#i really don’t have much else to say so uh. have a good day (thumbs up)

[ozzyfromthecafeteria]

I. FUCKING. HATE. THE PLANET 4546-B.

THE LEVIATHANS MAKE ME SWIM AND SHOUT GO SURVIVOR BOY GO.

[entitled-fangirl]

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Jasper Hale x human!reader

Summary: The reader sees the scars on Jasper's arms, prompting him to tell her the truth.

Words: 1,646

Warnings: talk of murder, vampire stuff idk, scars, cursing

Author's note: God this is angsty. Someone get 8th-grade me in here right now because this is what she thought she was reading at her age.

Masterlist <3

.......................................................

Jasper sat in the bed placed in his room, his mate resting her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face found its way into her hair. Her hands were placed on top of his on her waist, relishing in the feeling of comfort he gave her.

They were a strange pair, the two. The bloodthirsty vampire fighting his instincts to feed and the helpless human girl who wouldn’t be able to fight him if she tried. 

But she trusted him with her whole heart. It had been hard at first. She had to marinate in the knowledge of the existence of vampires, and he suffered the constant smell of her sweet scent, calling out to him every second.

It was so hard for him, even on a good day. Her smell of her blood always drew him in. 

The only thing holding him back from draining her was the feeling he knew he wouldn’t fight the minute her body became lifeless: dread.

But now, they laid in each other’s arms in complete trust. 

Her hand wandered up his forearm, stopping at the unevenness of his skin. She looked down, pulling his sleeve up briefly.

Bite marks and scratches laid all up and down his forearm. She didn’t want to know how far up his arm it went, thankful for the sleeve.

She felt him shift. He felt uncomfortable. Scared of her reaction. But above all else, he cared for her. She could practically feel his gift poking at her emotions, intertwining them with his. A sense of calmness fell over the two of them before words could form.

Her hand still laid against his arm gently, her thumb brushing one of the bites to comfort him in her own way.

She felt his head move away from hers, leaning back against the bed frame. She used this opportunity to turn in his grip, now facing him. Once there, she pulled his arm into her lap, her eyes inspecting the scars in front of her. 

He simply watched. He couldn’t hide them, and he would never lie. Not to her. So, he simply sat there to let her ask him or draw her own conclusions.

She finally looked up, her eyes locking on his. She’s thankful of his gift, because otherwise, she may have been teary-eyed. “T….Tell me, Jasper?”

His eyes softened. God, she was so good to him. So perfect. So innocent and pure. Everything he knew he wasn’t.

Her blood would be so easy to take. The feeling of adrenaline would be worth the-

“It’s… a long story, Princess. I don’t think you wanna hear it.”

She was visibly hurt by his answer, her hand retreating from his. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry… I just… just thought…”

He chuckles to himself, teasing her, “Thought what, Princess? You really wanna know?”

She nods, her eyes glossy, holding an unreadable expression.

He sighs. He wanted to hold off from telling her this. That was his plan. But now, she had ruined the perfect plan in his head. Not that he could be mad at her. His heart couldn’t do that.

He pulls his sleeve up his other arm, showing her the scarring. “D’you know much about the Civil War, Darlin’?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving his forearm. 

He smiles, “Good girl. Knew you would.” He took a deep breath, not that he needed to, but it allowed him to collect himself and decide what to say. “I was turned during the Civil War. A woman named Maria convinced me to help her train a vampire army. I was foolish and naive. I thought she was doing the right thing.”

He looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at the scars, her head low in thought. He took this as a sign to continue.

“You know.. I was, uh, a major, in the war?”

Her head perked up at that, her eyes meeting his. “A..a major?”

He smirked, “Yeah. Major Jasper Whitlock.” As he said so, she felt a wave of pride come from his body. She didn’t need Jasper’s gifts to sense it, for it had come so plain. 

He continued, “I trained them myself. Her army, I mean. I know you don’t know much about us, but newborn vampires are more dangerous. More deadly. They’re stronger than most.” As he said this, she could feel his tone becoming sharper. 

“Stronger than Emmett?”

He nods, “Yes, Princess. Much stronger. You stay away from a newborn.” It had meant to be advice, but it came out a demand. “They’re more deadly than you can imagine. I’ve watched them do…” his eyes look off in thought, “…unspeakable things…”

A small silence overtakes them before she breaks it. “And you trained them?”

His eyes quickly move back to hers, the amber color glowing, “Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

“Not easily. They don’t take too well, as you can see,” he said, his head motioning forward at his arms. “I punished them, too. Killed them when they got out of hand or weren’t what we needed.”

He feared to look up at her, but he couldn’t resist. Her gaze was on the window. He didn’t often wish for a gift different than his, but at this moment, he wished he could read her mind. See what was going on in that lovely little human brain of hers. But he couldn’t. He sensed she wasn’t distressed. He had to see her eyes to be sure. Not for his gift’s sake, but for his own. His hand outstretched to grab her jaw gently, pulling it towards his own. “Are you scared of me?”

Her eyes catch his, their faces a foot apart. “…Sh…should I be, Jasper?”

He considers her question quickly with a nod, his voice low. “Really fucking scared.”

She blinks at his wording, her brain struggling to comprehend everything in front of her. 

He wanted to joke, take the dark mood away, but he knew this was serious. “I killed before this,” he gestured to himself, “I killed during this…. I’ll probably have to kill sometime after this. I’ve murdered many with no remorse, their bodies laying at my feet. Innocent lives and murders, too. I overpowered the strongest vampires with ease, ending them mercilessly. My heart holds no mercy. So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared of me?”

She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t put it into words. Was she scared? She supposed so. Any sane person would be. But she trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him. “You… You won’t hurt me, Jasper.”

He wanted to laugh at her sweet response. How naive of his little lamb. She said it so sure of herself. Of him. She didn’t know of the constant, deep thirst of blood he fought back every time their eyes met. She didn’t know of the pain he felt when she parted from him. She didn’t know of the horrors he had endured. And most importantly, she would never understand the terrors he had caused.

“You don’t know that, Princess.”

She took a quick breath in at his response. Every reasonable thought she ever had was gone. She should run. She should hide. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her body remained here, on the vampire’s bed, his hand gripping her jaw while staring at her like she was prey. Every reasonable thought was gone.

She reached her hand up to place on top of his on her jaw, flinching at the cold feeling of his skin on hers. “You won’t, Jasper.” She began to even sound confident.

He smiled at her, his sharp teeth peeking out. This girl believes in him that much. What a stupid girl. Too trusting. Too hopeful. Too pretty. Too good. Too perfect. He could absolutely ruin her. But he wouldn’t. “C’mon, Princess. Admit you’re a little afraid.” He needed to hear her say it.

Her hand gripped his, pushing it down her jaw lightly until it rested over her throat. His hand now wrapped around her neck, her hand lightly resting on his. 

He was speechless at her touches. Her movements. Her willingness. Her loyalty to him. His eyes stare at his own hand, admiring the view in front of him. Her hopeful eyes staring into his while his hand rested above her only source of oxygen. It was intimate. It was scary. It was perfect. She was perfect. 

His thumb brushed her throat lightly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his touch. He could practically feel the blood running through her veins. And she trusted him still. 

They sat there in silence for a while, simply admiring the other. 

She was perfect. Too innocent for her own good, but so loyal and willing for him. Her pretty face was the perfect view for him. He could stare at it until the end of his days. And she trusted him with her life. 

She trusted him with the one thing his body thirst to destroy. And he loved her all the more for it.

He was strong. Resilient. An open book for her to read at her leisure. Protective was a word she was familiar with. She felt like his arms were the only thing she needed to live in the world. She trusted him with her life.

His other arm moved up her body, his hand getting lost in the hair on the back of her head. He pushes her forward, capturing her lips in his. 

The hand on her neck stayed. But it never twitched. 

They pulled away from each other to let her catch her breath. Their faces were close as they tried to think of the right words to say.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She wasn’t afraid of him. 

................................................................

[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

[grapenamjams]

König, Soap and Ghost scenarios with a recovering reader

Warnings: Medical environment, mentions of injury and wounds

Part two of: scenarios with a fatally injured reader

A/n: this was way longer than I expected! I’m sorry guys angst is just so good I had to sprinkle some in there but other than that I hope you enjoy!!

…

König

The heart monitor was to Loud in König’s head. It kept him on edge, waiting for any moment for the sound to turn into a single monotone sound that would confirm all of his worst fears.

His legs didn’t stop bouncing even when he placed his elbows on his thighs hanging his head looking down at the white tile floor. Not being able to focus on anything else but the sound of the monitor.

Then he hears your voice Call out to him softly. Voice sounding heavy and tired.

He thought it was his mind playing tricks on him again until he looked up and saw your eyes

His own eyes widened and his heart began to race. “[name]?”

He stands from his chair beside your bed, looking down at you eyes taking you in.

He sees you wince as you adjust yourself on the bed

“Are you in pain? Let me get a doctor”

He pauses his movements when you shake your head and tell him your fine.

not knowing if he should go towards you, he settles on sitting back down again leg beginning to bounce.

Your eyes look around your surroundings eyeing your form on the bed and the padding at your side.

König’s eyes stay on you. “You had to go into surgery” you look at him his head nodding to your hand placement on your side. “Doc said it’ll be a few days until you’re able to leave but you should heal quick”

You node your head letting out a sigh talking in the news.

“Do you remember what happened?” His stomach churns a little as an image of bloody hands flashes in his mind

Your eyebrows furrow slightly trying to recall what happened before you woke up. “Yeah, a little” your eyes land on his. “You stayed with me?”

His eyes flicker. “ of course I did.”

His gaze lowers after a bit, trying to steady his heartbeat. “I thought- I thought That You were going to leave right in-front of me and, you would be gone forever”

He looks back at you his body leaning towards you, eyes looking over your face. Feeling his chest open up for the first time feeling like he could breath again.

His hand reaches out and pushes back a piece of hair from your face. “But, you came back”

Your heart was speeding up and you hoped that the heart monitor wouldn’t signal in a nurse.

You give him a small smile “Where would I go? You are not going to get rid of me that easily”

He takes your hand in his. His being much larger than yours, making him want to be more gentle with you.

“I don’t want to get rid of you. Ever.” He states

He takes in a breath, thumb rubbing against your skin to reassure him that he was present here with you

“I was so scared Liebling. I don’t know what I would have done if you…went away” his gaze sets on yours again.

“You’re Important to me, very. I want you to know that because after seeing you like that… I realized that I would never get to tell you how much you truly mean to me”

You realize you’re squeezing his hand with every word he says.

König pauses trying to see your reaction but his eyes drift away from yours again. Pulling his body away from yours. “I-I get it if you don’t-“

“Come here” you say gently. Tugging at his arm so he moves closer to you. You could see the hint of red at the tip of his ears.

You place a hand on his cheek hearing him suck in a breath. “Your’re really important to me too König” you state using his own words.

“And” your fingers hook on to the band of the black mask that covers his mouth. “You mean a lot to me as well. I was so scared of leaving you, never being able to see you again” you remove his mask.

You smile up at him. “There you are”

You start to close the space between you too before you hear him whisper “mein Liebling”

You pause for a second to ask “What does it mean?”

The man in-front of you flushes up. “It’s, uh. A way to say my darling in germen”

You smile “you’ve been calling me darling this entire time and I didn’t know?”

“Yes?” His face looking more like a unsure puppy making you smile

“Say it again”

König places a hand on your cheek “I love you, Liebling” he whispers against you before his lips meet yours.

Soap

Two weeks. It has been two weeks since John has last heard your voice, your laughter and has had seen that light your eyes have when they look up at him.

You have been in a coma after receiving the medical attention you needed. Not being able to do anything more no matter how much he pleaded.

“The brain is a tricky thing. I’m sorry john” is what the doctor told him before leaving him standing next to your bed.

Two weeks. John has been by your side. Thankful that during that time Price hasn’t called him in.

Before the injury simply being close to you was enough but now.

“You’re in-front of me I can see you and touch you but you’re not here…you’re far away. Come back. Come back to me, please”

The nurses had stopped trying to get him to go back home and rest after the fourth day.

Even when he would fall asleep beside you he didn’t let himself get that far into it. Either dreams of that day where you were bleeding onto his hands or dreams of you both together came to his mind he would wake himself up. Both versions to painful.

Tonight was one of those nights that he ended up falling sleep at the edge of the bed with his bottom half still in the chair.

However when he woke up it wasn’t on his own accord.

He felt a slight pressure around his hand. His eyes opened to see your hand tighten his. Making him sit straight up looking from his hand to your face. Eyes still closed.

John heart felt like it was in his throat he didn’t want to get his hopes up knowing that it could be just a muscle spasm. But still he whispers your name.

“Can you here me lass? Open your eyes come on” His eyes stay on your face looking for any sign of you trying to come back.

“Love?” He lets out a shaky breath when he sees your eyelids flutter open. “Hey, hey I’m here” John holds your hand in his squeezing it gently hoping to ground you. “welcome back, you sure did take a nice long nap didn’t ya?”

Your eyes take in our surroundings and the new sounds. You look down at your body seeing it connected to machines before your gaze fall onto the man beside you.

Your voice comes out hoarse, “johnny? Where?” His eyes well up at the sound of you saying his name.

“at the- at the hospital in a ICU unit. Do you remember what happened?”

You feel a headache coming on when you try to think back on the empty memories. You tell him no, watching him node his head in understanding.

“Doc said this might happen.”he clears his throat. “You had a… injury to your head and you’ve been… in a coma for two weeks”

John rests his hand on your cheek when he sees your alarmed expression. “You’re okay now, your fine. You came back that’s what matters… you’re here.

Not being able to muster the energy to continue thinking on the fact that you had been unconscious for the last two weeks. You slowly close your eyes letting the feelings and thoughts wash over you wanting to delve into them another day.

For now you looked at john’s blue eyes finding that summer clear sky they reminded you so much of.

“I thought I would never see them again” john’s voice fills the air between you two. A soft contrast to the silence of the room except for the machines.

“See what?” You ask

“ those eyes” he answers. gaze never leaving yours, committing everything to memory.

He shakes his head, hand securing yours again.

“I was so scared. Terrified that I had let you go. That day, of the incident I let you slip away from me while I held you. Then when you were asleep and breathing in front of me. I was driving myself mad not being able to do anything to bring you back.”

He takes in a shaky breath, voice breaking. “if you didn’t open your eyes again I- “

“John.“ your soft voice cuts through the raging noise in his mind.

“I’m here.” Your hand manages to lift up to his cheek. Running your fingers through his new grown out beard not missing the deep eye bags making your heart constrict.

“None of this is your fault. You didn’t let me slip away.” You pull him closer “you brought me back”

John presses his forehead against yours “I Love you, you know that? I love you so damn much [name]. You’re everything to me”

His lips finally connect with yours and it was a moment of sweet longing intimacy. words and feelings left unsaid were acknowledged between you both.

After pulling away, he stayed looking into your eyes for a second a small smile on his lips before his mind catches up to him. “It’s late, you should get some rest, yeah?”

You smile “I’ve been asleep for two weeks. You,however look like you only gotten two hours within that time”

You Motion for him to lay beside you on the bed. “Are you sure it’s alright?” You tug him gently towards you earning a chuckle from him “barley back and already trying to get me into bed, women?”

Hesitant at first, but he manages to fit his large frame in the bed beside you resting his head by the crook of your neck.

“Rest Johnny, Im not going anywhere” finally he was able to find that peaceful rest he is familiar with when he is able to fall asleep with you in his arms.

Ghost

Ghost kept himself busy with anything, it didn’t matter to him.

If he was busy then it meant his brain was also busy which didn’t allow him to think of anything else.

How many days has it been since he found you on the floor while you were internally bleeding?

3 days? A week? A whole year he didn’t know as he tried to convince himself he didn’t care of the amount of days because you were finally being taken care of. There was nothing more he could do.

Is what he would tell himself when his not occupied mind would drift to thoughts of you.

You have been in the ICU for almost a week. No visitors were allowed because of your delicate state.

Simon didn’t want to let himself think of your body on that bed all alone in a solitary room.

Knowing full well the feelings and thoughts that are felt with his own experiences of close calls.

So he kept busy.

Price would be the one to give the team updates of your condition as he listened from the back. Trying to ignore his want to barge in and see you for himself and confirm the captains words.

Maybe it was also In hopes to stop the ache he felt in his chest as each hour and day passed.

“You can see her now” we’re words he thought he would never get to hear from Price.

He also didn’t think his body could get to you quick enough. needing to see you if only a glimpse

“Well you sure do look better than the last time I saw you” are the words he choose as greeting

Making you look over at him with surprise. Although your skin reflected how tired and drained you were, your eyes had their light back contrasting that chilling image he was faced with when he found you.

But now in-front of him you were breathing, looking at him,you were alive.

You shift on the bed so that your back is against the uplifted part of the bed naturally the motion making you wince

“How are they treating ya” He asks making his way towards you helping you sit up without second guessing it.

“Lets just say that the painkillers are doing their job” you sigh out resting your head back to look up at the familiar skull mask

He nodes in understanding “I take it that someone has givin you the run down of what happened?” Voice always so stern and distant

You’re gaze leave his for a moment as the images flash in your mind. Specifically the moment where you tried to focus beyond the mask to his pained and frantic eyes, never seeing that emotion on his face before. Fear.

“Y-yeah, they did. Say I’ll be out in another week or so”

Your voice sounded tired, your body although seeming better still looked so fragile making ghost curse himself again for not being able to protect you like he should have, if he was more vigilant, hadn’t second guessed himself, if he was more-

“How are you doing?” He hears you say and can’t help his eyes widen

How could you ask how he was when you are the one who was lying in a ICU bed being pumped with pain killers because of something he could have prevented.

“I’m fine” his deep voice sounds out in the room “worry about yourself sweetheart” he shifts his weight as he crosses his arms

“The truth Simon, please”

Was it because you said his name so softly that it made his chest tighten or maybe because when it came to you he couldn’t deny you anything? Wanting to give you the world if he could. The only person who was able to see him even through the mask.

He whispers out a curse. “I’ve seen a lot of people and comrades die in-front of me, in this line of work it’s inevitable. I’m used to it, almost expect it. But you-“

He stands closer to your bed. “Seeing you like that it…it terrified me. I didn’t want you to be gone,to be someone else I lost.” He places his hands on the bed handle.

“I just… I just couldn’t accept the fact that, A person that changed my life, that is the single most important person in my life Could just…leave to a place I wouldn’t be able to go”

Simon starts a bit when you hold his gloved hand, peeling back the Velcro to uncover it. “I was terrified too” you start, pulling off his glove. “Not just of dying but of the thought of leaving you. I want to be were you are, always.”

Simons heart is hammering in his head from your words and you touch. “it’s my fault, if-“

You shake your head “none of that, understand?”

You bring his hand to your lips “you saved me,Simon”

His hand cups your cheek “the other way sweetheart, you saved me”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

here’s the plan

pairing: boyfriend hyunjin x f. reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of periods

request: “I don’t know if there is any rules for requesting. But can I get a Hyunjin x reader, where the reader starts her period in a public place and he’s really understanding and sweet about it. (Actually happened to me ☠️) it can be a short drabble. It’s ok if you don’t wanna. Thanks babes!”

masterlist

You hadn’t been dating hyunjin very long. And today was the first day you were meeting all of his friends. It was awkward enough meeting new people, but this was seven other men. Just you and your boyfriend and seven other men. You were stressed. You and hyunjin arrived at the restaurant before everyone else. You got your table and started looking at the menus.

“What do you think you will get, my sweet? Does anything sound good?” He was looking down at his menu as he asked, but you had forgotten the menu entirely. You dropped it as a sharp pain clenched your lower abdomen. You brought your hands to your stomach. Ouch. The sound of the menu smacking the table caused his attention to shift to you. He took in the pained look on your face, your arms wrapped around yourself. “What’s the matter?” He asked, setting his own menu down.

“It’s nothing, Jinnie.” You told him. Was this pain because you were nervous about meeting his friends? You couldn’t recall a time where you were so nervous that it was physically painful, but there’s a first time for everything. You picked up the menu again and began looking. Just then a man approached the table. Hyunjin looked up.

“Chan hyung!” He said, excitedly.

You looked up to see a man smiling down at both of you, dimples in his cheeks. He sat down across from you.

“Hyung this is y/n.” He gestured toward you. “Y/n this is Chan.”

“Hello.” You said, giving him a gentle wave. You grabbed one of the extra menus that were between you and hyunjin and leaned across the table to hand it to Chan. But, when you leaned you felt something. Oh no. Not now. Please not now. Was it time for your period already? In the excitement and stress of meeting his friends you must have forgotten about your cycle. You tried to remain calm and do the math in your head. Shifting back to your original sitting position, you felt it again. You were starting to panic.

“Jinnie, I’m going to go find the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You said, kind of frantic.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, quietly. He didn’t want to alert Chan if something really was wrong.

“No, no I’m fine. I’ll be right back.” You rose from the table and headed to the back of the restaurant, down a hallway, toward a sign that said ‘bathrooms’. You rushed into the women’s, just a one seater, and locked the door behind you. At least there wouldn’t be anyone else in the bathroom to witness your panic. You pulled your pants down to reveal… a red stain. And a pretty large one at that. It went through your underwear and stained your pants. What were you going to do? You didn’t have any supplies with you, there was no tampon dispenser on the wall (do they even have those anymore?) not that you had any change to buy one even if there was a dispenser. You started pacing. You couldn’t go back out there and meet all of his friends with a big red stain on your ass. Tears were starting to spring to your eyes.

Knock knock

“Uh, someone’s in here! Just a sec!” You called.

“Baby, it’s me.” You heard hyunjin say, quietly from outside. “Is everything okay?”

You were about to cry. Everything was definitely not okay.

You cracked the door open to find his worried face staring down at you. You looked up at him, glassy eyes brimming with tears that have yet to overflow.

“Baby what’s wrong?” He said, grabbing your face. “Is this too much? Meeting the guys? We can wait.” His thumb rubbed back and forth across your cheek.

“No, Jin it’s not that.” You swallowed, a little nervous. This relationship was still so new. Was he going to be disgusted?

“What is it, honey? Tell me.” He looked so sweet, so caring and genuinely worried about you.

“I started my period.” You blurted out. “I started and I don’t have any tampons or anything with me. And there’s a huge stain on the back of my pants and all your friends are waiting out there, and I’m kind of freaking out.” You were rambling.

He looked over his shoulder both ways to make sure no one was looking before saying “scooch over, let me in.” He gently nudged his way past you, into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“What are you-?” You began.

“Turn around, let me see.”

Embarrassed, you turned your back to him.

“Oh, baby it’s not that bad.” You turned back to face him, and he was removing his hoodie. What was happening right now? “Here. Put this on.”

You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you did as he said. His hoodie was large, it swallowed your body, falling well over your ass and landing mid thigh. You were starting to understand. The sleeves were long, but you liked the sweater paws. That made you happy. You looked down at your hands, swallowed by the material. You noticed a small tag on the end of the right sleeve. Versace.

“Hyunjin, this is a Versace sweater.” You said, baffled.

“Yeah, okay?” He replied.

You began to take the sweater back off. “Im not about to bleed all over your thousand dollar sweater.” You told him. He tugged at the hem, stopping you, and putting the sweater back right.

“I promise, you’re more important than this sweater.” Your heart melted at his words. “Now, here’s the plan.”

•

Exiting the bathroom, surrounded by his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, you tried your best to look nauseous. Which wasn’t all that hard. You really didn’t feel good. You both slowly approached the table which was now surrounded by people, chatting (not so quietly) to each other.

“Guys, y/n isn’t feeling very well.” Hyunjin said, squeezing your shoulders. “I think we’re going to have to reschedule this date.”

“Oh no,” one of them said, pushing his blond hair out of his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Felix. She’s just a little sick to her stomach. I should really get her home.”

“So sorry, guys. I was really looking forward to hanging out.” You told them.

“That’s okay. Feel better and we’ll try again later.” Said another, this one with really big muscles.

You gave him a small smile and hyunjin started to usher you toward the door.

“Take good care of her.” Chan said to hyunjin just as he pushed you out the door.

Once outside he pulled you in close and kissed the top of your head. “Movie at my place instead? There’s a pharmacy on the corner. We’ll stop in there for your supplies and some snacks.”

You looked up at him. He was smiling down at you, still squeezing you gently. You were staring to think this relationship was really going to work out.

an: thanks for sending in requests! i’m working on some fake text ones rn. 💕 this is an old request from my dead blog hyunjins-orange-slice. currently on mine, so i thought it was a good time to post this. 😅

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

professor steve or boss steve?

👀

I don't know what this is but I chose professor Steve

One is the Loneliest Number

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you bluster in through the door, “I got caught–”

You stop short. The room is empty. You check your watch, the small golden piece your mother got you before you left for college, and peer around once more. There is only one other body in the immense room. Your professor, Dr. Rogers.

“Oh, hi, I…” you sputter, “it’s not the wrong day, is it?”

The question strikes you as stupid the moment it hangs before you. No, he wouldn’t be here if it was the wrong day.

“Did I get the wrong time?”

He sits up, setting down the book on the desk before him. He looks unimpressed as he leaves on the hardcover of his copy of Wuthering Heights. Your own is a curling paper back with wrinkles along the spine. You bite your lip and teeter on your toes, turning your toes together.

He watches you, sliding the book loudly across the wood, “you are the only one. Seems like this wasn’t such a good idea.”

You frown and look above his head, at the face of the clock ticking on the wall. It’s almost twenty minutes past the hour. You feel worse for him now than you did running in late.

“I’m sorry, professor, I…” you look around awkwardly, “I was so excited but maybe someone else will show up. I don’t mind waiting.”

He seems less than heartened by your words. He sighs and looks down at the book, running his fingers across the embossed cover. You go to the middle row and lift your bag onto the desk, fishing around for your copy.

“Maybe we can get started without them,” you volunteer, searching for anything to kill the unease, “I really enjoyed the book, Prof–”

“Don’t bother. Go back and have fun with your friends,” he waves you off as he turns back up the aisle, “I won’t keep you. Obviously, you coeds have a lot more going on than some ancient tome.”

“Oh, uh,” you blink at his back, his broad shoulders stretching the tweed of his blazer. He talks as if he’s terribly old but he hardly shows it. There’s a few strands of silver in his hair but you can hardly tell as they blend into the golden highlights, “so, what do you think? Did Bronte mean to reprimand her protagonists or romanticise them? I thought the narrative was kinda condemning, don’t you think?”

He stops and pushes his head back. A long breath as he turns on his heel.

“Really? Most would say it’s overly praising, that it glorfiies Catherine and Heathcliff’s love,” he intones, “at least, most girls your age say so.”

“Well, I uh… found it almost annoying that Heathcliff refuses to change,” you explain as you sit down, “truly, but with Hareton, Catherine can grow…”

“Hmm,” he hums and walks along the next row, turning a chair around to sit, “tell me more.”

You rub your dry lips together before you find another thought. You don’t want to admit that you were scrolling on Reddit and a lot of your ideas were borrowed from the arguments there. Still, you came all the way here and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. 

You go on about the mirroring of Heathcliffe and Catherine, how their similarities are almost detrimental, as if they are part of each other rather than lovers. He nods thoughtfully as you speak.

“I don’t know, I think I need to do a second read,” you shrug as you eyes meet his. The intent blue irises nearly make you wither.

“I think you got it,” he allows his mouth to curve just a little, “thank you for humouring me.”

“No, professor, I–”

“I’m not stupid, the letters beside my name would at least suggest that,” he leans back in the chair and frames his book with his thumbs and index fingers. 

You admire the cover, leather inlaid with the image of the literary amours, “yours is much prettier than mine.” You close the curling cover and try to hold it smooth, the blocked font offering little more than simplicity. “I got it from the second-hand pile at the student shop.”

“It has character,” he says as he reaches over, his thumb brushing yours as he slides it from beneath your grasp. He flips through the pages, the soft breeze of the flutter causing a short blond strand to droop down his forehead, “a special sort of beauty.”

He peeks up at you. You don’t know what to say. What he’s waiting for. You smile as his gaze follows your nervous fingers as they tap against your throat. You still the anxious gesture and look at the clock.

“Like you,” he breathes. 

Your eyes drop back to him and you shake your head, “pardon?”

“Hm,” he tilts his head, “I didn’t…” he cranes to look at the clock, “well, I won’t keep you any longer. I guess you should–”

“Have you been to Marge’s? The new cafe down by the arena?” You blurt out. Your habit of rambling when you're addled never fails to corner you, “I was going to go there after and have some tea. Maybe…” you touch your cheek, suddenly embarrassed. “Oh, shoot, I guess that’s too forward. I’m sorry, I’m not… I’ll go.”

You reach for the book but he keeps it in his grasp. Your eyes meet his as he watches you, “I like tea,” he offers, “if you don’t mind the company.”

[idontplaytrack]

Whole Lot in Love

Capri Donahue x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Oral, fingering, pet names(reader receiving). Coarse language, fluff

Part 2 for ‘Kiss It Better’

Things between you and Capri weren’t awkward. Until you two were in school, that’s where the silence was so loud, it was almost tangible.

No one knew what happened between you and her at the pool party, no one knew about the kiss. Well, the kisses. Technically. The sweet little peck to your thumb, and the needy, yearned for, first kiss. You knew the girl had a reputation to uphold, as did you. So your anxiety began to set in when she talked to you, and stood right next to you. You were terrified of being seen and talked about by others.

It was the last week of school before summer. You just had to make it through these five days then you didn’t have to worry about it anymore. “Hi, you.” Capri says while walking up to you. She readily leans in to kiss your cheek but you dodged it— right. This — the PDA ‘rules’ hadn’t been discussed yet.

“What’s the matter?” The girl asks with a chuckle, face almost confused by your reaction.

You told her, “We haven’t exactly discussed anything.”

She got what you meant and kept a bit of a space between you and herself, "Right, right. We'll talk that out after school? Today?"

"Sure." You agreed.

"Where's your last class?"

"Gym." You told her, eyes narrowed and watching the students walking by.

"I'll wait for you outside." Capri says, "See you later, y/n."

"Bye." You responded, an awkward chuckle escapes your mouth as you turned to go in the direction opposite hers. Capri nearly cackled at your reaction but bit the laugh back.

The rest of you day at school went by without a hitch, but she did keep looking at you whenever she got the chance to. You could feel her eyes on you, practically burning holes into the back of your head.

Did you want to look back at her? Yes.

Were you afraid to because of what other students would say? God yes.

You were never used to any attention from anyone, you always just slid under the radar at school and floated by, much like Darby.

Quickly changing out of your gym attire, you got out of the locker room as a trio of popular girls in your gym class entered. You’d just spared yourself some snickering and finger-pointing. Looking both ways when you stepped out of the gymnasium, you spot Capri leaning against the wall on your left. She looked up, saw you and skipped over. “Hey!” Capri beamed.

“Hi.” You gave her a small smile, “Uh, are you parents home?”

“Not right now but they’ll be by dinner time.” Capri replied, “Yours?”

“They’re on business trips for another week.”

“Ooh.” She chuckles, “Okay, we’ll talk at your place. You don’t drive, do you?”

“It’s a twenty minute walk.” You shrug.

“Well, my car’s parked here and I don’t want to leave it here in the parking lot.” She continues, “C’mon, let’s take my car.” You followed Capri to her car, and got in the front with her.

“You wanna pick up anything from the store on the way back?”

“No, I’m good.” You said while buckling your seatbelt.

“Okay, then.”

The brief drive was filled with light-hearted conversation. She asked you a bunch of questions to get to know you and you just answered them without a second thought. In the privacy of her car, where no one else could see. You were free as a bird, no worries, no nothing.

“Nice place.” She commented as you two walked into the place.

“It’s really not.” You laughed.

“Oh, come on. It is.”

“It’s…small.” You added on.

“Not really.” She retorted.

“Fine, it’s not. Your mansion is huge.”

She smirked, “Touché, y/n. It feels so empty a lot of the times.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower.”

She gasped, “Wait, what do you want me to do?”

“I dunno. Make yourself at home? Watch TV, raid the pantry. I’m all gross from gym class. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She asked teasingly, stepping closer to you. Her arm was smoothly winded around your waist, face to face with you.

You looked at her, brows raised, bewildered. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Maybe I don’t.” She continues.

“Let me take a shower first, alright?” You avert your eyes, requesting.

“M’kay.” She hummed, her palm rubbing small circles on your lower back as she broke away from the embrace. That gesture ignited a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and the blush on your cheeks to deepen. Clearing your throat, you scampered upstairs before she could poke fun at you for it.

You didn’t take long, not wanting to keep her waiting. “Hey.” She turned to look at you from her seat on the couch. You silently walked up to her and sat down next to her. “Okay, let’s…talk.”

“So…” You sigh, “What are we?”

“What do you mean?” She asks, absolutely confused.

“What…are we? We kissed, so…are we dating? Or was that, just—”

“I told you, I like you, y/n.” Capri says softly.

“So?” You asked back. “That doesn’t mean that we’re—”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to kiss you on the cheek at school?” She questioned, her gaze gentle, as was her tone.

“I just— I like you too, but the thought of me being openly affectionate with— I’m sorry, I’m not out yet and I— I’m scared.” You revealed to her, finally.

“That’s okay. I got you. We don’t have to do anything while we’re out in public.” Capri held onto your hand as she spoke, “And to answer your question, yes. We’re dating. But we’ll keep things…lowkey. Hm?”

You sniffled, eyes still not completely meeting hers. Nodding your head, you mumble, “Okay.”

Before you could realise, she’d wrapped her arm around you again, pulling you closer to her. Reflexively, your head was on her shoulder. You didn’t fight it, knowing you were…safe in this space. No comments, no judgement.

————

“What’re you doing?” You ask, looking up at her.

“Nothing.” She smirked, chuckling as she continues to caress your lower back.

“Right.” You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully.

“What do you want me to be doing?” She asks suggestively, palm now gliding lower and lower. Approaching your ass. You let out a harsh exhale as her hand cups the muscle, you flinch, glaring at her. You were almost too quickly losing focus on whatever the hell was playing on TV.

Soon, you relaxed again, letting her leave those lingering touches all over you. You wanted her to, but you didn’t exactly want to say it just yet. Just to be a little playful with her. Capri definitely didn’t mind it. “Capri.”

“Yeah.” She hand stops moving for a second.

“Prove it to me.” You muttered.

“Oh, no problem.” She practically purred, sending a rush of heat down south.

“Show me you mean it, show me that you like me like you say you do.” You weren’t sure where this confidence came from, but it was definitely the way to rile her up.

“Baby girl, you know I love a challenge.” Capri smirked, flipping you over onto the couch.

“Do you?” You asked cheekily as she straddled you, face inches away from yours.

“You wanna do this here?” She snaps out of the mood for a moment.

“What?” You squint at her.

“You wanna go to your room?” She asks, pressing a rough kiss to your lips.

You nodded eagerly, unable to hide your excitement. “Okay, get up.” She climbs off you, you got up. Capri picks you up and carried you up the stairs, impatiently.

“Second door on the right.” You said into the kiss.

She lowers you onto your mattress, lips never leaving yours as her knees were on either side of you. The intensity of the kisses varied and left you aching and wanting more. “Done this before?”

“No.” You admitted, swallowing thickly.

“We’ll take it slow.” She assured.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flushing with her eyes fixated on you, “Okay.”

Capri grins, cupping your cheek as she leaned down to capture your lips again.

“You smell so good.” She says while kissing her way down your neck. You whined quietly when her lips were no longer felt on your mouth. You laughed at the comment and squirmed, but she kept going, wanting to hear that sweet, sweet noise again.

“You can tell me to stop anytime, you hear me?” Her lips broke away, Capri looked at you directly, “Anytime. No questions asked.”

“Yeah.” You nod, “Yeah— I hear you.”

“Good.” She smiled, brushing the hair out of your eyes as she lowered herself again.

When her lips started to attack a certain spot of your neck, you bit your lip to muffle the noise that was trying to force its way out of your mouth. Capri noticed it instantly. “Hey.” She hums, “It’s okay. Don’t hold back.”

Well, fuck. That gentleness in her tone only made you more flustered and needy. Why is she like that with you? And only you? Whatever, you were enjoying it. You loved it. Being the only one to see this side of her.

Obviously, she was taking the lead since this was your first time. She was gentle— not just her words, but also her actions. How she was kissing you, how her hands were roaming your body to explore it and what made you tick. Slow, and soft but passionate and eager.

It made your mind fuzzy, your eyes begin to watch her as she worked you over. She grins when she realises, letting out a chuckle and she squeezed your thighs. “You good?”

“Mhm.” Came a strained reply from you, “So good.”

“Aw.” She continues to grope your thighs, “So glad.”

That ignited something in your core— this little bit of her usual cheeky facade…

You licked your lips and gnawed on it again when her hand headed down your front. Her eyes, they flicked up to look at yours to ask you for permission silently. You gave her the green-light to proceed, and very slowly, you feel her middle finger gliding up and down your slit to gather your arousal before it enters you. Capri watches your face as she does so, making sure she wasn’t hurting you.

“Okay?”

Her question was answered by a whimper from you, making her smile smugly. She picks up her pace, hooking up her finger to press onto your sensitive spot inside. Your mouth hung open, a soft gasp escapes. Capri couldn’t take her eyes off you, she was infatuated. She could watch you all day while she fucked and edged you. Her other arm was smoothly hooked under your thigh as her finger pumped in and out of you steadily. More arousal leaked out of you, making her lose the friction and you both to start hearing a rather obscene noise come from the juncture between your legs.

Your head was spinning and Capri started to pick up her pace while you felt a second finger lazily moving between your folds, as though trying to tease you. “You want more, baby?” Capri asks, voice low-pitched and faint.

You took in a quick breath while you nodded feverently without saying a word, this was what you were reduced to. Nothing coherent was forming in your mind, your mind was miles away now as your eyes focused on the girl between your thighs and your body focused on chasing your release.

A second finger slides inside you without resistance, and again, she observed your face. Noting that you were fine, she begins to move them in and out of you, pace quickened once more.

Feeling her two digits poke your g-spot for the first time, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Then, Capri was rewarded with a breathy moan from you. From then on, your noises matched up with her ministrations. The more vocal you were, the more eagerly she was fucking you. Eventually, something made you scream. Capri had pressed her thumb onto your clit and started to rub it. And at this moment, every single word that ran through your head were profanities. So you hesitated opening your mouth, expecting them to be flying out of there if you did. Aaand you weren’t usually one with much of a potty mouth.

“I want to hear you.” She demanded, but her smile was almost sickeningly sweet.

“Okay.” You agreed.

“Hey.” Her free hand caresses your inner thigh, you look at her.

“Do you want me to try something else?” She inquired, fingers inside you never stopping.

“Try what?”

“Using my mouth.” She answered the very next moment.

“Wh— oh.” You looked at her, straight in the eye. She was serious. “Okay.” You chuckled, “Yeah, alright.”

Her tongue darted out and you saw her literally dive right in. Her tongue flicks persistently at your swelling clit while her mouth was closed around the hood of it.

“Oh— fuck!” You cried out, “Fuck…”

She hums in approval, “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Mm— yeah, yeah. Yes, oh my God.” Your breaths were beginning to come out in short pants. Her arm hooked around your thigh pulls you closer right as your back arches. Your hands grasp the sheets beneath yourself as you felt the pleasure building up and up to a breaking point.

It was…peculiar. You didn’t know what to expect.

“Oh, shit.” You gasped, “More— more. I want more.”

Her fingers joined in on the action post-haste, causing profanities and her name to fall from your lips unendingly. The girl was basking in it, and your pleasure. Fuck, was she good at this.

“Are you close?” She asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I— Capri, I don’t know what the hell to expect, I—”

“Probably kinda feels like you have to pee.” Capri says, mouth barely detached from you. The heat and her breath fanning against your cunt makes you flinch and then you were throbbing. So goddamn intensely.

“What?” You muttered. But you didn’t have much time to think when you began to feel exactly what she described.

“Fuck— shit, don’t stop— don’t stop, don’t stop— oh, my God, Capri—” You babbled, back arching and pushing yourself closer to her than ever. Capri slows down gradually but doesn’t stop just yet, allowing you to ride out each and every wave of your high.

“Oh, good girl.” Capri laughs softly, caressing your inner thighs as you start to calm down and find your breath again.

That made your heart flutter, you were giddy happy. Still a little breathless, but you felt great.

“How was that?” She asks, glancing at you.

You let out an exhale in amusement, “I’m…surprised.”

She bites her lip, chuckling again, “Really? Why?” Capri grabs a tissue from your nightstand to clean off her mouth and chin before laying down next to you.

“It was my first time, so…” You looked at her, she was laid down next to you, hand resting on your torso, fingers absentmindedly tracing squiggles on your skin, “That, and um, you were actually way gentler than I though you would be.”

“What?” She gasped, feigning offence.

You giggled, laying on your back.

Capri sighs softly, tilting your face so you were looking at her again. You returned to laying on your side. Her hand goes up your cheek, her thumb stroking against the skin softly, “I love you.”

“Do you, now?” You teased with a chuckle.

She pushes with a finger on your chest playfully, “Yes, I do, silly.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[airam1quhs]

🏵️Working Things Through🏵️ | K.C.

(requested by @kay-random [request: Kurt and reader are together but reader gets insecure cuz of uh courtney soo yeah he comforts her saying he wouldn’t leave her or any way u want :)]

Warnings/Notes: Courtney is not the antagonist! Other than that, just hurt-comfort :) Enjoy!

“Who, Kurt? Oh yeah, he’s great!”

“So you guys are in contact?”

“In theory yeah, for sure. Of course I haven’t talked to him as much since he married that girl. But he’s a person I connected very well with. I was really kind of shocked when we stopped contacting each other!”

“You should give him a call sometime!”

“Yeah, I agree. Hey Kurt!” Courtney Love looked directly at the camera with a grin that conveyed many things. “We should start talking again sometime!” Courtney winked. Winked.

She picked up the flipper and turned the tv off, flopping back on the couch with a frown. She heard the playing from the other room fade to silence, a clunk which was no doubt him setting the guitar down, and then footsteps growing louder.

“Hey, love, I just finished writing in there.” Kurt came out into the living room and stood in the entrance. He was in his pjs, looking as pretty as always with blond hair a mess around his head, and stubble dotting at his jaw. And of course the new ring on his left hand.

“The tv’s off? Didn’t you wanna watch mtv?” He approached the coffee table, picking up the flipper and turning to look at her. “Can I turn it on, then?”

She nodded wordlessly, watching as he hit the red ‘on’ button and the tv lit up, flipping over to to MTV. To her exasperation Courtney Love’s face reappeared on screen.

“Ah, Courtney!” Kurt said lightly. “She’s always got something interesting to say.”

He plopped down next to her, covering his hand with her own and fully watching.

Ugh stop, that wink was for comedic effect. You’re overthinking again.

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

***

“Hey, Kurt, uhm-“ She faltered slightly, “There’s a message here from Courtney.”

Kurt came trotting out in his socks, looking interested. “How did she even get our new number?”

“I don’t know. Somebody working with you probably gave it to her.”

“What’s it say?” He walked closer towards the phone, putting a warm hand on her shoulder.

She played the message:

“Hey Kurt! At least I hope it’s Kurt. If not, sorry to bother you, girl, could you pass it over to Kurt? Yeah, okay. Kurt it’s been a while. You should come out and play with us! Come to my place on the 21st? You know my address. I’ll have everything ready, just bring your guitar. Really looking forward to seeing you again!”

Kurt listened quietly, nodding. “Yeah, I do think we should play together. I really admire her art, honestly. I think we could make something nice together,” He seemed to trail off, thinking about it.

“If I’m at my best.”

“How do you know her address?” She asked him with a furrow of her brow.

“Oh, I’ve been to her house with a mutual friend a while ago. ’91, I think?”

“Okay.” She said plainly, not knowing what else to add even while she felt like she should say something.

“So… you’re, gonna go?”

“Yeah. I think it could be productive. I don’t think I have any plans that day, yeah?”

“Yeah, probably not…”

“Okay, then it’s set!” He smiled at her, placing a quick kiss on her lips before heading back to their room. She watched his back as it disappeared across the corner, cringing at her own internal monologue. She shook her head, before turning back to the phone.

***

He still wasn’t home. Why was he still out? Hadn’t it been long enough for them to create something? Would he voluntarily stay there for so long if they could be done?

Why are you thinking so much? You know he would never hurt you like that. This is stupid. He’s been nothing but good to you and these thoughts are how you repay him?

She twiddled her thumbs in her lap, shifting in her seat on the faded couch restlessly. The shaking of her knees against the coffee table caused the drink in her mug to spill, and she groaned, voice cracking with disuse as she hadn’t spoken since Kurt had left. Which was nine hours ago.

The liquid had spilled all over the table and was dripping onto the ground. She launched herself up to grab tissues but just knocked the mug to the floor in the process. She sucked in a deep breath and struggled not to cry. Don’t. Hyperventilate. Don’t.

She heard the door unlatch and steeled herself. She needed to calm down. These emotions were baseless and even more useless. Yeah, that’s right. This doesn’t need to be thought about anymore.

Kurt stepped into the house, kicking off his shoes and smiling very slightly as he placed them on the rack to his left.

“I’m home.” He called from the entrance, walking forward towards her.

“It’s ten. You said you’d be back for dinner.”

“Oh, shit, I did, didn’t I,” He grimaced, apologetic. “I’m sorry, love. We were in… a bit of a fervor.”

She let out a short laugh and spoke under her breath “Yeah. A creativity fervor.”

She spared a look up at him from wiping down the table, spotting his minute frown. That was the way it was with him. He was supposed to pick up on her feelings. Which she supposed was part of the reason why she felt so hurt.

With a clearly audible sigh she stood up, tossing her tissue in the garbage can, before moving to the door where Kurt had been not long ago, brushing past him in the process as she reached up to grab her coat off the clothing rack.

Kurt walked over, footsteps more hesitant now. “Hey, love… what’s wrong?”

“No it’s fine. I’m just going to go for a walk. Maybe get a cup of coffee.” She pulled on her coat, voice slightly muffled by the fabric pulling over her.

He perked up slightly, reaching for his own coat which he had just hung up next to her, “I’ll come with you.”

“No Kurt. You must be really tired. Go sleep.”

Her reaction seemed to trigger something in him. His movements halted, and he slowly retracted his arm, instead laying it on hers.

He spoke lightly, looking directly at her and turning her to face him with a worried look.

 “Darling? What is it? You seem to be holding things in. You know you can tell me and I won’t judge, yeah? I hope I haven’t, well, given you an impression that says otherwise.”

At first she pressed her lips together, looking at him. Okay. You need to speak now or it’ll get awkward.

“I-” Her voice cracked and she cringed. What had happened to her self-confidence? Her belief in her own abilities?

She let out a shaky breath, looking down and focusing on the floorboards as tears welled up in her eyes. Don’t hyperventilate.

“Hey, love, look at me.” He placed his hands tentatively on her cheeks, as if asking permission, before tilting her face upwards so she was once again looking at him.

He faltered slightly, likely noticing the glistening of her eyes, before his face softened even more, if possible.

She couldn’t help it. Her sight was blurring together and her breathing was watery. She tried to blink but it just allowed the tears to find a path out of her heavy eyelids, one on either side flowing down her cheeks. It was like a dam broke and suddenly she was shaking all over. Sobbing now.

She couldn’t see him through her closed eyes, but she felt his hands move from her face to wrap around her back, the soft fabric of his sweater against her hands and his hair tickling at her face as he pulled her in.

“C’mon. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know…” she took a deep breath to try to get her words out, “I know it’s stupid and baseless but-”

“Listen.” She felt his voice gain a newfound serious tone, the vibrations moving through her chest. “I will never think your emotions are stupid or invalid. You can talk to me no matter what. I care about you. Don’t bottle them in, love, or they’ll burst out and harm you when you don’t want them to. I know about that.” He paused, voice regaining its quiet, “Now, uhm- you can keep going.”

“I just… I guess I just felt jealous. You were- complimenting her, and her art, and I-I guess she’s just the type of person who likes to stir things up, and even though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean any real harm, I- I just didn’t really feel safe? I felt kind of threatened by her. And I know you- you’d never but-” She groaned. “I feel so bad. For having so little trust in you!”

“No, no, I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on this sooner.”

“I still feel guilty. That’s why I never… told you about it. I knew you were just there to play music. And I wanted you to go because I knew you’d enjoy it. So much. And I want you to do the things you love.”

“And thank you so much for that.”

“It’s just, when it got late and hours after the time you said you’d be home, I guess I let my mind wander. And… that’s almost never a good thing.”

“Make no mistake, love, I… take full responsibility for this-”

“Don’t say that-”

“But I also want you to know, that I would never purposefully hurt you, okay? Today, her entire band was there. All we did was write. And also... you're perfect just the way you are. Yes, I like Courtney's art, but there's so much more that I love about you.”

She just nodded, slowly but surely calming down, breathing deeper and regularly.

“Talk to me about anything you want, whenever you want. I love you.”

She sniffled slightly, “I love you too, Kurt.”

She felt him let out a breath, and his stubble tickled at her head.

“Let’s go, uh, lay in bed together?”

Finally, the corners of her lips twitched upwards, “Let’s go.”

[hannahssimblr]

“Evan, can I sit?”

He glances up at me and shrugs, patting the ground next to him so I slump down heavily on it and take a healthy gulp from my bottle. 

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, amazing.”

“I, uh, I see you were chatting to Leah, there? You know each other?”

“Nah.”

“Really? Well... she’s a weirdo anyway, you’re better off getting away from her, like, I just sell her weed and stuff, I don’t really like when she hangs around too long.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” 

“Was she being weird with you?” 

“Nope.” 

We’re silent as we watch the flames. I begin to wonder what time it is, and whether I've stayed long enough now for it to be acceptable to go home. As I watch all of the other friends around the fire have fun together I’m struck by how much of an outsider I really am. Sure, Rob and Katie are nice, but will any of that niceness extend into normal life with the eyes of everyone else at school upon us? Surely they will go back to the steps at the back of the school while I go back to the rugby changing rooms, or the library, as it may be and things will resume as they are, as they've always been and always will be. Realistically, would they ever be seen with me? Would I ever be seen with them? There's this weird, empty feeling in me, a feeling that just compounds day after day, month after month, year after year, and it's like I don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. I'm just floating in the in-between, and who even am I? What does it mean to even-

“Hey,” Evan interrupts my spiralling inner dialogue, “I meant to say to you that it’s cool that you came along, you know, even when Jen and Michelle didn’t.”

This takes me by surprise, “You think?”

“Yeah, I mean, I suppose I kind of thought you were just hanging out with us sometimes because of them, and that you didn’t really want to be there, but,” a shrug, “I suppose that isn’t true.”

“No, I like hanging out with you.”

“And it’s not just because you’ve been ostracised by your other friends?”

I hesitate for a beat, “No.”

Evan laughs, “Wow, I’m so convinced!”

“No, come on,” I rock to the side and nudge his shoulder with mine, “Like, yeah, sometimes it’s nice to have Jen here, but I’m fine, I can handle myself around the emos… and as for Michelle, well, she hates me, so it’s actually kinda comfier when she’s not here, and- oh,” I realise immediately what I’ve said, “um, well I don’t really mean that, it-”

“No, it’s okay,” Evan says, “I know that you two aren’t exactly best friends or anything.”

“Ah, so she’s talked to you about me.” 

“Nah, you’ve honestly never come up in conversation.”

“Somehow that’s worse.”

He snickers. 

“How are, um,” I pick at the beer label with my thumb, “How are things going with you guys? Like, the last time we talked you were feeling kinda…”

A sigh, “Oh, yeah, it’s the same. Like, she’s so nice but sometimes I don’t feel like I get enough from her.”

“Uh huh.”

“I kind of get a bit annoyed about it sometimes, like, how are we supposed to be together properly if I hardly see her? Like, man, she’s allowed to come to my house like, once a week. In the afternoon. And that’s the only time we can… uh, hook up or whatever. It’s so annoying.”

“Just from an outsider's perspective, you know, you seem pretty happy.”

“Yeah. She’s definitely into me,” He musses up and fixes his fringe, “I dunno. It’s fine, just sometimes I wonder about shit. You know what I mean, right?”

“I’m probably not the best person to ask, seeing none of my relationships have worked out so far, and I’m also fairly drunk, so…”

“But you know what it’s like to be with someone who wouldn’t give you the things you needed, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“So you do get it.”

“Mm, I suppose,” as our conversation tapers off I let my mind drift into thoughts about love and loneliness and the hollow disappointment of all of my relationships. These are bitter, useless, self destructive thoughts as usual, made even worse by the fact that I’m not exactly capable of rational thought while inebriated. Is drinking bad for me? Am I a miserable drunk? I have to physically shake myself out of my own head before I start talking myself into a hole again.

I turn to Evan to start saying something else about, I don’t know, whether he’s ever tried pranking someone by turning their school bag inside out and putting the books back into it or something stupid like that, but I see he’s distracted by something else across the bonfire. 

It’s that girl with the pink hair. She’s leaning over a bag to rummage for more beer, and her short skirt rides up when she’s bent over like that so that her underwear is visible through the sheer material of her tights. I frown at the dirty little smirk on his face, the way hungry eyes follow her movements, and the look between them as she glances over her shoulder and sees him watching her. I nudge my knee against his to interrupt whatever is going on.

“Wow, nice legs, huh?” 

He looks at me, surprised, but lets out a rough laugh, “Yeah, for sure.”

“Is she into you or am I just seeing things?”

“Nah, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, c’mon, no, I’m just messing with you, she just looked like… I dunno.”

“Like what?”

I shift awkwardly, “You know what, don’t mind me, I’ve had too much to drink, I thought I detected flirting, or whatever, I guess I was wrong.”

The girl kneels onto the ground and starts asking around for the bottle opener, and Evan doesn’t take his eyes away from her. “She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”

“Hm?”

“Carlie. That’s her name. She’s pretty, do you think?”

“She’s single?”

“Yep.”

“So are you trying to set me up with her or are you just pointing that out?”

“I’m not trying to set you up.” Evan seems agitated by this idea that I might try to date pretty Carlie, who, by the way, treats me like I am contagious. As though it’s any of his business what she does, as if he should even care. Something sour settles in my gut, but I can’t tell whether it’s that I'm weirded out by this conversation or if the alcohol is nauseating me. 

“Right, well, she’s not my type,” I watch his face carefully, “Is she yours?”

“She’s pretty hot.”

Maybe he's looking for my approval or my agreement, which I don’t give him on purpose. To see where it leads me I respond with a benign, “Oh, you think?”

“Uh huh,” They catch eyes again and she smiles coyly and quickly looks away to resume her conversation. That’s flirtation. She’s flirting with him, and him back, right in front of my face. 

“You know, a lot of people would consider your girlfriend to be pretty hot too.” It’s true, I’ve heard those rugby boys saying it before, the only time they ever had anything remotely complimentary to say about any of the emos was to point out the things they fancied about Michelle and what they might like to do to her if she A. wasn’t emo, or B. nobody knew, so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the social consequences. I feel disgusted again at this memory. I know where I was, sitting on the bench lacing up my boots and saying nothing while they spoke casual filth about a girl I know. 

It’s a similar feeling to the one I have now at this bonfire with Evan, and maybe this is how he is when he’s drunk, maybe he just gets a bit… leery, but when he stares across the fire at someone who isn’t his girlfriend I swear I am looking at Willy FitzHerbert. 

He waves my comment away, “Yeah but at least Carlie is interested in sex.”

“How do you know that?”

He leans closer, “Obviously because I’ve done it with her.”

“Yeah?” I say, “When?”

He smirks and says nothing.

I push him again. “A few years ago?”

He lowers his voice and looks at me with eyes that glitter with salacious excitement. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen another boy look so pleased with himself as he says: “Try a month ago.”

It takes all my self control not to react. I just pause for a second as a shock of revulsion rips through my body, I feel it from my feet to the top of my head, and then, when I decide to speak, my voice is strange to my own ears, “While you were with Michelle.”

A shrug, “It just happened on a night out when she wasn’t there. I dunno.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Course not. She’d break up with me.”

“And... you don’t want that.”

“No, because we’re in love. This stuff with Carlie, it was just… you get what I mean. It’s not like that with her.”

I sigh, “Uh, yep.”

So it appears it is the same for Evan as it is for all the others. Michelle is the virgin, Carlie is the slut and he wants it all at the same time. A girl worthy of love, and a girl interested in sex, two things that cannot converge. There is no girl that can be both.

“It felt good to let loose with someone who knew what they were doing, and like, not have to think so hard about making the other person all safe and comfortable and, blah,” he rolls his eyes, “Carlie is cool.”

“Right, yeah, she seems it.”

“You get me, right? Guys like us, you know, we need to be able to just relax sometimes, not think so hard…”

“Yeah, for sure… Guys like us, huh?”

“Hell yeah!” He clinks his beer bottle against mine, “I knew you’d get it, honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should say something but I feel good now that you understand what I meant.”

I try to laugh but it sounds weird and strangled, so I bring the bottle to my lips in the hope that drinking will disguise my discomfort, or at the very least numb it a bit. I finish the last two thirds of it and toss it somewhere amongst the miscellaneous rubbish, remnants of a hundred other miserable bonfire nights on Dollymount strand.  

Then, after a minute or two Evan nudges me again. It’s hard to look at him but I force myself to because it is what I would do if this situation was normal, “You’re not going to say anything, right? Like, to Michelle or Jen? Like I know you probably won’t...” A laugh as he adjusts his fringe, “That'd be insane, I know, but I wanted to make sure.”

“Me? Nah,” I say, “Why would you even have to ask? Don’t worry about it,” I scratch the back of my head, “your, uh, your secret is safe with me.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[seasonal-writes]

soft sappy romantic college AU ranchers at the end of a long day. that is all <3

so uh. remember how i said i'd do these requests? how i said they'd help me get back into writing and such? well! um! don't mind that that was. months ago. anyway, here is a very short little drabble from College AU, which i made a while back with the asker above, my good buddy theo! i haven't talked about it much on here but for some context if everyone else is interested: uh imagine ranchers but they are semi-secretly seeing each other and tango has to climb into jimmy's bedroom window to see him most nights. that's all you really need to know. :) i just wanted a lil bit of fluff tonight and this called to me, so thank you for the request, theo! sorry it took me so long. <3 hopefully this is okay, haha.

As soon as Tango hops into the bedroom, Jimmy can tell it has not been a good day.  Maybe it’s the paleness of his face that is usually more flushed, or the curl of his brow in the focus on pulling the window closed, but he looks.. spent. 

Jimmy turns away from the bright screen of his laptop, the habitual smile of a familiar entrance a little less bright once Tango looks at him. 

“Hey,” he says.

Tango’s blond hair is a mess, the parts usually slicked back now loose and dangling across his forehead. His eyes look dim, mouth drawn down in a perpetually grumpy expression. 

“Hi,” Jimmy says softly, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright," Tango says, rather un-convincingly, with how his voice is so flat and almost lifeless. He crouches down, unfastening the laces on his boots, as he usually does. It makes Jimmy feel excited, that small guarantee in simply removing his shoes that Tango will be there for more than just a brief visit. Though, the excitement is run over by a wave of worry.

“Pardon me if that doesn’t feel very convincing,” Jimmy says, smiling just a little, “Y’don’t really look alright..” 

Halfway through unlacing his other boot, Tango’s hands go limp as he deeply sighs. He doesn’t look at Jimmy, eyes falling shut for just a second, as if the very action tires him. 

“Just been a long day,” he says, “Tired.” 

Jimmy’s mouth twitches with a frown, already feeling his heart ache at Tango’s worn expression. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Tango says firmly, standing up once he’s done. He kicks off his boots and moves further into the room, socked feet padding against the creaky wooden floor. 

While Jimmy thinks to push, he knows better. His eyes follow Tango across the room, just as he sits at the edge of the bed. 

“You- You didn’t have to come by tonight, if you wanted to just go home,” Jimmy says, suddenly feeling an odd wave of guilt, “I really don’t mind.” 

“We planned to meet up,” Tango hums with a shrug, “You still wanted to hang out, right?”

“Well, always. But y’know-”

“Jimmy, it’s fine,” Tango grunts, “I wanted to see you. Like I said, I’m just a little worn out, okay?”

Tango’s eyes focus down at his hands in his lap, which wring and rub at each other. Jimmy stands from his chair immediately, wandering over. One hand finds Tango’s forearm, while the other gently pushes its way between Tango’s hands and curls into an oddly executed clasp. He can feel how Tango’s hand twitches a bit before relaxing, clearly not expecting it. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk? I’m all ears, you know,” Jimmy says. 

Jimmy offers a smile, despite knowing Tango won’t really look at him. There looks to be consideration from Tango for a moment, but he just shakes his head. 

“Alright. That’s fair,” Jimmy hums, giving Tango a gentle squeeze of the hand, “What can I do? Anything?” 

Tango looks up at him, finally. He reaches his free hand up, knocking it free of Jimmy’s grip on his forearm and pokes at Jimmy’s chin. He brushes his calloused thumb across the stubble there, soft scratching noises coming off it. It shifts from chin strokes, to holding the side of his face, to that same thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Jimmy can’t help it when he giggles a little. 

“Seriously, love, what can I do for you?” he asks softly. 

There are quiet mumbles of something under Tango’s breath, who pulls at Jimmy’s hand. Taking the hint, Jimmy stands up, allowing his wrist to be yanked while Tango moves further onto Jimmy’s bed. 

Jimmy cocks an eyebrow, especially as Tango lets go and adjusts himself a bit, arms now outstretched to Jimmy. It takes a moment and in a rather intelligent move, Jimmy points to himself. 

“Yes, you,” Tango says. 

“You want me?” Jimmy asks, a little shocked, and partially amused. 

“No, I just want to sit here with my arms out,” Tango says sarcastically, then does a small grabby motion with his hands, “Come on, less talk-y, more crush-y.” 

With a snort, Jimmy crawls onto his bed. A little awkwardly, he slips into the space between Tango’s arms, wrapping his own around the thin waist in a tight embrace. The two tip back, momentum taking them and flopping into the cushy comforter underneath. Jimmy makes an oof noise, now enveloped in a very pleasant warmth. He feels Tango wrap his legs around his waist, squeezing, and everything in Jimmy feels like it comes to life. He will admit, in the fairly short time they’d been together, he still wasn’t used to this. Jimmy still worries of being too stiff, or causing damage, or just not doing this.. correctly.

But Tango stares up at him, lips parted as a long breath escapes. There is a sense of melting underneath Jimmy, with how Tango’s once tense body now relaxes beneath his weight. 

Okay, maybe he was nervous, but he likes how that feels. 

“Better?” Jimmy says quietly.

“Yeah. Better,” Tango says, “Been waitin’ for this all day.”

Jimmy feels his stomach flutter. “You- really?”

“Mhmm,” Tango hums, his free hands grabbing at Jimmy’s face and holding him gently. He smiles big now, tired eyes looking even more sleepy, but in a much nicer way than before. 

“..Oh.” 

Feeling a bit flustered, Jimmy’s face heats up. 

“What? Never been told someone wants to get under you before?” Tango asks, a once sweet expression turning to something a bit more cheeky— and if steam could shoot out of his ears like a hot kettle, Jimmy is sure it would. He drops his face, averting his gaze.

“Why did you have to say it like that?” he asks. 

Tango bursts into laughter, shaking entirely underneath him. 

“Because you look so scared,” Tango coos, “Loosen up.” 

“You’re the one who’s had a long day,” Jimmy retorts, “You should be the one relaxing.”

“I’d relax much easier if I wasn’t lying underneath a literal plywood board. Come on, Angel, lean on me.”

Jimmy looks at him, wrinkles his nose, and nods. His back muscles, a little more tense than he thought, slowly disengage. More and more parts of their torsos, their hips, their chests, all press against one another. The warmth gets more intense. They sink further into each other and Jimmy tries hard to take a deep breath. It feels so close, their chins bumping into each other, which prompts quiet chuckles and a mumbled apology. When there are no sudden cries of pain, no demands for him to get away, Jimmy’s odd breathing pattern begins to even out. 

Okay, Tango was right—it did feel much nicer. The two lay in a warm, cozy heap, only the distant sound of a late spring breeze in tune with their own gentle breathing to be heard. His room is dark, only the yellow-y desk light on Jimmy’s desk illuminating their faces in a soft outline.

“There we are,” Tango whispers, “See?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy says, still flushed, “I know, you were right.” 

“Always,” Tango says, “And this is perfect, you know why?”

“Why?”

Suddenly, and rather overwhelmingly, Tango leans his face unbearably close. Jimmy nearly lurches back, but Tango’s arms wrapped around his neck makes it a little difficult. 

“Because I can reach you much better now,” Tango whispers. 

He then reaches up, pulling Jimmy into a slow kiss. A surprised hum escapes Jimmy, but he does not falter, instead taking the kiss into stride. It’s brief but so sweet, Tango coming out of it with a big grin. Unable to help it, Jimmy laughs, voice now a little squeaky and raspy. 

“Was that your plan the whole time?” he asks. 

“Mm.. maybe,” Tango says, shrugging lightly, “It was just too easy. Had to go for it.”

“Of course, there were just no other options,” Jimmy teases, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“Are you saying you’d prefer I didn’t do that?” 

Suddenly feeling very serious, Jimmy rapidly shakes his head. 

“No! No, no, not at all,” Jimmy rattles off, “Nope. It’s great, Tango, I like this option.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought."

[junglemax]

this is a dumb self indulgent thing don’t mind the fact that max caster is way nicer in this than he actually would be (also accidentally turned this into a monster of a fic rather than a drabble. oops.) (max caster, hook, darby allin, jon moxley, nicholas jackson)

caster realizes his headphones are more useful than he thinks they are, and decides to go around being helpful.

[fic]

“Here’s your headphones,” Anthony says, placing them around Max’s neck. “Grabbed ‘em from the EVPs earlier.”

“Thanks,” Max sighs. He’s not too happy about their loss, but they’ve beaten the bucks once; they’ll beat them again later, for the tag titles. He’s sure of it. “I’m gonna go take a walk.”

Anthony nods, understanding. “I’ll text you if we need you.”

Max gets up, stretches, and finds his way around the back.

It’s quiet, but he doesn’t have music playing. He’s about to when someone calls his name.

“Caster!”

Max turns, and to his surprise, it’s Samoa Joe. He stops and looks at him curiously. “Yeah?”

“Got a question about those headphones.”

Max nods once. “Go for it?”

“Those things soundproof?”

“Yeah?”

“Great. I need them.”

“What?”

“Your headphones? I need them.” Joe looks at him like what he’s saying is obvious.

“Why?”

“I’m going to give them back,” Joe sighs. “Come on, I’m kind of in a rush here.”

“What’s in it for me?” Max asks, crossing his arms. Having Joe on their side against the bucks would be useful…

“I don’t beat you to a pulp right here, right now.”

…Okay, maybe not. He slides them off and hands them over. “You’re not gonna do anything weird with them, are you?”

“Mind your business,” is what Joe says before turning around and half-jogging.

Max’s curiosity gets to him, and instead of leaving it be, he follows Joe.

Joe leads him right to his locker room. Max catches the door right before it shuts and sneaks in.

“I can’t believe you forgot your headphones,” Joe says with a soft laugh.

Max peeks around the corner.

Hook is putting the headphones on and closes his eyes, sighing through his nose.

“Where’d you get those?” Shibata asks.

“Stole ‘em from Caster. We have to give them back.”

Shibata just nods. He’s got a hand on Hook’s back, and Max assumes he’s rubbing circles into it.

Joe taps Hook’s leg, and Hook peeks an eye open. “Better?”

Hook nods. His eyes immediately shoot over to Max, and he furrows his brow, staring hard.

Joe and Shibata follow his gaze, and Max gulps.

“Really?” Joe asks, more than annoyed.

“I’m sorry!” Max squeaks, coming out from his hiding place. “I just had to see what you were doing with them.”

Shibata is nice enough to type an explanation: “Hook forgot his headphones and is overstimulated.”

Max makes an ‘o’. “I’m happy to help?”

“Get out,” Joe says, pointing to the door. “I’ll give them back to you when he’s done.”

Max makes a thumbs up and scurries out.

~

He does get them back from Joe later that day, and Max feels weirdly good that he could help. Maybe he could help someone else…

In the next few weeks, he doesn’t think about it much. He smiles and waves at Hook when he sees he remembers his headphones, to which Hook nods back and tries to look like he doesn’t exist.

It’s by surprise when Max steps into the wrong hallway for a second, but before he turns around and leaves, he spots someone admits the crowd.

Darby’s pacing back and forth, hands on the back of his head facing down. He takes a few steps to a door, looks at it, and then backs away to go back to pacing.

Curiosity gets the best of him and Max goes up, tapping him on the shoulder.

Darby jumps, but looks up and breathes out a sigh. “Oh. Max. What do you want?” He says it sort of meanly, but tiredly.

Max would respond with something mean back, but they’re good guys now, so Max pushes down a comment about how emo is still out of style. “Are you okay?” he asks instead.

Darby blinks at him in surprise. “I, uh- not really.” The stumbling admission tells Max that Darby wasn’t expecting to respond so honestly. Curse him for not just lying so Max could go on his way.

Max looks at the door Darby was attempting to go into, and steps over to open it.

The crowd in there of workers is incredibly loud; Max shuts it in surprise. He looks over at Darby, who’s watching him closely. “Need to get in there?”

Darby nods sheepishly. “Yeah. But something’s- my brain-“

Max cuts him off, walking over to him and handing over his headphones. “Try these. They block out sound pretty good.”

Darby looks at them, and looks up at Max. “You’re not gonna play some stupid shit at max volume in my ears, are there?”

Max almost curses at himself for not thinking of the amount of eardrums he could blow. If only he were a heel. “No. I promise. If anything comes through those, I’ll let you kick my ass.”

Darby feels the headphones and slowly puts them on, readjusts, readjusts, flips them around, readjusts, readjusts, flips them again, readjusts, readjusts. He sighs. “These better work, Caster.”

“I can wait out here for you,” Max offers.

Darby squints at him, then nods. “Yeah. Wait.”

Max salutes, and Darby takes in a deep breath before opening the door and walking in.

Darby’s in there for 30 minutes, and the second he walks out he slips the headphones off and hands them over. “Thank you. Seriously, that helped a lot.”

Max nods. “I’ll uh, see you around?”

Darby laughs. “I hope not too much more.”

~

Max knows he’s entering dangerous territory with this one.

Mox is muttering, pacing, probably growling, too- Max can’t exactly tell, but it sounds scary. This is a suicide mission. But he can’t help feeling sorry- he just looks so miserable. He’s in a horrible spot too, whether he knows it or not; the sound bounces off the walls right back into your ears even louder than before.

Max walks up behind, slowly, and in a swift move he reaches up and plops the headphones down onto Mox’s ears.

Mox turns around within half a second.

Max immediately screams and covers his face. “I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me! I’m trying to help!”

Mox takes the headphones off and looks at them before looking at Max. “The fuck…?”

Max peeks through his fingers. He’s not dead, and Mox doesn’t look angry, just…confused. “Oh,” Max says, softly. (If he speaks too loud he’s afraid of angering the beast.) “Um- you just seemed, uh, really bothered? By all the sound? It bounces a lot in here? So, I thought, maybe you needed to block the sound? To help you feel better?”

Mox looks at him, and Max can’t figure out what it means.

“If you don’t want them, I can just- take them back-“ Max reaches for them slowly.

Mox pulls them away from Max. “Nah,” he says absentmindedly, looking at the headphones. “I gotta give these back?”

“Please? Once you’re done, I mean. Use them however long you want! No rush,” Max laughs awkwardly.

Mox puts them on and taps the sides. He moves his head around, as if he’s testing them out, and nods, finally looking at Max. “You’ll get them back.”

“Okay,” Max says, small, and scurries off. He makes a mental note to order a second pair, just in case.

~

Anthony and Billy have just left when there’s a knock on Max’s locker door. “It’s unlocked,” he calls, thinking it’s one of them coming back for something.

Instead, Matthew Jackson pops his head in, faking a pleasant smile. “Caster, buddy, how are ya?”

Max stands up, ready to defend himself. “Really? An ambush? Not cool, dude.”

“Whoa, whoa, easy! Relax, kid, I don’t want to fight. I want to uh, make a truce for a split second.”

Max takes a step back. “What do you want?”

Matthew sighs. “Look, I’ve heard all about your, uh, kindness and generosity as of late, so I’m asking a very small favor.”

Kindness and generosity? Max catches what he means quickly and smirks, crossing his arms. “What do you need them for? Don’t you guys have plenty of other headphones to wear and be stupid with?”

Matthew frowns at him. “I’m not gonna fine you for that because this is urgent. None of our headphones are soundproof like yours apparently are.”

“Who needs them?”

“That’s really none of your business-“

“You don’t tell, I don’t give.”

“Are you freaking kidding me, Caster? Come on, it’s a pair of headphones-“

“And if you lose or break them, I’m gonna break you. Don’t forget, me and Anthony have beat you once already.”

Matthew looks like he wants to strangle Max, but gives in. “They’re not for me. They’re…they’re for Nicholas. He can’t think straight with all the noise. It’s bad today. Please, Caster, let me have them.”

Max loves the sound of an EVP pleading with him. “I’m gonna have to give you some ground rules.”

“Oh, come on, are you serious?”

“Yep. One: if I don’t get these back by the end of the day, I’m making that Tesla of yours disappear. Two: if I give you these, I am not allowed to be fined, ever.”

“What if for the rest of the year we don’t fine you, hm? Next year can be a different story.”

“Fine. I can handle that, because by then, you won’t be the tag team champions.”

Matthew growls, but holds his hand out. “Are we done?”

“You think I’m gonna give you these?” Max laughs. “Not a chance. Lead the way to your brother.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“If I don’t do the delivery myself, they don’t work as well! I swear. I would never lie to you.” Max does his best pout and bats his eyes.

“You’re insufferable. Come on, then,” Matthew sighs.

Max cheers and follows. He pulls out his phone to text his boys real quick: If you see me with an EVP, I’m not in trouble, I promise

Max, what did you do? comes in from Anthony almost immediately, but Max ignores it.

They go into the EVP’s office.

“Holy shit,” Max says. “You guys are assholes. Look at this place! Why is it so much nicer than what we have?”

“That’s enough,” Matthew warns.

Nicholas is in a corner, sort of curled up, hands on his ears, and for a moment Max actually feels bad for him.

“Nicholas,” Matthew says softly, crossing over to his brother. He removes his hands and slips the headphones on. “Is that better?”

Nicholas puts his hands on the headphones like he’s trying to push the silence into his ears. Slowly but surely, he uncurls, and his hands let go.

Matthew smiles. He looks over at Max, and coughs, dropping his sweet smile into a frown. “You can go now. We’ll return them to you eventually.”

“By the end of today,” Max warns.

Matthew sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. By the end of today.”

Max grins. “See you losers later!”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

So I just read lunch (no) date and loved it! Would you ever add on to it? Maybe Foggy being a friend to the reader and confronting Matt anyway? I would love to see Matt’s excuse for this.

thank you so much, I had a fair few requests for a continuation, so I just had to do it. so glad you liked it💌

lunch [no] date // part 2 (matt x f reader)

wc || <1k

warnings || none

< PART 1 <

masterlist + rules

taglist

Foggy & Matt's pov:

Foggy was pacing around the office feeling antsy waiting for Matt to come back. The doorknob twists and he rushes towards the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He immediately lets out, as if that was the exact thought that had been racing around his brain.

“Uh- tell you what?” Matt asks while taking off his coat, handing it on the rack.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know.” Foggy says frustratedly.

“I really don’t know… I was down at the police station talking to a client, is that what you mean?” Matt says shorty, resting his hands on his hips.

“No, you dick.” Foggy slightly grunts, tapping Matt on the shoulder. “You have a girlfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Matt sighs, “wait- how do you know? Was she here? … Because I can smell her, but I just thought that it was from my coat.”

“Yes, she was here, she left about twenty minutes ago.” Foggy says simply.

“Well, what else did she say?” Matt asks sounding a bit worried.

“You need to talk to her, she’s probably devastated… how could you not tell me?” Foggy painfully smiles. “She’s a good one, you can’t ruin this Matt, go and talk to her.”

“Okay, alright.” He sighs walking into his office, forcefully shutting the door behind him and slumping into his chair.

Your pov:

Sitting in the middle of a boring meeting, your brain keeps you alert by making you remember what had just happened. Is he embarrassed by me? Does he even like me?

Feeling your phone vibrate, subtly pulling it out to look at it under the table. Seeing Matt’s name light up the screen. Yeah, I don’t think so. Deciding to turn it off, so you don’t get yelled at because of the incessant ringing.

Finally finishing work for the day, making your way home you turn your phone on to see a flood of missed texts and calls from Matt, some from Foggy too.

Skim reading a couple of the notifications, momentarily holding the phone under your chin as you opened the main door to your apartment building. Lugging up the stairs to see Matt patiently leaning against your door.

“Angel, hey!” He sweetly coos, slowly walking over to you.

“Hi.” You say shortly.

“I know you’re probably very upset right now, but please can we talk?” He says softly, moving out of the way of the door so you could unlock it.

“Uh- okay, yeah fine. Come in.” Trying to debate whether you’re ready to listen yet.

“Okay so, firstly, I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier- I had to meet someone down at the station… And I’m so, so sorry for not telling Foggy. He thinks of you as his little sister… and I didn’t want him to disapprove.”

“Why would he disapprove?” You softly ask.

“I thought that- I didn’t think I’d be good enough for you, and that Foggy would think the same.”

“Matt…” you coo, cupping his cheeks. “You should’ve said, I never knew you felt that way.” Your thumb stroking his cheeks.

“I really am sorry. It just all got on top of me.”

“You don’t need to apologise, I get it, it’s really okay.” You reassure.

“You’re not mad?” He says as his arms wrap around you.

“Nope. I just thought you were embarrassed by me or something.” Wryly laughing in an attempt to deflect your awkward thought.

Pulling apart slightly to kiss your forehead. “Never.”

[agaypanic]

I loved your Malcom x male reader story! Would it be possible for another? Maybe he’s a new neighbour or an exchange student from England or something? Go wild!

The New Neighbor (Malcolm Wilkerson X Male!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: When Malcolm sees a new family moving in next door, he’s ecstatic for a clean slate. But a clean slate isn’t the only thing Malcolm’s getting from you.

A/N: im sorry but i did in fact not go wild, this feels pretty bland tbh lmk if yall would want a second part, i just cant think of a way to continue this rn :/

***

It wasn’t every day you got a new neighbor. Most people wouldn’t think much of it; maybe send over some kind of baked goods if they were feeling nice.

But for the Wilkerson family, new neighbors meant new chances. They didn’t exactly have the best reputation in the neighborhood, mainly because of all the boys’ crazed antics. The family just had to make sure they got to the newcomers before anyone else in the neighborhood.

“Hi, can I help you?” You sounded exhausted, probably because you kept walking back and forth, unloading heavy ass boxes. Your parents were starting their new jobs today, but you didn’t start school until next Monday. So you decided to do a bit of unpacking when a boy about your age popped up on your lawn.

“I, uh, I was just coming back from school, and I noticed you weren’t there.” He scratched the back of his head, and you set down the box you were ready to carry inside. Realizing that what he said sounded a bit stalker-like, the boy adjusted his backpack straps and stood up slightly straighter. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in a weird way. I’m Malcolm, by the way. I’m your neighbor.” He pointed to your right, to a house and lawn that definitely stood out from the rest of the block.

“Oh! Yeah, I think I saw you and your brothers yesterday.” You walked down the lawn to get close enough to hold your hand out to Malcolm. “I’m Y/n. I’m starting school on Monday.”

He shook your hand, giving you a polite but somewhat nervous smile. Why he seemed nervous, you had no clue.

“Do you need, like, any help with this?” The two of you looked around your lawn. The movers your parents hired didn’t really care about putting the boxes in the rooms they were labeled for, or the house itself, for that matter. You were lucky it didn’t rain.

“If you don’t mind.”

Having Malcolm around turned out to be a lifesaver. He may have looked like a string bean, but you got the rest of the boxes in the house and in their respective rooms faster with him than you could have by yourself. Plus, he was able to unpack some of the stuff with you, which led to multiple conversations about different things that you apparently had in common.

“So why did you have to move?” Malcolm asked, flipping through one of your comic books.

“Parents got new jobs. Better pay, better school district, hopefully better people.”

“Did everyone at your old school suck?” You laughed lightly, sitting on your bed next to him. He closed the book, thumb between the pages to save his place, and looked at you.

“You could say that. Heard California’s more liberal than where we’re from, so there’s that, I guess.” You leaned back until your back hit the mattress, and Malcolm did the same. You both looked up at the ceiling.

“Why would that matter?” He asked. You took a deep inhale, and Malcolm panicked. “You don’t have to tell me. You know, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” You said before he could go into a fast-paced tangent. “It’s cool. Um, where I’m from, people aren’t really too fond of… They don’t like gay people that much.” There were a few beats of silence, and you panicked. What was wrong with you? You just met this guy, and here you were, telling him everything about your life.

“So… you’re gay?” Malcolm asked, fiddling with his flannel.

“Enough to not like me.” 

“Well, a lot of people don’t like me or my family. They think we’re kinda crazy or something.” You laughed. From your interactions so far, Malcolm seemed pretty normal. 

“I guess that if I get outcasted again, I have at least one person to hang out with.” You turned your head to see Malcolm already looking at you. You both smiled lightly at each other, as if in agreeance.

After a bit more chatting, you realized how late it was getting. You walked Malcolm out the front door and to the sidewalk. Before you could wave each other goodbye, you decided to bite the bullet.

“Hey, Malcolm?” He raised his brows, waiting for you to continue. You kicked invisible rocks, calming your growing nerves. Why you were nervous, you had no idea. “Do you wanna hang out sometime? You’re the only person I know right now, and you seem pretty cool.” Malcolm nodded almost immediately.

“Yeah, that sounds awesome! How does tomorrow sound? I can show you around town and stuff.” 

You grinned, nervousness washed away by Malcolm’s excitement.

“Sounds good to me. I can give you my number if you want; we can work out a time or something.” He nodded, so you held up a finger, signaling for him to stay and wait, and ran back into the house. You came out a few seconds later with a sharpie. “Roll up your sleeve.” Malcolm tilted his head questioningly but did it anyway. “Couldn’t find any paper.” You elaborated as you scribbled your number on his arm. You capped the marker and started to back away towards your house. “Text me.”

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

[vodika-vibes]

The Joys of Dating a Chosen One

Summary: Your sweet Captain comes to a sudden realization, and it makes him love you all the more.

Pairing: Captain Keeli x Reader

Word Count: 1195

Warnings: Suggestive at the End

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I love FFXIV, I've beaten the main story...uh...three times now? Almost four times, so anyway. I was playing that and having thoughts about Keeli (I love him, I blame @the-bad-batch-baroness) and they sort of merged together into this AU.

Divider by Saradika

“On the day when the sun and the moon-”

“Babe!” Keeli lowers his datapad and shoots you a frustrated look, “Babe, I love you, but if you make another prophecy and drag us into another life or death, divine calling, fiasco, I’m breaking up with you.”

You turn so that you’re sitting on your knees on the chair, and you sling your arms over the back, “No, you won’t.” You say smugly.

Keeli sighs and drops his head back against the couch, “No.” He agrees, “I won’t, but I will bitch about it. I was not trained to kill god. Either capital G or lower case G.”

“But you did such a good job last time!” You say with a laugh.

“Babe.”

You laugh outright, and hop out of your chair and drop on the couch next to him. You tuck your head under his chin, and he sighs and wraps his arms around you, his fingers immediately moving to the scars that line your body. Scars he knows as well as his own. You smile up at him adoringly, “I love you.”

He brushes his thumb across your lower lip, and then he ducks his head and kisses you quickly, “I love you too. But I do wish you had told me that you were the galaxy’s punching bag before we started dating.”

“Oh, but then you might have said no.” You tease as you shift so that you’re straddling his lap.

“Nah, I would have still said yes. But I would have thought about it for, like, 30 seconds.” Keeli replies with a grin as he sets his datapad to the side and grips your hips to tug you so you’re flush against him.

“Really?” You ask, disbelievingly.

“I don’t think you quite understand how insanely attractive you are.” Keeli replies with a wide grin.

You press your hands against his cheeks, “The day before I asked you out, I literally killed a Death God who was trying to destroy a planet. Asking you out was much scarier.”

“Hm…Captain Keeli, more intimidating than a Death God.” He muses thoughtfully.

You laugh and kiss him, “Not like that. People skills aren’t exactly my strong suit, lover boy.”

“I have no complaints about any of your skills, cyar’ika.” He purrs.

“You’re a pervert.”

He shrugs one shoulder with a wide grin crossing his handsome face, “Only for you.” He says as his hands slide a little lower to rest on your thighs. 

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose, and aren’t the least bit surprised when he tilts his head back to catch your lips with his own.

Keeli kisses like he does everything else in his life. Carefully, methodically. His kisses steal the breath from your very lungs and replace it with himself. He kisses you like he needs you like air, and you love it about him. 

He breaks the kiss, and you’re breathless and hazy eyed, and he grins at you. “My sweet cyar’ika,” Keeli coos, “You always react so nicely when I kiss you like that.”

You flash a dreamy smile, “You kiss me like you need me.”

“Fair, because I do need you.” Keeli murmurs, “All of the time, at every moment.” He slides one of his hands up your spine and he presses his hand against your cheek. “I wouldn’t be here, if not for you.”

You blink at him, surprised. “Keeli, you’re an excellent soldier-”

“Shh…let me talk.” Keeli murmurs.

You sigh and lean in to press your forehead against his, your eyes closing as his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles on your cheek.

“I was on Ryloth. And me and my men, as well as our general, decided to stay back, to protect the civilians from being gunned down.” His voice was low, gentle, as if he’s not talking about an event that should have killed him, “It was only a matter of time before we were run over-”

He moves and presses a light kiss against your lips, and then drags his lips across to your cheek, and down to your jaw.

“I should have died there. I was supposed to die there. And yet I didn’t.”

You hands have a distinct waver to them as you press them against his shoulders, “You got lucky…or your jedi-”

“You were there, weren’t you?”

You duck your head, “There’s no proof-”

“Cyare,” His voice is so gentle that you aren’t even able to finish the sentence.

“I was on Ryloth for something else, something that I had to do.” You admit, your voice very quiet. “I wasn’t supposed to get involved. The war…it’s not my problem. Or, it wasn’t.” You slide one hand down to rest over his heart, “But I was there, and I saw what was about to happen, and I couldn’t just walk away…so I got involved. I…removed…a portion of the opposing army, not all of them, but enough that you and your brothers would live.”

“And I appreciate it,” Keeli murmurs, “I just don’t understand why.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, trying to gather your thoughts, “When this whole thing began, I was just a wanderer.” You admit slowly, “I wanted to help people, all people. But then my adventures started getting bigger and bigger, and before I knew it I was fighting gods and demons and coming out the other side hurt, but alive. And I just…I just couldn’t leave you all to die. Not when I could do something about it.”

“Thank you,” Keeli whispered.

“You’re welcome.” You reply with a small smile, “but, um, I didn’t know that you were one of the men I’d saved until…well…just now, actually.”

He grins and bumps his nose against yours, “So, us being together is just fate then.”

“Fuck Fate.” You whisper, “I make my own choices.” You kiss him deeply, and he groans into the kiss, his hand sliding up under the hem of your shirt to allow his fingers to dance against the scarred skin of your stomach.

“Have I ever mentioned,” Keeli mumbles against your lips, “how incredibly, insanely, attractive I find you? And that I love you more than anything in this galaxy?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” You reply.

“Not nearly enough.” He stands suddenly, and you fling your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself, “I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?”

Your face burns with sudden embarrassment when you notice the way he’s looking at you.

And he laughs as he turns to carry you into your bedroom, “And then, my perfect, wonderful cyare, you can tell me all about this next god we have to kill.”

You release a breathless laugh, “I thought you weren’t interested?”

“I changed my mind.” Keeli replies as he drops you on the bed, and then peels his shirt off, “After all, watching you kill a god is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You blink at him, “Hotter than-?”

“Yes.”

“Even when I-?”

“Even then.”

“...huh.”

He grins at you, “Any more questions?”

“Nope.” You reach out your arms to him, “I love you.”

Keeli’s grin widens, “I love you too.”

[quillquiver]

Happy 2nd anniversary to those two old guys from supernatural [[ao3]]

Their room is a mess.

It’s not their fault; though they’re largely retired, Claire and Kaia needed backup on a nearby mystery monster situation. So Cas’d cracked open the books and Dean had packed a duffle and when they’d stopped hearing from the kids, they’d gone in after them. ’Course, by the time they’d gotten back they’d pretty much just shed their viscera-covered clothing and dropped into bed.

Bright winter sun streams in through the window, causing Dean to groan and Cas to burrow further into his pillow. The duffle has been thrown at the closet door, the thing busted open and swollen with weaponry. Cas’s angel blade thigh holster hangs off the bottom-right bed post and Dean’s gun sits atop the dresser. The room smells like sewage and monster guts, which isn’t exactly ideal for a second wedding anniversary, but Dean figures they’ve done worse; last year, Jack had been so sick they’d spent the day trying to stop his puking. 

But Jack is with Sam and Eileen today, and after a shower and a change of sheets, Operation: Oops We Did It Again can finally commence. Starting, hopefully, with a vat of coffee and Dean getting fucked silly as many times as they can swing it. 

“Cas,” he whines, eyes closed. He shakes his shoulder. “Coffee.”

“You do it,” Cas says.

“Did it last time.”

Cas slaps at Dean’s hands. “M’gonna burn it.”

“S’automatic, you loser.”

“Can’t.” He rolls over. Tucking his face into the juncture of Dean’s neck, Cas applies half-asleep kisses everywhere he can reach, mumbling nonsense about how good and strong Dean is, how he’s the best provider and so manly and wouldn’t he prefer to make the coffee?

Dean stumbles out of bed grumbling.

Cas smiles. “I love you,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. 

Yeah, Dean bets he does.

By the time he comes back with two mugs and his present under his arm, Cas has moved from his side of the bed to Dean’s, his head face-down in Dean’s pillow. Dean still has no idea how he manages to breathe like that. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. C’mon.”

Cas groans.

“Cas, seriously. There’s shit all over the room, I need you to grab this.”

He rises from the bed like a zombie from the grave, sitting up and offering his hands. As soon as the mug is cupped between his palms he sighs. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Kiss.”

Dean grins. Pecks his mouth. “We’re so nasty,” he says. “Feel like I need to go through a human car wash.”

“Mm.” His blue eyes are only barely open. “Made it though.”

“Yeah by the skin of our teeth.” Dean frowns at his mug. “Gettin’ old.”

“For fighting, maybe. For everything else...” Cas shrugs. Smiles. “I think you deserve a real retirement.”

Dean purses his lips. They haven’t really talked about going whole hog on their apple pie life yet, and it’s not something he really wants to think about; if his family’s in trouble, he’s just supposed to sit around with his thumb up his ass? He’d never leave Jack, how could he leave Claire and Kaia?

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Cas says, clearly more awake. He shrugs. “It might be something to think about. I don’t like it, but Sam and Eileen’s network has been doing great things. And I think we scared Claire.”

“Yeah,” Dean chews his lip, distracted. “Maybe.”

“...Is that for me?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Smiling, again, Dean takes the badly-wrapped package from under his arm and offers it. “It’s, uh, nothin’, y’know. Just... yeah. Happy anniversary.”

Cas kisses him, soft and sweet. “What is it?”

“You have to open it, you dork.”

“Alright, well...” Cas stretches and reaches under the bed, bringing up a present of his own. “Happy anniversary to you, too.”

Dean grins. “Open mine first.”

Cas’s gift is a riotously coloured cotton sweatshirt and short set. The thing looks like it’s been pulled right out of the 90s, soft and bright and Cas smiles so big his gums show. “I’m going to wear it once I’ve showered.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He leans in for another kiss, grinning when Dean chases as he pulls away. “Open yours.”

Dean shakes his head, moving to press soft, wet kisses across Cas’s top lip. “Wanna make it last.”

Cas gives as good as he gets, shuffling until he’s practically in Dean’s lap. Their empty mugs have gotten lost in the dirty sheets somewhere, hands holding and squeezing and grabbing as the kiss deepens to something sexy and slow. Cas has this way this way of kissing that makes it feel like the main event. “Trust me,” he breathes. “We’re going to want what’s in there for the next part.”

“The shower?” Dean teases, leaning in again.

Cas nips his bottom lip. “The sex.”

Dean tears into the wrapping paper. 

“Oh hell yeah.”

Sheets. 

“Egyptian cotton,” Cas grins. “500 thread count.”

“Mm, talk dirty to me.”

“Single-ply,” he says lowly. “Hand-dyed.”

“Oh baby.”

They beam at each other. 

“Thanks, man,” Dean says. “I love ’em.”

“That’s only part of your gift,” he explains matter-of-factly. “I also plan to fuck you on those sheets. And to have pizza delivered later.”

“Hot.”

They make-out for longer than they probably should given how gross they are, until Cas is trying to hump him like some over-eager teenager and Dean is rapidly forgetting why they shouldn’t just add to the mess (the answer: that would be disgusting). “Sweetheart, we gotta—we should—”

“What if we just, ah, like this. Then later—”

Dean shakes his head. “Want it to last. I want—”

“I can do that. I can—fuck—”

“Cas, if you come without fucking me I’m gonna be pissed.”

Cas wrenches away, frustrated. “Then just let me—”

“Woah,” Dean interrupts. “What’s the rush? Sweetheart, hey. Castiel.” But Cas refuses to meet his eyes. Dean cups his face. Cas grips his wrists. “Talk to me.”

“I love you,” he blurts out.

Dean frowns. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

“I love you so much,” Cas says, like it’s a confession. Like it’s being ripped out of him. “I’m here. We’re married. We almost died. And I just—Dean, I don’t know—There’s something wrong with me, I—”

Dean’s eyes soften. “Nah, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Sorry,” Cas croaks, squeezing his eyes shut as if to stop himself from crying. “I want you. I-I want—So I don’t understand why I’m—I was fine. I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “You are.” His dirty fingers thumb away tear tracks from the apple of Cas’s cheek. “Look, sometimes... we think we’re fine but we’re overwhelmed, y’know? S’okay.”

“I wanted to take care of you today.”

“Who says the day’s over?” Dean asks. “We’re gonna go take a nice long shower and I’m gonna wash your hair, and then I’m gonna go order like 40 pizzas and choose a movie, ’cause you owe me for coffee this morning. Then we’ll shove everything in the wash, and change the sheets, and you’re gonna fuck me so good I’ll feel it for the rest of the week.” Cas huffs a laugh. Dean smiles. “Darlin’,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk about hunting.”

Cas bites his lip. “I don’t want to die,” he breathes. “I only just got you back.”

The smallness of his voice hangs in the air between them. Dean feels something in him break. “...Yeah,” he swallows thickly. “I know.”

“But I don’t want to leave Claire if she needs help,” Cas argues with himself. “And you love hunting, I don’t want—”

“Alright well, first of all I don’t love hunting.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean promises. “We always do.” They’re quiet as he rubs at the cut of Cas’s jaw, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth. “Not to change the subject or anything,” he eventually says. “But that was some serious real adult shit right there.” Cas rolls his red-rimmed eyes. Dean puffs out his chest. “C’mon, you gonna tell me I didn’t just make that conversation my bitch? I win at relationships, man.”

Despite the smile creeping across his face, Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Whatever, I’m totally winning.”

Cas squints. “You routinely put things away without asking where they go. And then you forget about them, like a squirrel.”

“Please, you leave your shit all over the place. What am I supposed to do? Just walk right on by?”

“Yes! You...” Cas trails off, eyeing Dean’s shit-eating grin with a grimace. “Fine. Yes. Thank you. You’re very good at relationships.”

“Some would even say...” Dean prompts.

“They’d be wrong,” Cas says simply. “If the sample size is the rest of our lives, there’s no way to tell you’ve won yet.” A shrug. “And as we aren’t even through the whole day today, the jury still seems to be out on that, too. Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry. 

Dean hums. “So what you’re saying is, we should get in the shower to figure out who’s better.”

“As a start, yes.”

“Cool.”

Dean’s halfway to the bathroom when he suddenly pulled into a hug. Cas steps in and around until they’re pressed chest to chest, clinging to him in a way that would have broken bones if he was still an angel. He pulls away with a kiss to Dean’s closed mouth. “Thank you,” he says emphatically. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop being thankful for it.”

A blush explodes across the bridge of Dean’s nose. “That’s cheating.”

“I meant it.”

Dean looks at him, helpless. “Cas.”

Cas stares his fill until he’s apparently done, nodding to himself before leading Dean, by the hand, into the bathroom. “Come.”

Dean does, for the record.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 18

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

With nothing else left on your list, you take the time to bask in the steam of a well-earned shower. You spent much of the last hour scrubbing the grout in the downstairs bathroom and now your hips ache in the heat of the water. You sigh and let the downpour trickle past your shoulders, lapping over the curves of your body.

Lloyd’s been AWOL much of the day. It isn’t much different from his previous absence but the threat of his appearance is always in the back of your mind. Your thighs tingle as you think of the day before, the smell of window cleaner and the sensation of prickly hair on soft skin.

You groan and crank off the faucet. With any luck, you’ll be able to wind down early and get some decent sleep. The longer you’re there, the less you think of your husband. It’s only what’s ahead that keeps you up. A divorce, of course, and then… when Lloyd’s done with humiliating you…

You wrap yourself in the soft towel, the water dripping off you onto the plush bath mat. You close the shower door and pat yourself dry lazily. You yawn and drag your feet across the tile, pausing at the slightly ajar door… didn’t you shut that?

You enter the bedroom. He was definitely in here. You near the bed, a red velvet dress speckled with tiny gems is spread out beneath a piece of stationary with the initials LH in the frame. “7pm.”

What now?

You check your phone. It’s only six. You have some time. You look over the dress, feeling the fabric with your fingertips as you stand in the towel. You know he’ll be looking for any reason to be disappointed so you better look good.

You get ready with some urgency. Being late would be the first of many gripes you don’t want to hear. You feel entirely unprepared as you try to wake yourself up from the afterglow of the shower. So much for a cozy bedtime.

The dress fits, if a little tight at the hips and a little too showy in the bust. You adjust your bra and check your profile in the mirror. Oh god, does the slit really go that high. You step into the heels and take a few steps to gain your balance. You look okay? Presentable.

You merge at quarter to. You’re on time. Ahead of time. That will make up for everything else. You get to the stairs and hold on tight to the railing as you descend, a step at the time as you fear falling on your face. It isn’t until you reach the bottom that you wonder what all this is for.

Then the anxiety hits. You pace, nearly bending your ankles, heels clicking in an echo around the airy foyer. You chew your thumb but stop yourself as you worry about messing up your lipstick. What if this is all just another ploy to embarrass you? What are you wearing? You look ridiculous…

“Ah, you got my message,” Lloyd enters behind you.

You turn and nearly double take. He’s in a sleek suit, a dark blue jacket with precisely tailored pants, a black shirt with a hint of matching navy under the collar. He has the usual gold ring on his pinky and a chain around his neck. Usually well-kempt, he looks immaculate as his silhouette takes the cut well.

“Uh, yeah,” you say awkwardly, folding your hands before you, “are we going somewhere?”

He scoffs and doesn’t answer you as he goes to the closet and pulls out his jacket. He shrugs it on and searches out an embroidered scarf. He wraps it once around his neck and reaches in again, pulling out an ivory curt trimmed in matching faux fur. He opens it to you as he turns on his heel.

You cross to him and poke your arms into the sleeve with a thank you. He is oddly laidback. There’s some trick. You know it. You face him as he buttons his coat and tucks in the scarf.

“Dinner,” he says curtly.

“Alright,” you agree, knowing you have any other choice.

“My treat,” he pokes your cheek playfully, “I don’t hear a thank you daddy.”

You curve your lips in an effort to hide your irritation, “thank you, daddy.”

“Mm,” he drags his finger down and keeps you from closing the coat as he takes in your figure, “if you’re wearing panties, take them off now.”

You flinch and follow his eyeline. You look down at yourself and sigh. You pull up your dress and hook your thumbs in your panties, pulling them down and stepping out of them. He snatches them and stretches them, letting them go so they fly across the room.

“You can take the bra off too,” he brings his hands up to frame your chest, “let’s not be late. I made a reservation.”

You huff and take off the coat. You hand it over and reach back to unhook your bra. You slip it off beneath the top of the dress and pull it from beneath the velvet. That you throw yourself before grabbing back the coat.

“Ready,” you declare breathily.

“You look good enough to eat,” he winks and passes you, opening the door as he waits for you to follow. His gallantry further dismantles you as you step outside. His hand swings down and he spanks you, groping you through the coat, “mmm, I don’t know if I’ll make it to dessert.”

He shuts the door and gestures you onward. You march down the walk and to the long driveway. He unlocks the flashy new red corvette as you round the hood. You get in on the passenger's side as he drops behind the wheel. He takes his time adjusting the mirrors and seat.

“You like the new wheels?” He asks.

“Um, sure, I don’t know much about cars.”

“Sits low,” he wiggles in his seat, pushing his legs wide as he turns the keys, “comfy, huh?”

“Yeah,” you lean back into the leather. It’s not as stiff as your old beater, or as cramped.

He flips the engine and rests his arm across the space between your seats as he backs out. You watch his estate as he rolls away and your eyes trail over the barren hedges. He stops at the end of his property line, peer back and forth along the street. He turns out and lets his hand fall down onto your thigh.

He steers with his other hand casually as his fingers walk along the velvet, gathering it until he touches bare skin. He pinches you and spreads his hand over your thighs, prodding between them.

“Spread em, baby cakes,” he shoves his hand down until you part your knees, “I need a little something to wet the appetite.”

Your eyes meet his in the rearview as he gives you a leer. His fingers delve between your folds and he tuts as he feels along you dry lips. 

“Come on and get wet for daddy,” he twirls his fingers around your clit as you inhale sharply and squirm, “that’s it, baby.”

He rubs you harder, his other hand gripping the wheel until the leather squeaks. Your thighs quiver and you grasp the door as your nerves ping together. He slides his fingers down again, through the slicks sheen that’s risen. He drags his fingertips back up and flicks your clit so you spasm.

He clucks and draws his hand away. You watch him press his fingers to his mustache and spread the glisten across the short hair. It’s as revolting as it is disarming. You sit stunned, with your legs wide.

“Baby, you’re gonna wanna cover yourself up,” he stops at a sign, “anyone could see in here.”