 

Ramuel hugged his mother in fear, but then he saw Smoke do something. The dragon’s chest began to steam, but as Smoke concentrated hard, his chest began to glow with orange light. 

Smoke then roared, unleashing the hot steam toward the orcs, but then the steam began to flicker and the dragon’s steam turned into fire. The flames burned the orcs and they ran away screaming as their heads were on fire. 

Smoke released heavy coughs, coughing out black smoke from his lungs. 

Ramuel was amazed as the dragon looked confused by what it had just done. Ramuel’s mother then held on to him. 

“Ramuel. Run away. Run away from here as quickly as you can. Return to town and then go to the mountains. Find your friends and (Name),” she said as her hand was covered in her blood. 

She then turned toward Smoke, holding his head. 

“Please. Protect him,” she uttered before she fell to the ground, unable to breathe with the arrow in her chest. 

“Mom..” Ramuel cried. 

“Go! Just Go! Both of you!” His mother screamed. 

Ramuel then ran into the forest with Smoke in his heels. The boy ran away from the attack, turning back only for a moment to see his mother cradle his father before bleeding to death. Tears streamed down his face as he continued running with Smoke. 

He managed to run through the snowfall and return to the abandoned town. He then ran up to the mountain road where he saw his friends and their host go. 

Smoke suddenly stopped, whining at something. 

“Smoke, what is it?” Ramuel stopped to look, then in the distance, he saw lights. 

The wind and the snow made it difficult to see clearly, but he saw many lights approaching the mountains. There were perhaps hundreds of them. When Ramuel squinted his eyes, his heart began to race with terror when he realized the ones holding the lights were orcs. There was an orc army coming. 

“Smoke, come on!” Ramuel yelled to the dragon, and the two began running through the storm to find you and your host. 

Taglist: @natchayaphorn@kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain @maedhrosiseverything2me

[youre-a-total--poser]

Can I request something where after westview wanda goes to nat and they end up getting rlly close and getting together and end up having or adopting y/n flash foward Wanda tells young y/n like 5-6 about her older brothers billy and tommy and y/n is just asking what happened to them and you can add or changed whatever you want

Something New (Request)

Warnings: Any Let me know

Age: 5

Word Count: 643

Requests: Open

Summary: Things are changing for Wanda for the better

Requested by: Anonymous

Date: 27/07/22

A/N: Thank You to the person who requested this. Sorry it's so short I didn't know what else to write

—⧗—

The events that happened at Westview completely changed Wanda. For the worst not for the better.

Everyone that she loved was gone well almost everyone.

Wanda has been sitting in a dark, cold cabin alone for weeks. After what happened at Westview she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to be around people again.

Every day her routine stayed the same. She didn't dare change it she needed some form of structure in her life till one day everything did change for the better.

—⧗—

Wanda was sitting on the steps of the cabin enjoying the afternoon sun when a car pulled up and out stepped a familiar redhead.

Natasha wasn't aware of all that was happening till recently while she was away reuniting with her family she didn't know that one of her closest friends was losing all of hers.

"You don't have to be here. I've caused enough trouble." Wanda said standing up and walking into the cabin which Natasha followed

"So is that why you won't return any of my calls or have I done something to piss you off?"

"I didn't return your calls because I just wanted to be alone."

"But you don't have to be alone. I'm here now I can help you, Wanda." Natasha spoke softly.

"Thank you for the offer but I'm fine. I don't need any help."

"Please wanda let me help you" natasha begged.

"You're not going to leave me alone are you?"

"You know I can't."

Wanda sighed and let Natasha stay.

—⧗—

After that the bond that wanda and natasha had grown stronger every day. Natasha was exactly what wanda needed to help her.

Natasha was there to listen to all of Wanda's stories, to comfort her when she cried. no matter what Natasha was there.

The months went by and their relationship changed in a way that neither one expected. Thanks to one drunken night and a shared kiss they both realised that the key to happiness was right in front of their faces the whole time.

As time when on and everything was perfect once again. Wanda and Natasha got a small apartment together and even went on to adopt a baby girl.

Wanda never forgot about her life with Vision and their twin boys she thought about them every day and she would have loved to be here to see her three babies grow up together.

—⧗—

5 years later

You were lying in your parent's bed both of them on either side of you and you were getting read a bedtime story

"And they all lived happily ever after the end." Wanda read then she closed the book.

"Can I one day have a brother or sister?" You asked.

"You do sweetie. you have got two big brothers Billy and Tommy." Wanda said.

"Where are they?" you asked

Wanda thought for a moment. How was she going to explain to a 5-year-old what happened?

"They had to go away, honey."

"To heaven?"

Wanda nodded

"Won't they be scared since they're all alone?"

"They're not alone sweetheart they have their dad and my brother, remember I told you about your uncle Pietro and also my mom and dad too," Wanda explain

"Mommy, would you and mama ever have to leave me?" You asked. tears started forming in your eyes.

"No baby. Me and your mommy will never leave you okay." Natasha told you putting her arm around you and placing a kiss on your head.

"That's good I don't want to be alone." You sniffed

"Don't worry honey you're never going to be alone I promise." Wanda kisses your head and then puts her arms around you and Natasha.

Wanda had already lost so much and she was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that she wouldn't lose you or Natasha too.

—⧗—

Taglist - @glxwingrxse // @griffin-girl-r // @uglymammoth // @arinexeisnotworking // @blackwidow-3 // @faesvoid // @froufrousnowman // @mmmmokdok // @nighttime-dreaming // @lizlil // @babbynuggets // @ali-lie // @circle143 // @donuts2021

Go HERE to be added to the taglist

[kadekuro]

New to the find us alive fandom and you kinda seem like you know a lot about it so um

Got any fanfic recommendations

all of these are on ao3 because that's where i get my fanfixtion, but i'm sure you could find some others on fanfiction.net or wattpad! that said there's only 39 fics on ao3 as far as i've found (i went to the SCP tag and filtered "find us alive" as a term) gonna throw this under a readmore

ok, so we don't have very long fics in the fandom yet, but a lot of fans have made a lot of one shots, so here's some notable authors and my favorite from each:

Apreedulure - lots of mostly fluffy short fics, plays with some AU ideas like superheroes, or like, canon-parallel AUs where like, two characters are secretly married or something lmao, also i think has the current longest fic in the fandom on ao3?

Painted walls Rating: Gen Ships: Harlanc (implied) Summary: Dr. Lancaster and his team scheme behind Director Alves’ back Flufftober Day 6: Corn Maze

Bandtrees - fucking angsty ass, i do not partake in their writing because i have trouble with the content, but i'll recommend their longest fic if you're into that

Somebody Will Help Bandage It Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Ships: Harlanc Summary: Head dropping limply into a bloody hand, Harley groaned into his palm - the smell of copper didn’t help his racing thoughts, the unfortunate memories it felt these days like the only purpose of his existence was to try to distract himself from. In the bare bones survival objective Site-107 found itself in, nobody was clambering for more speeches about the Body Code, nobody needing tests transcribed or reports read on air - Edmund Harley’s only reason for being, at this point, was to rot in the ground and wonder where his life went wrong. -- Lancaster breaks Harley. Klein and Love try to pick up enough pieces for the both of them.

mabi_lune - 2 hurt/comfort Harlanc fics and the fwuffy one that's my jam

the drive back Rating: Gen Ships: Harlanc (pre-ship) Summary: Before everything, Lancaster drives Harley home after a New Year's party at Site-107.

Reeamathemage - lots of short character introspectives, or just small emotional moments

Taco Tuesday Rating: Gen Ships: RaddLove Summary: They finally get out. Then they have tacos about it.

with these authors pointed out, i'm gonna throw in some other fics i enjoyed!

Our Love is Written in the Stars by Mushymushroomy Rating: Gen Ships: Harlanc Summary: A quiet night in the communications office

If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me by sleepylea Rating: Gen Warnings: Alcohol, Drunkenness Ships: Harlanc Summary: Based on the scene from episode 00 where Lancaster puts a drunk Harley to bed. Harley doesn't remember what he said last night, but waking up with Lancaster’s coat and a bad feeling in his gut, he knows he has to find out. Title from I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier

The Observer by TheSaintElectric Rating: Gen Summary: “The feeling of being connected to the cameras grew after moving to England. I felt so in tune with them and how they worked: what areas they covered, how people moved from one camera to another, and where the blind spots were, that they started to feel like part of me. I’d developed a hunger for watching.” Or Statement of Ingrid Raddagher, regarding their career as a surveillance officer

Behind closed doors by greeniebeany Rating: Mature Ships: RaddLove Summary: She drug her hands dramatically down her face, pulling her lower eyelids with them. Love huffed, pushing a loose piece of hair off her forehead with the indigent puff of air. “I can’t just tell you what to say, it doesn't work like that!” Love and Radd spend some time together after hours.

also here's my fic

Redbull, Company, and Sleep by kurobook Rating: Gen Warnings: Alcohol, Drunkenness Ships: Harlanc (pre-ship) Summary: A short what-if from ep 00, on some things from Lancaster's perspective.

Anyways hope you enjoy! And don't be afraid to write something too <3

[morgue-xiiv]

for the ask game: Idiot Doom Spiral

OKAY! I been working on this one for a while so it's gonna be great. Really high concept.

This is tough, not because he doesn't have good or bad thing about him, but because like. Everything about him seems like an opinion or vibe based thing. Like okay he's homeless because he lost his keys and ID and couldn't prove he had a right to enter his own home. Is he a fucking dipshit as I've heard many people say or is he a potent reminder of the insane precarity of our lives? I think the latter. Every person I've spoken to about it has a different idea of how he could get into his own house and every one of them runs out of ideas if you say "and if that didn't work?" even a couple of times. Even the game says there should be an obvious solution yet does not provide one. Oh your landlord would let you in. What if you rented through a managing agency and the staff turnover is high so no one recognises you? How would you even CONTACT your landlord? with the phone number you wrote down and carry with you everywhere even if you're on a jog? Oh your staff would let you in at work. Suppose they don't though? Suppose the main point people are on a week long business trip or your security guard says "look man I know its you but I'm not allowed to let you in without ID I could lose my job", you're a grown man so your parents could easily be dead or very far way. my absolute favourite take was "well the supervisor in your building would recognise you!" Yeah thanks Monica Geller, tell me you're American without telling me you're American. Hell, what if all this beurocracy is HARD and lying down on a beach drinking is EASY. That's the real reason, you maybe could get in "if you tried hard enough" but everyone has a limited ammount they CAN try and traumatic experiences like the cops locking you up for asking for help sap that energy Realllly fast. You, too, are probably 4-8 comedy of errors events from homelessnessliness. It blows!

1) He's very invested in his work and doesn't accept anything that falls bellow his standards of excellent BUT his job is predominately hollow overcompensated manipulative bullshit. BUT advertising is art even if you don't agree with the art or its aims. He's focused on his artistic fullfilment rejecting low concept ideas even if he thinks they would be functional effective ads.

2) I seem to recall him rejecting fascism as 'low concept stuff' but I can't find the line now so take my word for it. And I'm not even sure.

3) IDS was a very controversial Tory scumleech who oversaw massive punitive cuts to financial support for the disabled in the UK and it's funny as fuck now to call him Idiot Doom Spiral because they abbreviate the same. (that's meta as shit sorry)

3) he seems to really appreciate the company of his friends but he clearly views himself as "above" them somehow. Buddy, you had a fancy job but you're here in the dirt those are your mates now. coked up marketing exec aint the win over drunken small business owner and professional non-caller of Abigails even when you were society approved.

4) not above a little beneficial fraud. Does however take a pen "for his trouble" without negotiating or revealing that price in advance. But sometimes it's the racist lady's monkey pen so for the love of god yes please take it I hate that pen.

5) TFC: he's supportive if you tell him you're dating Kim

6) I really feel like there's more but he has so much dialogue goddamn

7) oh he refers to his ex as a "sweet piece of ass" the objectifying misogynistic little cumstain.

8) smart enough to not drink medical spirits

9) If you tury to embark on the cocain skull quest he pretty much looks into the camer and says "not unless we the studio get More Money to make a Bigger Game!" and that's really funny. I mean kinda sad now but that meta shit is funny. I guess in narrative he doesn't know that's what he's doing.

10) he's pretty entertaining and can chat shit on all day if you keep him in booze. We all need that friend.

[heecase]

Midnight Rain Chapter 5: Drunken Confessions

Synopsis: You've always been a planner. You had your whole life planned out, but Heeseung breaking up with you for a chance to become an idol wasn't apart of your plan. So now you're stuck with supporting him from afar. Until a college boy sweeps you off your feet. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Then why were you still yearning for your first love? Pairing: Idol! Heeseung x Fem! Reader; Nonidol! Yeonjun x Fem! Reader Word Count: 2.7k Genre: Angst, Fluff Warnings: Heartbreak; Toxic Relationships; Domestic Violence; Physical Violence; Bruises mentioned; Gaslighting; Panic Attacks and Nightmares;

A/N: The story is all fiction, please don't take any depictions of the boys to heart. New chapters will be uploaded once a week. Any feedback is welcomed! Please enjoy~

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Your relationship with Yeonjun wasn't always so black and white. In the first few years, everything felt like a dream, he made you feel like being with him meant nothing was impossible. Like he would bend the will of god just to get you what you wanted. On top of that he was charming and adventurous, which was the push you needed to get out of your comfort zone. He made you want to go to frat parties and let loose on a Friday night, instead of curling up on the couch with some snacks and watching Enhypen content or the latest kdrama. He was like a storm designed to sweep you off your feet and make you live dangerously for once. However, once university ended and the pressures of the real world started, that was when the rose tinted glasses finally got removed. Yeonjun was 2 years older than you so he was already a junior when you started dating, but he ended up failing some classes and stayed at the university for another year and a half longer than he was supposed to. Which meant, he only graduated a semester before you did.

After your graduation, you two decided to move in together. Mainly because you noticed how Yeonjun was having trouble finding a job plus he was estranged from his family, so he didn’t have anyone else to support him. You still had money saved up from your part time job at the library and your internship, so you thought it would be enough to get both of you by until Yeonjun got a steady job.  In the beginning you didn’t mind how things were, you loved him after all, but things never got better. The situation only ever got worse. 

He was constantly out job hunting, while you went to work at your current company. You were lucky enough to snag an internship at Kakao Entertainment in your last year of university and they liked you enough to offer you a full time position once you graduated, which you gladly accepted. But that meant, you had a job where you were making steady income, while Yeonjun was doing the opposite and he never liked feeling inferior, especially to you.

It took him almost a year after graduation to finally get a job in marketing, but the company culture was ruthless and he ended up quitting the job just 6 months in. Which led to your first ever real fight.

“Why did you quit before you got another job?! What am I supposed to do about rent for next month?” You sighed frustratingly running a hand through your hair.

“What was I supposed to do? Stand there and listen to them belittle me for the 100th time that day? You didn’t hear what they were saying about me. I fucking hate it when they make it look like I’m stupid. I’m not fucking stupid.” He defended but the argument was on deaf ears.

“You couldn’t handle having your ego hit so now we might not be able to afford rent. This is ridiculous, Yeonjun.” You sighed.

“My ego? Do you even care about the fact that they were talking shit about me to my face?” He furrowed his brows, slowly getting angrier and angrier as the conversation continued.

“Of course, I do. I just don’t think you went about it the right way.”

“Well what would you have done, little miss perfect? Since I went about it the wrong way, what would be right in your book?” He taunted, making you angrier as well.

“I would’ve at least had another job lined up before quitting and putting both of us in this position.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples to ease the ache that was forming.

“I hate that about you. I hate that you always think you’re better than me.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m better than you-”

“Yes, you fucking do!” He cut you off. “I get it. I fucked up and I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the better of me but that doesn’t give you the right to berate me too.” He angrily slammed his hands down on the kitchen island, making you jump in the process. “I don’t fucking need this right now.” He growled before exiting the apartment. 

You didn’t go after him, thinking you both needed the space to sort out your emotions before talking it out again. The next day, Yeonjun came back with flowers and an apology. You accepted and believed him when he told you he would try harder to find a decent job. But it was hard for him to get his foot through the door of any established company, especially since he didn’t have much experience. He ended up working odd jobs to help with the living expenses as he continued to job hunt. In the beginning, you thought that he had really changed but as he kept getting rejected from every company he applied to, he started going back to his old ways. Yeonjun wasn’t ever physically abusive towards you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t emotionally abusive.

Every time he came home drunk, you would get angry at him which would piss him off as well. The arguments always led to one of you sleeping on the couch, or sometimes you would leave and stay with Chaewon or he would go to his friend’s house for the night. The one thing that never changed was the following day a bouquet of flowers would appear along with an apology. This cycle continued until he landed his current job. Since they were just beginning to get their feet off the ground, he was nose deep in work and the arguments eventually stopped. But they weren’t the only things to end. His attention and affection towards you also stopped all together. 

“Y/n, I miss you.” Yeonjun said, as he made his way towards you. You were backed up to a wall with no room for escaping. “Don’t do this to me. We love each other. We shouldn’t fight anymore.”

“Yeonjun, we both know that that love ended a long time ago.” You said, as he caged your body in between his arms.

“No, I won’t let you go. We need each other.” His hands wrapped around the base of your shoulders. “Everything will be okay as long as we’re together.” You felt his hands move from your shoulder up to your neck as your breath was ripped from your lungs.

“Let me go! Yeonjun, you’re hurting me!” You struggled against his hold as you felt his fingers dig into the sides of your neck, blocking any air from reaching your burning lungs.

“If you want to end things then fine. We can end it together.” His eyes looked dead as you stared into them, continuing to struggle. 

“Let me go! Let go of me!” Your body jerked awake as you felt strong arms wrap around you.

“Shhh.. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Heeseung whispered into your ear as he held you. “Heeseung?” You pulled away from him to look at his tired face.

“You had a nightmare. I heard you screaming so I came to check on you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks as he wiped the tears from your face. 

His brows knitted together with worry. You’ve only been at his dorm for two days and every time you try to sleep, you wake up screaming. He insisted you stay here for a couple more days when you tried to leave after you woke up screaming on the first night. He doesn’t want you to be alone. He doesn’t want you to have a nightmare and wake up with no one there to tell you it’s okay, that you’re okay now. So he’ll keep you here as long as he can. Even if that’s selfish of him.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to get your bearings. 

“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep yet.” 

“What were you doing? It’s so late. Don’t you have work tomorrow?” You asked, glancing at the digital clock on his bedside table. 3:35AM.

“I’ll be fine. I was just having a beer. I-uh, couldn’t sleep. Had too many thoughts in my head.” His hands held yours as he continued to sooth you.

“Want some company? I could use the distraction.”

“Sure.” You exchanged small smiles as he led you back into the living room where you saw a pillow and blanket thrown roughly on the couch. There were multiple cans of beer and various snacks scattered across the coffee table, which you assume was where Heeseung was doing his thinking. He left you to sit as he went to the kitchen to get more beer. 

“I hope this one is okay.” He handed you the cold can, after opening it for you.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” You chuckled slightly at how awkward he was being.

“So do you want to talk about your nightmares?” He glanced at you, taking a sip of his beer to hide his expression. You reluctantly tell him about your nightmares and how they always end with Yeonjun trying to strangle you. “He’s really a piece of shit, isn’t he? He’s even hurting you in your sleep.” He frowned.

“It wasn’t always like this. He used to make me feel like if I wanted the world, he would do everything in his power to get it for me. But people change and circumstances do too” You looked down at the can on your lap as a sad smile graced your lips.

“It’s his loss anyways. He doesn’t deserve your pity. Not after what he’s done.” Heeseung’s eyes shined with rage as he looked at your exposed bruises. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m the reason why people keep leaving me. Maybe this is just my karma.” You pull your hair from behind your ear to hide the bruises on your neck that you know are now fully purple.

“Hey, don’t think like that. You’re never to blame for anything he’s done and I hope for his sake that he leaves you alone because if he puts his hands on you again. I can’t promise that I won’t do anything about it.” His grip tightened on the can making the metal collapse in on itself.

“Thank you. For being here for me, even though I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me.” You were too embarrassed to look at him so you kept your eyes on the beer can in front of you.

“I wish I would’ve given you the chance to be. I was young and stupid. I shouldn’t have broken up with you like that. I shouldn’t have let you leave the park crying. I should’ve-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You placed a hand over his when you saw how his body started to shake. “It’s all in the past now and there are no hard feelings.”

“But that’s the problem.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m still in love with you.” You stared at him for a second before looking away.

“You’re drunk.” You sighed, pulling your hand back.

“Fuck. Maybe I am, but it’s the truth. Ever since you left the park that day, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Yes, I had a lot going on with the survival show and I’ve been really busy with schedules after becoming an idol but there hasn’t been a moment when I’ve not thought about you. It’s been over 5 years, Y/n. I’ve had to live with the regret of letting you go for 5 years so when you ran away from me again at that party. I thought my chances of making it up to you were over. But here you are and I have to pinch myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming.” He confessed, staring intensely into the side of your face because you refused to look at him. 

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can do this right now.” You wiped your eyes as tears started to fall.

“Y/n, I’m not asking you to do anything and I don’t expect anything from you either. I just want you to know how I feel and that I promise you, I’ll be here for you from now on. Whether that’s as friends or more. It’s up to you to decide. I can be whatever you want me to be but please let me back into your life. Don’t shut me out anymore.” He pleaded, reaching out to grab your hand in his. 

Your tears continued to fall as you finally looked at him. He was looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you wanted to melt. You wanted to fall back into him but the baggage you carried was more than you wanted to admit. You didn’t want to burden him anymore than you already have. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just his career that’s on the line. It’s also the careers of the rest of Enhypen too. But just for tonight, you’ll give into your desires and you’ll leave tomorrow.

So you didn’t resist when he reached up to wipe away your tears or when he continued to stare into your eyes as he caressed your cheeks. You let your body do what it wanted to as you felt the distance close between you two. His warm breath fanned across your face as your brain sent an sos to the rest of your body. But your heart intercepted the signals as you pressed your lips against his in a slow but needy kiss. The familiarity of his lips gave you the courage to reach up and bury your hand in his hair, deepening the kiss. You felt like you were in high school again. Like no time has passed and your life didn’t take the dark turn that it did after you met Yeonjun. Would this be what it would’ve been like had you fought harder for your relationship? If you didn’t let him go? A cough made you break away from each other as you buried your face into the side of the couch in embarrassment.

“Hyung, did you not get any rest?” Jungwon’s tired voice asked as he pretended to not see what was going on.

“Uh, not really… But you’re up early.” Heeseung responded, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Yeah… I have an early vocal class before our dance practice at noon. You should get some rest before then.” The older boy nodded at him and Jungwon glanced at your figure briefly before heading to the bathroom. Once he was out of earshot, Heeseung turned to you and started giggling.

“Stop laughing!” You whisper yelled, punching him in the arm.

“It’s kinda funny don’t you think?” He continued to giggle as he pretended to be hurt by your punches.

“No! It’s not! I’m mortified right now. What if he tells the others? How am I supposed to look them in the eye after this?” You buried your face in your hands.

“It’s okay, Jungwon won’t say anything to the others. He’s not like that.” He reassured you before pulling your hands away from your face. “We should get you back to bed. Are you going to work today?”

“No, I called my boss earlier and told him I caught a cold so I’m gonna be out for a few days.” You didn’t want to admit it but you were still scared of Yeonjun coming to find you at work, but you didn’t want to tell Heeseung that.

“Great. Now you can sleep in too!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards his bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Y/n” He said as he tucked you into bed. Grabbing your hand again, he placed a soft kiss on each of your knuckles before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Stay with me.” You said, feeling like you needed his embrace one more time before you leave. “Please.” You could tell Heeseung was contemplating what to do for a second but he eventually peeled the covers back and slid into the space beside you. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he engulfed you in his arms. You listened to his heartbeat, the sound soothes you more than you’re willing to admit. After a few minutes, you could feel his breathing even out and his soft snores were heard. You looked up to see him fast asleep but looking as gorgeous as ever and that’s when it hit you.

“I’m still in love with you too.”

Taglist: @nobodyshallenter @sunsunl0ver @huening-ly @qeen123 @carmendanny2

[grippingbeskar]

First off CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE!!!!! You deserve it!!!!!!

Secondly I literally want you to write every single prompt and trying to narrow it down was so so difficult but! I hereby request:

💃 6 or 13, for javi you can choose!

🥂 1 I am BEGGING (also for javi because I am a whore!)

— god. i fucking love javi so much. thank you for requesting this wow. and thank you for ur kind words 🖤 hope you enjoy!! also i don’t speak spanish (as much as i have tried) so please feel free to correct my spelling if i fuck up. i tried to figure out where the accents go but i am an idiot. pls forgive me.

— prompts:

💃 13. there it is. there’s that smile

🥂 1. what? does that feel good?

-warnings: explicit content 18+ (semi public, hand stuff oop.) swearing, mention of death, canon typical violence.

[grippingbeskar’s 2k night out celebration!]

“Rough day, princesa?” Javi comes up behind you, his voice snapping you back to reality. You were deep into your fourth drink of the night, trying to wash away the memories of the past twenty four hours.

“You know it was, Javier.” He leans one arm on the bar, facing you, and signals to the bartender for two more drinks.

“Javier? Am I in trouble?” Rolling your eyes, you finish off the rest of your whiskey as a new glass arrives in front of you.

“I’m not really in the mood.” You go to get up, but his hand catches your arm gently. You sigh and slide back into the bar stool, depressed with how easily you just gave up. Only a testament to how weak this place has made you. If today was any indication, a slight breeze would of knocked you on your ass.

“I was kidding. Tell me about it.” His voice was as intoxicating and warm as your whiskey, and you gulped the next mouthful down to try and drown any little remains of feeling that threatened to spill over.

It had never really happened: you and Javi. It was too close quarters in Bogotá, and you couldn’t risk your position. The last thing you needed was people saying you slept your way to the top around here. Being a woman was bad enough.

One drunken kiss was all it took, though, to have your life alter its gravitational pull. He’d leaned over the bar, one he jumped after everyone else had gone home, swearing he could make the best ‘Sex on the Beach’ you’d ever had, and just kissed you. Ever since then, you hadn’t taken your eyes off him. You couldn’t do anything about it, of course, and he probably didn’t want to.

He fucked anything with a pulse, so you put all the flirty comments and longing stares to the back of your mind as best you could. If Javi was anything, though, he was impossible to ignore. Especially if there was something he wanted.

“Come on. Tell me about your day.” He looks at you over his glass as he leans closer. A mixture of cigarettes, whiskey and his aftershave makes your head feel fuzzy, and you want to dive head first into it. Have him take over all your senses, like he did with that one, stupid, life altering kiss.

“You’re mocking me.” You try your best to keep your face blank when he laughs, smiling down at you. Shit— he was so close.

“Never, princesa. God knows I’ve had my fair share of bad days out here. This place will suck you dry if you let it.” There’s a tone in his voice, one of sincerity that you so often don’t get to hear. Your face gets warmer, and you take another sip from your glass.

“Everything just— went to shit, basically. No one followed the plans, a bomb went off in the east building and scattered everyone, La Quica got out without so much as a scratch, and all we came home with was a brick of second-grade coke.” You take a deep breath. You were over it. Over being second guessed, over being seen as a liability. You should be a priority— today just proved it. If everyone had just listened to you…

“Let me guess Your plan would have avoided the east building all together?” You nod, shoulders slumped. “And La Quica was on the top floor, so you could of cut him off if you’d had the numbers.”

“I haven’t even written the report. How’d you know?” He shrugs, finishing off his glass.

“It’s what I would have done.” You nearly slam the glass down. “What?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. East side of that entire suburb is a shit hole. The back door practically opens into Escobars front yard. I would of steered clear of it entirely.”

“Exactly! There was too many variables, and you could get the entire squad in undetected—“

“If you went around back, because they don’t have stairs. You’d have to scale the building.”

“God, where were you this morning?!” You laugh, smiling up at him now that he’s stood up straight. You knew you were right— the best agent in the DEA just confirmed it, even if your superiors didn’t listen. That didn’t matter, for some reason Javi’s validation was more than enough.

You couldn’t wipe the smug smile off your face, even when Javi’s finger hooked under you chin, tilting your head up even more.

“There it is. There’s that smile.” You can’t look away, and there’s a moment where everything else disappears. Everyone in the bar goes quiet, the lights dim, it’s like some kind of dream overtakes you and all you can do it let it happen. “I thought I’d lost you for a second there.”

“I’m not that easy, Javi.”

“I know.” He shakes his head, and lets his hand drop away. The way he says it makes you think he’s not just talking about losing your smile. “You’re too good to be out here.”

“I’m good, and it’s why I’m here. If my superiors don’t want to admit it, I’ll just have to wait them out.” Javi laughs next to you, looking at you out the side of his eye as he leans both forearms on the bar. “If today was just the start, they’ll get their heads blown off before I ever need to get promoted.”

“This country has made you so brutal. Is that what you think of me when you stare at me across your office?” You exhale quickly, and you speak before your inebriated brain can stop you.

“You’re too pretty to lose your head, Javi.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could swallow them back up.

He was the flirt. He was the one always coming on to you. You were supposed to deflect, and now you had practically kicked the door down. You tried to blame it on the drink, but two years in this country has given you a much stronger stomach— at least, strong enough to handle a few half glasses of whiskey without losing your mind.

Javi hasn’t replied, but he has moved. Instead of leaning forward on the bar, he turns back to you. Sliding a little closer, his hand trails lightly, fingers grazing your arm. You can’t help but shiver in your seat, no matter how hot the alcohol is making you feel.

“What’d you just say?” Your eyes squeeze shut and shake your head, but he hums, his hand once again finding a place under your chin. You have no where to look but his face. His eyes, dark and blown out, sucking you in. “Don’t worry. I think you’re very pretty too.”

“I’m sorry Jav, I… Clearly, I’m drunker than I thought.” You fake a laugh, trying to play it off.

“I’ve seen you drink twice as much and win a handstand competition with three of our strongest agents.” You want to kick yourself for that stupid contest. All it’s done is bite you in the ass, even if it was one of your proudest achievements. “You’re not drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” He turns the seat of your bar stool toward him, and slips in between your slightly parted legs. “Javi.”

“Don’t ‘Javi’ me, princesa. We both know you wouldn’t let me get this close if you didn’t want this just as badly as I do.” You swallow hard, and he smiles. He’s not mocking you like he usually does. He’s right, too. You’ve taken down men for doing less.

No— this… you wanted this. Even with every rational bone in your body screaming at you to push him off, to get out of the bar and go home. Sleep these feelings off, handle them with your own hand like you usually do. But he was so close, and he was… fuck. He was really hard. You could feel it pressing against your thigh, and your breath shuddered when he stepped even closer.

“You feel what you do to me? Huh?” He was still holding your face, making you look at him, admit it to him after months of denying it yourself. You nod, just once. “If you want me to go, you need to tell me now. I won’t be able to stop myself like last time.”

Last time. Shit… that kiss. He was getting closer, and your resolve was slipping every inch he closed off.

“But what about… what about everyone else.”

“Fuck everyone else. There’s only you and me here.” It certainly felt like it, but you knew that wasn’t the reality.

“P-people already think I don’t deserve this position. I can’t…” One of his large hands fanned out, sliding down your spine to your lower back and pulling you closer to him. A small hint of a moan slips past your lips.

“I can keep quiet, cariño.” Your eyes flutter closed as he lowers his mouth to your ear, the faintest kiss pressed under your jaw. “Question is, how quiet can I keep you?”

The hand on your back snakes around, and slides up your bare thigh, disappearing under your skirt. He doesn’t waste any time, shuffling you around so that no one in the rest of the bar could see you, and then kisses you hard. At the same time, two fingers circle your clit, and even through the thin fabric of your underwear, it feels good. Too good for you to be in public— oh—

“Fuck, Javi.” He smiles as you moan his name into his mouth, and you can feel him get a little faster. You have to dig your fingers into his hair to stay grounded.

“What? Does that feel good?” His voice flows smooth like honey over your shoulder, and all the tension in your body redirects to the pleasure erupting low in your stomach. You are grateful that you always pick the smallest corner of the bar to sit in, so no one can bare witness to how you roll your hips into every movement Javi makes with his hands.

“Fucking perfect. God— I think…”

“It’s alright, let go for me. I’ll take you home and fuck you properly if you cum for me right now.” His head leans back so he can watch you, and everything goes still for just one moment. Everything except his hand, that never stops— christ, you hope he never, ever stops…

You muffle the loud moan of your release into his shoulder, and you can faintly hear Javi telling you how sweet you sound, a few words you don’t recognise slipping into your blissed out brain. It doesn’t matter what he’s saying because he sounds so good doing it that it’s all the encouragement you need to ride out your high. The dullness the whiskey hung on your body shatters as pleasure racks through you, and when it begins to subside, your legs were shaking on the chair when Javi pulled you back to him.

“Fuck, cariño. Such a good girl for me.” Fingers still twisted in his hair, you pull him back to your mouth, kissing him slowly. When you pull away, you feel that same dream like haze wash over you, and you start to think maybe it wasn’t the kiss… maybe it was just him that made you feel like that.

“Javi…”

“Let me take you home. Stay with me.” His eyebrows were furrowed in something like worry. Worry you would do what you did last time. Run, leave him here alone again. You kissed the crease in his forehead, and it disappeared.

Your legs were still shaking as you stood, and Javi held you by the waist as he walked you outside and down the road to his place. To anyone else, you would of looked like two drunks stumbling home after a long night, and it felt a little like that too.

Only you weren’t drunk— this was something you knew you couldn’t blame on alcohol. The stutter in your heart every time he looked up at you from his desk, the way you felt when he kissed you… it couldn’t really be explained by anything else, but for now you were content to let him guide you home, and stay in this bubble for as long as you could.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Can We Be Wrong Tonight? - Chapter Five

Pairing: Colin Zabel x Reader

Work Summary: In the wake of Missy Sager’s disappearance, you’re having trouble staying safe while making ends meet. Colin Zabel x Sex Worker!Reader.

Chapter Summary: Colin starts to worry that he hasn't heard from you.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Word Count: 1667

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @trashmaximoff @raincoffeeandfandoms @josephines-simps-fics @mrs-kai-anderson @cursedandromedablack @pappachismoth @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info.

Notes: Sorry it's been ages, I'm spinning a lot of plates rn.

---

You never texted him when you got home. Maybe that wasn’t so unusual. Maybe it was so late when you finally did get home that you didn’t want to disturb him. Or you might’ve forgotten. There was no reason to be worried.

Still, Colin couldn’t shake the creeping sensation that he’d ruined everything. He’d blurted out that he loved you in a drunken, post-coital haze. You’d just looked so pretty like that, looking up at him with those doe eyes, pushing your red dress down to cover yourself.

It was stupid. He was stupid. Men paid you to fuck them. He paid you to fuck him. This was your job and he shouldn’t have expected anything more.

As he was driving to work the next morning, a little hungover and very embarrassed, he mulled it over again.

It was your job. He paid you for sex.

Usually.

Not last night, though. You had said you’d needed it too. He’d fucked you up against a wall and you had marked up his neck with your teeth and told him he was yours. You’d told him not to worry about paying. He wondered if that offer still stood, or if he’d ruined it all when he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

It didn’t matter. He would pay you anyway, as soon as the money came in. You needed it more than he did.

He picked up the usual two coffees, plus a muffin for Mare to apologise for ditching her last night. Not that she seemed bothered by it. She didn’t even look up at him until he set the cup down in front of her.

“Damn Zabel, good night last night?” she asked, half-smirking.

“What?”

She pointed to the hickey on his neck, and he flushed bright pink. “Is that why you left in such a hurry?”

“No comment. Can we get on with work please?”

“… Fine.”

He managed to put you out of his mind for a couple of hours. He was busy with work. At lunchtime, he checked his phone and saw the open text chain with you. You still hadn’t messaged. But then again, he hadn’t either. Maybe he should say something. Just to get the ball rolling.

He sat there, staring at the phone for several minutes. He typed out a message, and then deleted it, and then another, and then deleted it too. In the end, he settled on:

Hey, hope you’re doing okay, sorry about last night, I’ll pay you next week x

He sent it before he could talk himself out of the ‘x’ at the end. Then he put his phone in his pocket and got back to work.

At the end of the day, you still hadn’t texted. He was staring down at his phone when Mare’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Zabel.”

“What?” He looked up, startled, almost knocking over his water bottle in the process.

She just sighed. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I just…”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Just what?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just getting in my own head.”

“Well,” she huffed, “try to get out of it. See you tomorrow, Zabel.”

“Goodnight, Mare.”

His mother was out when he got home, which he was thankful for. He really didn’t need to be interrogated about his love life right now. Instead, he stripped down to his boxers, and lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

You hadn’t invited him back to your place after the first time. So logically, he must’ve done something wrong then. Maybe he shouldn’t have left while you were sleeping? He didn’t know what the proper etiquette was.

Maybe you just realised that you didn’t like him enough to want him in your home?

And that was fine. Well, it made him want to cry, but he would understand if you felt that way. It’s not like he’d ever been lucky in love in the past. He put his phone on charge and rolled over, clutching a pillow to his chest. He didn’t sleep very that night. Or any of the following nights, for that matter.

*

It had been four days and you still hadn’t texted. He had sent a couple more messages, one a day so that you wouldn’t feel harassed. He felt guilty anyway.

The taste of you, the smell of your body in his clothes had faded after the first day. Now the hickey was fading too. The reminders of you were everywhere, and it made his heart sink.

Eventually, he made a choice. He was starting to get really worried. You’d never gone so long without texting him back before. Surely the sex can’t have been that bad? Surely the misplaced ‘I love you’ wasn’t enough to warrant this level of silent treatment?

So he sent you a message:

Hey, I’m really sorry that I keep texting but I haven’t heard from you. Please just let me know that you’re okay. I’ll leave you alone if you want me to, but I need to know that you’re safe. If you don’t text me back, I’m gonna come by your apartment this evening to check on you. If you don’t want me to, just say so and I’ll leave you alone. Forever, if that’s what you want. Sorry if I ruined everything.

His heart was pounding in his ears as he got dressed for work. He wanted to give you a reasonable enough time to respond to his message, so that if he showed up at your apartment, you wouldn’t be surprised. He tried not to think about it.

That was just about the longest day of work he’d ever experienced. His phone felt like a lead weight in his pocket. Mare had given up on trying to get through to him. He was about as useful as a brick wall right now. But she didn’t push. She just hoped he’d snap out of it soon.

By the time six o’clock rolled around, you still hadn’t texted back. His decision was made for him. He would go to your apartment, and hope that you were there and okay and wouldn’t slap him for coming over uninvited. That was the absolute best case scenario he could hope for right now.

It was payday. That, at the very least, was a good thing. He stopped by the bank before going to your place, taking out the money he owed you and stowing it in his wallet. After that, he got into his car and drove straight to your place. His palms were sweaty as he walked up the stairs to your apartment. When he came face to face with your front door, he almost couldn’t knock.

He hesitated with his fist raised, the look on your face when he told you he loved you bouncing around inside his head. You’d jerked away from him so fast. Colin felt like there was a fist clenching around his heart.

He knocked. No one came to the door. He knocked again, louder this time, and then stood there silent, listening. Your apartment was small enough that he would hear it if you were in the shower. He couldn’t hear anything.

Maybe you were out working? He was contemplating sliding a note under your door when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

He jumped, spinning around to face the person behind him. It was a middle-aged man, balding, with an angry look on his face.

“Who are you?” asked the man brusquely.

“I… I’m looking for Y/N. I’m a… friend of hers.”

The man scoffed. “She’s not here. She hasn’t been here in days.”

Colin felt all of the blood draining from his face. “Do you know where she went?”

“No. But she is late on rent. So if she doesn’t come back soon I’m going to have to serve an eviction notice.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” is what Colin wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, he asked, “You’re her landlord?”

“Yes, of course.”

“How much does she owe?”

“$600.”

“It’s $600 a month to rent this place?”

“You got a problem with that?”

Colin swallowed hard. “Can I pay on her behalf? I have cash.”

The man regarded him for a long moment. “Okay.” Evidently he thought it was the way he was most likely to get his money.

“And just so you know, I am a police officer, so don’t try anything.”

“Okay, okay.” The landlord raised both hands. “I am an honest man. I will give you a receipt as proof of payment.”

“Thank you. I’m also going to need to see some documentation to prove that you own this apartment, and that the rent is the amount stated.”

“…Fine.”  

*

Mare was waiting for him at the diner when he got there. He had texted her as soon as he was done with your landlord. She raised her eyebrows at him as he sat down opposite her. There were two cups of coffee on the table, and she pushed one towards him.

“Thanks,” said Colin, rubbing his hands together, trying to warm them up.

“Are you gonna tell me what this is about?”

He looked down at his coffee, as if the answer might be floating in the cup. “You remember when we spoke to Y/N about the girls who had gone missing.”

 Mare gave him a confused look. “Sure?”

“Well… She and I… met up… a few times.” She raised both eyebrows at him. “But she’s gone missing. Her landlord hasn’t seen her in days and she’s not responding to any of my texts. I don’t know what to do.” The last sentence came out as a choked out sob, and to Colin’s horror, he realised that he was crying. Mare looked just as surprised as he did.

“Okay…” She put a hand on his arm. “We’re going to find her. Just start at the beginning.”

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

The Witching Hour: Chapter 7

Pairing: Detective!Bob Floyd x Reader x Sheriff!Bradley Bradshaw

WitchAU

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Alcohol, Drunkenness, Witch Craft, Danger, Swearing, Love Triangle

- Chapter 6 Here -

————————————————

18+ Only Beyond This Point

————————————————

“Mom?” You almost sobbed at the familiar voice at the door.

Bradley stepped aside and your mom ran to you, wrapping you up in her arms as your forced back the tears.

She pulled back after a minute to examine your face, “Are you okay?”

You sniffed and then nodded, “I’m fine. Bob left, but I’m fine.”

“I know.” She sighed, “Gillian still has eyes on Bob, but they’re coming this way first. They know I don’t agree with any of this so they wouldn’t let me go with them, maybe for the best.”

“But… Bob left me so that should mean they can’t sacrifice either of us?” You were confused now, and took a step back.

“Sacrifice?” Bradley choked from his place standing awkwardly at the door, “Bree are you in trouble?” He suddenly began to walk towards you.

You switched your attention to Bradley, “I’m fine, Bradley I think you should go, it’s not a good time. I’m so sorry.” You apologised, you took Bradley’s hand and began to lead him to the door, but he pulled his hand out of your grip and folded his arms.

“You expect me to just leave after that bombshell? Who is after you, Bree?” He demanded.

You stuttered for a moment and then your mom stepped in, ushering for Bradley and you to sit down.

She took a deep breath and started with you.

“Honey, Bob didn’t leave because he doesn’t want you anymore, he left because he was scared. Scared that once they found you, you’d sacrifice yourself for him. He thought by leaving it would stop the need for any sacrifice, but… that’s not how it works, he still loves you with all that’s in him, unless that changes the sacrifice will still go ahead.”

Your mom was getting better and better at hearing people’s thoughts from a distance.

Bradley was pale now in his seat next to you, as he gulped hard, his eyes flitting between you and your mom.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised how much danger Bob was still

in.

Your mom turned to Bradley, “Honey, I’m so sorry about this, but…” she mumbled an incantation under her breath and touched Bradley’s forehead. She had performed the memory erasure spell you were meant to have performed on Bob that day under the pier. Bradley looked at your mom, confused.

“Ok, I have to go, I’m gonna go and get Bob before they do, you need to get out of here while you still can. I’ll find you once I’ve found Bob.” Your mom said as she walked to the door.

“Mom!” You called out to her as you stood from the couch.

She turned to face you, her face determined but soft.

“Why are you doing all of this?”

“Other than the fact that you’re my daughter and I love you… had anything like this happened to your dad, I would have wanted someone on our side.” She smiled softly.

“I love you mom.”

Your mom left and you stood in shock in the living room for a few seconds, before turning to Bradley, who looked confused and was trying to piece things together. You weren’t sure how much he knew or if he even held the part of his memory that contained you, so you gently stepped towards him.

“Bradley, I think you should go home.” You said softly.

Bradley’s eyes shot up to you, and then he stood.

“Who’s after you and why are they trying to sacrifice you?” He asked, his eyes now locked onto yours and his face serious.

You gasped, “You remember that?”

“Obviously! What are you talking about?”

“My mom, she… you aren’t supposed to remember that part. Bradley what do you remember about tonight?”

“You invited me to dinner, I arrived with wine, we were about to have a very awkward conversation about feelings and then your mom turned up and said people were after you and wanted to sacrifice you and Bob, now she’s gonna go and find him-“

You clasped a hand over Bradley’s mouth in horror.

“No no no, she was supposed to wipe your memory!” You mumbled to yourself, as Bradley stared at you, his mouth covered and his eyebrows pulled together. “I need to wipe your memory, hold still-“

Bradley took your hand and pulled it away from his mouth, chuckling in exasperation.

“Ok even if that was something that people could do, you think I’m about you let you? Hell no.” He rolled his eyes.

You lunged towards him in an effort to grab him but he stepped out of the way, “Bradley! Please, you need to let me!”

Bradley was full on chuckling at this point, thinking you were playing some cute game with him as you chased him around the living room.

“Stop laughing! Bradley please, you’re not safe if you know.” You pleaded again, coming to a panting stand still, annoyed and stressed in the middle of the living room.

Your eyes began to water at the idea of Bob out there on his own, and now potentially having dragged someone else into your great big messy family drama.

Bradley noticed your pouty expression, “Fine, go on and do your little spell then.” He rolled his eyes with a grin.

You rolled your eyes back, but in frustration, and summoned for him to sit down.

Bradley did so and you hovered in front of him, leaning over so you could lay a thumb on his forehead.

Without warning, Bradley placed both hands gently on your hips and pulled you onto his lap, and you hissed your annoyance at him as you fell into a straddling position.

He smiled up at you, “Well if I’m gonna forget this anyway…”

You couldn’t help the soft smile that fell on your lips as you admired his crinkled brown eyes and the smirk on his plush lips. You could hear your heart thudding against your chest wall.

“Close your eyes.” You instructed softly. Bradley sighed and did as he was told, relaxing into the cushions, his hands still resting gently at your sides.

You stroked his tanned cheeks and softly placed your thumb on his forehead, and whispered your incantation three times to be safe.

After a moment, Bradley’s eyes fluttered open.

“That was a fun game, what’s next?” He grinned, soliciting a gasp from you.

“It didn’t work?” You cried, climbing off of him.

“Obviously not. Ok Bree you’re starting to worry me now. What’s going on, for real this time?”

———————————————

You and Bradley had polished off the rest of the wine and half a dusty bottle of whiskey you’d found stashed at the back of the kitchen cupboard, and you were both at least a little tipsy as you sat on the porch, swatting at the mosquitoes that buzzed around in the lamplight.

“This is ridiculous.” He chuckled, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between you, “I’m a grown man, I don’t… I can’t believe in witches.”

You smiled, “Yeah well, credit to you that you didn’t faint when I turned that twig into a snake.”

Bradley snorted and spat his whiskey out as he began to laugh heartily. You smiled as you watched him chuckle to himself.

“I may have been this… manly… tough guy on the outside, but on the inside, honestly, I was screaming like a little girl.” He sighed, a grin still plastered under his moustache.

“You hid it well, Sheriff.” You chuckled.

Bradley had taken your news remarkably well, having not believed you at first, you resorted to showing him, and even when you had, he simply nodded, hands on his hips, and said “Well… I guess that’s that then.”

You hadn’t understood what he’d meant at the time, but after drinking away his shock on your porch, you decided to ask him. He’d responded with; “I have to watch out for you now, if there are band of witches coming to sacrifice you.”

You’d thought it remarkably sweet of him offering to watch over someone he barely knew, but he really didn’t realise that his gun and badge were no match for your aunt and her followers.

Now you sat in silence enjoying the sounds of the night. You would make a move first thing in the morning, hitch hike the rest of the way to New York and just hope Bob or your mom would be able to find you.

You wouldn’t tell Bradley, you’d just leave, it was so much easier that way. You’d come to really enjoy his company, but your heart belonged to Bob, and the longer Bradley was around the more complicating things became, the more your feelings grew.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice suddenly broke the silence again.

You looked over at Bradley, forced a smile and shrugged. “Just that things have been really up in the air and confusing these last few weeks. And then you turn up…” you laughed in exasperation.

“Is me turning up a bad thing?”

“No. That’s the problem, my hands are full, the last thing I need is someone else to care about.”

Bradley frowned for a moment as he rolled his whiskey glass inbetween his hands, thinking.

“For what it’s worth… I wouldn’t leave you.”

You looked over at him again, a little surprised.

“He was just trying to put me out of harms way. It was brave actually.” You argued.

“Yes but I wouldn’t have been able to break your heart like that. I would have found another way.”

You scoffed, “With all due respect, Sheriff, you have no idea what you’re talking about, so…” you took a swig of your whiskey and grimaced at the burn.

“I know how I feel and what I’d do to protect someone I care about.” He argued.

“You met me like… 4 days ago. You don’t care about me.” You stood from your seat and wobbled towards the door, intent on topping up your drink and avoiding furthering this conversation, but Bradley’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

You turned to scowl down at him, but your face only made him chuckle. He pulled you down into his lap again and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I care about you more than I should.” His voice sent chills down your spine.

“I can’t…” you whispered, screwing your eyes shut as his warm whiskey breath fanned over your face. You felt defeated, you really liked Bradley, but your love for Bob was other worldly.

You pushed off of him and quickly went inside, splashing your face with cold water in the kitchen sink. You so desperately needed to clear your mind.

Bradley gave you butterflies, he was gorgeous and built like a sturdy oak, but you didn’t know him, not really. You were still mad at Bob for leaving, even if he had a good reason, but your anger towards Bob was not dampening the love you felt for him.

You began to sob over the sink, muffling them as best you could through a kitchen towel, when you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You immediately stopped crying, trying to listen, trying to sense what was coming, when the broom clattered to the kitchen floor.

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It was too late to do anything, and you were both sufficiently drunker than you had intended to be, so driving was out of the question, so you pulled Bradley into the woods at the bottom of the cabin as fast as you could, pushing him down behind a bush where you could just about make out the cabin through the leaves.

“What are we-“

You clamped a hand over Bradley’s mouth, your eyes frantically searching, looking, for anything that might be coming for you, when you heard their footsteps, almost in unison as they marched up the hill to the cabin.

Your breathing quickened and Bradley pulled your hand away from his mouth.

“Is that them?” He whispered.

You nodded. In all of the commotion you hadn’t even thought to keep an eye on the bloodroot, if you had you probably could have cleared the town and been far enough away by now.

You watched as your aunt Gillian’s head appeared in the distant lamp light of your porch, followed by the other coven members. She summoned for them to stay outside as she pushed the door open, and there was a brief moment of silence, before all hell broke loose.

A bright flash of light erupted from a inside the cabin, and suddenly the windows were being blasted from their panels and glass flew in every direction. The other witches didn’t seem surprised, and a forcefield of some sort protected them from the violent blast.

You and Bradley shielded your eyes from your place behind the bushes, far enough away to be safe from the shards of glass, but close enough to feel the powerful heat as flames engulfed the cabin.

Aunt Gillian emerged, totally unscathed, but furious.

“We have to go. Now!” You whispered as loud as you could without drawing attention to yourself over the roar of the fire.

You shoved Bradley onto his feet and down the mountain, trailing after him and running as fast as you could.

Just before the height of the tree line blocked the cabin from view, you turned to look one last time, and your hair stood on the back of your neck as your eyes met Aunt Gillian’s, just before she dipped out of view.

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- Chapter 7 Coming Soon -