#he managed to drag himself around for a while before eventually disappearing one night.

[hartxstarr-art]

i like to think that before Wild Horses, the last time spike saw doohan was three years ago.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 29 of 35

3079 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

The next few days are wonderful. You all spend the time relaxing and playing and growing closer. Even Namjoon has managed to let go of his monetary hangups to spend some proper time with the family, and the sunny weather has helped to clear some of his hibernation grumpiness. 

With each passing day, you find yourself extremely tempted by each of the men around you. But you can't bring yourself to get past heavy petting, although the making out was certainly a lot of fun. 

The original room assignments have ceased to matter as everyone intermingles. Jungkook had even gotten up the courage to crawl into bed with Namjoon and Seokjin. 

Taehyung had snuck away to Jimin's room after you had stopped his hands from wandering too low. Still, somehow you didn't wake up alone, finding Hoseok and Yoongi had clambered into bed with you at some point in the night. Hobi's leg was swung over your stomach and Yoongi's arms were wrapped around your shoulders, his lips buried into your hair. 

You don't get a chance to question when they had joined you before Jungkook bursts through the door and launches onto the bed. 

"Good morning!" He chirps.

He lays on top of you, only just supporting his own weight to stop from crushing you. He scents the three of you, shaking the bed as he goes and all of a sudden the humongous bed feels very cramped. 

"Jungkook, it is far too early for you to be this energetic," Yoongi grumbles. 

"But we only have two days of vacation left," He pouts. "You guys should be more willing to get out of bed and spend time with us."

"I think I preferred when you were hostile and shy," Hoseok complains. 

The human reaches for the pillow behind his head and hits Jungkook across the face with it. Jungkook squeaks in protest and buries his face into your chest 'for protection'. You groan, as his full weight lands down on top of you, and push at him until he falls dramatically on top of Hobi instead. 

Hoseok moans as Jungkook's elbow lands on his stomach. He quickly shuffles over to the edge of the bed allowing the bunny to slot in between you. Yoongi reaches over you to affectionately ruffle Jungkook's hair. The three of you manage to convince Jungkook to fall back to sleep for another hour but eventually, Jimin and Taehyung find their way into the room with you.

They cram themselves onto the bed forcing the four of you to sit up so they could fit on properly. 

"Any plans for today team?" Taehyung asks.

"Sleep." Yoongi deadpans. 

"Not an option." The panda singsongs.

Taehyung flops across Yoongi's lap, batting his eyelashes up at the man. The jackal just shakes his head and tries to push the younger man away, to no avail. Taehyung clings to him, grabbing onto his waist. He pulls himself to eye level with Yoongi, not giving the older man a chance before he leans in and kisses him hard. 

"Come on Yoongi, won't you come and play with me?" He asks in his deepest voice. 

The proximity flusters Yoongi, leaving him floundering for an answer. The rest of you just watch on in awe of Taehyung, he is the only one who can successfully leave Yoongi speechless like this. 

"Wonderful, I'm not hearing a no." 

With impressive speed, he takes ahold of Yoongi's hand and drags him out of the bed not to be seen again for a few hours. 

Jimin takes the opportunity to muscle into the space Yoongi left behind.

" Y/N, do you want to go to the beach with me today?"  He asks.

"Sure, are we all going?"

"No, I was hoping just the two of us if that's okay?" 

You are met by grumbles from your other two bedmates but you shush them.

"That sounds great Jimin."

"Fantastic, I have packed us a picnic and it's all ready to go." 

He bounces out of the bed and straight through the door.

"Be ready in twenty." He shouts over his shoulder.

You climb out of bed and reach for another swimsuit. You are about to remove your PJs when you remember you are still not alone.

"Shouldn't the two of you be going about your days?" You chastise.

The two look at one another and then back at you.

"Nope, I'm quite comfortable here... How about you Kookie?" 

"I am perfectly fine myself Hobi." 

You roll your eyes and take your swimsuit and coverup with you into the ensuite, followed by their groans of disappointment as you go. 

________________

It's only a ten-minute walk to the beach. Jimin holds the picnic basket in one hand and your hand in the other. He takes you to a secluded part of the beach, hidden from prying eyes by rockpools and caves. He sets out a blanket for the two of you and helps you to sit down without kicking up too much sand. 

He presents you with a wine glass and pours a large serving for each of you. 

"Let's have a toast," he suggests, raising his glass.

"What to?" 

"To you, to us, to the last six months. I don't know, I just want to celebrate knowing you." He shrugs.

"In which case... To us." 

You raise your glass to meet his and then take one long swig. You bring your glass down only to find that Jimin has drained his glass completely.

"Are you nervous or something?" You ask, half joking.

"Maybe a little," He admits. 

"What about, surely I don't make you nervous..."

"No, but what I want to tell you makes me nervous." 

He doesn't elaborate. Instead, he busies himself with emptying the food out of the picnic basket. He pulls out quite the array of pastries and sweets, far too much for the two of you, but you don't say anything as he arranges it onto the blanket before you. 

He takes a chocolate-covered strawberry and holds it up for you to bite. You take it as gracefully as you can, but some juice slips down your chin. He reaches out his thumb and swipes away the drip. Without really thinking about it you take the digit between your lips and suck it clean. 

"That is not helping," He whines. 

"Sorry," You say releasing him. 

"Fuck it," He pushes the food out of the way and closes the gap between you. 

You lie back as he pushes forward, spreading you out onto the blanket as he kisses you.

"You are far too tempting," He complains "This was not how today was supposed to go."

And yet he doesn't stop kissing you, hungry for more. He undoes the knot at the top of your cover-up and pulls it down to expose your bikini top. 

"How was today supposed to go?" You ask, pushing him away from your chest. 

"Well, I was going to get you in a great mood with food and wine, and then I thought I would give you a massage and help you to relax a little, and then I was going to tell you I love you..." He confesses. 

"You were going to tell me you love me?" 

"Yeah, but this doesn't feel like the romantic plan I had in mind now, I ruined it." He huffs.

"You haven't ruined it..." You assure him, "Feed me another strawberry and let's see where we get to."

He does as he is told and picks up another strawberry, holding it up for you. Again you eat the fruit and he watches your lips like they are the most mesmerizing thing on the planet. 

"I love you." He blurts out.

Then he buries his head in his hands. 

"Jimin, look at me," You say reaching out to cup his cheek.

He meets your gaze, a longing look that speaks volumes without uttering a word.

"I love you too," You respond.

"You do?" 

"Yeah, I do, I was actually talking to Namjoon about it at the beginning of the trip. I think I'm falling in love with all of you. I couldn't imagine not having met you that day at the shelter. This definitely isn't what I thought my life would become when I left my old world behind, but I genuinely don't think I could be happier than I am right now." 

Jimin listens carefully as you ramble, nodding along like you are saying something truly fascinating. He slowly shuffles closer to you across the blanket until the two of you are sat side by side. He takes your hand in his and plays with your fingers idly. 

"I always thought I wanted to be on my own, I never really got to experience life the way I thought I was supposed to and I really was deadset on trying to provide for myself and going out on my own. But now I don't think any of that was what I really wanted. I think I just wanted to find people I actually have something in common with." 

"I'm so glad you stumbled into the shelter," He says leaning his head on your shoulder. 

You sit and eat for a little while, watching as the waves crash into the shore. Until Jimin finally breaks the silence. 

"This might ruin the romantic mood, but I was wondering why you always stop us when we want to go any further than kissing. And please don't think I'm complaining, I just want to know if we can do anything to make you feel more comfortable."

"Oh no! It's nothing to do with you guys, I promise. It's just... well... I don't have a lot of experience in that field and you guys have obviously had... practice, I don't want you to be disappointed" You shuffle awkwardly at the admission. "I just get too nervous I guess." 

"Is that all?" Jimin chuckles. "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh, but I can guarantee not a single one of us will be disappointed, for so many reasons."

"I don't think you know how inexperienced I am." You sigh.

"I mean it's not like all of us are that experienced either. Jungkook and Yoongi have never slept with women. I've only ever been with one woman before I found Namjoon. And I'm not really sure about the others but their experience could only help you feel better." 

"I guess you're right, I'm probably in my head for nothing." You agree.

"Will you let me show you that you're worried for nothing?" He asks, his voice lowering an octave as he nuzzles into your scent gland. 

"Okay... but maybe we shouldn't do this on the beach..."

He cleans up the dishes and empties the rest of the wine onto the ground. He grabs a hold of your hand and practically runs off of the beach, you giggle as you follow behind him.

You feel like naughty kids as you sneak into the house, trying not to draw attention to yourselves. Everyone seems to be engrossed in some form of activity by the pool allowing the two of you to glide past easily. Jimin stores the picnic basket so that he can come back to it later without them noticing that you have returned early. 

He pulls you into his and Jungkook's bedroom and locks the door behind you, only to push you up against the closed door. 

He once again unties the knot on your cover-up, this time allowing the garment to tumble to the floor and pool around your feet. His hands land on your hips, Using the leverage to push his crotch against you, grinding through the limited fabric of your bathing suits. His grip tightens as he rubs against you, moaning against your lips. 

He stops himself shortly after, pulling you with him to the bed. He lies back and drags you on top of him as he goes. 

"You're so beautiful." He says with stars in his eyes as he gazes up at you.

You blush and hide your face in the nape of his neck, taking a deep breath of his rosemary scent. 

"I'm going to make you feel so good." He says.

He grabs ahold of your bum and rolls you both over. He bites at your neck and makes his way down, barely stopping at your breasts, racing towards his primary goal, and this time you don't stop him. 

His fingers curl around the waistband of your swimwear, pulling it straight down and away from your heat. You press your legs together out of instinct, not used to being on display. Your husband was more of a lights-off kind of lover. 

Jimin isn't willing to put up with your bout of shyness, he playfully slaps your thigh and pries them apart so he can shuffle in between. You can see his eyes poking above your mound, it makes you want to shut your eyes and hide away.

"Put your hands in my hair and tell me where you want me to go." He directs your hands for you and you thread your fingers into his red locks.

His tongue darts out and flicks at your clit making you jump, your hands tighten in his hair and you pull him closer on instinct. He takes that as an invitation, chuckling as he noses deeper between your folds lapping greedily. You can't hold in the moan as his tongue stiffens against your clit drawing circles into the sensitive nerves. 

One of his hands shoots up to cover your mouth as his other arm hooks around your thigh to give him better access.

"If you aren't quiet they are going to work out we are home. Jungkook's hearing is far too good with those bunny ears of his." He points out.

You glance down to nod at him but are met with the image of Jimin with his hair a mess and you dripping from his chin, it's positively sinful. He doesn't give you another moment to breathe before diving back in. He brings his hand back from your mouth, trusting you to keep yourself quiet as he continues. He uses his newly free hand to tease you further, his pointer finger circles your hole, thoroughly wetting it before slipping it inside. 

It doesn't take long for him to add a second finger, curling them in a come hither motion in time to the movements of his tongue. You can feel the heat building quickly in your stomach, you use your leverage on his hair to tilt him into a better position, and he obeys beautifully, going exactly where you direct him. 

His tongue begins to move quicker the closer you get, you tug harshly on his hair as you bite at your lip desperately trying to keep the noises in as you topple over the edge into your orgasm. 

You are both panting as he pulls away. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then spreads it onto the bed, promising to wash it when he gets the chance. Then his face is in front of yours and he is kissing you, his lips still taste like the remnants of you. He barely pulls away as he reaches down to free himself from the confines of his own swimsuit. You take the opportunity to pull at the ties from your top, letting your chest free and tossing the flimsy fabric across the room. 

"Are you sure you're ready for this? We can stop right now if you want," He checks

"I want this, I want you," You confirm.

He kisses you once more before leaning over to the bedside table and pulling out a condom. He rolls the rubber on with practised ease and rubs his cock against your folds to coat himself in you before lining himself up to you. 

He takes his time sinking into you, a look akin to pain on his face. He bites his lip as he struggles to keep himself from bottoming out too quickly. You want to look away from him, but he looks so pretty with his eyes scrunched up in concentration. Your hips buck upwards to meet him involuntarily. He curses under his breath as you take the last inch. 

His mouth lowers to your collarbones as he gets comfortable, and his hips wriggle impatiently as he tries to focus on kissing along your decolletage. You claw at his back trying to encourage him to move, but his resolve is much stronger than yours. He only begins to thrust shallowly when he is sure you are ready. 

His speed grows gradually and your own hips rise in time with him, intuitively wanting to be closer to him. 

"I thought you said you were inexperienced," He groaned.

His hips start to move even faster, the rhythm becoming sloppy as it's clear he's close to his end. One of his hands makes its way between the two of you circling your clit with his thumb. His hips change angles slightly without the support of both arms. He hits deeper each time. The now familiar heat builds once more in your stomach and you can feel the moan building in your throat ready to escape. 

Like he can sense it, his mouth covers yours swallowing the moan as you cum, and he follows seconds after you.  With no strength left in his arms, he flops down onto the bed next to you. Then he cuddles into your side and rests his head on your shoulder. 

"I reckon we might have about five minutes until one of them smells the fact that we are up here," He says.

"Do you think they will actually come and look?"

"I think Taehyung will take the stairs two at a time. And there is a chance Namjoon is going to sulk even more than before." He muses. 

"Then maybe we should get dressed and go join them outside. And probably open up some windows to air out the scent..." You suggest.

"But don't you think we smell so pretty together?" He pouts. "Lavender and Rosemary is so relaxing." He takes a deep breath against your scent gland.

You pull away to look at him, seeing the obvious scent-drunkness in his dilated pupils.

"I think we need to get you outside Chim." You chuckle

He preens at the nickname and nods enthusiastically, willing to do anything you ask of him in this state. 

Next

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn’t have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you’re feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn’t have to be BTS

[icycoldninja]

Can you write a reader who is a jazz singer with the DMC men?

my main inspiration for this headcanon is the ‘Stay High’ cover by Haley Reinhart in the style of 1930’s vintage jazz: https://youtu.be/7hHZnvjCbVw?si=EnbZch_hwT4B-hi1

Maybe it’s the weekend when the gang decided to hang out at a local pub but since it was closed due to maintenance reasons, they decided to hang out at a random jazz bar instead. Turns out, it’s much better than they expected, it’s cozy; the drinks are delicious; the vibes are immaculate but most importantly, the jazz singer is devilishly talented with the way her singing had managed to bewitch everyone’s heart and soul. It doesn’t help when she’s quite a looker as well

Sure!

Sparda boys + V x Jazz Singer!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante was just chilling at this new bar that opened up, not expecting much, just some mediocre drinks.

-Then a song began to play and singer had one of the prettiest, sultry voices he'd ever heard.

-Dante was absorbed in your singing, and when the song eventually stopped, he had to admit, he was disappointed.

-He'd heard plenty of talented singers in his lifetime, sure, but you could beat them all any day.

-He found himself returning to that pub several times a week, not for the drinks, as the others at Devil May Cry might assume, but for you.

-When he'll actually get up and talk to you is a mystery, though.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil didn't want to go to that bar, initially, but he let everyone drag him along because secretly he wants to spend time with them.

-He was sitting awkwardly in the corner like the dork he was, until he heard a new song began to play and this lovely voice start singing.

-He was completely lost in your singing, unable to concentrate on his book, forgetting that he was sitting next to other people, and for a moment, looked up from his poetry to see the face of this gorgeous singer.

-He'd never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Standing up there, illuminated by the dim bar lights, you looked like an angel.

-Vergil really wanted to introduce himself because if he didn't, you might disappear forever, but he was just so internally nervous, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

-With some nudging from Dante the others, he managed to MOTIVATE himself enough to walk up there and talk to you. He ended up chatting with you for about 15 minutes before walking away with an ego boost and your phone number written on paper in his pocket.

□ Nero □

-Nero was supposed to just be going out for a night with his dad and uncle, not to fall in love.

-But here he was, sitting against the counter of a bar, some lame-tasting drink in his hands, condensation dripping down the sides of the glass as he stared languidly at the stage.

-And there you were, in your lovely white dress, belting out lyrics Nero wasn't really paying attention to. Your voice was all he needed to focus on, all he would ever focus on, if given the chance.

-Dante saw him ready to fall asleep thanks to your singing and decided to punch Nero in the shoulder to make sure he didn't fall asleep. Then he urged him to go introduce himself before it was too late.

-Nero is far too introverted to care; he doesn't have to talk to you to enjoy your beautiful singing voice, so he tells Dante to leave him the F alone.

-Nero keeps coming back to that bar. You've see him so many times, he might as well live there. Perhaps you will be the one to introduce yourself first.

● V ●

-V decided it would be a good idea to walk around and stretch his legs for a bit, and ended up venturing into a pub.

-V isn't one to drink, but after noticing the menu offered cheaply priced tea, he decided it wouldn't hurt to sit and relax a while.

-He watched several shows and listened to a few live songs, but none of them could compare to the splendor that was your singing.

-After hearing you for the first time, V's mind was absolutely blown. You sounded like an angel, a true celestial being descended from heaven to bless his ears.

-V relished the moment; the song had served to inspire him to wrote poetry, right there in the bar.

-While he might never go and introduce himself, but he will keep returning to this bar, just to hear you sing.

[herebecritters]

First of all, let me start by saying, Geshtu is absolutely, completely, and irrevocably insane.

Of the three, he is the least sane. Now this isn’t me saying “HAHA HES COOKOO HAHA WOW WHAT A MANIAC” No it’s not like that at all. You see, the thing about Geshtu is that he doesn’t seem “insane” at all, in fact, compared to Nergal and Dumuzi he comes across as perfectly put together.

The thing about Geshtu is that he is completely convinced by his own delusions. And he has convinced himself so fully of these delusions that he has not only sold them to himself but also to others. The voices he hears, to him, are completely real. He believes so wholeheartedly that he is a vessel for Theias voice that he puts on this complete and divine demeanor. He seems more sane than the others because he carries himself that way.

Dumuzi knows she has problems and she hides from them. Nergal definitely knows he has some screws loose but he embraces it. Geshtu, meanwhile, instead of pushing down his insanity like Dumuzi or embracing it like Nergal, he strides side by side with his.

Now let’s go back to the late Cretaceous where Geshtu grew up. Small groups of family camps were common throughout the Mesozoic, even moreso than villages such as where Cro, Dumuzi, and Nergal were raised. These groups would travel to trade with other family camps, exchanging information, intermingling, ect. But afterwards they’d return to their own family burrow to live their lives. They were foragers and hunters. Geshtus family in particular specialized in fishing and insect hunting.

Geshtu was still Geshtu. He was always a little more quiet and methodical than his other siblings, traits he’s kept with him.

So I’ve mentioned on the backstory posts before how most mammals during the Mesozoic lived nocturnally for their own safety. The large reptilian predators at the time were mostly diurnal so there was less risk of being ripped apart and eaten at night. But there are always exceptions.

One night, as the family was waking to begin their evening routines, there was a scratching above the burrow. And then the ceiling fell through.

A pack of stenonychosaurus, a species of Troodontid, had dug their way into the burrow. They had been invaded. The Stenonychosaurus pack flooded into the burrow and made short work of maiming and devouring the entire family.

Geshtu got hurt, not horribly but enough to cause him to fall and become temporarily disoriented. He would be next if he did not find a place to hide. As he frantically looked around, he noticed a beam of moonlight breaking through the torn overhead of his families burrow. The light washed over a bundle of rocks and debris that had fallen from the ceiling and there was a small gap between them. Small enough for him to fit.

While the troodons were preoccupied with their current meals, Geshtu managed to crawl over to the small opening and discreetly push himself inside it undetected. And he hid there, unable to do anything but watch and wait as his family was torn apart in front of him.

Eventually the troodons finished feeding, were filled, and left. Not much was left behind, save for a few bodies still intact. Geshtu cautiously creeped out of his hiding spot after the coast was clear and went to check on what bodies he could, hoping to find survivors. He found one body that seemed fairly intact, he dragged it out of the pile of death and tried to lift it up into a sitting position. It fell back over with a heavy thud. Blood was everywhere, his tail dragged in it, it coated his hands. No one but him was left alive among the wreckage.

Realizing the hopelessness of his endeavor he backed up against the burrow wall. He covered his eyes with his hands, hoping that by not being able to see the wreckage anymore, it would disappear. Maybe when he removed his hands it would have turned out to all be a nightmare. But when he did, everything was still as it had been.

The moonlight shone down on him from the burrows exit. Its guidance had saved him from the slaughter, so he decided to follow it again. He limped out of the burrow into the open night and made his way to the family creek that sat just outside to wash the blood off his hands. It was then that he caught his reflection in the water. The blood from his hands had marked his face and he could see it now. And, reflected above his head in the water, he saw the moon. Full and bright and comforting. He took this as a sign that the moon had marked him, and he was reborn under it. So he ceased washing it away, stood up, stared at the moon, and began to follow it.

And so Geshtu walked. And walked. And walked. Staring up at the moon the entire time. He needed to understand. He needed to know why this happened and why it had saved him. He walked for a long time. And when the moon dipped below the atmosphere and the sun rose, he’d slink into whatever shelter he could find to rest. But when the moon arose again, he’d come out, and continue his pilgrimage, always staring directly at the moon, resulting in him moonblinking himself.

The more he walked, the more the pain faded. He grew more at peace the longer he walked and stared. Like the moon herself was taking away all the hurt for him. His circumstance began to feel less like a tragedy and more like fate. Eventually, he could hear her singing. First just a light humming, but eventually he began to hear words along with it. Crisp and clear and ringing throughout him. She spoke her name, Theia.

He walked for a very long time. Probably a few years. Just him and the moon. He traveled far, restaining his markings whenever he had the opportunity. He was born in blood and would be forever stained by it. On his journey, he’d occasionally run into passerby’s and other burrows, but these meetings were short and fleeting.

One night though, the moon led him into a small village. And when Geshtu entered, he knew he heard Theia say, “Here.”

At first the villagers were unsure of him but helping other mammals traveling through was not unheard of for him. And Geshtu looked rough. He was a strange foreign vagabond with even stranger markings. But he showed them no hostility and they took him in and fed him. He was quiet but otherwise was grateful and polite.

Eventually he started murmuring prophesies to the people there. Little ones like “theia says the ridge to the west has the best seed gatherings” or “Theia warns not to go near the badlands on this night, there’s something malicious there…” and, by complete chance, almost all of these ended up true.

So now people were convinced that he really could hear the moon speaking to him and that the Theia was their friend. She was looking out for the little creatures of the night, who lived hiding in fear of the monsters of the daylight. And so Geshtu became trusted as the Villages Shaman, sent by Theia herself. He was the one people went to for divine advice

And that’s how he found his place there. He was convinced that his family HAD to die for this greater purpose. It was all supposed to happen. He was meant to come here and he was meant to save these people. The voices guide him to protect these creatures of the night, he is simply an agent of Theia. He believes wholeheartedly in everything Theia tells him. And…they say if you believe something hard enough the energy can manifest itself into reality. And so they eventually would. He, Dumuzi, and Nergal would eventually will themselves into godhood and bring forth a horror unlike any other.

[mazeruffleposts]

A Single moment

This first fic of mine was supposed to be much shorter than it actually turned out to be lmao. I just wanted a good fluff fic for my boy Giyuu TTvTT

I tried my best to make it gender neutral, not giving any descriptions about looks n stuff. I hope you enjoy it!!

Content warning: None~ Just Fluff

Word count: 1.9k

Proofread? No

A single moment, that's all it took for him. Just one look and Tomioka Giyuu realized he was absolutely in love with you. As you stand there, wrapped in his spare bedsheets, watching the rain drizzle down from your spot on the engawa with a cup of steaming tea in your hand.

It had been raining since the morning that bled into the night, starting off a harsh storm that rattled the branches of nearby trees so hard they hit the roof of his home. Thunder cracked all around as you two sprinted to his door, drenched and out of breath. Your hair stuck to the frames of your face as you panted inside the entrance. Jumping slightly as a clap of thunder rumbled much closer to the home than you liked.

It took a moment for Giyuu to catch his breath, his breath training coming in handy while he pulled off some of his soaked clothing. You however took several minutes to slow down enough to even think. The run from Shinobu's mansion had been fast, Giyuu practically dragging you half the way there as he told you "It's much closer than your home," and "I don't want you getting sick running all that way."

Without even so much of a word, the rather stoic man disappeared deeper into his home. Returning moments later he held out two towels for you. Making sure you were wrapped up before leading you through the house to the bathroom where he silently ushered you to clean up some and change into the oh-so conveniently placed change of clothes he had laid out for you.

It didn't take you long before you were dried off to the best of your ability, snuggled in the dry clothes while the others hung on the rack to dry. You wandered around, taking your time as you looked for him in his rather minimal home. It wasn't surprising to see he didn't have much furniture or decor, given he was quite a simple man. Though it struck you as odd how empty it was in here.

Eventually, you managed to find him in his kitchen standing over the small pot cooking what you assumed was a stew. A soft hum left your lips as he handed you a bowl full. The steam wafting off as the smell permeated your senses caused a low growl from your stomach. You blush as you thank him.

You both ate in silence, enjoying the calm as the weather outside continued to rage on. Giyuu's mind wandered as he watched you eat with a content smile. He never did give much thought to his own cooking, Shinazugawa had chastised him many times over how "bland" and "boring" it had been the few times he was assigned cook on their duo missions. But the look on your face, the way you seemed to savor every last bit, it made that strange flutter in his chest appear.

That same flutter that only ever seemed to happen when you were around him. It happened most often when you looked at him with those soft eyes, gave him that warm laugh of yours when something he had done amused you. But it was most intense when you would greet him with a smile. On more than one occasion, he had to stop and steady himself as his heart pounded in his chest seeing the genuine joy you had seeing him. He never knew what to make of it, even now as you sat there in front of him. So happy over something he considered a gesture of common courtesy.

Not long after eating, he led you to his spare room with a rather large futon.

"Uzui left it here the last time he had spent the night." He stated in his infamous monotone to your questioning gaze.

"And he never came back for it?" He shook his head, pulling out a spare blanket from the closet as you pulled back the covers more than ready to dive under and sleep.

A loud bang of thunder outside caught you off guard, making you squeal. He shot you a worried look, giving you that adorable little head tilt he only ever seemed to give you. With an embarrassed sigh, you took the blanket and wrapped yourself up tight.

"I've always hated storms like this since I was young... Used to give me nightmares as a kid thinking some monster would come clawing its way into the house at night."

He took a seat next to you on the futon, humming softly in response as more thunder rumbled in the distance. Taking note of how you seemed to relax some to his presence, the tension in your shoulders seeming to leave for a fleeting moment before another crack made you jump and nearly cling to his arm. Pulling away when you noticed how you crowded his space.

For a fleeting moment, he didn't hate the idea of letting you hold onto him. He didn't mind the idea of holding onto you.

Before his mind could catch up to his words, he spoke.

"Would you like me to stay?"

He seemed to be taken aback by his own words, the surprise on your face making him question why he would offer something like that.

But then you gave that soft smile, the one that made his heart thump hard against his ribs, and he's happy he offered.

"I would love that."

There it was again, his heart trying desperately to beat out of his chest. Something must be wrong with him because that shouldn't be happening. He should have brought it up when they were at Kocho's earlier. No matter now, he'll just have to run back there in the morning to get things checked out. That is if the storm calms down enough by then that he won't have to worry about being drenched again

With a soft hum, he stands and makes his way to the door. "I'll be back."

And with that, he disappeared around the corner. Practically sprinting down the hallway to his own room to get his own futon. He grabbed it and sped back to your room, giving a gentle knock on the door frame so as not to spook you with his return. You were already laid under the covers, snuggled in that blanket as you looked up at him.

Without another word, he sat his futon next to yours and got comfortable underneath as well. Only pausing after pulling the covers halfway when he realized he never asked if it was okay to do so.

You must have noticed the worry in his posture, giggling at the way he froze in place as you told him, "It's alright, I don't mind at all."

After a moment, as he let his mind calm down he let out a sigh of relief. His shoulders relaxed as he finished getting comfortable. Soon enough he could feel the silent lull of sleep start to wash over him, the gentle thumping of the rain on the roof aiding him.

However, he couldn't pass into that threshold of sleep that beckoned to him. His thoughts turned to you at every chance they got. Most of them about how truly happy he was to have you there. That you felt safe enough with him to let him lay so close. That you enjoyed his company enough to seek him out any chance you got. And most of all how the color, when normally it was so dull for him, seemed to turn so vibrant when you smiled.

How you seemed to vibrant when you smiled...

What are you doing to him?

And why was he so okay with it?

Another loud crack of thunder pulled him out of his thoughts as you shrieked, scooting yourself closer to him and away from the doors that led outside. Without much thought, in his sleepy haze, he pulled you closer. Oh, how it felt so natural to have you this close to him.

You were shaking as he wrapped his arms around you, poking his head up enough to take a good look at your face as you pulled yourself flush against him muttering a soft 'Sorry.' Giyuu hummed back 'It's alright' as he watched the tension seem to ebb away once you were comfortable again. He continued to lay there, his cheek resting on your head as he held you close. Only noticing that you fell asleep in his hold when your breath evened out.

His fingers found your hair, running them through the soft locks subconsciously as you lay there unmoving. Letting his thoughts run right back to you.

As you two lay there for what felt like minutes, he only realized had actually been hours. Completely and utterly content that time blurred until the sun began to rise. The storm had nearly stopped by now as the sky turned from a black void to a dull grey. Nothing about it though could ruin this moment, however. Even if he hadn't gotten a moment of sleep, he didn't care. He hadn't felt this good in a long time.

Eventually, though, you began to stir. Waking up in a haze as you looked up at him. Deep blue eyes gazing back down at you with a softness you rarely ever saw come from the rather emotionless man. A deep blush creeps its way from your neck to your cheeks. And here he thought you were beautiful before...

Before you could make any comment on the way his own cheeks blushed looking at you, he pulled away and turned so you couldn't see the way his face burned when he played those few words over and over and over in his head.

They're so beautiful...

He stood up, stretching to his full height as he tried to regain his composure.

What are they doing to me?

Why am I acting like this?

His attempts at calming his nerves were failing. He needs to go and walk this off, but there needs to be an excuse.

"I'm going to go make some tea, would you like some?"

It's a mediocre out...

"Oh, uhh... Yes, thank you."

With a nod, he walks out of the room and down the hall, mulling over his thoughts on why he was acting like this with you. Why do you, of all the people he knows, bring out this strange side of him.

He fills the pot with water.

What is so different about you that you cloud his thoughts?

He sets it on the stove.

When did you make him so nervous and excited to simply be in your presence?

He begins to boil the water.

And why do you make his heart beat that way just by smiling?

He pours two cups, letting the leaves steep for a few minutes. Then he grabs them and heads back to the room.

What about you is so different?

He knocks on the door and notices you standing on the engawa outside the room. Hair messy from sleep, still wrapped in the blanket he gave you. He walks over near silent and holds out one of the cups when you glance at him. With that damn soft smile, the one that made you look so kind, you accept the cup and take a sip. Turning back to look out across the forest outside. The soft light of the morning that made it through the clouds gave you an ethereal glow.

His heart flips, and something in his brain clicks into place.

He loves you.

[blondiest]

The year is 2009. The month? August. The day...? I'm so glad you asked. It's the 24th. Birthday of the specialest boy in the whole world (Near. Obviously.)

Near HIMSELF doesn't actually do anything for it, sadly. He's on that grind working with the SPK. No time. Although maybe he makes Rester go pick up a fancy lego set he's had his eyes on for a while. Still, he doesn't actually celebrate — no one there knows it's his birthday, and that's how he would prefer it. He doesn't want anyone to fuss.

HOWEVER. Across the country. In the state of California. In the city of Los Angeles. Sitting on a zebra-print couch inside a highly secret mafia base. Mello is acutely aware that it's Near's birthday. And he's annoyed as all fuck that he's acutely aware of it. Near probably doesn't remember when it's HIS birthday, and he doesn't WANT to remember that it's Near's birthday, but here he is, remembering that it's Near's goddamn birthday.

Still, he's busy, too. All his mafia shit. Collecting evidence (and stealing it from Near through Ratt). Et cetera et cetera. So he manages to keep his mind off of it. For the most part, anyway. But then eventually it gets kinda late, and he's done the things that he can do for the day, so he's about to head back to his apartment. But one of the mafia guys invites him to drink with them.

Normally he says no. Mostly because he doesn't really want to be intoxicated / compromised in front of people that he doesn't really want to have info on him. However. Going back to his apartment alone sounds kind of wretched. So this time he joins them. Except Mello has an absolutely terrible understanding of his own limits / tolerance level so he gets completely blackout drunk :/

I'm imagining he has, like, a place he sleeps in the mafia base sometimes when he doesn't feel like driving back to his apartment (like if he stays late enough that there's not a point). So he wakes up. Horrible hangover. Wretched. He tries to remember the events of the night before; nothing past his third drink (<- a lightweight). He checks his cell phone; he made three calls to Ratt, two of which lasted less than ten seconds and the third of which lasted two minutes. This immediately sets off alarm bells in his head. He's panicking.

So Mello gets dressed and drags himself out of his shitty little makeshift bedroom and starts subtly asking around for what happened the night before. Several of the men are super evasive about it, but after a few well-placed threats, someone finally reveals that he disappeared for thirty minutes and came back with a box that he INSISTED needed to go to the post office first thing in the morning.

Huge wave of cold dread. He asks if the box has already been mailed. The guy is like. Well. Yeah. It's one in the afternoon. You told us to ship it first thing. So it's gone.

Mello is in shambles over this. He starts frantically searching his little makeshift bedroom for clues of what the hell he might have sent Near. In the garbage can he finds a crumpled-up and half-legible lovehate letter. He can't read all of it— some of the handwriting is atrociously messy, other parts a bit smeared— but what he can make out is damning. There are, like, three full sentences about Near's eyes. One of the sentences describes them as "bug-like," which isn't so embarrassing for him, but the other two use words like "captivating" and "enigmatic" and, bafflingly, "celestial."

((a bit ns // fw [not explicit, just suggestive] under the cut))

In addition to waxing poetic about Near's appearance, there's an entire paragraph of him speculating on what Near would be like in bed (the words "clumsy" and "squeaky" and "lousy" all make appearances). That's not great— he doesn't really want to sexually harass / insult his lifelong rival via snail mail, regardless of how celestial his eyes are— but the next paragraph is worse.

Paragraph is a generous description— it's just one very long run on sentence. Don't worry though it's okay you're a weird awkward virgin who would give really bad head I still love you think you're cute and youcould probably learn because I could teach you stuff and as long as you listen to me you'll be fine <- only HALF of the sentence from hell.

Anyways. For a second he's like well, it's here in the trash, so I guess I didn't send it, but it pretty much immediately occurs to him that the one in the trash was a draft, because notably something still did get sent to Near. It's weird that he used a box, but then, he was pretty fucking drunk, and he probably just used whatever was lying around. He goes through the five stages of grief plus three secret additional stages (which are all just him screaming into a pillow, but with varying degrees of anguish / rage / mortification) and then just. Hopes that the letter gets lost in the mail. Tries to forget about the whole thing. Moves on with his life.

A week later, in New York City, Rester brings a package to Near. They don't get packages— anything they receive from the US Government is hand-delivered by someone with clearance, and they always have a heads-up that someone's coming. The box has already been opened— Rester had someone screen it first, had it scanned via x-ray and then opened by someone dressed in head-to-toe biohazard gear in case there was anthrax inside. There wasn't. Rester tells him there's no return address and no name of the sender. Inside the box is a single disposable camera.

Near immediately knows that there is no one it could be from but Mello— no one else who could have figured out where he was. It looks like Mello's handwriting on the box, too, though it's honestly pretty messy, even for him. He doesn't know what could be on the camera, but he presumes it's got to be sensitive information.

He tells Rester he needs the film developed. Emphasizes how important the contents of the camera are to him. It's essential that not a single photo is lost. Rester nods, disappears. Comes back like five hours later with an expression of subdued bemusement. Hands Near an envelope with the photos in it. Looks like he's going to say something, but doesn't. Leaves.

Near opens the envelope. Inside are 30 separate photos of Mello. Most of them don't show any of his face. All of them were taken with flash on. All in front of a mirror.

All shirtless.

He puts the photos back in the envelope and tucks the envelope into his shirt and goes back to work. His face feels hot for a long time after. Distantly he feels disappointed that he can't ask Mello why he went to all the trouble of tracking Near down just to send something like that, but he can't ask his employees to spend their time trying to track Mello down in return for such a trivial personal matter.

Things proceed more or less as they do in canon. Mello kidnaps the NPA director, then Sayu, gets the notebook, kills Ratt and several more members of the SPK, loses the notebook, blows up the mafia base, drags his burnt-to-a-crisp ass to New York, finds Halle. He wants to ask her if Near got a letter a few months back, but he decides against it, because he doesn't want to show his hand. After all, there's a chance it got lost in the mail, or a chance he didn't sign it (though Near would undoubtedly recognize the sender as Mello just by the contents of the letter, and the fact that the letter reached him at all). He's trying to hold onto the possibility that he did not, in fact, send a deranged, multi-page, sexually explicit and obsessive letter to Near. He has to hold onto that hope.

Except when he goes to get the photo he left at the orphanage from Near, there's a weird vibe. A vibe that he can't help but feel is unrelated to him holding Halle at gunpoint and also pointing his gun at Near. The blonde guy that works for Near is giving him an especially judgmental look. Mello gets his photo and gives Near a bit of info and gets the fuck out, but he's haunted for the rest of the day by the knowledge that yes, Near totally got that fucking letter.

So he writes another letter. Makes it EXTREMELY clear that all of the things he said about Near's eyes being captivating and celestial were JOKES, and that he DOESN'T want to fuck Near and is not in love with him. Gives the letter to Halle to give to Near with express instructions not to open it herself. She agrees, takes it to Near.

Near opens the letter from Mello. Right off the bat, he's confused, because this letter mentions a previous letter, and Near never got a previous letter. The box only had the disposable camera in it. That was it. As he continues reading, the bafflement only increases.

By the end of the letter, Near's mind is scrambled, but he has little doubt what he needs to do.

He asks Halle to call Mello and ask him to come back to headquarters. They have some things to talk about.

sorry this is left open ended i simply don't feel like finishing it. please just assume they work things out and fuck nasty. thanks 🥰

[kpopimaginings]

Stray Kids Reaction (Maknae Line) - Finding you after/during an attempt - Part 2

A/N: I definitely didn’t cry while writing these... I promise there is fluff and happiness by the end!

These are just as long as the hyung line ones, so please enjoy!

Hyung line: Part 1 - Part 2

Maknae line: Part 1 - Part 2

Han

The moments respite Han got whilst gently cradling you in his arms didn't last long. Your mood flipped again, and you began fighting to get back to the bathroom. Luckily, Han's reaction was quick enough that he tightened his grip on you before you escaped his lap. He clung on to you desperately as you started to scream and claw at his arms.

"Get off of me," you yelled as you wriggled and scratched, trying your hardest to escape him.

Han simply locked his arms around you, face pressed against your back as he held back tears. You had begun hurling verbal abuse at him as he stopped you returning to the pills.

"This isn't her," he thought to himself. "This isn't Y/n. She's not well, she doesn't mean it."

All he had to do was hold on until the paramedics arrived. Then they could help. He grasped you tightly as he prayed the ambulance wouldn't be too much longer. He loved you and you loved him and there was no way you meant what you were saying, right?

By the time the ambulance arrived, Han was little more than a broken shell of himself, sobbing as he restrained you. They quickly took over for him, eventually administering a sedative when it became clear you weren't snapping out of your manic episode.

You were both loaded into the ambulance, one of the responders monitoring you closely as the other sat with Han, questioning him about what had happened and what he knew of your mental health history. The more he was asked, however, the shallower his breath became. Eventually spotting the signs of a panic attack in the poor boy, they stopped quizzing him and comforted him as best they good while he held tightly on to your hand.

Once at the hospital, you were whisked off to a private room and Han was warned there may be a couple of days before you could receive visitors. He was offered some counselling, but he knew at that point, he didn't have it in him to go over the evenings events again, so, after leaving his contact details, he started to trudge back to the dorms.

As he walked along the now dark streets he could feel his phone buzzing like crazy in his pocket. Knowing that it was far too early for the hospital to be calling with an update about you, he ignored it. Quite simply, he didn't have the desire or energy to talk to anyone.

Unknowingly walking past the dorms he was heading for, the sound of Seungmin's voice snapped him out of his daze.

"Hyung!" the younger called, jogging over to him. "Where on Earth have you been? We've been calling all night, out searching for you-"

Getting close enough to see the expression on your boyfriend's face was enough to cut Seungmin off, now more worried than when they didn't know where he was.

"It's ok, hyung, we were just worried about you," Min's tone was now soft and comforting. "You suddenly disappeared and it's unlike you to not answer your phone, what happened?"

Han's mouth opens and closes a few times as he searches for the right words, before he broke down again. If not for his dongsaengs fast reflexes, he would have crumpled to the floor right there in street. Luckily, Seungmin was able to support him enough to half carry, half drag his now crying hyung up to their dorm.

After a quick call to those still out hunting for him all 7 seven boys were sat in the living room huddled round Han. He was curled up in the middle of the sofa bundled up in his weighted blanket. It was one that you'd bought for him so that when he was on tour, away from you, and wanted your hugs he could snuggle in that instead.

Lee Know had also managed to wrap himself around Han, trying to hug away all the pain as Jisung did his best to tell them what had happened.

"It's going to be okay Jisung, Y/n is being taken care of by the doctors and we’re all going to make sure she gets the help she needs."

"That’s right, hyung. We’re all here for both of you."

"It’s not going to be easy but she’s going to get through this, and so are you."

Han barely registered the voices around him, he wasn’t even sure which of his members was speaking. All he could do was stare down at the mug of tea in his hands. He thinks Felix gave it to him, but even that is foggy; it’s long gone cold, but he can’t seem to put it down. At that point though, looking around the room wouldn't have helped his anxiety. Despite the encouraging and comforting words, the worried faces of his brothers would have made him worse.

At some point in the night exhaustion took over and Han fell into a restless sleep. The rest of the boys stayed with him in the living room, sleeping on the sofa or the floor trying to comfort him with their presence. Any other night it would be a peaceful, heart-warming scene, but tonight a deep sadness permeated the room.

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

A few days later, Han finally got the call from the hospital that he could visit you. Immediately, Lee Know offered to drive him down and make sure he was ok. Stood outside your room with a racing heart and shallow breaths, Han couldn't have been more grateful to have support.

"Hyung? What if she's still mad at me?" Han managed to ask as he took some deep breaths.

"You know she won't be. You're the one who told us she wasn't herself. She might not even remember it from what you told us," Lee Know comforted.

Han nodded as he took another deep breath, staring at the door in front of him.

"She'll want to see you as much as you want to see her," the older added, with a comforting hand on Han's shoulder. "You can do this."

With a definitive nod, Han finally stepped through the door.

"Jagiya?" he said as he entered, seeing you resting in bed.

"Jisungie," you replied, smiling and reaching out for him.

He approached, taking your hand in his, relief filling him at the simple skin ship he had missed so much.

"How are you?" you asked him.

"I think I'm meant to be asking you that, you're the one in a hospital bed," he smiled softly.

"I know, but, I'm so sorry. They told me what happened, and I can't apologise enough. I can't even begin to imagine what this has done to you."

By the way his gaze faltered and the fact that he couldn't quite meet your eyes, you knew you were right.

"Are you ok?" you asked again.

"Well, I've been better, but I've got the boys. They've dealt with my anxiety attacks before so they know how to look after me," he assured you. "Now you. How are you?"

"I don't know," you admitted. "I'll be honest, I've been focussed on you and wanting to make sure you were ok, because I just... I don't really remember what happened, so I don't really know what I'm feeling or what my brain is doing."

"Why didn't you tell me it had gotten so bad?"

"I didn't realise. That's never happened before."

"Promise you weren't hiding it from me because you didn't want to trigger me," Han pleaded.

"I promise. If anything, I find it easier talking to you about my mental health because you understand. Even if it isn't exactly something you've experienced, you still understand. If you're always open and honest with me, then I will be too," you assured him.

"Of course, I will. Talking to you helps me."

"And talking to you helps me," you agreed.

There was a slight silence then, neither of you sure what to say next. As your mind started to wander, you felt tears prick at your eyes.

"I don't really know what's happening anymore, Han," you whimpered, tears in your eyes. "I've been assigned a therapist and the doctors are trying to diagnose me, but they said until they know for sure I can't really leave. I'm scared."

"No, angel, what are you scared of?" Han asked, instantly pulling you into his arms.

"They say that this wasn't just my depression, that I was in a manic state when the paramedics got there, but I don't even remember. I don't know what happened, I don't know why, I don't know what's wrong with me," you began crying as you clung to your boyfriend's shirt.

"But you're getting help," he reminded you. "It's all going to be ok, we'll get the answers and we'll find a way to cope with this and move forward like we have with everything else."

"We?" you asked, with a sniff, pulling back slightly to look at him.

"Yeah, I'll be with you every step of the way. You don't have to fight this alone."

"Are you sure? After... I... The things I said to you," you said between sobs. "They wouldn't tell me exactly but they said I was yelling at you like I hated you and trying to hurt you. I don't want you to leave, but I understand if you want to. I know I'm not easy to love-"

"No," Han cut in quickly. "No, don't even think it. I'm not easy to love either, but that doesn't change a thing. I do love you. I want to be here. I want to fight this with you. Please don't push me away."

There were now tears on his cheeks too.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"You don't need to be sorry," he said, "None of this was your fault. I know you didn't mean anything you said."

You quickly hugged him again, burying your face in his shoulder.

"I love you, Han Jisung," you whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied, squeezing you tight. "We'll get through this.”

Felix

Waiting outside your hospital room, Felix was sat leaning on Bang Chan. No more tears left to cry; he was staring blanky at his bandaged hand. An uncomfortable silence hung over the pair as Chan had now run out of things to say to attempt to console his dongsaeng. The whole ambulance ride Felix hadn't spoken a word, there were vague hums and slight nods, but that was it. Even while the doctor had treated his wounded hand, the answers he gave were minimal. Bang Chan became even more concerned when Felix seemed numb to the news that you were stable and in recovery. Eventually, a doctor came out to announce that you were conscious and, in a state, to receive visitors. Felix stood, before looking back down at Bang Chan.

"Y/n needs you, Felix. You go ahead, I'll be right here," the leader encouraged.

Felix remained unmoving his unfocused eyes staring towards his hyung.  

“Lixie?” Chan stood up and put his hands on your boyfriends' shoulders, “Lix look at me... please?”

Felix hummed but only appeared to come around when Chan gave his shoulders another squeeze.

“You can do this, okay? Y/n needs you to do this.”

Nodding his head and taking a deep breath Felix turned and entered your room.

He was met with the sight of you, propped up in bed, still looking worryingly pale and hooked up to a blood transfusion, heart monitor and oximeter. Taking a shaky breath, he approached you.

"Lixie," you greeted with a weak smile.

"Why?" he whimpered before the tears began to fall once more. The words he had been keeping locked inside until now began to spill out at an alarming pace between his sobs, "I know, I know you said you were feeling low, but we were helping, m-me and Chan, we were looking after you. I didn't expect... I didn't know it was that bad."

"Oh baby, I didn’t either," you muttered.

"Y/n?" Felix asked, needing clarification on your comment.

"I don't know what happened," you explained. "I just wanted a bath, I was just planning on relaxing before movie night, already wondering what film we should watch, but then the candle... I don't know what I happened. I saw the glass and a switch in my brain flipped. I wasn't really thinking. I wasn't even in control of my own body. It's like my brain just saw an opportunity and-"

You were now fighting back tears yourself and Felix reached out for your hand to comfort you. It was then that you noticed the bandage.

"Felix, you're hurt," you pointed out.

"Ah, it's a small cut," he brushed off. "Have you spoken to a therapist already?"

"Felix, it's bad enough that it's been properly bandaged, what happened?" you asked, unwilling to drop the subject.

He sighed, "I was moving the glass. Now, you. What did the doctors say, what's the plan?"

"I'm fine now, Lix, honestly. I'm not in some sort of deep depressive episode, it was an intrusive thought that I acted on. I've spoken to a therapist, and I’m going to have some behaviour counselling but it’s not like I actively wanted to do this.” You glance down at your bandages admittedly a little frightened at what your body did without your consent.

"Are you hiding something?" your boyfriend asked with narrowed eyes.

"What?" you asked, incredulous.

"People don't just... do that on a whim. I want to know what's happening," he continued to fight you.

"Nothing is happening, Felix."

"But-"

"Drop it."

"I'm just-"

"Lee Yongbok! When have I ever lied to you about my mental health?" you snapped. "In fact, when have I ever lied to you about anything? I know if anything is wrong, I can come to you. You do help. What you and Chan were doing for me tonight, it really lifted my spirits and I'm sorry I ruined it, but please don't start accusing me of things I would never do. I’m frightened enough already!"

Towards the end of your rant, you had started to get teary again. Felix noticed this and panicked slightly, realising that now your emotional state was his fault.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, don’t be scared," he said pulling you into a hug. "You're right, I know you always tell me what's going on with you. It was just- I felt like somehow I'd missed the signs or you were feeling worse than you'd let on."

"It was nothing like that, when I first told you about everything going on with me, I promised I'd come to you if I felt worse or I needed help. That hasn't changed." You pulled back to look him in the eye. "As soon as I'm, you know, a bit less pale, I'll be home with you and back to normal."

Felix smiled slightly at your comforting words.

"Now, how is your hand? Really?"

He laughed a bit then. "It hurts a little. I can't really do much with it right now. But I feel like that has more to do with the extra bulky bandage," he complained holding it up to show you.

You gently took his hand in yours and brought it up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss to it. Moving so that he was holding both of your hands instead Felix returned the gesture, placing little kisses on your bandaged wrists.

"I love you," you assured him.

"I love you, too," he replied, finally kissing your lips

Seungmin

Bang Chan wasn’t sure what to make of the situation right now. Seungmin had stopped crying at some point on the ambulance ride to the hospital, but now he seemed almost too calm. Once the ambulance arrived you were whisked away to be treated and the two boys had been directed towards a waiting room. Seungmin didn’t try to converse with his hyung and Chan didn’t want to push him in case he broke down again. After a while a nurse came in to update them on your condition, you were stable and could have visitors but would need to stay in the hospital for a while, a therapist was scheduled to see you in the morning, and they would work out an action plan from there. Rather than relief at this news it almost seemed like Seungmin became even more confused. Once the medical professionals left Seungmin finally turned to Bang Chan.

"Hyung?"

"Yeah, Min?"  

"I don’t understand."

"Don’t understand what?" pressed Chan. "They said Y/n is stable she's just going to need some help with her mental health issues and-"  

"That," the younger interrupted. "Y/n doesn’t have any mental health issues; she’s never mentioned anything like this."

"Well, Min, maybe she never expressly said anything but-"

"No. I’ve been thinking back and not once has she talked about any struggles with this stuff. Not once, in the whole time we’ve been together," Seungmin insisted. "That’s the sort of thing you would tell your boyfriend. I’ve spoken to her when I’ve been struggling with stress and things from work but she’s never..." Seungmin paused looking down at his feet.

Chan kept trying to chip in and reassure his dongsaeng, but there was no stopping him as all his thoughts came spilling out.

"Hyung, I hadn’t seen her in days! Do you think I would have left her alone all that time if she... if she..." Before he could finish the tears had already started pouring. "It could be something else. Right? An accident or-"

"Min..." Bang Chan stepped forward putting out his arms to pull him into a comforting embrace.

"No," Min responded slapping away Chan's hands and backing up. "Because if she felt like... She would have told me; she knows she can tell me anything. That’s something you tell the person you love; you tell them because you love them, and you know they can help you. I would have helped, I would have-"

Seungmin looked up suddenly and froze as if he’d had some sort of awful epiphany.  

"Min, look-" before Chan could say anything else Seungmin rushed out of the room.  

----  

You were lying in the hospital bed, trying to piece together what had happened. Between what the doctors had told you and your hazy memories you'd got a general idea but were struggling to process everything. You remember feeling a depressive bout coming, you even remember contemplating letting your boyfriend know this time. You never did though, people always reacted poorly, and he was so busy, you remember thinking you'd get over it soon anyway, you always did. From there everything is hazy, apparently, you overdosed on your sleeping tablets and your poor boyfriend found you unconscious when he came over for a surprise visit. You couldn't even imagine the trauma that must have given him, just thinking about made you want to disappear from shame. You were trying to figure out how best to explain everything to him when suddenly he burst through the door. You don’t know what you were expecting him to be like, but it wasn’t this. He looked... numb. Not sad, not angry not even confused. Just numb.

“When were you going to tell me?” His eyes were so cold, you’d never seen him like this. He was always your smiling little puppy, you hated to see this side of him.

“Minnie, I’m sorry.”

“When?”

“Min every time I tell someone about my depression-”

“Not that.”

“Huh? Min, I don’t understand what-”

“When were you going to tell me, you don’t love me?” 

Silence descended for a moment. Both of you were now very confused; Seungmin's thoughts were still spiraling about your apparent lack of love for him and you wondering how on Earth this was where his brain had gone. Since regaining consciousness you'd been trying to plan your conversation with your boyfriend, considering how he would react and how you would explain everything, but not one of the scenarios had him asking you about not loving him anymore.

"Seungmin," you said in a half whisper, "I don't understand."

“Me neither," he responded still quite deadpan. "If you want me to just leave, I will, but I'd really like to know why you were stringing me along."

"Minnie, I don't know why-" you started, but as you spoke Seungmin turned to leave, realising he wasn't going to get the explanation he was hoping for.

"No!" you called out in a choked sob, "Please, don't leave me, please."

He stopped in his tracks. While he had convinced himself you didn't love him, he was very much in love with you and hearing your cries was breaking him.

"Why shouldn't I leave? Wouldn't that make it better? Clearly, me being around isn't helping you." Seungmin couldn't bring himself to turn around and face you "Won't this lessen your burden? You can find someone better, someone you can love, someone you can trust... and then they can help-"

"How dare you!" Finally finding your voice again you all but scream at your boyfriend's back "How dare you say I don't love you. Do you have any idea-"

Your breath catches in your throat and for a second you can't breathe. Seungmin instinctively turns to move towards you but before he can close the distance you start again quieter now.

"Do you have any idea how many times you've saved me?"

"But, I didn't even-" Seungmin started.

"That didn't matter. Just knowing that I had plans with you to look forward to, it made me fight, it bought me happiness even when everything else was dark," you tried to explain.

"I just don't understand why you didn't tell me. If you love me, you should be able to be honest with me about this kind of thing."

"Because I didn't want to be a burden. Normally telling someone about this, or when I go through a really bad episode, they realise they can't cope with this. It pushes people away. You're an idol, you already have so much going on, the last thing you needed was me unloading on you about all of this. I just couldn't bear the thought of the best part of my life giving up on me." The tears began again as you finished talking.

"Jagi, I wouldn't- I could never give up on you," Seungmin assured you, finally closing the gap and pulling you into a tight embrace. "I don't care how hard it gets, I love you, I want to fight this with you if you'll let me, but you need to keep fighting too."

His kind words just made you cry more as you clung to his top.

"Thank you," you managed to breathe out between sobs and sniffs.

"Just tell me, jagi. Tell me when it gets hard, and I'll be there however I can."

He continued to hold you, one hand cradling your head as he pressed repeated small kisses to your temple.

"For as long as you love me, I'm here," he hummed.

"I do," you said through shaky breaths. "I love you so much, I'm sorry I put you through this."

"But we've survived," he reminded you. "We got through it, we'll be ok."

"We will," you agreed. "All I need is you."

I.N

Having seen the state his maknae was in, Hyunjin had insisted on going with him to A&E for his hand while you were being treated. I.N couldn't have cared less about his hand in that moment though, his only thoughts were of you. Even though he had been kept updated on your situation and was assured by doctors you were now stable, he couldn't help but worry. Until he was able to see you himself and ascertain that you were ok, he wasn't going to be able to settle.  

"Innie," said Hyunjin, placing a hand on I.N's restless, bouncing leg, "Everything's going to be ok now."  

"How? How can you say everything will be ok when something so terrible has happened?"  

I.N threw his hyung's hand away and stood, starting to pace.  

"I know you are super worried right now," Hyunjin tried to comfort him, "But the doctor's said she's stable, so she will be ok. Now, we just need to get your hand fixed-"  

"But I want to see Y/n. I should be there for her," I.N retorted.  

"I know you want to be there, but the best thing you can do is look after yourself," Hyunjin explained softly.  

When I.N just continued to pace, Hyunjin stood to physically stop him. With his hands on either side of Jeongin's face, he spoke again. "There's nothing more you can do for Y/n right now."

Shoving the older back, I.N all but exploded.  

"Yeah, because I'm fucking useless?" the younger snapped.  

"What? No-"  

"I'm a worthless waste of space and I'd just make everything worse, right? Because I can't do anything right!"  

"Innie-"  

"You've said it twice now! I can't help Y/n. What's the point if I can't do anything for the one I love when they need me most?

“And you know what's worse? I was so fucking pleased when I got back and thought I had the house to myself. I did the fucking washing up, I wasted so much time hyung! So what if they say she's stable now? Who knows what damage I caused by taking my time? Maybe, if I’d found her sooner...” I.N finally ran out of steam and began to sob again.  

Hyunjin stepped closer, pulling him into his arms. “You didn’t know, Innie, you did what you could. As soon as you knew, you did everything right. You were the one who got the rope off and called the ambulance. The only reason I pushed you away was your hand. All you were doing was damaging yourself more,” he tried to explain. “I love you both and I just needed you to both be ok.”  

Jeongin didn’t say anything as he sobbed into Hyunjin's shoulder, so the elder continued, “Y/n is obviously going to need you there for her, more than anything. You know you’re the only person in the world who can make her day brighter just by existing, I see it all the time. She adores you. But Innie... have you looked at your hand? If you go to her like this, she’s going to be even more frightened than she is right now.”  

For the first time tonight I.N took a proper look at his hand. Hyunjin had to hold on tighter to keep him steady as a wave of nausea washed through Jeongin, he hadn’t quite realised how much damage had been inflicted.  

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded taking some deep breaths as he looked away and sat back down before he could pass out.  

With the severity of his injuries the two didn’t have to wait much longer until I.N was called for treatment. The second he was cleared Jeongin all but ran to where he had been informed you were staying, Hyunjin struggling to keep up. He stopped only to listen to the nurse stationed on your ward. They warned him that the pressure on your throat had caused a lot of bruising, both internal and external, and you were having difficulty talking at the moment, before reassuring him that they didn't believe any permanent damage had been caused.

Hyunjin stayed back, giving the maknae a comforting smile when he hesitated slightly before heading into your room.

"Y/n?" he asked as he crept in, seeing you lying on the bed. "I'm so sorry."

As he began thinking about everything that had happened, he started pacing again. "I should have found you sooner. I didn't even know you were home. I wasted so much time. I was just tidying, enjoying having the place to myself for a bit. Oh my God, I was even mad with you for leaving the dishes. You always nag me about leaving them and then you had, and I was ready to scold you when you got back. I should have just gone straight upstairs. I'm so sorry."

When he finally looked at you, he realised you've been trying to respond. He walks over to you, hoping to hear the faint rasp of your voice, but struggling to understand. You let out a sigh, before carefully and deliberately mouthing out the words, "I'm sorry, I love you, thank you."

I.N smiles before looking down sadly. "I wasn't much help, Hyunjin hyung-"

You placed a hand on his jaw and made him look at you. You glared at him and then pointedly down to his damaged hand.

"That just happened when I was trying to get the rope off."

You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, willing him to understand that that was exactly what had saved you.  

"No, but I should have done more, I couldn't- when they were on the phone- Hyunjin came and-"

You moved your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to crash your lips together. Knowing that right now you couldn't express in words how grateful you were to him, how much you loved and appreciated him and everything he'd ever done for you, you tried to convey it all through that one kiss.

You didn't want to let him pull away, but he did.  

“I’m so sorry.”

You glare at him again, causing IN to chuckle to himself, “I know you don’t want me to be sorry. But I still am. I can’t help it; I just love you too much.”

Your expression softens again, and you reach up to wipe away his tears, you try to say something, but the words don’t come out clearly.

“Hey!?” IN says as he pulls away, “Did you really just call me your little baby bread?”

IN can’t help the blush that spreads across his face as you look up at him and nod enthusiastically, your big doe eyes looking cuter than ever. Embarrassed Jeongin pulls you into a tight embrace, trying to hide how flustered you made him feel. You hum into his shoulder as you wrap your arms around him, clutching him close you once again try to convey to him just how much he means to you, how much you love him. You whimper slightly and hold on tighter when he tries to pull away once again, the vibration of his chest as he laughs warms your heart even more.

“Ya, agi,” he chuckles “Let me go so I can kiss you again!”

This time you elicited a full body laugh for your boyfriend as you spring away from him at the speed of light, lips already pouted towards him eyes half shut.

“My heart! You’re too cute agi, I can’t handle it!” he cooed as he squeezes your cheeks with his good hand peppering your lips with light pecks before giving in and deepening the kiss. This time it’s you who pulls away, resting your forehead against his as you send all your love to him through your touch.

IN smiles, eyes shut, savouring the love he feels in your presence.

“I love you too, always and forever.”

NAVIGATION |  STRAY KIDS MASTERLIST

[whats-wild-to-you]

omg the one where u steal his clothes 🤭 could u write a smut where he goes feral so u purposely do it more often please

-> aforementioned request

feral huh? 😏 ngl there is something extremely sexy about wearing your boyfriend's clothes and him looking at you like a caveman 🥵🥵🥵 ______________________________________________

You spontaneously slept the night at Jay's again so you naturally had no clean clothes to put on the next day. Coming out of the shower you called your boyfriend's name, only to be met with silence.

Tiptoeing around the house naked and wet, you passed by the kitchen, noticing the yellow post-it on the fridge that wasn't there earlier.

I went out for a run. I'll bring back breakfast.

Smiling, you threw the towel over your shoulder and went straight to Jay's closet. Taking stock of everything that was in it, you decided to wear a pair of white basketball shorts and his red workout top.

It was much too big on you and revealed some major sideboob, since you had rinsed out your bra under the shower earlier.

"Oh well, it's not like I'll be going out in that outfit!"

Grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you walked over to the kitchen, browsing on the internet while you waited for Jay.

He came back 30 minutes later, completely drenched in sweat and panting. It was only 11am but already 30 degrees celsius hot. Who in their right mind goes jogging in that heat?

"You're going to get a heatstroke!"

"Where are you?"

"Kitchen!"

You stood up off the chair, ready to scold him, when he walked in only wearing his shorts. You too had gotten rid of his shorts earlier as they constantly fell off your hips.

"Goddamn, woman!"

"What? You said I could borrow your stuff!"

"I know I did, but-" He stopped himself, licking his lips.

You looked puzzled for a second, but then looked down at him, his shorts forming a tent over his growing bulge.

"Jesus Christ!"

You had no time to protest when Jay picked you up and carried you to the bathroom with him. Getting rid of both of your clothes, you barely managed to inform him that you had already showered, before he dragged you inside the shower cabin with him.

Lathering himself up in soap, you caught a glimpse of his wicked grin and understood immediately.

Boyfriend was horny. It happened a lot after he worked out, but usually you weren't there so his hand ended up doing all the work.

You raised an eyebrow as he inched closer and closer to you and eventually rubbed his soapy body against yours.

"We should probably rinse this off before we do any sort of acrobatics or we might break our necks." You snickered.

He stepped under the shower head, and all you could do was watch how the soap traveled down his perfectly sculpted body. Then he placed you under the shower head, admiring your curves.

In a matter of seconds you had jumped on his lap, smashing your lips on his. You moaned into the kiss, and Jay seized the opportunity and slipped his tongue inside your mouth. Deepening the kiss, he pushed you against the wall, the back of your head hitting the tiles but the pain wasn’t comparable to the one growing between your thighs. What should have been a painful moan quickly turned into an aroused one as you felt Jay's hand traveling in between your legs. He rubbed your clit, making sure you were wet and ready for him, then grabbed his pulsating cock, tantalizing your pussy before it disappeared slowly inside you.

You drew in a sharp breath which made Jay stop but he pushed through when you bit and sucked on his bottom lip, begging him to continue.

You wrapped your arms behind his neck, helping him to support your weight, while you pushed your hips forward, allowing Jay to penetrate you even deeper.

His thrusts became more rhythmic and soon he picked up the pace. Yout tits were bouncing up and down in front of his face and small beads of sweat covered his forehead. His muscles were tense from lifting your entire body weight, so you told him to put you down. Immediately you turned around, presenting him your juicy ass, your swollen pussy peeking through your tightly closed thighs. Jay slapped your ass cheeks a couple times until your skin turned red and you moaned delighted. With his left hand he spread your ass cheeks while his right one was guiding his cock to your pussy. He pulled your hips towards his lap, further intensifying the feeling, while you begged him to thrust deeper.

"Damn, woman! Any more deeper and my balls will disappear inside you too!"

There was something so raw and blunt about his statement that it made your pussy clench around his cock, holding it hostage.

"Faster, babe!"

He obeyed immediately, bending your knees until you almost squatted as he angled his leg up on the wall, practically mounting you like a horny bull.

You began to see stars and it didn't take long before you climaxed, your legs wobbling as you struggled to stay vertical.

Jay then picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, placing your wet body on the sheets and spreading your legs as far as he could.

You were still sore and oversensitive when he shoved his cock deep inside your convulsed pussy and continued thrusting in and out of you. Trying desperately to muffle your animalistic moans, you grabbed a pillow, pressing it on your face. You were sure you'd be too sensitive to feel any joy but noticed how you got wet again in record time, Jay's massive cock now sliding in and out of you with ease.

You felt Jay angling your legs so he could have better access and moaned into the pillow as you felt his thumb circling your swollen clit.

"Fuck!" He hissed and made your whole body erupt in goosebumps. Beads of sweat fell from his forehead onto your stomach. Soon his breathing became irregular and you knew he was about to cum.

Before that could happen, he pulled out his cock, leaving you empty and protesting.

"No! Get back in!"

His thumb was still rubbing your clit, the friction sending heat waves throughout your whole body. His other hand came up and grabbed your breasts, roughly playing with your nipples, before he slapped them, making the skin burn. You were winding under his thumb, ready to explode again, needing nothing more than his hard cock around your throbbing pussy.

Throwing the pillow aside, you gazed at him, a mixture of lust and rage. How dare he deny you his cock?

He watched you cum from the touch of a single thumb and smiled devilishly as you squirmed under him, performing some kind of elaborate exorcism.

You were still panting when you felt your aching pussy being spread once more as Jay's cock penetrated you deeper than ever before. In a matter of seconds he screamed out your name together with some expletives and collapsed on top of you.

Minutes passed before any of you could move, and even then your movements were in slow motion.

"Damn!" You chuckled at his stunned remark and freed yourself from under his weigh. Turning him onto his back, you straddled his hips in a desperate attempt to get him hard again.

"Not so fast! I need a minute, you insatiable woman."

You giggled and slid down his body until you were face to face with his worn-out cock.

"Let me help you then!" You announced as you started licking up and down his shaft, licking off all of your collective juices.

"Fuck!"

You had almost licked him clean and he was already twitching again.

"Ride me!"

You squatted down, hovering over his now hardened cock. He wasted no time shoving it inside you, thrusting his hips rhythmically, the only sound being his balls slapping against your skin.

[princestolasofthearsgoetia]

✨🌌The Prince and the Boss-Man🌌✨

A starter for @ofcnimction's Blitzo

Stolas was not used to waking up wet. He also was not used to waking up outside, huddled under a fire escape in an alley, shivering. A lotnof things had happened in the past few days that he wasn't used to. He'd never not eaten for three while days before. He'd never been kicked out of his house and slept in the street before. He'd never been dragged before his Father by his own guards, stripped of his titles, and cast out of his family before, and that was the crux of it.

That moment would be seared into his mind forever. His father, flaring in all his demonic glory, towered over him and pronounced him, for one last time, "unworthy" and "a disappointment to the noble name and title" and had a guard tear the crown from his head and the grimoire from his grasp. He could still hear Octavia sobbing as the grimoire and all the burdens that came with it were placed in her hands and he was dragged from the room and flung out into the alley behind the council chambers, with nothing but the clothes on his back. He wandered the city, in shock, utterly alone for the first time in his life. That was three days ago.

The first night he didn't sleep. The second he'd hidden in a bush in an abandoned garden. But it had begun raining the third day. He had no money. No means. And news of his dethroning had spread rapidly, so there was no one who would take him in, which left him huddling under a shallow eve, soaked to the skin, trying to stay dry. Apparently, he'd fallen asleep back there, in that squalid little alley behind some shitty apartment building. It was still raining. He was soaked through.

But he had nowhere else to go. So he pulled his sodden cloak around himself and pressed himself back against the filthy brick wall he was huddled against, praying to Satan for some sort of help.

A van squealed down the alley, throwing up a wall of filth sewer water that crashed over him.

Some divine intervention.

The offending van pulled into the shitty apartment's parking lot around the corner and parked, dinging at least three other vehicles, by the sound of it. The door open then slammed shut, and it beeped as it locked.....and then the voice of the driver came floating down the alley as he bitched about the rain. A very familiar voice. Pitchy, yet gruff. Emotional. Crass.

Stolas looked up in shock.

No....it couldn't be.......

He stood, and got to the corner as fast as his legs would carry him, but only managed to peer around in time to see the back of the driver as he disappeared into the apartments front door. But that was enough. The long black frock coat. The three distinct spikes. Those glorious stripes horns. That clever red spaded tail he knew so well.....

Blitz.

Without thinking, he rushed towards the door....but it was locked behind him. The buzzer system was right next to it, and the names of each resident were taped next to the apartment buzzers. And there his name was! Apartment 4R! Blitz and Loona Buckzo!

He pressed their buzzer.

Nothing happened.

He pressed it again.

Still nothing.

He pressed it one more time.

Then he noticed the faded, laminated sign sloppily duct taped to the wall next to the buzzer. It read "Buzzer System out of Order. If you need to access the building....go fuck yourself."

Pleasant.

But that was alright. He could wait. Eventually someone would come out of the building and he could slip in behind them. And soon enough, someone did. A loud, unpleasant sinner came barreling out the door a few minutes later, and Stolas managed to catch it before it closed, slipping out of the rain.

The elevator was also broken, according to an equally rude sign, so Stolas, coughing, sneezing, shaking and sodden, began the trek up the steep, dark stairs to the fourth floor. As he walked, though, he began to get nervous. He hadn't seen Blitz in quite some time.....after the Asmodean crystal they just sort of....stopped talking. Perhaps he wouldn't want to see Stolas at all. Perhaps he hated him and would just turn him away. Perhaps he'd take him over the coals for what he'd done now that Stolas had no power, no station, nothing. He'd probably think that was what Stolas deserved.

Stolas spiraled all the way up till he found himself standing outside of the door labeled 4R. Blitz's apartment. He stooped to knock...then paused.

Ah hell, what else did he have to loose.

He knocked on the door.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

Backstories: Childhood Trauma Edition

I went in order of youngest to oldest: Candor was 5, Diodore was 8, Peregrine was 10, Solace was 10, and Corentin was 15. And these aren't the only (and not even the first in some cases) traumas they experienced as children. And tbh Peri's is the only one where the adult/mentor figure who's shown/referenced/implied isn't contributing to the situation. The woman is his adoptive mother (who he called Auntie), who didn't die until he was well into his twenties.

I'll give more context for the scenarios under the cut. I put cw's in the tags, but I'll reiterate them at the beginning of each explanation too so it's clear which goes where.

1. Candor: (cw child abuse, murder, drowning) he was born to half-elf parents and appeared to be one at birth, but when he was about 4 or 5 his horns & tail started to grow in. His mother freaked out, and it escalated to the point where his father feared for his child's safety and, to some extent, his own. Things came to a head one night and Candor's father tried to hide him in a closet while he tried and failed to talk down his wife & get both him and Candor out of her reach. She knocked him out, grabbed Candor, and ran to the Chionthar River; he managed to wake up and catch up in time to wrestle their kid away from her and shoved her into the water in the struggle. Not knowing where else to turn, and not wanting to be separated from Candor when his wife's body was found and the Fists came knocking, he turned to the Guild for shelter. Candor grew up in the Guildhall, being watched while his dad went to work and, eventually, joining him on the boat despite his intense fear of water & drowning.

2. Diodore: (cw- child abuse, child death, ableism, murder) Dora's autism had been pretty difficult to detect as a young child, especially since, as her only daughter (and only child period), her mother and the community at large were willing to overlook some things they would have caught in other kids. When she was about eight years old, however, her difficulties adapting socially and conforming to the teaching styles of her instructors put a target on her back. It didn't help that she and some other kids had begun to form a friend group around their shared struggles. Eventually, the adults considered it no longer worth their time to try and "help" her and her friends and, one by one, they began disappearing, being fed to a beholder in a nearby cavern. Dora was one of the last to be targeted, due to her specific family situation, and managed to slip under the radar before being dragged off with a combination of social masking and realizing her knack for alchemy & gardening (her parents' specialties) which justified pulling her out of the community school for "specialized training". She was unable to help her friends.

3. Peregrine (abandonment, "othering", idk how else to explain it sorry): Peri accidentally interrupted his parents' attempt at figuring out the Dream of the Blue Veil spell when he wandered into the ritual at 10 years old and the resulting magical surge transported him from Eberron to Faerun, where he was found, alone, by the woman who would become his adoptive mother ("auntie"). His parents before this were emotionally harsh and neglectful, frustrated with his difficulty shapeshifting and, seemingly, by his presence. He assumed them dead via the same accident that teleported him and blamed himself for it for the rest of his childhood and into his adulthood, and was so stressed by suddenly being on a completely different plane that he was mute until he was about 13. He also became obsessed with remembering his old home and family, drawing pictures to process what had happened. The community that took him in was hesitant due to their belief that he was a fae child (they called him "changeling" which was accurate but not for the reason they thought) but were ultimately welcoming, due primarily to the efforts of his auntie. He carried that fear of being "found out" as a shapeshifter that he'd learned first from his parents and then from his new town into his adulthood, only opening up to more people a few years before the "present" day.

4. Solace & Corentin (cw: murder, child death, intrusive/violent thoughts, lack of control, child abuse, really anything durge related): Corentin's Dark Urge truly awoke when they were 15. They'd had violent thoughts & dreams for years beforehand, and had even had a close call that their mother had managed to catch, but they had been working with the Temple of the Open Hand on controlling themself. Their training failed, along with the lock on their door, one night while they were sleepwalking (trapped in their own head, really). Solace was the only family member besides Corentin to survive the night, and only barely. They didn't see their mother die, but their father died protecting them and their 13 year old sister, and their sister died while trying to hide them by laying on top of them. When Corentin woke up they broke a window and called for help before being dragged away by Sceleritas Fel, but managed to throw one of the several healing potions the family kept stashed around their home at Solace, saving their life. Solace was taken in by the Temple and ended up becoming a Tempest cleric after the clergy tried and failed to train them as a healer. Corentin was horrifically abused and brainwashed (to put it lightly) by the Bhaalists after being taken to them and ended up creating/helping with the Absolutist plot in a desperate grab at freedom. In the "present-day" of their storylines they're both trying to come to grips with what happened, Corentin dealing with the guilt and gaps in their memory and Solace grappling with how to handle the new knowledge they've gained of Bhaalspawn and their own memory of the night's events.

[mixahrexlm]

✦ BENJAMIN WADSWORTH, GENDERQUEER, HE/THEY ✦ MICAH REALM the TWENTY FIVE year old has been in Hidehill for THEIR WHOLE LIFE and was a CLASSMATE to Lucas Johnson, the missing persons. Whispers on the streets are that the BOOK CLERK AT UNDERCOVER BOOKS who lives in HADLEY PARK are said to be INTUITIVE and NOSEY but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

Trigger Warning: Drug & Alcohol Abuse, physical abuse suggested

Meet: Micah Realm

Tell me are we posing, or are we juxtaposed?

full name: Micah Kian Realm nicknames: Realm (Micah has gone exclusively by Realm since high school with very few exceptions.)*** important note gender & pronouns: genderqueer & He/They age & date of birth: 25, April 4th 1998 where do they live: Hadley Park time living in Hidehill: His whole damn life occupation: Book Clerk at Undercover Books positive traits: Intuitive negative traits: Noseyface claim: Benjamin Wadsworth

background.

Call it a curse that nothing ever came easy to the Realm Brothers. Micah Realm being the youngest of the three never quite understood how at home all he wanted in the world was to disappear, while to the rest of the world he felt like a total ghost. It was like living in this limbo he could never get out of. The curse of being the youngest of three brothers in a small town. Micah was still small when his father abandoned them the first time. As far as his oldest brother was concerned, the man had fucked off after an argument with their mother but a much younger Micah felt as though he could never be certain of the truth. The feelings clearly wavering when a string of men started coming and leaving at what sometimes felt like all hours of the night. Most of them were unobservant to her three sons still living in the home, but every so often she’d catch a real nasty one who always seemed to feel like he had something to prove. Didn’t really matter. Even those types didn’t last.

Micah could remember the first time he made it home and their dad was back sitting in the same old arm chair he had before he’d left. A small part of him was hopeful that their random string of strangers had come to an end. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case. He’d always seemed to have a problem with liquor, but on the benders where he’d return home, he’d become someone Micah could barely recognize. After the first couple of times this had happened, his brothers would make a point of waiting out his stay as far from home as they could. Oftentimes spending time dragging Micah along to spend his time with crowds he barely felt he'd fit in with.

When his oldest brother eventually moved out, Micah wondered if he and his brother would be enough to survive their father’s gruesome returns home. He managed to distract himself most of the time with his writing. Something he’d picked up on the days where he decided to stay late in his English class. The days where all he wanted was to avoid having to go home if he feared his father might be there. Micah could remember being told by his English teacher to write what felt familiar. Something he knew. Something that interested him. A challenge for sure when he kept to himself as often as he did. Always wondering how he missed the social gene that seemed to envelop his older brothers. So instead he let himself become wrapped up in their lives. Found solace in the control it brought him to play make believe with the very real lives of his brothers friends.

He’d only had the idea in his head to start writing about them for a short time when his first chapter came to mind. A story about an incident he’d seen at one his brother’s band rehearsals. It really was all fun and games until someone gets hit in the face with a symbol. Something about some kid named Tommy going around telling people one of the groupies gave second rate hand jobs. A fascinating display and there was Micah writing down every last detail, every thought he had, and every word that was said throughout the experience penned. Being home never really felt like an option but prior to this, Micah was certain he would have rather bathed in ketchup than have to spend his evenings being ignored by a group of people who barely knew he existed. That night was the start of what he’s referred to as his chance at greatness. The beginning of his very first novel that he declared was going to be his ticket out of Hidehill.

After the incident, he started spending more and more time with his brother’s friends thinking himself incapable of making any of his own, until she came into his life. Emery had always been the kind of person, Micah never expected would be willing to look twice at him. Everything about her seemed too cool. Too far away from the limbo he'd grown so accustomed too. Even of the few relationships he had built over the course of the years, none of them really felt like his own. He was the younger brother. The side thought. Emery was the first person who saw him and made him feel like maybe perhaps, he really was person shaped. She was always so quick to share her music with him, and though it definitely took time, he eventually opened up to sharing his work with her as well. So to say it was a dream come true when they decided to take the next step and become physically intimate, despite their agreement that it didn't have to mean anything, would have been an understatement. And yet despite all the discussion they'd had Micah could have never prepared himself for how it would make him feel after. Or how much it would sting when so shortly after she entered her relationship with Axel. The very same Axel who would steal her away as though the whole thing had been nothing more than a dream.

In the years since Emery had left, Micah found himself returning to his mostly lonely writer esque ways. He kept an eye on her band, always quietly supporting her from the sideways, and hated the twist in his stomach that occurred when she was no longer on the bands posters. Despite this, his pride kept him from reaching out. Instead, in recent years, he's decided to take up an interest in the investigations happening around Hidehill. He can't feel like there's a story written into this somewhere and he's dedicated himself to finding out what it is.

Wanted Connections/Plots:

Family: As mentioned in the bio, Micah does have two older brothers. I would eventually love to try and get these filled. I will probably send in requests for them eventually but for now if you're interested come hit me up!

Trailer Mates: Try as he might, as much as I'm sure he'd love to be able to live alone, he definitely can't afford that. I'm also just a sucker for roommate plots. So come gimme a live in homie.

Book Club: Yes I'm aware this is a murder mystery RP. Yes I still want a soft wholesome little book club. SUE ME

Pen Pal: Gimme a cute lil pen pal relationship where maybe they send each other/ dish and share theories on the Shadow happenings in Hidehill.

More to come...

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 49 - I need your advice.

Episode 1. Sam: He jolted awake in the middle of the night from a nightmare, panting, covered in sweat

Raven: Are you alright? His voice was sleepy but caring, as he sat up in bed, wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders

Sam: He nodded soft and took a deep breath Yeah, just flashbacks and fears about the future, I suppose? he forced a soft smile

Raven: Do you want to talk about it?

Sam: Not really he smiled more genuine now but thank you for asking. That already helps.

Raven: He contemplated a bit, then planted a soft kiss on Sam's temple, speaking in a lowered, caring voice I feel like someone else should be here then he disappeared

Sam: He frowned questioning, and listened to see if he could hear Raven downstairs, when just 20 seconds later, he felt the weight of someone sitting down on the bed again when you take off- he turned his head, surprised to see Adrian sitting next to him Adrian? he chuckled surprised

Adrian: He grunted soft, clearly he had been woken up, but slowly crawled under the blanket, dragging it up over Sam and himself, then dragged Sam down in bed, to lay in the nook of his arm, running his fingers through his hair Someone traded his place with me.

Sam: Someone is very generous he smiled soft

Adrian: He lifted an eyebrow someone sounds like they are smitten?

Sam: Someone sounds like they need more sleep he chuckled soft and planted a kiss on Adrian's naked chest I simply think we often take him for granted.

Adrian: ….. we do. All of us.

Sam: He nodded soft Let's do something nice for him one day soon.

Adrian: Mh he planted a soft kiss on Sam's hair and closed his eyes, though he kept caressing Sam's hair you could always marry him instead.

Sam: He snorted soft You're not going to let that one go easy, are you?

Adrian: Nope.

Sam: … you know, if you keep dropping comments like that, I'm going to eventually assume you DO want to marry me, and you ARE hurt I said no.

Adrian: ….

Sam: He lifted his head, observing Adrian for a moment Are you?

Adrian: …. go to sleep, Sam.

It was almost a week later, Sam hadn't been home yet, he had been camped at either Adrian's or Raven's place, and he had neither talked with or seen anyone else in that amount of time. He had been hiding. Dodging everyone and everything. But today was the day to force himself back into the world, so he had left Adrian's house early evening to take a walk, to try to clear his head and prepare himself to get back into everyday life, and to be a father for Sparrow. During his walk he had started walking towards the small shopping district and soon enough found himself looking at toy stores, baby stores and even paint at a paint store, but all he had actually managed to buy, before he got stressed out by people's endless questions to the upcoming father, was a small brown teddy bear. He ended up storming out the paint store with several paint samples and a major panic attack, just running down the street as fast as he could, nearly tripping over someone elses stroller, till he finally slowed down, and started walking down a side road, panting hard, still trying to get a hold of his panic attack, when he spotted the red Ford Mustang Boss, parked outside the local diner. But while Sam was trying to decide whether to panic further, run or try to stay cool, Andy had already spotted him under the street lights and honked his horn Shit! he cringed

Andy: Sam! he yelled out the door as he opened it and waved at Sam to come closer

Sam: Fuck! he took a deep shaky breath, it was his dad after all, he couldn't avoid him forever… or till the babies were born at least. So he slowly walked over to the car, stopping in front of his dad's door

Andy: He chuckled hoarsely Well, hello to you too!

Sam: Sorry he took another deep breath Hi dad… what uh… what are you doing here?

Andy: He squinted a bit, observing Sam, he seemed… frazzled? Uh… he chuckled cheekily I was cruising for some dick actually.

Sam: He looked up at the sky, the stars were slowly getting lit, taking another, much deeper breath as his heart only started racing faster

Andy: What are you doing out? Thought you were still hiding?

Sam: No he looked back at his dad Took a walk, ended up thinking it was a good idea buying some stuff for Sparrow and look at some paint samples for her room… but it was quite overwhelming still, and I don't know? Got a teddy and some paint samples before everything became a fuzzy haze and I ran out in panic.

Andy: He frowned soft wanna go for burgers and talk about it? he nodded at the diner in front of them

Sam: He wrinkled his nose lightly Not in the mood for fast food.

Andy: Congo cooked meatloaf… there's leftovers at home

Sam: …… he sighed soft and walked around the car, he couldn't avoid his family, so he might as well grab the bull by it's horns, and quickly got in on the seat next to Andy Okay

Andy: Okay? he chuckled again control your enthusiasm, Sam! he shook his head lightly I can also drive you home, or anywhere else you wanna go.

Sam: Meatloaf is fine, dad. I'm a bit hungry.

Andy: He nodded confirming and started his car, slowly rolling out from the parking lot

They had been driving a couple minutes in complete silence, when Andy decided to speak up

Andy: You seem… tense?

Sam: His eyes planted on the scenery outside, trying his best not to look at his dad, his heart beating fast, temperature rising. The last week has been a lot.

Andy: No I get that, I just wonder what it has to do with me?

Sam: With you? He slowly turned his head and looked at Andy

Andy: Yeah, we usually have conversations in the car, and you will barely look at me tonight?

Sam: …. I am looking at you.

Andy: Yes, right now you are, but you barely looked at me outside the car, you barely looked at me when you got in. And the past 3 minutes you haven't said a word, and when I address it you barely answer or look my way. What's going on?

Sam: Nothing dad, he shook it off, and turned his face towards the window as flashes of Andy rubbing himself in his car flashed through his mind, making him blush lightly, his temperature and heart rate rising further

Andy: Sam… are you feeling okay? he slowed down the car and placed a hand on Sam's thigh, giving it a light squeeze You seem flustered…. how is the pregnancy going? he sighed soft I'm worried about you, I know it's not always easy.

Sam: He looked at his dad's hand on his thigh, instantly wishing it would move further up and stroke the fast growing bulge in his pants

Andy: You can tell me… I've been through it several times, I wont judge…

Sam: Feeling burning hot, his legs slowly parting, his hands desperately wanting to unzip his pants and demand to be taken! He shook his head as he realised, quickly opening the door to get out, not realising the car was still moving, so he stumbled out into thankfully a bank of snow FUCK!!!

Andy: He quickly parked the car and ran out the car What the hell Sam!??! Are you alright??!

Sam: No I'm not fucking alright! he got up fast, nearly slipping down the snow bank a few times, finally reaching solid ground. He shook his head and pointed at a bar further up the street Is that open yet?!

Andy: Y-yeah? he looked confused at his son

Sam: Good! Excellent! he quickly marched in the direction of the bar

Andy: What?! he whispered to himself and shook his head, then quickly ran back to his car, turned it around, and parked it as close to the bar as he could get. He lit a cig and locked his car as he got out, hurrying into the bar. It was empty, so it was easy to spot Sam by the bar, already sipping on a glass of something. What are we drinking? He asked as cheerful as possible, as he took a seat on the barstool next to Sam.

Sam: He sighed soft and rolled his glass between his palms Anything strong enough. But to be more specific, I'm having a triple Whiskey.

Andy: He nodded at the bartender I'll have the same!

Sam: He sighed deep and quickly downed his drink Another one for me, please.

Andy: So... he said in a soft voice, as they both sat with their full glass, and the leftover bottle between them are you going to let me in on what's making you so hot and bothered that you need to get drunk?

Sam: he sighed deep I better not. I don't think it would really solve the issue, rather make it bigger.

Andy: Sam, you can trust me… or at the very least I used to think you believed you could he frowned soft and sipped his glass Why don't you trust me?… have I done something to break your trust?

Sam: No, dad he sighed soft it's really not you… it's… it's me.

Andy: He scoffed lightly and sipped his glass again wauw… my own son is breaking up with me! he snorted soft

Sam: I'm sorry okay, it's just… a private matter he sighed again, emptying his glass, then slammed it down on the table why's there no music in this place?!

Andy: He pointed backwards with his thumb Jukebox. You gotta pay.

Sam: Right he slipped off his chair, mumbling on his way to the jukebox I'd pay an infinite amount of money not to have a boner right now!

Andy: He observed Sam by the jukebox when his phone suddenly rang, he quickly picked up yeah?

Adrian: We're done over here, so if you two could head in this direction, soon-

Andy: He sighed soft yeah, he's not in the best mood, maybe we should wait to another day?

Adrian: What's wrong?

Andy: I don't know, he's acting strange? It's almost as if he's trying to avoid me, and when I tried to confront him about it, he escaped into a bar and is currently working on both getting drunk, and getting the jukebox started, in order to escape the conversation about why he's acting weird.

Adrian: …..

Andy: ….. wait… do you know anything?

Adrian: ……

Andy: I swear to Gawd! If you know and you're keeping this from me-

Adrian: It's the hormones, and Niyol made him drink some sort of potion that put Sam in a trance where he apparently discovered he desires you or whatever and it makes him all loopy and-

Andy: he what?!?!

Adrian: He sighed deep …. look, I didn't want to tell you… but also did… at the same time I more than understand and respect Sam's wish to keep this to himself… and on the other hand you also deserve to know why your son is-

Andy: kept starring at Sam by the jukebox

Adrian: taking a distance to you

Andy: Starring

Adrian: …. Andy?

Andy: More starring

Adrian: Andy?

Andy: even more starring

Adrian: ANDY!

Andy: I need something stronger than this he looked at his glass and quickly finished it

Adrian: He groaned soft don't make me regret I told you!

Andy: He snorted into the phone I actually wish you wouldn't have. Look I agree with you, I deserve to know, and thank you for telling me… but I also wish I didn't know he laughed nervously

Adrian: …. he sighed soft so what are you going to do now?

Andy: Pretend I don't know? Fuck do I know Adrian? It's huge! It's flaming hot! Highly explosive! And it just landed in my lap! What the fuck am I going to do?! I'm going to drop him off at home as we agreed to, and then I'm going to get the fuck out of there, that's what I'm going to do!

Adrian: …. I'm sorry

Andy: Whimpering noise it's fine… I'll see you in 10!

Adrian: See you… and drive safe, please.

Andy: Sure he forced a fake laugh and hung up, then walked up to Sam, tapping his shoulder Hey uh he frowed soft So uh… Adrian called… he asked me to drive you home so uh, can we skedaddle please?

Sam: Skedaddle?

Andy: Sam he nodded backwards in the direction of the car please… I don't wanna argue with him

Sam: He frowned soft argue with him?

Andy: Look can we just please get out of here?

Sam: Now you're the one being weird.

Andy: Adrian was worried about you okay? So I told him I'd keep an eye out for you and if I saw you I'd drive you home…

Sam: Oh? he smiled soft okay…he scratched the back of his neck and took a deep breath yeah okay… let me just grab the bottle and I'll meet you outside.

Andy: Gotcha he nodded confirming, eager to escape out into the cold night air, to cool down before their car ride! wtf??! He whispered at the cold evening air and shook his head No… fuck no! a cheeky grin started tucking at his lips but fuck yeah though…. NO! he frowned deep and kicked a smaller snow bank, taking a deep breath calm yourself. It doesn't mean anything.

Sam: What doesn't mean anything?

Andy: He spun around to see Sam stand behind him, and tucked nervously on a hoodie string Uh nothing, just something Adrian said. Let's get in the car, it's fucking freezing out here! I think we're going to get more snow he blabbered nervously and gestured towards the car

Sam: Yeah he sighed soft and slowly followed his dad to the car, sipping a good amount of his bottle before he got into the car

[possibly-god]

Patrick O’Bannon – the Shield

(1975 – 16/2000 – 41)

It was love at first sight for Mary O’Bannon when Mikhail Bogdanov flew in to stop her being mugged. Learning that her big, strong savior was fresh off the boat, she invited him to stay in her Vinegar Hill apartment until he got on his feet.

When Misha found work out west, Mary insisted on making their last night together special. For her, it was a dream come true that gave her her precious boy. For him, it was a final favor to a friend, and a final confirmation that he didn’t like women that way.

Little Patrick always told his mama that they didn’t need his disappeared dad, that he’d protect her now. When the policeman told him about the car crash, it wasn’t just a loss to him – it was a failure.

With no relatives willing to take him in, Patrick spent the next 9 years being shuffled around foster families and group homes. He learned quickly to make himself a target, a punching bag for feral fosters or problem parents, taking the hits so the other kids didn’t have to.

It helps that he’s a giant for his age – he was 6 feet tall by the time he was 12, and his underfed frame is all muscle.

This kid is a born and bred New Yorker – blunt as hell in every language (he’s got the basics down in Spanish, French Creole, and Mandarin), can slip through a crowd like a fish through water, and keeps a ranked list of bodega bacon-egg-n-cheese sandwiches.

Things actually seemed to be looking up for him as ’75 began – he’d been in the same home for almost three months, he had time to focus on his homework (he actually wasn’t terrible at history), he’d joined the wrestling team – and then he got kidnapped while taking out the trash.

That wrestling training did pay off – he managed to get Scout into a submission hold before realizing these RED weirdos were here to rescue them.

It destroys Heavy, finding out he has family he wasn’t there to protect (his already complicated feelings about that time of his life don’t help) – he’s immediately doing everything he can to reach out, which just puts Patrick off even more than he already is.

Arriving on RED base, he becomes a guard dog for the younger kids around all these strange men. It takes him a while to stop reflexively hiding them in closets when an adult shows up, but he does eventually relax, and being less worried about their safety lets him be softer with them.

It takes plenty of time and conversations with Zhanna and Medic, but it eventually gets through to him that Heavy really wants to know him, to care for him.

Heavy and Zhanna take to calling him “Pasha” – he’s not a fan at first (he thinks it sounds girly), but it grows on him as they do.

One person who doesn’t grow on him is Soldier, no matter how much his “uncle” tries.

Once OHM is defeated, as the kids prepare to leave, Heavy makes a few calls. A week later, Patrick has a new foster placement with his babushka Grusha in Brighton Beach (it doesn’t take him long to start picking up Russian).

Heavy and his sisters call frequently and visit whenever they can – Patrick begrudgingly lets them drag him through all the Big Apple tourist spots before showing them the city’s real treasures.

After high school, Patrick joins the fire department while attending community college on the side (Pauling has to talk Pyro out of jump-starting his career with “a few light arsons.”) Every year he sends each of his aunts a copy of the firemen’s calendar (to ogle his coworkers) and a marker (to draw a shirt on him).

Come the new millenium, it takes a fair bit of convincing to get Patrick out of his quiet (ish) life, but he’s not letting his friends take on the world without backup (or missing out on the action) and joins Team Fortress International as the Shield.

Next up – Kevin McCallister if he slayed…

TF2K Master Post

[tierneysodegaard]

Dirty Secrets - Pierre Gasly x reader - Part Eight

Read Part Seven here

Pierre Gasly x female!reader

Summary: Being the golden girl of Mercedes was easy when your dad was Toto Wolff. You’d been his Personal Assistant for a while with no problems until Pierre Gasly started to sneak around with you. Toto would kill him if he found out he was sleeping around with his daughter. Let’s just hope you have a good concealer to hide those marks Pierre leaves on your neck every night.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, smut 18+++, Pierre being a little shit

—

The only communication you had with Toto during your time away was the odd text about work he needed you to prepare for a meeting. You'd speak the odd word in an online meeting but tried to keep quiet as much as possible without drawing attention to yourself or him. You now had to face Toto back at work. The drivers were racing in the 70th-anniversary race at Silverstone, the week before Pierre had managed to finish in seventh, something he was incredibly proud of but still wanted more.

He'd always wanted to win a race and he always had the determination to do that but since things with your Dad blew up his motivation grew. Not only did he want to prove to himself that he was capable of winning but he also wanted to prove to Toto he wasn't the lay-about driver he made him out to be.

You had been staying with Pierre whilst the weekend dragged on. Although Toto had booked you a room next to him you never used it. Staying with Pierre just made him hurt more, he knew he had made things worse, the bitterness and fear of his daughter getting hurt had gotten to him and he needed to make it right before Pierre made his move and he lost you.

"Nervous?" You asked Pierre as the two of you walked through the garages.

"Nope." He looked down with a smile. "Are you?"

"Think my Dad is the one who needs to be worried."

"I'm sure you'll smooth things over."

"He hopes."

"And you don't?"

"I miss him, why wouldn't I? It's rare we spend time away from one another but after what he said I don't exactly feel guilty."

"I don't blame you." Pierre wrapped his hand around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as you two approached the Mercedes garages. "I'll meet you after the race." He kissed the top of your head, smiling as he pulled away slightly. "We should go for dinner in the week if you want to stay with me for the next couple of races."

"I'd love to." You smiled up at him before speaking again. "Be safe out there."

"I will be." He gave you a wink. "I'll see you after."

"Bye Pierre."

Whilst the pair of you had the small interaction you didn't realise you two were being watched. Toto had watched the entire scene take place and every ounce of guilt he’d felt disappeared when he saw Pierre lay his hands on you. He already hated Pierre as it is but now he’d seen the pair of you share a kiss right before him his patience grew thin. 

You walked inside of the garage, smiling and sharing a hug with Lewis before taking your usual seat beside Toto. “Afternoon.” You gave him a weak smile, trying to ease the tension but it didn’t seem to work. 

“How are you?” Toto asked in a deadpan tone.

“Good, and you?”

“Hmm…” He hummed, trying his best to be nice but the thought of Pierre and you just made his skin crawl. 

“How’s Susie and Jack?”

“They’re fine.” 

“Good.” Taking a deep breath your eyes darted outside, watching as the drivers got ready for the race. Sensing things weren’t going as well as you had hoped Lewis came up behind you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

“He’s in a mood, he’ll come around.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as he gave you a smile. 

“Thank you.” You whispered back, mirroring his smile as he walked off to get ready. 

Lewis had a point. Toto would come around eventually, you hoped anyway. Sure, the two of you had your small disputes and arguments, but the two of you had always bounced back and made up within a day, but now things just seemed different. He didn't even want to hold a conversation with you now. 

I hope you’re right Lewis. 

The race had started with Pierre in P7 but things wouldn’t go his way today. Lewis got away well, leading the race within the first few seconds. As the laps built up Pierre started to fall down the ranks, slowly losing out on the points. He’d done well after that though, he’d started to put in faster lap times however it wasn’t enough. He ended up finishing just outside the points at P11. You had a defeated look on your face as you glanced out to the track, something Toto noticed. 

“And you still think he’s good enough to win a race?” Toto turned his head and looked down at you with an unimpressed look. 

“You know what? I do think he can win a race. I’m that confident, I think he’ll win this year.” You shrugged him off, getting up and leaving the garage to watch the ceremony. You didn’t care for his pettiness right now. You knew you had nothing to apologise for and you certainly weren’t going to suck up to Toto just for an apology. 

“y/n?” A soft voice called for you. Turning around you met the kind eyes of Susie. She held her arms open for you, engulfing you in a hug before she spoke again. “You look well love, how are you?”

“Thank you, yes I’m fine.” You gave her a slight smile. “How are you? And Jack?”

“He misses you a lot.” Her head turned to Toto. “So does he.”

“Doesn’t act like it.” 

“It’s hard for him, seeing his daughter grow up -”

“Susie I grew up years ago. His problem is he’s afraid I’ll get hurt and whilst I appreciate that if I do get hurt then it’s my lesson to learn, not his.” 

“I know…” She gave you a defeated look. “Did you two speak today?”

“Briefly.”

“I thought he might have apologised today…” 

“Well if he had that in his head he clearly changed his mind.” Rolling your eyes you did your best to focus on the drivers receiving their trophies. 

“I don’t like seeing this family be torn apart.” 

“Tell that to Toto.” You gave her a look. “He started this, yes I understand both him and Pierre need to apologise to one another but he still didn't need to make those comments about me.”

“I know y/n.” Her weak smile grew. “I will talk to him, again… I can't promise anything but I will see what I can do.”

“You won’t have to do much.” Toto’s voice broke the two of you apart. “Can we talk? In my office?” 

Taking a quick glance back at the trophy ceremony which was now ending you turned back to your Dad and gave him a slight nod. Toto turned on his heel and walked off in front of you, turning his head slightly to make sure that you were following him before picking up the pace. He needed this, you both did. As you left Susie had the word's most enormous grin on her face, hopefully, now the two of you would finally talk things through.

—

The pair of you entered his office, Toto closed the door behind him, running a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath. His soft eyes met yours as he began to speak, laying his tryst in every word he spoke, hoping he could get through to you. 

“First of all you’re right.”

“I’m aware.”

He gave you a look before speaking again. “I was being selfish, I don’t want you getting hurt and it’s your life to live not mine. As your Dad I should have supported what was happening no matter what I think of him and then if things went wrong I should be here to pick up the pieces. I shouldn’t have made that comment about you and the ones about Pierre. y/n I am sorry.” 

“Do you mean it?”

“Every single word.” His eyes were sincere. “I promise you.” 

“And what about Pierre?” You arched your brows.

“What about him?” 

“Are you going to apologise to him too?” 

“Maybe -”

“Dad!” 

“He started it!” 

“Are you four? This has nothing to do with who started it!”

“I still don’t like him.” He huffed. 

“I’m not asking you to like him, I’m asking you to tolerate him whilst the two of us are friends.” 

“Clearly more than that.” 

“Stop it!” You held your arm out, scolding him like he was a child which only made him laugh. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll work on an apology and talk to him.” Toto stepped forward, holding his arms out which allowed you to fall into his chest. He grabbed his arms around you, making sure you couldn’t leave that fast. The small feeling of a hug brought him so much joy. “And I’ll tolerate him, to an extent.” 

You pulled away slightly looking up at him with a smile. “Good.”

“Does he make you happy?” 

“Yes…”

“In what way?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you and him together?”

“No well… not that I know of. We’re just friends -”

“Who sleep together?”

“The very same relationship you had with my mother.” You hit back, stepping back with a grin which Toto mirrored. 

“Enough about Gasly, are you flying to the next race with us or are you going with him?” 

“Have you forgotten we all get the same flight?”

“I know but are you planning to sit with him or me?”

“Think I might pick Pierre, you snore too much -”

“And he doesn’t?”

“No actually.” You smiled. “He’s rather silent when he sleeps.”

“Don’t tell Susie,” Toto remarked. “She might leave me for him.”

“Can you blame her?” You teased as the pair of you left the office together. He still had work to do but it was a start, he showed that although he may hate Pierre he was willing to at least try and get along with him for you. You just hoped that was true. 

—

You were now boarding the plane with Toto and Susie when you turned your head slightly and met the eyes of Pierre. Everyone at F1 other than the few odd drivers all took the same plane to races. At the end of the day, it was cheaper that way and it made everything more enjoyable as you never had to sit next to a screaming child but rather an f1 driver who would reminisce on their karting days. 

As you boarded Toto caught you constantly looking behind you, it was only when his eyes landed on the Frenchman he caught on to what or rather who you were looking at. He rolled his eyes at the interaction, fighting everything in his body that told him to make a comment but you’d only just forgiven him for everything that had happened a few weeks ago so he kept his mouth shut. If he wanted to keep you happy he’d just have to accept that his daughter had her sights on a Formula 1 driver. 

As the three of your boarded Toto watched Pierre lean in and whisper in your ear, whatever he said made you laugh before he walked to find his seat. 

“Go and sit with him.” Toto spoke, looking back at Pierre who had a seat free beside him and who was also watching you eagerly. 

“You know that’s now how a plane works.”

“Look at your seat number then.” He gave you a light smirk as you checked your ticket, the seat you had was directly beside Pierre. “How did you -”

“First part of the apology. I’m not going to control your life, if you want to sit with him then I won’t stop you. I know you’d rather talk with him the whole flight than listen to me complain about how Verstappen won over Lewis.” 

You gave him a quick short hug as you spoke. “Thank you.” 

Perhaps Pierre and Toto would finally get along, one day.

You quickly walked down the aisle to a very happy Pierre. He leant back in his seat with a smug grin at the fact you’d chosen to sit with him rather than Toto and Susie after your actions clearly displayed that the two of you were back on good terms again. 

“Couldn't stay away long huh?” He remarked as you placed your bags away. 

“You can thank my Dad for that.” You moved to sit beside the window before shifting to face him. “Well done at the race by the way.”

“It was a shit race y/n don’t lie to me.” 

“You’ve had worse.”

He let out a small grin at your optimism. “You have a point.” 

“Exactly so don’t worry about it. You’ll improve next week, I know you will.”

“So full of optimism y/n.” He smiled. “How do you do it?”

“When you work in this sport you need to be full of it.” 

“That along many other things.” He added. 

“Exactly so take my word for it and be done with it. Realistically you can’t change what happened in the past so why linger on it? The more you linger on it the more opportunities that’ll pass you by and you might miss one that’ll change your life.” 

Pierre looked at you, stunned by the words that had just come out of your mouth. Normally when he was pissed off everyone would just agree and move on but you would actually listen to him and give him advice.

God, he was falling hard. 

“You’re perfect…” He muttered. 

You were about to ask him what he said but the voice of the pilot brought the conversation to a halt but even after your seemingly innocent conversation Pierre also had another thing on his mind, a way to punish you. 

“Do you remember I said to you I was going to punish you last time we slept together?”

“Yeah.” You looked at him just as the air hostesses did their final safety checks. “Why?”

“No reason.” His hand slid to your thigh. “Just wanted to see if you remembered really.” 

“And if I didn’t?”

“Just another punishment that’ll be added to the list but right now you’re about to serve your first one.” His hand dared to go higher as he slowly traced patterns on your skin. 

“Pierre we’re on a plane.”

“I’m well aware of that.” He smirked as he slipped his hand higher and towards where you wanted him. “But no one will hear you moan when the plane takes off, you know it can get loud.”

“Pierre there are people around us -”

“Then you better be quiet and not squirm or they’ll watch you cum over my fingers whilst the entire grid sits around us.”

“I fucking hate you.” You moaned those words as he slipped his hand under and into the thin material of your underwear, using his frame to hide what was happening between the two of you. 

“Mon amour,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You fucking love me.”

He might be right there. 

He let his fingers trace your slit which only added to your wetness. Knowing anyone could look and see the two of you made you even wetter, not to mention he was a rival driver, to an extent anyway. 

“Pierre don’t be a tease, not now. I’ll let you tease all you want later -”

“Why’s that love? Are you scared someone will see you getting all wet over my fingers?”

You gripped the seat even tighter as the plane started to take off. Your hips bucked slightly, an attempt for him to keep going. 

“Christ you’re so wet… all for me…” He planted a kiss on your cheek as he slipped his fingers inside of you. The action alone makes you throw your head back slightly and let out a gasp. “Such a good girl for me y/n…” He angled himself so he could rub your clit with his thumb.

“Pierre please…”

“Please what?” He moved his fingers slowly before placing a small kiss to your neck. “Use your words, my girl, I know you can…” 

“Please speed up.” 

“What love?” His fingers moved quicker out of you before speeding up but it didn’t last long. He suddenly slowed down and moved back to fucking you on his fingers to rubbing your clit faster. “What do you want? Do you want me to fuck you fast or play with your clit fast?”

“Both!” You nearly moaned the word as you bucked your hips onto his fingers. “Please Pierre…”

“Beg.” He used his free hand to turn your jaw towards him before planting a sweet yet demanding kiss on your lips. 

“Please Pierre, please I want to cum over your fingers.”

“Yeah?” He kissed you again. “How bad?” 

“So badly Pierre, please. I want you.” 

“Yeah?” He started to speed up, feeling the dampness spread across his fingers and onto your underwear. He smirked to himself knowing for the entire time you had them you would think of him and this moment. “Then cum sweetheart, cum all over my fingers whilst the entire grid sits near us, such a slut being so desperate for me right now.”

“If you’re lucky I’ll fuck you in the bathroom.” You gasped as you felt your orgasm approach you. 

“Oh will you now?” He leant in again, kissing you again. “I think we both know I’ll be the one fucking you.”

“Make me cum and we’ll find out.” 

Your words only made Pierre speed up and add more pressure to your clit. The feeling built up in your stomach, your hips started to buck against his hand, adding more pleasure. Pierre smirked at the way you now held onto his arm whilst you looked into his light eyes. 

“Pierre I’m -”

“Cum for me. I don’t want you to hold back.” 

Needless to say, you came hard around his fingers, trying your best to suppress a loud moan as the plane took off. Squeezing your legs as you came Pierre retracted his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth so he could suck them clean. 

“You taste so sweet…” His eyes darted back to your state, your head leant against the chair as you calmed your breathing. “You sure you can handle me fucking you in the bathroom.” 

Turning your head you grinned, winking as you sat up and undone your seatbelt. “I’ll meet you in there Gasly.” 

Pierre smirked to himself as he watched you walk off, a sway in your step which he watched with glee. Toto picked his head up as he watched you walk past him and headed off to the toilet. He didn’t pay much mind until he saw Pierre follow your actions a mere minute later. 

“Are they?” He turned to Susie before looking back in the direction you and Pierre had walked off in. Susie followed his gaze, smiling and suppressing a laugh as she caught on to what he was alluding to. 

“Well if they are, I hope you don’t need the toilet anytime.”

—

Taglist: @honeybadger03​ @unicornfairytail​ @iamasimpingh0e​ @katcontrreras​ @ferraribarca @peakywitch​ @teamspideyman @vio111a @hayleyy-l @lovingroscoee​ @theplobnrgone​ @nienkek @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy

[psychedelic-ink]

Million Dollar Man | Chapter Two - Heart in a Cage

series summary: Two years had passed since your break up with Jack, a fellow Statesmen agent. But everything re-ignites again when Champ asks you to go San Francisco to investigate the disappearance of multiple women across the country and, sadly enough, agent Malibu. While doing anything with Jack is chaos enough, you also run in to another ex, a man that actually showed you kindness and someone you thought you could spend the rest of your days with that is until he started asking too many questions about your job, Frankie Morales.

pairing(s): jack daniels x fem!reader, past frankie morales x fem!reader, eventual (+endgame pairing) jack daniels x fem!reader x frankie morales

chapter summary: Tensions rise high between you and Jack when your suspect, Arthur Dunn, manages to escape. Frankie gets wrapped up in Statesman business.

word count: 8.8k

chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence, canon typical violence, gory imagery, mentions human trafficking, alcohol consumption, near death experience, lots of nicknames being used by Jack (buttercup, baby girl, sugar etc.), oral (receiving), dirty talking, imagined voyeurism (feat. frankie), cumming on body, piv, angst, a brief panic attack, spoilers for kingsman the golden circle

a/n: sorry that it's been so long everyone, hopefully you'll all enjoy the new chapter &lt;3

masterlist | series masterlist | playlist | series inspo board | AO3

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The clock ticks. The air inside the hotel room is still, silent, heavy with made mistakes. Every small movement of the hour hand makes a sharp sound, it’s in sync with the beating of your heart. Your eyes flicker to the wall, the round object taunting you both. You feel suffocated, unable to breathe. Jack’s sitting on the couch, his legs spread wide as he bounces one up and down. His head snaps to the clock. 

“For fucks sake–” 

Hauling himself up, he stomps towards where your gaze lays and yanks the clock off of the wall, leaving a round, brighter color of plaster behind. With a grunt he throws it across the room, it shatters at impact, glass shards flying everywhere. Your eyebrows raise but you’re not surprised. Jack didn’t like failure, no one really did, but he despised it. Dragging your gaze to him, you see that he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily. 

“You should calm down,” 

“Calm down, you say?” his eyes fall to you, his hand dropping from his face. “I’m going to jerk a knot in your tail girl, it’s your fault we’re in this situation in the first place,” 

“My fault?” your voice raises a pitch but you don’t get up from the bed. “How is it my fault?” 

“If you hadn’t been busy flirtin’ with your man–” 

“My man?” you sneer and get up, anger bubbles inside you. “You were the one groping me during the job. It was like you were marking your territory, I mean you might as well just peed all around the table!” 

Silence follows your outburst. He stares at you a moment too long before lowering his gaze, Jack lets out a stuttered breath. You know you’re right but you still can’t help but feel bad. The air is still heavy with tension, pressing your nails into your palms, you tear your eyes away from him. Your thoughts return to Frankie and your last moments together at the bar. You foolishly told him that you would call, well that will soon prove to be a big fat lie now wouldn’t it? 

“We should go to bed, this argument is pointless. You put a tracker on him didn’t you? We’ll follow him tomorrow,” 

He stills, eyes a shade darker as he looks at you with a questioning gaze. An unsettling feeling blossoms across your skin. 

“You want me to sleep on the couch?” 

You know that at this point if you say yes, he’d probably spend the night on the couch. Shaking your head, you turn to the bed and pull at the sheets. 

“No,” you answer, voice barely a whisper. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, you should get some decent sleep,” 

“Thank you, sugar.” 

The soft baritone of his voice surprises you. He heads for the mini fridge and begins to prepare himself a drink. You're dazed, not really knowing whether you should close the light, join him, or talk about what happened earlier tonight. You think this is the closest Jack has ever come to apologizing for anything, maybe he’s actually changed after all this time. Or maybe he’s grown softer with age. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Pouring myself a drink before bed,” he remarks, pouring whiskey into an old-fashioned glass. The gold liquid sloshes around, the ice coming up to the surface. “You want one?” 

“Sure,” 

“Mind getting the lights?” 

Your movements are sluggish as you walk and turn the lights off with a sheer click. The city illuminates half of Jack’s face, a soft light softening the sharp edges and hiding the other half in darkness. Your eyes adjust to the shadows on your way back, you crawl under the sheets, back pressed against the wall while you wait for Jack to join you. Some part of you almost hears a soft hum of a melody, it’s reminiscent of the times Jack would sing a lullaby to you on nights you couldn’t sleep. His southern drawl enough to relax your mind and pull it down into a peaceful slumber. The pleasant sound of liquid spilling into glass fills the room, soon he joins you, extending you a whiskey with a twist. Just how you like it. 

Your pulse picks up when you feel his knee graze upon your bare thigh. Images of an airplane bathroom floods your mind, the way your body contorted with pleasure in the reflection of the mirror as he took you from behind– Swallowing, you press your legs together, the heat between them growing. 

Unaware of your predicament, Jack swirls the glass and takes a sip. His dark gaze is fixated ahead, it almost seems like he’s avoiding looking at you. 

“I am sorry,” he croaks, your eyes go wide. “I didn’t mean to bring out any ol’wounds. How–” Jack swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “How did you two break up?” 

Your eyes flicker to him, brows knitted together as you bite the inside of your cheek. Jack clicks his jaw, fingers twitching around the glass. He takes another sip and swirls the liquid in his mouth, the moisture on his lips glistening under the city’s faint light. You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s also never asked about your relationships, even when you were together, he just didn’t seem to care. When you commented on it he’d said;

“All that matters to me is that you’re mine in current time, I don’t care about your past nor future if it’s not with me. Why pain myself with the thought of you being with someone else?” 

“He asked a lot of questions,” you mutter, pressing the cool glass rim to your lips. The citrus flavor makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth. “You know the rules, we can’t talk about Statesman business,” 

Finally he turns to you, his eyebrows drawn together as his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips. 

“A technicality? That’s why you broke up with him?” he tuts. “Poor fellow,” 

“Frankie was suspicious, I didn’t want to keep lying to him– He was also scared I was…doing something else,” 

“Something else?” 

“Never mind,” you shake your head. “Anyway, that’s pretty much it. There wasn’t much else to do at that point,”

“You could’ve told him the truth,” 

“Why do you even care, Jack?” 

Annoyance laces itself into your tone. Placing the half empty glass to the bedside table, you slid down into the sheets and lay on your back, staring at the dark ceiling with guilt thrumming in your ears. His dry laughter reaches you, encircling you like a snake. 

“I don’t,” 

“Fine, then shut up about it.” 

Jack downs the rest of his drink and kicks the sheets off of him as he lays down. A broken sigh falls from his lips, a tremble in his chest when he turns to lay on his front. Again, Jack leaves you simmering in your own anger, now guilt sprinkled into the mix. He’d said it as if telling the truth was the easiest thing to do. There are rules that need to be followed. You can’t just say you’re a Statesman agent to the first person that’s nice to you. 

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Frankie is much more than someone who was nice to you. 

You feel like a fool. You actually thought a conversation with Jack would end up being a decent one. Shame on your part. You should know better than to hope that the man has changed. He is still the asshole you once loved. Or maybe still love. You don’t know. He brings out the worst in you. Heart heavy in your chest, the feeling of it makes you toss and turn under the sheets. With a hitched breathing, you turn to your side, back facing Jack, and curl up into a small ball. There’s no way you can sleep now. Not with your mind in a fiddle. 

The silence of the room fills with your heavy breathing. At least that’s what it feels like. Tears flood your lash line, threatening to fall as whimper after whimper stumbles out of your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, lashes now wet. 

Your side of the bed dips with Jack inching closer to you. His strong arm falls above your waist and pulls you close, flush against his chest. His chin is pressed snug on top of your head, Jack’s fingers find their way under your shirt and with a hum he draws lazy circles across your soft stomach. Goosebumps burst across your skin, the fine hairs on the back of your neck raising with his warm breath raking across your skin. 

“Calm down sunshine,” he mutters, voice heavy with sleep. “You worry your pretty head way too much,” 

“I can’t help it,” you’re not sure what’s happening to you, a tear escapes your eye and you tremble. “You don’t understand– I just never wanted to hurt him,” 

“I know,” 

“He was there for me when you weren’t. He… You don’t get to say stuff like that to me. It’s not fair,” 

The silence is dreadful. 

His thumb still moves across your skin, but now it feels as if it belongs to a stranger. It’s uncomfortable. You can almost almost hear his heartbeat, unlike yours, it beats steady in his chest. He slowly breathes out, the soft curls of your hair move along with the puff of air. When he speaks, your heart is about to leap out from your throat. 

“You shouldn’t pay much attention to me,” his words unrushed, he takes his time pronouncing every word. “I didn’t mean to pry. I certainly didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” 

“Whatever, let’s just go to sleep,” 

Despite choosing to be petty, you can’t help the shake in your voice. Anger boils in your gut and you want him to feel it. And he does, by the way his thumb stills on your skin and the way he pulls an inch away, the curve of his nose now pressing against the back of your head. Jack doesn’t utter another word, and soon you hear soft snores making their way out of his lips, his arm still sprawled on top of you. You don’t move away. You don’t want to. Your anger fades, his warmth caressing your skin akin to soft waves. 

The tears in your eyes dry away, your heart once again beating steadily. 

You take in a deep, long breath, the air that surrounds the two of you is crisp, it chills your lungs. The cold nipping your skin as you follow Jack uphill. The Santa Cruz mountains are quite refreshing compared to the hustle and bustle of the city. Noticing the soft orange rays adding color to the otherwise blue sky, you stop and turn your gaze towards the horizon. The sun is only now rising. With a sudden call that came in last night from Ginger, you learned that Arthur Dunn had fled to the top peak of the Santa Cruz mountains. Which was odd, considering Ginger told you there was nothing up there. You and Jack had gotten ready in a hurry, both of you annoyed about being woken up so early. 

“I swear if you we go up there and there’s nothin’ I’m gonna throw a fit,” 

Sighing, you drag your gaze away from the view and to Jack. Rolling your shoulders, you speed up after him. 

“Why do you always give her such a hard time?” you scold him. “She’s amazing at her job, you know this, I know this– hell the entire Statesmen knows this!” 

Jack scoffs, the tips of his mustache flickering. You roll your eyes, grabbing the straps of your bag, you hug it closer. 

“She wants to work in the field you know,” 

He stays silent, only the occasional branch or two napping under his boots. You lick your lips, the air has thinned, making you spit cotton. 

“Why do you always vote against her?”

This was one of those questions that you were always curious about but never had the courage to ask. Ginger, for the longest time, longed to be an agent, to work in the field. She loved her current place in Statesmen and knew it was important, but she also wanted a taste of the action which you understood. But whenever she had the guts to actually put herself out there, Jack voted against it. It had to be unanimous. You hated seeing her so broken down after each vote. And this situation only added to the bad blood between Ginger and Jack. It’s an odd thing to worry about considering your own issues with him but you desperately craved a distraction. 

“Look, sugar, I know she’s your friend and all but,” he stops mid sentence, gazing ahead. A second later he chews on his bottom lip and kicks a small stone. “She’s not ready for the field. Bless her heart. She’ll just end up getting hurt,” 

“That’s not your decision to make Jack,” 

“Isn’t it?” he keens with a wide grin. “Then tell me, why do we cast a vote?” 

Touche. 

His chuckle is a baritone, clear and far-reaching. He got you good, you’ll have to hand it to him. 

“Still, you’re too hard on her,” 

“Why the sudden queries about Ginger, buttercup? Spit it out,” 

You shrug, your feet digging into the dirt a bit deeper with your next steps, “There’s nothing to spit out. Just curious,” a hum vibrates in your throat. “So, you’re just worried she’ll get into trouble huh? Get hurt?” 

“I worry about everyone equally, we’re Statesmen. We look out for each other,” 

“Aw, you’re just a huge pile of marshmallows underneath that mean face, aren’t you?” 

“Who’s out there sayin’ I have a mean face?” he grunts, his voice a tone lower, barely audible, but the wind carries his words to you. 

“Mostly me,” with a grin you gently bump your shoulder into his. “It’s nice to see this side of you. Sometimes I forget you’re actually a good person,” 

“Well, you fell for me for a reason, so I’m guessing that must be it.” 

That, you were not expecting. Your heart skips a beat, body burning despite the cool, morning air. For some reason you thought he wasn’t aware of how much you cared in the past, even if everything that he did told you otherwise. You suck in a deep breath, eyes watering as it burns your throat. You decide not to say anything or add to it. The constant bickering exhausted you. It ate you whole and spat you out with every word said. However, it doesn’t matter if you don’t reply to him. His sentence sticks to you like a tick, you’re unable to remove it and it keeps sucking your life source, making you feel nauseous. 

You fall behind, staring at Jack’s back as his long legs take him further away. Unconsciously your hand ghosts over the rope that dangles from your waist, the material itself isn’t heavy, but it might as well be made of iron.  

You must be getting closer to Loma Prieta, the highest peak the Santa Cruz mountains has to offer, seeing how Jack’s demeanor changes. He hunches over, steps having more of a jump to them as he scans between the many sequoia, pine and oak trees. 

A sudden gust of wind blows, urging you to look up towards the peak. A cumulonimbus cloud swirled at the summit, its tall, column-like appearance intimidating. Very faintly, you see the color of lighting crackling among the gray, a burst of light followed by a deafening sound. Air hurls between you and Jack, the rope on your hip fluttering and slapping your thigh as you try to move forward. The sheer force of it makes your eyes water, it makes it hard to breathe. 

“Did you know there was gonna be a storm today?” you shout, shielding your eyes. 

“No,” Jack screams back, he slows down, waiting for you to catch up. “It might be a trick to keep people away. Do you see that?” 

He points towards the top, his lips an inch away from your ear as he fights the wind so his voice can reach you. Squinting, you follow his finger. You see a small outline of a building, it’s hidden among the thick flora but you can definitely see it. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s where– Shit–” 

With another strong gust of wind blowing past you, you stumble back, nearly toppling . over. Jack moves swiftly and without effort, he helps you regain your balance by wrapping an arm around your waist. He pushes you back up, a glimpse of worry in his eyes. 

“You alright?” 

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” 

His attention drifts back to the building that gets closer with every step, his arm never leaving you as you walk against the wind, it’s the best security rope you’ve ever had. 

The rest of the hike carries on without another word. It’s impossible to hear one another over the wind, and as the building looms over the two of you, it’s easy to shift back into work mode. You focus your senses, eyes flickering to every sound you manage to pick up despite the storm. The lightning quickly becomes more frequent, leaves and dust lifting off of the ground. Jack pulls you tight against his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll fly away, and leans down to speak into your ear. 

“We should call Ginger, she might be able to pick off heat waves of who’s there when we’re closer,” 

You nod, the building finally coming into view. A moat full of water surrounds it, a handful of stairs leading up to the main facility, a glass wall bordering around it. Blue lights buzzed in the glass, the color inching up the dark gray walls. Jack pulls you down behind a bush. Funnily enough you can’t spot any guards covering the multiple entrances. Either they’re stupid, or this is a trap. 

He pulls out his Statesmen glasses, the nose pieces shifting down as he puts them on. 

“Ginger, you there?” 

“Yes, Agent Whiskey,” 

The modulated voice echoes in your ears. 

“We’re here, can you tell us how many complications we should be expecting?” 

Soft taps against the keyboard and her voice buzzes in your ears once more. 

“I can’t get a proper reading, there’s something disturbing our channels,” she says, sounding concerned. “You two should be careful, that storm isn’t normal,” 

“Figured,” you grunt. “I swear, everyone’s an evil genius these days. So annoying,” 

Jack’s gaze flickers to you, a grin spread across his face. 

“We don’t know if he’s a genius yet sweetheart, don’t get your panties in a twist just yet. In any case, we should head out,” 

“Good–” 

“Ginger Ale, wait,” 

“Yeah?” 

She sounds a bit surprised, and worried. Which is a common thing whenever Jack addresses anyone with such an urgent tone. 

“Thank you,” 

You’re pleasantly surprised. A satisfying tingle of actually getting through to the stubborn man makes you smile to no end. In fact, you’re grinning like an idiot, unable to stop despite your cheeks beginning to ache. Ginger must’ve been shocked too because she doesn’t answer for a while, the only thing indicating that she’s still on the line is her subtle breathing. 

“You’re…welcome?” 

When a giggle forces its way out of your tightly pressed lips, Jack shots you a glare. Ginger clears her throat. 

“Anyway, good luck agents.” 

And she’s offline. You can imagine her telling Tequila about this, you’re definitely going to write this moment in your diary; The day Jack actually thanked someone. God is real. 

“Shut up,” 

“I didn’t say anything,” 

“I can see the wheels turn in your head, girl–” he huffs, brows knitted together. “It’s not that big of a deal,” 

“Well it is to me,” your wide grin softens into a smile, reaching out, you delicately trace your fingers down his jawline. “And probably Ginger,” 

“I don’t know why you think she cares so much about this,” 

“I don’t think I know. Besides a little praise hurt no one,” 

The wind blows again, and you think it drowns out the rest of your words. But he heard you, loud and clear. You fail to notice the mischievous curl of his lips, his fingers lacing into yours, he drags the inside of your palm to his lips. The feeling erodes your skin, goosebumps rising not because of the cold or the harsh wind, but because of the softness of his touch. He presses a tender kiss, the bridge of his nose nestling against the curve of your palm. Jack continues to mold his lips into your skin, moving lower and lower, until he reaches the vein curving along your wrist, your rising blood pressure makes it pop. Your breathing caught in your throat, your lungs stuttered in your chest, not knowing what to do. 

“If you wanted my praise you should’ve just said so, sugarcube,” he mutters, the ticklish sensation spreads from your wrist and makes the entirety of your body tremble. “What do you want to hear? How gorgeous I think you are? How I want to devour your very being so you can’t go anywhere? How I think you’re the perfect agent for any of mission?” 

Eyebrows rising, your eyes grow wide. It feels like the storm is a manifestation of your thoughts. Chaotic, spiraling, confusing. His lips move along your inner arm, the soft skin burning with every scalding press of his mouth. You’re frozen. Body unable to move. Jack reaches the inside of your elbow, the wetness of his tongue leaving a wet trail that chills as soon as he moves away. 

Bells start ringing in your ears. It’s loud, shrill. Nothing but red flags appear before your eyes, the color of blood waving across your sight as his lips bury themselves into the crook of your neck. 

You jump away with panic surging through your veins. Heart beating in your throat as you fall and land on your bottom. Jack looks down at you confused, lips still parted. The moment is still in time, a bubble forming around you when the heated moment turns icy cold. He licks his lips and once again the world around you shifts, time moving forward.  Swallowing, Jack rips his gaze away from you and stands up. 

“Let’s go,” 

Never in your life could you imagine him sounding so cold. Especially towards you. 

Splitting up is a rookie mistake, but one Jack feels like he is forced to do. 

The clean halls echoe with his footsteps, everything is too damn white, too damn bright. He hates infiltrating and having to be sneaky, he was always a more guns blazing type of guy. And if he was alone for this mission, he might as well have done just about that. But he can’t risk it, not when you’re with him. Jack would rather get strapped up into one of those hospital beds and get experimented on than to see you get hurt because of him. He’s made that mistake once, he wasn’t keen on making it again. 

However, he contradicted himself. If he really didn’t want you getting hurt, he wouldn’t have offered that the two of you should split up. He couldn’t help it. Not after seeing the look in your eyes when you backed away from him, nothing but fear swirling in them. He hated seeing you like that. He hated that he was the one causing it. He’d damaged you, hurt you beyond repair. Never would he have thought that that hurt would make you fear him. But oddly enough, that same fear gave him the power to comfort you. In a way.

Jack still remembers how you spiraled down the clear signs of a panic attack. Then, the fear, the hurt, had granted him some sort of power over you. He couldn’t quite understand it nor did he care that much about it. If it’s the fear that’s going to help you, force you to calm down, then so be it. He’d be the villain to your salvation. 

He had you, but he also didn’t. A curse. 

Jack’s steps slow down. Maybe he shouldn’t have let you wander alone, you’re an exceptional agent, but considering recent events, he isn’t sure how put together your mind is. Internally cursing at himself, he’s just about to turn on his heel and head back, but a loud buzzing echoes between the walls, a murmur of words following soon after. 

“What was it again? Agent Whiskey? Okay, alright–” whoever is talking clears their throat. “Agent Whiskey! This is Arthur, from the bar, and we have your girlfriend so, if you don’t want me to hurt her–” 

“Oh screw you, you pompous–” 

Relief washes over him upon hearing your voice, until then he hadn't realized how fast his heart was beating. 

A growl is heard, and it’s soon followed with a violent sound of a punch. Jack’s blood starts to boil, seeing a set of stairs heading down, he quickly makes his way towards it and goes down them two at a time. He sees nothing but red.

“Anyway, like I said, if you don’t want her hurt– at least more than she already is– I advise you to– Oh there you are!”

Jack’s pulse picks up as he sees the sharp edge of a blade digging into your neck. Your arms are tied behind you, a thick layer of sweat coating your skin. Upon noticing a dark red circling the skin of your right eye, Jack grits his teeth together, the sound of it makes his stomach churn. He sees the thirst for blood lingering in Arthur’s eyes, he wouldn’t hesitate to press the blade a little bit deeper in order to end your life right then and there. He’s holding a microphone in his other hand, which he drops as soon as he sees Jack. 

“There you are, now tell me,” he leans in closer to you, his disgusting cheek pressing against yours. He notes the way you wrinkle your nose. “Why are you two looking for me?” 

Jack’s fingers twitch, the tips hovering an inch away from his trusty bullwhip. He takes a slow step forward, Arthur’s gaze flickers to his feet, Jack takes another step. 

“We just wanted to ask a couple of questions–” 

He stops when he sees a drop of blood trickling down your neck, you hiss but instead of squeezing your eyes shut, they’re glued to Jack, searching him for any kind of silent plan he can relate to you. Sadly, he has none. 

“Stay back,” Arthur squeaks, blue eyes delirious. “I can hear you fine from there cowboy,” 

Jack shakes his head, hands raised. “Don’t squat on your spurs son. I’m just trying to talk, just take a breath,” 

The man eyes him suspiciously which Jack couldn’t care about in the slightest. His sole attention is focused on you. He allowed this to happen. Him and his stupid ego. This is why he never wanted you for this mission, you are his poison, he can’t think clearly when he’s with you. Your smell, your voice, your touch. All of it is enough for him to relapse into his old habits. He would burn the world for you, and there isn’t a damn soul out there who didn’t know this. Well, everyone except you. 

Jack meets your gaze, this time he sees no fear, only relief. He shoots you a crooked smile accompanied with a wink, a wordless signal that tells you everything would be alright. He’s delighted when he sees the faint quiver of your lips curling up. 

“We just wanted to ask if you knew anything about the disappearance of multiple women,” he says, his tone lighthearted and calm, despite the storm roaring inside him. Arthur winces, which answers Jack’s question. “So you do,” he muses, cocking an eyebrow. 

“I–” Arthur shakes his head. “He’ll kill me, I’m not telling you two nothing.” 

Arthur steps back, a slight tremor in his arm. The unstable movement makes the blade cut further into your skin, this time your eyes do squeeze shut, your breathing hitched as a pain filled whimper escapes you. 

“I might do a lot worse if you don’t let her go boy,” he threatens, lowering his arms and grabbing the handle of his bullwhip. “Choose your next moves very carefully,” 

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he cooes. “I know exactly what my next move is,” 

There’s a press of a button and you vanish, the sound of wind rushing inside as raindrops loudly hit the metal floor. Arthur’s grin spreads wide and wicked. 

You’re gone.

“How about that, now I have only one of you to worry about. Isn’t that lovely?” 

“Greyhound!” 

There’s a shake in Jack’s movements. He lunges towards the giant door Arthur had opened up, he ignores the needle like sensation of the cold raindrops and throws his bullwhip forward, hoping that the end of it will catch you and bring you up to safety. But before he can get a clear sight of you, Arthur comes in between him and the door, striking a knee right into Jack’s ribs. 

“She’s gone son,” he mocks, he lifts a foot, and stomps it into Jack’s chest. The air gets knocked out of his lungs, chest squeezing tightly. “Now I’ll just have to kill you and that’ll be that,” 

Jack doesn’t move. His body feels like it’s nailed to the floor, all sensations of life draining from his limbs. He remembers all those times he woke up drenched in sweat after being shown horrid images of losing you. Now, his body is fading into the same routine of paralyzation. The moment of Arthur throwing you down the mountain plays out before him in a loop. He can’t move, he can’t speak, his vision blurry with dark spots hovering above him. His mouth is dry as a desert. He actually did it, you’re gone, and it’s because of him. He can’t even process it. A world without you? Without your voice, your nagging and glares. Is that a world even worth living in? 

His eyes follow the way Arthur’s lips move but he can’t hear him, a sheer ringing in his ears makes everything else fade away. 

The last thing he sees is the light bouncing off the blade and blinding him. 

All he feels is the grief running through him, making him unwilling to defend himself. 

“Greyhound!”

That’s the last thing you hear before the ground disappears from underneath you, the blade replaced with the harsh chafe of the wind and the sting of rain. The scenery of mountains spin before your eyes, it makes you feel sick, bile rising up to your throat. 

It takes you a moment before you realize that you’re falling. 

“Shit shit shit!” 

You adjust your position by drawing large circles with your arms, heaving a breath of relief, you stop madly spinning in the air and fall horizontally, at least now you have a bit more time until you break like a watermelon against the earth’s crust. 

The sting on your neck is still fresh, pain blossoming as the wind passes through you. Horror and dread thrumming in your ears, you forcefully pull your hand up to your earpiece and manage to call Ginger. 

“Agent Greyhound!” she shouts, making you wince. “What happened? Where are you? Your heart rate is off the charts!” 

“I’m falling!” you shout back, panic laced in your voice. “Ginger I’m gonna fucking die what do I do? Help me out–” 

A furious staccato of clicking echoes in your ears and Ginger’s modulated, also panicked, voice follows. 

“Alright I locked in your coordinates and I’m sending aerial support right now but I need you to slow down,” 

“And how will I do that?” 

“Which shoes are you wearing?” 

“I do not think now is the best time to criticize my wardrobe Ginger!” 

The grassy ground grows closer and closer, fear spikes in your gut as death looms over you. 

“Are you wearing the Statesmen issued boots or not?” 

You vaguely remember putting them on this morning, groaning as they squeezed your feet. 

You nod despite her not being able to see, then you add, “Yes– fuck– yes!” 

“Click the heels together,” 

“What?” 

“Just do as I say and click the heels together!” 

It’s hard, moving your feet closer together as you’re falling, the wind forcing them apart, but somehow you manage to click them together. Heat spreads across the soles of your boots and a faint hiss reaches your ears. 

“Now move yourself so you’re falling vertically, like when you’re using a jetpack,” 

Without a word you do as you’re told. Frantically moving your arms, you finally take the position and you notice that instead of falling like a brick now you’re floating…again like a brick but you’re not going as fast as before. 

“Good, that’ll win us sometime,” more clicks follow. “It should be there in two seconds,” 

“What should be here?” your heart is still racing in your chest, the need to throw up now stronger than ever. “Also, shouldn’t you tell us that these uncomfortable shoes have other utilities?” 

“We gave you two a pamphlet–” 

“No one reads those things,” 

“Well maybe you should,” 

You sigh, your eyes fearfully looking down at the ground. It’s still growing closer, it’s going to take you a while till you hit the soil.

“How about we argue about this when I’m on solid ground,” 

“Agreed,” 

A soft hum echoes in the air and wires strap around your waist, your arms, then, just like that, your descent down turns into the opposite. Looking up you notice a rather large drone with the Statesmen logo on it, thank god. 

“Remind me to buy you a drink after this,” you mutter into the air piece. 

“Noted. I’m free this saturday,” 

Your body relaxes when the wind that was cutting into your skin ceases to exist. But that didn’t mean that the gusts coming from the storm didn’t send chills down your spine. The feeling reminds you of Jack, his blood curdling scream as you fell. Your heart beats with fear, you know that in a regular fight Jack can beat the likes of Arthur, but the circumstances are different. Rage will consume him, which is certain to bring his doom. 

“Is Jack alright?”

“Not for long,” 

Something bad is happening, you can hear it in her voice. You’re scared. Fear consumes you the same way rage would consume Jack. You can feel it sizzling across your skin, blood boiling within your fingertips. 

“Shit– he’s not listening to me,” Ginger’s tone is hushed, worried. “Greyhound, get ready.” 

The wires uncoil around you as soon as your feet grace the floor you were thrown off of not moments ago. Your eyes immediately land on the scene that was playing out, Jack on the floor, defeated with Arthur’s foot pushing him further into the surface. Why wasn’t he fighting back? Why wasn’t he– 

Time stops.

You see the reflection of light in the blade, Arthur’s hand raised up as he clutches the handle of the knife, you can see the white of his knuckles. 

Ironically enough, you were never one for needless violence. It’s something you frequently berate to your fellow agents, they make a show of the blood and gore. Especially Jack. He loves a good show.

But not you.

When time begins to flow again, everything around you moves in slow motion. 

The blade begins to descend down. Jack’s eyes read no emotion, there’s no light in them, no nothing. No force of survival. He doesn’t know you’re there. He doesn’t know you’re safe. 

With an iron cold gaze your fingers expertly remove the lasso from your waist. You hear the crackle of electricity as you throw it forward, the blue lighting blinding. It lights the room as if there’s a million news reporters inside. 

You blink.

You miss the moment rope cuts deep into his flesh, the sizzling echoing as screams accompany the sound.

When you open your eyes you see the blood splattered across both Jack’s and Arthur’s outfit. Tiny droplets of red serving proof of the violence that entails for this job. Your stomach churns, the taste of bile returns to your tongue. It’s a sickening sight and you do whatever you can not to move your eyes towards the lifeless limb that’s an inch away from Jack’s face. The fingers still loosely holding the blade. 

Arthur’s head snaps towards you, his other hand holding his wrist that now attaches to nothing. His eyes bore into you, anger and hatred evident in them. 

“You fucking bitch!” 

When Jack’s eyes meet yours, it’s like witnessing life being born. The light comes rushing back, his dark brown eyes now sparkling with specs of gold. His lips curl with disbelief and amazement. 

“You’re alive!” he shouts, his giddiness contagious as you smile back at him. “How on earth did you manage that?” 

“I told you, Ginger is really good her job,” 

“Well I’ll be–” 

Arthur glares down at Jack but before he can utter another word, Jack punches him square on his jaw. He falls back, falling unconscious as soon as his head meets the marble. Without casting Arthur a second glance, Jack gets up and hurries towards you with wide arms. He pulls you in for a tight embrace, the smell of pine and sweat engulfing you as you return the gesture with a hug of your own. 

“I’m so happy you're safe buttercup,” he mutters, his heart beating fast. “It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have–” 

His voice breaks and so does your heart. Pulling back, you hold his face between your hands, your gaze soft as you stare at him. 

“It’s alright. I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen to me, I’m right here,” 

“And you’re sure you’re not hurt?” 

“Positive,” 

“Okay,” his breath hitches, chest stammering. “Okay– I just–” he cuts himself off with a sigh and hugs you again, pressing your face into his chest. You hear his next words through the earpiece. “Ginger send in a cleaning crew. We got our suspect.” 

Everything had been wrapped up in a pretty red bow in the end; Arthur was brought in for further interrogation by Statesmen, they were also investigating the odd storm and the rest of the building. Meanwhile you and Jack had headed back for your last night at the hotel. 

Emotions still run high as you close the door with a push of a heel. Jack hadn’t said much during the road back, and him being silent always worries you. He throws his hat and jacket on to the couch and turns to you, you meet his gaze, warmth blossoming within your stomach when his eyes rake your body. 

“Come’re,” 

You don’t let him say it twice. Walking up to him, you just stare silently as he cups your cheeks, fingers gently caressing the skin, thumb grazing across the bruise that had gotten darker with time. 

“I need to touch you sweetheart,” he groans. “Can I?” 

Your eyes grow, and you blink rapidly. You’re surprised by the softness of his tone, melted caramel licking the inside of your ears. You sigh, nodding slowly. Jack leans forward, capturing your lips in mellow kiss. They move against yours sensually, he tilts his head, tongues shyly touching one another with deep gasps of each other's air. He takes a step, urging you to do the same but backwards. His lips and tongue devours you until the back of your knees hit the end of your bed, as you fall, his hand nestles above the small of your back and lays you down gently. 

“Jack…” you whisper and his eyes flicker to you, hands ghosting across your clothes as he crawls above your frame. You hadn’t turned the lights on. The familiar light of the city elevates his features like the night before, only this time it casts a soft yellow, a heavenly glow. An angel. Your lips brush against his, your words seeping into his skin. “Jack, I need you, please,” 

He doesn’t mock you. Doesn’t tease you. He licks the seam of your lips right before his mouth travels south, teeth nipping the sensitive skin of your neck. Your back arches, the wetness between your legs growing with every touch of his body. 

Jack strips you slowly. He takes his time, paying special attention to move his fingertips across every patch of your skin. While he removes your bra, his thumbs ghosts over your peaked nipples, you gasp, pushing more of the flesh into his open palms. He accepts the offering, squeezing them as he would a ripe peach. Then he leans in, taking a bite of the sweet fruit. You press your thighs together, moaning as he takes bite after bite, savoring your taste with the swipe of his tongue. 

Your hands move on their own accord, ripping away his stubborn buttons and throwing his shirt to god knows where. He chuckles, breathy and silent, as you spread your fingers over his chest. Jack pushes himself up your body, allowing you to trace your tongue across his sternum, your fingers pressing into his nipples. He quivers at the feeling, chin touching the top of your head as his breath hitches. 

“You have quite the appetite,” 

“I could say the same thing for you,” 

“You haven’t even scratched the surface of my hunger yet, pretty thing. I'm starving.” 

A disappointed whine parts from your throat when he slides down your body. But your disappointment is short lived as he pulls you to the edge of the bed, ass loosely hanging off, Jack throws your legs over his shoulders, face only an inch away from your core. His glance meets yours and you see nothing but the dark pits of lust. You whimper, body aching for his mouth. Without removing your underwear, he dips in, pressing the curve of his nose into your sex and inhaling deeply. His eyelids flutter, a groan rippling in his throat, he presses his mouth, tasting the remnants of your slick from over the already damp cloth. 

Only images of curse words you so desperately want to say appear before your eyes, you’re unable to speak, the pleasure making nothing other than moans fall from your lips. Jack continues to taste you, the sound of his deep breaths making slick drench the fabric. Pulling back, he removes the undergarment, hence stripping you of the last thing separating you two. Jack spreads your folds with his fingers and blows a puff of air, grinning wickedly as he sees the way your cunt flutters around nothing. 

“Jack stop playing with your food,” you hoped to sound more coy but instead it came out desperate and needy.

He stays silent. Allowing the words to linger in the air right before gliding his tongue between your folds, the tip ending on your clit, he presses against the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sudden burst of arousal makes your hips jolt, his tongue delves deeper, tracing the rim of your entrance before pushing through the tight muscle. Your hands find their way into his short hair, tugging at the dark locks, you pull him closer. 

Life is nothing but fleeting moments of chance. You could’ve died today. The same Statesmen agents that took away Arthur might’ve been scraping your remnants instead. And that would be it, the end of your journey. Life is delicate. The slightest breeze capable of altering your life course just like that. And that thought alone makes you yearn for the man eating you out like a starved man, you’re restless, nails scraping against his scalp as you pull him closer and closer. At this moment you don’t care if you’re needy, desperate. You don’t care if the two of you should be doing this considering your past. 

You just don’t fucking care anymore.  

“Jack just fuck me, pelase,” you cry out. “I can’t take it anymore,” 

“Not yet baby girl,” he groans into your core. “Want you to cum first, come on you can do it for us,” 

“Us?” 

You open your eyes, vision blurry, did you hear him right? Did he just say us? Your gaze lands between your legs, your breath hitches when you see that he’s already staring at you, a subtle curve of his lips peeking up. 

“I want you to close your eyes sugar, will you do that for me?” 

Nodding, you fall back and allow your eyes to flutter closed. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. “Now, wouldn’t it be fun for you to cum all over me while your darling Frankie watches? Hm?” 

It doesn’t take much for you to imagine Frankie there, your back arches, a wanton moan slipping past your lips while Jack’s fingers start to play with your clit. He mouths against your folds, still talking, pulling you further down into the darkest parts of your imagination. 

“He’s right there isn’t he? Sitting on the couch, stroking himself while watching me give you pleasure. He’s hard as a rock isn’t he? Tell me girl, tell me how big his cock is,” 

Your legs tremble and you fear you’re about to lose it. Unshed tears sting the corner of your eyes, heart beating at a maddening pace. He makes you imagine it so clearly that you can almost hear the lewdness of Frankie fucking his fist, his eyes focused, curls sticking to his head from the sweat– You gasp, rolling your hips into Jack’s mouth. He swipes his thumb over your clit once more before pushing two fingers in, your eyes roll back, your body tingles with want and need. 

“Answer me,” 

“He’s–” you swallow, mouth feeling incredibly dry. “He’s big–” 

“Bigger than me?” 

“T– fuck – Thicker than you, but–” you’re cut off when he purses his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking it into his mouth, your fingers tightens around his hair. “Y-You’re longer,” 

He hums, pulling back briefly to mutter another question into your core. 

“And what do you want him to do now, sweet girl?” 

“I-I want him to kiss me while you make me cum,” you gasp. 

His chuckle vibrates around your clit, the sensation makes your thighs close around his face. You can’t make out the line between what’s real or not anymore, you swear you hear footsteps nearing the bed. 

“Can’t really kiss you and lick you but I can offer this,” 

Light flashes before your eyes at the way he rolls his tongue after each word. And before you know it, you feel two wet fingers nudging at your lips. Greedily, you open up and suck him into your mouth, groaning at the bittersweet taste of yourself and the taste of his skin. Your lips move along his fingers as if you’re actually kissing someone, and after that no more words are spoken, Jack licks, sucks and nibbles. He doesn’t stop and soon, he has you cumming heavily into his mouth. 

He slurps hungrily, licking between your folds until he’s satisfied that he’s taken in every single drop. The sheer force of your orgasm makes your head spin, your breathing uneven and quick. You feel like you’re dying. It’s too much. The thoughts of Frankie, the lewdness of Jack’s mouth, all of it builds up inside you, wetness blossoming between your legs again– 

You bite his fingers. 

“Ouch!” 

Jack pulls back his hand and his mouth. Your dazed mind is only capable of making you whine and nothing else. Even then you’re still not quite aware of how hard you bit him, or if you even bit him at all. Only when he’s crawling up your body, muttering something along the lines of “you wild thing” you realize what you’ve done. A semblance that you need to apologize flickers in your muddled mind, but before you can, his lips press into yours. Jack sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth gently biting into the soft flesh and when you meet his gaze, his eyes sparkle and a sting of pain breaks out across the skin. 

“Ow!” 

He releases you with a child-like grin, both hands cup your breast and at the same time he mouths the underside of your jaw. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s treating you so well. The pain almost dissipates immediately, leaving only a pleasurable tingle in its wake. 

“Want me to fuck you now?” 

“That would be ideal, yeah,” 

When he slides into you, it’s so natural that you think that you imagine it. Jack buries his face into your neck, both hands gripping your head and pushing you back to have you expose more of your skin. He feasts as he thrusts into you, his strokes languid, forcing you to feel every inch. 

It doesn’t take him long to dangle you over the edge once more, the coil ready to snap as his hips picks up, fucking into you nice and hard. He breathes heavily, teeth sinking into your skin. Without an ounce of fight, you moan his name, over and over again. Begging, crying, heaving. 

You see a bright flash of white, mouth opening wide as you gush around him, cunt throbbing almost painfully while he continues to rock his hips. 

“That’s it baby,” he rasps. “Break down, let me feel you–” 

And suddenly you’re empty, cold. His body towers over you with his cock in his hand, soon you feel the scolding heat of his cum painting your worn out body. He heaves a sigh, head falling back as his lips part with your name. You watch as his body relaxes, he’s mesmerizing, and when he looks down at you, your heart nearly stops. Jack’s eyes are clouded when he leans down, his open palm smooths his seed over the skin of your stomach, you can see the way his eyelids flutter, his face full of something you can only describe as sorrowful. You’re not quite sure why though, there’s something else poisoning his mind and heart, something besides you.

Opening your arms, you wrap them around his broad shoulders and pull him down, the weight of his body makes you feel safe, secure. 

When you wake up the next morning you see Jack sleeping on the couch, fully clothed and clearly ready to move on.  

Maybe you should too. 

It’s good to finally be back and fall into your natural routine. You greet the other agent with the tip of your head, smiling to the ones who smile back. Jack’s sitting right across from you, looking at Champ’s direction. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since the last night at the hotel, so, business as usual. Tequila sits right next to you, his shoulder pressed snug against yours as he leans in and whispers about getting drink later on, just you, him and Ginger. 

When everyone takes their places, you notice Ginger at the end of the room and the lights go off, burying everyone in complete darkness. However, it doesn’t last long as Ginger slides her fingers across the surface of her trusty tablet. A hologram appears in the middle of the table, a faint shade of blue lighting up the faces of everyone inside. 

“Has the suspect said anything useful yet?” Champ speaks, his voice strong. 

“Not yet,” Ginger replies, eyes focused on Tequila. “But he’ll speak soon. Meanwhile we found someone else who’s been in contact with one of the victims,” 

The hologram shits and shows a still frame of the outside of a crowded bar, squinting, you lean closer. You note a blond woman, tall and beautiful. But you’re not interested in the victim, rather you’re interested in who’s standing next to her. A familiar looking man. A man with a ballcap, his hand on the small of her back, seemingly guiding her inside. 

“Who’s that?” Tequila asks and you feel your pulse pick up. 

“That’s the last person to have seen her,” Ginger answers. “And his name is–” 

You breathe out. 

“Frankie,” 

Everyone’s curious filled gazes turns to you, and you immediately regret speaking out. Anxiety squeezes around your heart, you feel faint. Pushing back your chair, you stare unblinkingly at the smooth surface of the table. 

“Do you know him, Agent Greyhound?”  

Champ’s question echoes in your ears. You want to say no. You want the earth’s crust to swallow you whole. Frankie can’t be involved– There was no way that he was– 

“We both do actually,” 

You look up, pulse quickening as you and Jack exchange a brief glance. His eyes comfort you but you still read no emotion in them. He’s become a blank slate. 

“That’s good,” Champ clasps his hand together, you jump at the sharp sound. “You two can carry on with the investigation then.” 

You can’t concentrate for the rest of the briefing, you fail to notice that Jack’s gaze never leaves you. 

a/n: to be notified of future works follow @psychedeliclibrary and turn on notifications <33

[slipperyskell]

FNAF SB HCs: Bonnie

- In my mind, Bonnie has always had Sans vibes in that he’s super fucking unbothered by everything, generally a pretty happy-go-lucky guy, but you make him mad??? He gets real scary. FAST. Like the kind of scary where you’d rather take your chances with Monty post-virus 

- Was the only one who actually had his shit together out of the entire band, Freddy included 

- Super chill, literally nothing could bother him even if he tried to be upset about it 

- Really chill with everybody - honestly really hard for him not to get along with him n vice versa 

- Monty v much included!!! I 100000% subscribe to them being buddies before he disappeared honestly 

- Glamrock Bonnie and Bowling Bonnie are - or, i suppose, were intended to be - the same entity. After Glamrock Bonnie disappeared and Monty took his place as the bassist, a ton of people were asking where he went, specially considering that any trace of promotional art featuring Bonnie disappeared after he did. Bonnie Bowl was made, and the idea was that, should they be able to recover Bonnie’s endoskeleton, they’d fix him up, reprogram him, give him a new style to fit the bowling alley’s theme. 

- The problem was that they never found Bonnie’s endoskeleton (spoilers: Vanny’s currently using it for Peepaw, and it’s DEFINITELY beyond repair at this point). So Bonnie Bowl never got its Bonnie. Whether it ever will, no one is certain (or even hopeful at this point). 

- Monty didn’t have any interest in being in the band at the time but he was curious about music n stuff before Bonnie disappeared, and one night they were hanging out together, Monty nervously asked if Bonnie could teach him how to play. Bonnie taught him almost everything he knows today. 

- Like Freddy, he loved hanging out with his friends after hours, either to practice or play games together or just vibe 

- Him and Freddy were definitely a thing - they were never public about it beyond the bandmates, but a lot of the guests suspected it given the longing looks they gave one another while performing 

- They loved going on walks together around the Pizzaplex (and while I believe that Bonnie Bowl wasn’t made until after Glamrock Bonnie’s disappearance, them going on bowling dates sounds cute af too) 

- would probably be a stoner if he were capable of doing so 

- Was always a pretty quiet guy, but got even quieter after he got his claw upgrades and the virus took over 

- Started locking himself in his room a lot when he noticed he was starting to get a bit... snippy at his friends for some reason. 

- He knew something was wrong long before the others even suspected, but whenever he went to management they just brushed it off like it was nothing 

- Eventually, he stopped hanging out with his friends altogether, and opted to instead wander the Pizzaplex by his lonesome, much to their confusion

- Suddenly, there were a lot of nights where Monty waited for him in the Arcade to stop by and play like he usually did, but Bonnie never showed up. He didn’t want to think it, but Monty thought he finally got tired of his shenanigans and decided to look for better company. There were a lot of nights he sulked back to Gator Golf, tail dragging on the ground. 

- Chica’s finding her guitar practice a little lacking without Bonnie’s bass to back it up. But it was fine, maybe he was just taking some time to himself or hanging out with Freddy! No need to worry... 

- Roxy has been a bit more on his ass about his behavior than the others, but she brushed it off as the two of them hitting a rocky part of their friendship, or something. She let it go and just gave him the space that she thought he wanted. 

- And poor Freddy is convinced Bonnie is mad at him for some reason - he tries to come into his room, tries to visit with him after performances, anything. But nothing gets through. The moment he’s done, he’s off stalking around some place, or locking himself in his room without so much as a word. But it’s not like him to be this way - at the very least, he would talk about what’s bothering him, right??

- Soon enough, he did start to open up to them when management wasn’t getting him anywhere, and it only made them more confused 

- They couldn’t understand why no matter how many times he told them - kept saying something about there being something in the Pizzaplex, something evil, and that he needed to find it 

- The others started going to management about this issue as well, convinced that he was having an AI malfunction. They looked into it and noticed this started happening since the claw upgrades were installed

- They start looking through their security reports to see if something went wrong during the installation process that they weren’t notified of 

- And they find that new security guard - Vanessa, they’re pretty sure her name is - down in Parts and Service the night before that installation was supposed to take place 

- They question her, she insists that she has no idea what they’re talking about - and truthfully? She doesn’t 

- But just as they’re about to close in, before they can get Bonnie into Parts and Service to fix it... he disappeared 

- Last seen in Monty Golf, without so much as a trace. No parts, no broken casings, no signs of an altercation

- Just gone. 

- the loss devastated the entire band - Freddy’s blaming himself for not intervening sooner, Chica’s completely distraught at the fact that such an obvious issue went under her radar, Roxanne can’t help but feel like he was onto something and should have listened to him more

- and Monty, poor Monty, he blames himself. It happened in his attraction, while he was charging. Wherever Bonnie ended up, Monty could have stopped him, surely? 

- And then he’s made to take Bonnie’s place as they opt to not remake Bonnie in the end, he’s given those same claws that Vanessa mysteriously recovered but can’t recall where from, and he starts getting that same sort of short-tempered Bonnie was before. 

- And then the accusations roll in, that Monty had scrapped him himself. That he was jealous of his place in the band and wanted it for himself

- And it just breaks his fucking heart - Bonnie was his best friend. He was the only one who would go out of his way to come visit him after hours. They did everything together. And now they’re saying he killed him. 

- The band is completely lost without him - they try not to let it bother them, but that bunny-shaped hole is a hard one to fill.